by Nikki Wild
And he was right, as much as I hated to admit it. The last thing that I really needed right now was to be alone with myself, trying to solve some depressing problem in my head that nothing was going to fix, no matter how I tried…
I could use the distraction.
Besides… it was only dinner, right?
Dinner was practically harmless.
“Okay, Jeremy, ” I finally conceded with a defeated shrug. “Let’s do dinner tonight.”
“Perfect. I knew you’d come around, Clara.”
As I heard his wicked little chuckle over the phone, I wondered if I hadn’t just made a huge mistake…
Eighteen
The Californian sun baked down onto my shoulders as I stepped out onto the familiar driveway from my rental car. Covering my eyes, I began strolling the short distance around the front of the expensive little house, perched at the edge of this cul-de-sac.
It hadn’t taken me long to consider the hot, bright desert of the American Southwest another stunning rendition of home sweet home. After all, I’d spent years under this burning sun, in an environment easily just as inhospitable as this one.
While I walked up the driveway, my mind drifted back to the same place it had the entire week that I’d been here: my last night with Clara.
…And what a clusterfuck that had been.
She’d seriously wounded my soul with the severity and suddenness of her emotional reversal. It had taken me an hour of stomping around my rental house and throwing shit before I could finally cool down enough to think rationally. That’s when I’d decided to call upon one of my closest friends in the marines, and I booked a flight for the following morning out to California.
Almost every day since then, I’d ventured out into the blinding, white heat to come to this house… the one place that I thought might heal me.
“Dalton!”
My old marine buddy, Darren, was standing in the backyard and waving me over. “You’re right on time, man. I’m just heating up the grill now. Not exactly bangers and mash, but how do you feel about a solid, one hundred percent unadulterated American burger?”
“You guys always kicked our bloody arses when it came to food,” I grinned. We embraced with matching backslaps, and his beautiful wife popped out through the sliding backdoor.
“Dalton! I thought I heard you pulling up a moment ago. Welcome back!”
Sam gave me a peck on the cheek as I hugged her. “Are you feeling any better?”
Samantha was Darren’s high school flame. They’d separated after he entered his marine career, unable to withstand the distance, but when he got out two years ago they had worked to rekindle that fire.
The rest was history.
“Oh, leave him alone,” Darren smiled as he played with the charcoal. “He’s still here, which tells me what I need to know.”
I overlooked them talking about it in front of me as if I wasn’t here, but I was pleased that the subject was being dropped.
“I’m fine,” I reassured her. “Just enjoying this little impromptu vacation for the moment.”
“Good! How are you liking California?”
“Not too bad, although I’m sure I’ve bedded women wetter than this entire state,” I smiled crudely. “Once you get over that part, it’s actually pretty nice out here.”
“I’m sure you have!” Sam laughed. “Hell, maybe I have, too…”
It had come as a bit of a surprise that they had an open marriage. It personally wasn’t for me, or anything I’d ever participate in, but it didn’t take much convincing for me to see that they were hopelessly in love with each other.
Good for them, I thought to myself.
“Anyway, can I grab you anything from inside?” Sam politely asked me. “I’d be a horrible hostess if you were out here parched under this sun!”
“Actually, could I trouble you for a beer?”
“By all means. We still have a few Newcastles in the fridge, unless you’d like a Mexican import? Options are Dos XX and Corona, off the top of my head…”
“Dos XX, if you’d be so kind,” I replied. “If you’ve got it, Lager.”
“I think we just might,” she smiled before turning back to her husband. “How about you, dear? Feeling thirsty?”
Darren was preparing a few patties on the counter beside the built-in grill. Pausing to think for a moment, he shrugged. “Go ahead and make that two.”
“Okay then, back in a sec!”
She sauntered inside, and we started trading old war stories.
Darren was a good man. He’d been one of the more senior members to my platoon, an older, more rugged version of myself. We’d become fast friends in the line of fire… bash brothers, they sometimes called a pair like us.
Darren had retired three years before I left the marines. With a steady military pension and a ton of money in the bank, he’d had the luxury of throwing himself into picking up a new skill.
The others were a little surprised to see that he’d become a freelance novelist, but it didn’t surprise me much. The guy was highly introspective, and very detail-oriented. With his firm grasp of Marine life, a greater scope of military operations, and a ton of stories kicking around in the back of his head, he was already starting to make waves with his first novel's release.
Last I’d heard, he was a sure shot to the tail end of the New York Times Bestsellers List.
When Sam returned with the refreshments, we were laughing riotously over some of the military pranks we’d pulled during our tenure overseas.
Life was always rough out there, and war never changed. But it was all about the approach you took to the life you chose.
We spent a good couple of hours chatting away, cooking up great food, and basking in the pleasure of our own company. Darren was a fantastic friend, same as always, and his wife was a real treat too. It was gratifying to watch her sit against him, her head on his shoulder and he delighted in tales of our old life, and ridiculous stories from before my time.
They really loved each other, he and her.
At least they got their happy ending, I thought.
“I have to admit, this has been a little on the surreal side for me,” Darren chuckled as he swished his beer around, towards the end of my visit. “I figured I’d see you around at a few reunions or something, but I sure as shit didn’t expect you to pick up the phone and be here in town for a week.”
“Yeah, it’s been a while since we’ve really seen each other, hasn’t it?” I smiled, glancing through the window at the dry, arid environment. “Although, you must not have wanted to get far from the desert if you settled in the American Southwest like this…”
“You know that’s not what I mean,” the older man sighed, setting his beer down with a deep, drawn out sigh.
I looked back at him.
“I don’t think I follow.”
A shrewd smile crossed Darren’s lips. “Dalton Carlyle. The British Bastard! I have seen you pull marines off of grenades with my own eyes. You’ve always, always had my back. You’re the only one out of our pack that I ever completely trusted with my life. When I was wounded and down in the dirt, you defended me from an insurgent with just a combat knife and the grit in your teeth...”
I shifted in my seat slightly, remembering that uncomfortable flashback again. Pushing the mental images away, I forced a faint smile at the recognition.
“…And yet, after all the things that could have killed us out there, it’s a woman that cripples you. From what you’ve told me, a good woman at that. Put you in the desert with a knife, or put someone you actually care about in harms way… and you’d go for the knife, every time.”
“Darren…” I subtly warned.
Sam sat down with him as he continued.
“Bro, you’re a bonafide lady-killer. I wouldn’t believe this shit unless I’d seen it with my own eyes. Hell, the morning after you leave, I’ll be halfway convinced I dreamt this.”
“It’s more complicated th
an that,” I told him.
Darren nodded. “Yeah, the thing with the parents. That’s pretty out there, I’ll admit it. But I mean, you saw this girl before you knew about that, right? Isn’t that what you told me?”
“Yes,” I reluctantly admitted.
“And you were already interested?”
“I was.”
“So, I don’t get it.”
“Darren, she sent me away. She doesn’t want any part of this. It was hard enough to chase her when she was sort of onboard with the… complications we’ll be facing… but the second I opened my stupid mouth and told her about traveling the world, she snapped up tighter than our resources officer when we had that severed supply line.”
“Then go get her,” Sam cut in, facing me firmly. “Change her mind. Instead of sulking out here in the desert with your old war buddy, much as we both love your company. This isn’t your place, Dalton. You know that.”
I held my head in my hands.
“What am I supposed to do? Just march up and tell her, you know, fuck it? Let’s throw caution to the winds, no matter how crazy it sounds? Regardless of what our parents will think?”
Darren reached for his beer again. He offhandedly spoke: “If you ever really cared about this girl, it sounds like you’ve answered your own question.” He took a deep sip, leaving me with the thought.
Sam winked at me. “He’s right. Seems to me like you’ve already got this figured out.”
I leaned back, gazing out the window again. The arid landscape was beautiful, in its own way, especially with the sun setting across the land. It was also impartial. It was neutral, and it didn’t give a flying fuck about what I was going through.
It was dry, barren, and rock solid.
It was the way I used to be.
“It might really be that simple, yeah?” I wondered aloud. “Just like that.”
“Just like that,” Darren nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll echo everything Sam said, but in particular… you know we both love you. You’re welcome in our home as long as you’d like, anytime you’d like. But most importantly… this isn’t where you need to be.”
I stared him straight in the eyes, seated across from me.
“You need to be back there, where you belong. With her.” He stopped to swig back the last of his beer. “This must be scary for you, though. Actually caring about a girl for once. I get why you’d want to run away from this.”
“I don’t run,” I told him through gritted teeth.
“You ran halfway across the country to come here,” Sam shrugged halfheartedly. “What’s the difference? Plane just got you here faster.”
Holy fuck, she has a point.
“You’re seeing reason,” Darren chuckled as he set his empty bottle back down. “I think you know what you need to do now.”
I stood up, with the clearest head I’d had all freaking week.
“I do,” I told him.
The two of them stood up with me.
“Good,” he grinned, extending his hand. “Put ‘er here, and go get her.”
I laughed at the gesture, pulling him into a heavy embrace. As we separated, Sam drew close, and we hugged as well.
“You’ll do great,” she smiled. “We both believe in you, Dalton. Just remember: don’t be a stranger. You can come back out here without some sort of existential crisis, you know.”
“I can’t thank you both enough,” I told them.
“You can stay here the night if you need to,” Darren told me, glancing at his wife just to be sure.
“No need,” I told him. “I’m calling the rental place and the airlines on the way, dropping the car off, and putting myself square on the next plane back home.”
“Just like that, huh?” Sam asked.
“Just like that.”
That’s exactly what I did.
I seriously lucked out with a plane headed back home, although the protocols of the rental lot – and the security line at the airport itself – almost made me miss the flight.
But a few hours later, I was stepping off of the plane, climbing back onto my motorcycle, and roaring down the Interstate towards her apartment.
While I stopped to pump gas, I happened to flip Facebook open. Flicking through my feed absentmindedly, I noticed a status update that she’d posted a few minutes beforehand.
“Refreshing end to a long day. Bon appetite!”
Clara apparently had geo-location turned on for her updates, so I conveniently learned that she was at some swanky Italian restaurant in town.
She must be having dinner with Natalie, I reasoned to myself while I disengaged the pump and hit the road. Surprisingly, it wasn’t too far from my location – I could probably make it in about ten minutes.
Thank you, intrusive Facebook, I sighed. I liked to leave that setting off, but it was easy to forget it was there once you’d checked in somewhere once.
A few red lights and a missed turn later, and I was parking my motorcycle. I kicked down the stand, pulled the helmet off, and strolled in the direction of the front door.
It was only as I pushed the doors open that I realized she might be having dinner with our parents instead… which wouldn’t exactly be great for a public declaration of love.
Well… I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.
I began scanning the tables from the foyer as the hostess drew my gaze towards her podium.
“How many?” She asked sultrily.
“Looking for someone. Won’t be long.”
She nodded, her eyes blatantly drawn to my broad build and biker threads, but a quick glance from me cut her attention elsewhere.
Can’t see her from here, I thought to myself as I stepped around the side and began scanning the restaurant. A pit began to form in my stomach. What if I’d missed her? What if she’d left before I could get here?
That’s when I finally spotted her.
Clara was sitting at a booth, but it wasn’t Natalie with her. Nor was it our parents.
It was that ex-boyfriend of hers.
I took a step forward to confront them.
But then I paused, because she was laughing, and the guy was holding her hand across the table. He lifted it to kiss her knuckles, and she quieted her laughter but didn’t pull back.
Anger exploded inside my core.
My entire world ruptured around me.
I couldn’t just stand here and gawk openly at them. Guests at other tables were starting to stare at me, and it was only a matter of time before one of them looked my way.
Fine. Keep him.
With a heavy heart, I resigned myself to my fate, turned on the heel of my boot, and strolled back out into the crushing heaviness of the night.
Nineteen
For one conflicting moment, I thought I saw Dalton across the restaurant in biker gear. But Jeremy was making me laugh at some stupid impression he was doing, and when I looked again the biker guy was gone.
Probably someone else, I thought to myself. Besides… how the hell would he know I was here?
Jeremy hadn’t been as monstrous as I remembered. In fact, this had been the most fun I’d had all week… although I was already thinking that this last-minute dinner date was a pale substitution for the real thing.
The real thing?
I shook my head.
No. I’ve got to move on… for both of our sakes.
“…Don’t you think?”
I blinked a few times. “I’m sorry, what was that? What don’t I think?”
A resigned smile crossed his face. “Yeah, that’s what I figured.”
“Hmm?”
“You’ve been distracted all night, Clara. Fading in and out of our conversation. I mean, I’ve been enjoying myself a lot, but I’m getting the feeling that you’re not really here with me…”
“What? No, of course I am!” I smiled, chuckling in a little too high a pitch. “I’m sorry, I just thought I saw someone for a moment. Here I am.”
I felt a slight br
ush of warmth as he took my hand again, although the feeling passed quickly. What’s getting into me? I know I shouldn’t really get into anything else, especially not with THIS guy of all people… do I really just want a rebound fuck?
That didn’t feel right.
I’d been half-heartedly flirting with him off and on all through dinner, building up towards something, but I was starting to think that maybe this had been a big mistake. Jeremy was clearly far more into this than I was. He could say what he wanted, but I knew him, and I knew how silver-tongued he could be… maybe it wasn’t right to lead him along…
“You’re fading out again,” he muttered, shaking his head. He pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, leaning back and running his fingers through his hair. He was objectively attractive, but I just didn’t have the energy for this... or to fight his dominating nature, if it came down to that.
“Look, do you want to just go back home? We don’t have to do this,” he told me. I sensed bitterness entering his voice. “I was being honest when I told you earlier that I was just trying to get your mind off things… but if you’re not going to put in any effort…”
“No, that’s not it at all…” I replied hastily, feeling bad. I knew he was doing it on purpose, spinning my apathy as a guilt-trip, but that didn’t change a thing about falling for the trap. “Wait, we don’t have to do what?”
“Fuck,” he shrugged. “I thought that’s what we were doing after this – just a harmless, meaningless little fuck. I mean, isn’t that what you wanted – a rebound fuck to get your mind off of that guy? Something to clear your head…”
I was almost indignant, but the sexy little smirk that crossed his lips, and the way his eyes seemed to twinkle, undermined my firm opposition to the idea.
Particularly when I started to remember just how talented he was in bed – nothing like Dalton, but he could still make me cum almost on command…
My mind drifted back to the conversation we’d had over the phone. Did we even TALK about having sex? It was hard to remember, although it must have only been an hour or two before. Ever since the moment I thought Dalton walked in, nothing else had really mattered.
