by Brinda Berry
“I’d say there’s something a lot more than friends there.”
“Well, yeah, once upon a night. We both…” I shrug my shoulders. “We weren’t thinking clearly. It just happened. But we’re back to being friends.”
“He doesn’t want to be just friends. Take it from me.”
Yeah. My baby daddy would happily take me on as a fuck buddy as well. No thank you, sir.
“He’s not in love with me,” I say. “I mean he loves me, but he doesn't love me like that."
“And what exactly is that. Love is love, right?”
“He loves me like my brother loves me. He loves me like my girlfriends love me."
Webb opens the mini-fridge in the store’s break room. He grabs a couple of juices and places them on the wood table. “You guys are physically attracted too, or you wouldn’t be…” He motions a hand at my middle area.
I grab the nearest chair and scoot into the table. “Can we change the subject? Please? I am so happy about all the changes in the store. Really. You are a miracle man.”
I slide a container toward him. “Carrot bran muffins. Made them myself. Full of protein. Guaranteed to make you strong.”
He wrinkles his nose. “I don’t want to know they’re good for me. How do they taste?”
“They kick ass. Here.”
Webb fearlessly bites into his breakfast. “Yes. You can bake,” he says around a mouthful.
“Now that you know all my drama, tell me about you. You aren’t anything like William.”
“Yeah. I know.”
I wait for him to elaborate, but he smiles at me while he takes another mouthful. After what seems several minutes, he grabs a napkin and wipes his mouth. The smile fades. “I don’t tell many people this. I didn’t know William until I was a teenager. My mother passed away from complications of her diabetes. It was just me and my mom until then. Before she died, she contacted William and told him he had a son. He took me in, gave me his last name, taught me how to succeed in college and the world.”
“Holy soap opera.” My hand flies over my mouth. “Sorry. It’s just really bizarre…I mean, you and William aren’t anything alike…I’m going to shut up now.”
Webb laughs. “I know. We should be on a daytime talk show with this one. Right? Okay. Enough about that. What else do you need to know?”
“Well, let me see. You’re not married, or you don’t wear a ring. Girlfriend?”
“Are you asking for yourself? Because be still my heart.” He places a hand over his chest. He’s kidding, but Dane will have a jealous coronary if he thinks my new business partner flirts with me.
The thought almost makes me smile. A vain, self-serving thought. Still, it would be nice to think Dane cared about a man being attracted to me.
Then I might think he was actually attracted to me as a woman versus his baby mama.
“I’m happy being single,” I lie. “Answer the question or you can’t have another muffin.”
“You play dirty. Okay. No lady friends. I date sometimes. But it honestly gets old when I wonder if they like me or the Walters’ money.”
He’s serious and I’m suddenly sad for him. Good-looking, rich guys have problems, too.
“Why did you really want to be in the bookstore biz?” I ask and nibble on my muffin. “Not that I’m ungrateful, but it doesn’t seem to…I don’t know…fit?”
“Because I don’t want to only chase the mighty dollar. I want everything in life and a man can’t have that if he spends all his time pissing and moaning about how much he hates his job. The best wealth is making a living at things you love to do. Right now, I want to be here. I did lots of stupid things as a younger man and learned a lot of expensive lessons. I don’t plan to make those mistakes twice.”
The door chimes announcing a customer and my mouth turns down. “Oh well,” I say. “I really wanted to hear the rest, but duty calls.”
I abandon my half-eaten muffin and carry the juice container with me to the front. Webb’s footsteps sound behind me on the wood floor.
“Oh, it’s just you,” I say to Harper. “I thought you were a customer.”
Harper pulls off her sunglasses and strokes a hand over her head to tame her flyaway blonde hair. “Hey, girl. I’m me and a customer. I need to run to the history section and grab a book for my dad’s birthday before I visit with you.” She says all this while she continues to walk through the store.
Webb gives a low and barely audible whistle. “Who is that?”
I tilt my head as I look from Webb to Harper. “Eyes back in your head,” I mutter. “She’s Leo’s girlfriend.”
He waits a beat before responding with a wicked grin. “If the woman’s not wearing a ring…”
I knock my elbow into his side. “Cut it out.”
The door chimes again, and I glance up as Kiley bustles inside. Her baby bump—which is really no longer a bump as much as a boulder—protrudes in an alarming way. She waves a bangle covered wrist at me as she heads toward Harper in the back of the store.
“Hey there,” I call to her back because she’s already gone.
Webb clears his throat and stares after her with a twinkle in his eye. “And who is that?”
“That's Kiley. And if you didn’t notice—as if you couldn’t—she’s very pregnant and very married.”
“Well, she’s certainly pretty. Pregnant doesn’t bother me. The married thing is the deal breaker.”
“Ewww. Don’t be lusting after my pregnant friend. That’s just wrong.”
Webb walks around the counter and powers up the cash register that looks like a giant iPad with a drawer. “I wasn’t lusting. Only admiring. You have any more friends who aren’t dating your brother or wearing a wedding ring?”
“The good ones are hard to come by. I’ll let you know if I think of someone,” I mutter and stretch onto my tiptoes so I can see above the bookcases. Something bizarre is going on. Harper and Kiley are almost hidden from view, but I can tell their heads are drawn together in a conspiracy.
“I'll be right back.” I toss my juice container into the trash and stride to the back of the store to see what this is all about. It’s been a while since I’ve seen either one of them. Harper has kept her distance. Kiley is busy trying to juggle her career and getting ready for a new baby.
The minute I turn the corner and walked down the aisle toward them, they pull apart and give me sweet smiles. This is not good. “You two are making me nervous. Why are you here? What are you whispering about?”
“We have to ambush you. It’s the only way to draw you out of seclusion.” Harper says. “We would like to take you to breakfast and talk about a baby shower.”
“I don’t want a baby shower and I’ve already had breakfast. They play stupid games and gossip.”
“For heaven’s sake,” Harper moans. “This isn’t our mothers’ baby showers. And Kiley’s shower was fun, wasn’t it? We’ll have a great time. Come on and humor me. You have no idea how excited I am about your babies. I cannot wait to hold them and babysit.”
I suddenly remember that Harper lost a baby once. I want to kick myself for being so insensitive.
“All right, all right. But we keep the list small and intimate. Family, only. And I mean it. I think pregnancy makes me stubborn.”
Kiley tucks a dark strand of hair behind her ear. “Okay, my pushy but well-meaning cousin, pregnancy makes me stupid. It’s like my brain gets all the leftover energy. Three days ago, I was putting away the groceries and stored the milk container in my kitchen cabinet.”
“That’s not so bad,” I say.
“Three days ago,” Kiley squeezes her eyes shut as if blocking out a bad memory. “We found it this morning. It was very, very bad.”
I extend my arms to them both. “Group hug, you guys. I swear I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Kiley’s hug is more to the side, with her belly almost knocking me off balance. “Can we come back and take you to lunch then?” she asks.
“I can run and do some errands. Harper is spending the day helping me shop for nursing bras.”
“Yes. I’d love that. Now come meet Webb Walters, my new business partner. Brilliant guy. Handsome. Tattooed. Rich. For some reason…crazy about old failing bookstores. But don’t hold it against him.”
We sit at a small Mexican restaurant with colorful piñatas and sombreros hanging along the ceiling. I inhale the scent of cooking fajitas, and for once I do not want to lose the contents of my stomach. “I’ll have chicken fajitas, a side order of guacamole, and lemonade.”
The waitress shifts her attention to Harper.
“I’ll have the same thing she’s having, but I’ll take a margarita on the rocks.” Harper snaps the pages of her menu closed. She hands it to the waitress.
Kiley studies the menu and flips to the next page. “Okay. I think I’ll have what she’s having, minus the margarita but add some of that red punch. I’ll also have an order of cheese dip and….oh, there’s that salsa verde! I’ll have a side of that too so I can share. And do you have those cinnamon sugar things for dessert? I’ll have an order of those for dessert.”
Harper giggles. “The cook is going to wonder if a football team came in for lunch.”
I lick my lips. “I am so glad to like food again. Food and I haven’t been friends for a while. But I’m ravenous and thankful you guys dropped by. I’m sorry if I haven’t been the best friend lately.”
Kiley leans over (no easy feat) and pats my hand. “No worries. Dad said I’m going to be hormonal, stupid, tired, and beautiful. It’s all part of the process. So you get a pass on anything you do.”
I can’t stop my eyebrows from drawing together. “Your father is giving you advice about being pregnant?”
Kiley gives my hand a squeeze before returning to her side of the table. “The man calls me every day. I think he misses me around the house. It’s sort of sweet. He’s really just repeating things that he remembers from when my mother was pregnant. And I’ll take it because I only have him, Gunner and you guys to rely on and make this the best pregnancy ever.”
I stare long and hard at her. I’ve been avoiding my friends. Avoiding Dane. But really these are the people who are my family. And I could do nothing more wrong than to shut them out of my life.
My heart thumps harder. Shoot. I thought it was over this emotional stuff. “Love you guys. I’m so glad I have you.”
Kiley rests her arms on her belly as if it’s a small shelf. “I am so sorry that you had morning sickness. I skipped that completely. All I want to do is eat and…” She leans forward so she can whisper across the table. “…and have sex. That’s all I can think about. It’s like I suddenly understand how men think.”
"So that feeling is normal?” I ask this matter-of-factly since I don’t remember reading about it in the pregnancy books. This would explain why I want to jump Dane every time I see him. Reason one-thousand and one for staying far away from him.
Kiley shrugs. “I don't know if it's normal or not. But Gunner is happy to oblige. Why? Are you horny too?” Kiley asks.
My cheeks burn fiery hot. It’s not that sex is anything to be ashamed of, right? “Maybe. But I didn’t want it announced to the entire restaurant.”
I look to the right and left and lock eyes with the cute guy at the next table. I quickly look away.
Pregnancy must have impaired Kiley’s hearing. She continues, “Your hormones are different right now. I do know that. Granted, Gunner and I can’t have sex in all the same positions, but we’ve become very creative. Do you have a book on that at the store? My man is willing to try anything.”
Harper can’t stop grinning. “Maybe you should share some of these positions so I can try them with Leo.”
I shudder and put both hands over my ears. “Warning. Gag alert. Remember that I am the sister. TMI.”
Kiley grins at Harper. “She thinks you two don’t have sex. That’s so sweet. Anyway, I’m trying to get in as much quality time with Gunner as possible. My production assistant had a baby last year and spent all her nights breastfeeding and walking a colicky baby. Sex took the back seat. You had better get it on with Dane as much as possible now.”
I heave a weary side. “How many times do I need to tell both of you that Dane and I are going to be friends and nothing more. I want a guy who is crazy about me, not just one who tries to do the right thing because I’m knocked up.” My voice is unconvincing and tight.
Harper and Kiley exchange a loaded and disbelieving look.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Kiley says. “Dane is in love with you. Can’t you see that?”
“He’s never told me that.” The whine in my voice makes me cringe. I look around the restaurant, wishing we’d have a sudden kitchen fire or something to get me out of this conversation. I force myself to smile and shake my head. “Enough about Dane. What about this shower where you’re going to make me play baby party games and all that stuff I’ve been waiting my entire life to play? Guess how many pounds Josie’s gained? That should be a fun one.”
She smiles at my sarcasm. “List. We need a list of people and addresses,” Kiley says and hauls a notepad from her bag. She flips it to a blank page. “Grandma Lulu, Dane’s mom, friends…you know. We can’t have the shower at the cabin and our house is still too much in the construction stage. Can we just do it at your house? Harper and I will hostess, but we’ll put your address on the invitations.”
“Sure. That’s fine,” I say. The waitress places our drinks and chips with salsa on the table. I take a gulp of lemonade, thinking about my next words. “Did you know that Dane is adopted?
“How come he’s never mentioned this?” Harper frowns. “But I can see how he wouldn’t. It’s not like I tell people a lot about my parents.”
“No,” Kiley answers. “Really? His parents are super-sweet. I’ve met both of them at the bar.”
“Yeah. Well, I recently met his birth mother. I might put her on the invitation list if Dane says it’s okay. And a warning…she’s really odd and says whatever she’s thinking. Even more than I do.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Harper says. “We can handle anything. That’s really nice of you to think of her. This shower just got more interesting.”
I shake some salt from a tortilla chip. “Interesting is a mild description. We’ll see what Dane says.”
If I put her on the list, I’m doing it for him. I can already imagine the things Ellen might say at a shower. “How much did that cake cost?” or “What if you tear wide open during a natural birth? An episiotomy will keep you all tight down there—a real plus for sex.”
Interesting. That’s what I’m going to say with a straight face. Because Ellen was awfully interested in my sex life.
She has no idea how much I think about it at the moment.
Every time Dane’s fingers accidentally brush mine. Sex. Every time I smell his cologne. Sex. Every time we make eye contact.
Sex.
Chapter Fifteen
The Past
Josie, seventeen-years-old
“Can you come and get me, please?” I whisper into my cell phone. It’s past midnight and the streets are dark. I look up for street signs on the traffic lights. “I just left Full Moon,” I say, forcing my voice to sound even. “I’m crossing 5th by the arena.”
“How will I see you? I don’t think you should be standing on the street.” Dane’s authoritative voice calms me somewhat. But I still can’t stop the shaking. I am going to be in so much trouble if my parents ever find out.
“I don’t know. I’ll look around. Do you want me to text you if I find a better place to wait?” I take a deep breath to steady my nerves. It’s not like I’m in the middle of the woods. It could be worse.
I hear noise on Dane’s end of the line. The car engine hums in the background, and I know he is heading my way.
“We can stay on the phone,” he says. “Go down another block past the arena and stay where I can see you.”<
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My legs itch to run, but I stay calm. A homeless lady peers from an alley and asks me for change. I can only shake my head at her as I continue forward to a better area.
I walk across the next street. “No, I can’t stay on the call. My cell phone doesn't have enough battery. I’ll text you when I get to the next place to wait and I’ll be fine. Don't worry.”
I press the button to end the call and quicken my steps. I’ll really owe him one. If I’d called Leo, it would be as bad as calling my parents.
I pride myself on being pretty smart most of the time – ninety-nine percent of the time.
Tonight is obviously the other one percent. Because I recognize this is an epic case of stupidity for me, and I really don't want someone chewing me out for it. I’ve learned my lesson.
I should never have agreed to go out with Liz. Should’ve known she’d ditch me at the first chance to latch onto some hottie.
Two lessons: don’t barhop with Liz, and carry cash and essentials in my pocket.
Except I don’t have a pocket. Okay. Third lesson. No slutty skirt missing a good pocket.
A group of men stand outside a bar smoking cigarettes. Several heads turn to watch me, and I pretend that I don’t notice. I glance at my cell phone and up at a street sign. Texting Dane my location, I tell myself that everything’s going to be okay.
“Hey sweetheart,” a gruff voice calls. “You want to party with us?"
I don’t look up. He’s probably talking to me, but there's no way I’m going to turn around and encourage a conversation.
“Hey,” he persists. “You know I’m talking to you right?”
Pretending to be busy on my dying phone, I study it like it’s my next final exam. Maybe he’ll leave me alone if I ignore him.
Within seconds, a guy appears in front of me. He takes a pull off his cigarette. “Hey,” he says. My knees knock together. I’m sure though, my face shows a calm reserve. I tap the screen of my cell phone.
