The Groom Wanted Seconds: A Novella

by Shirley Jump

  She spent a year hoping he’d become a man who would put their relationship first. Jeremy had been a nice guy, caring, sweet, but…distracted, his mind never fully there when they were together. Even when she’d broken up with him, she’d hoped he’d come to his senses and come after her. But he hadn’t.

  He’d let her go. Hadn’t even fought for their relationship. If anything had told her where she stood in his life and how he really felt, that was it.

  How could she date, or worse, marry a man who wouldn’t stand up for “them”? Who didn’t love her?

  She started to get to her feet. “Well, I should let you get back to your run. And finish my own, before it gets dark.”

  Jeremy laid a hand on her arm. “Stay. Please. Just for a little while.”

  When he touched her, desire rushed through Rebecca. A part of her wanted to forget they’d ever broken up, forget the reasons why she’d left him, and go back to that comfortable connection. Burrow deep inside it, like thick blankets on a cold winter’s night.

  “I should go,” she insisted.

  “And keep avoiding me?”

  “I’m not avoiding you, Jeremy. It’s just…we’re over and we should stay that way.” Except she had yet to shrug off his touch or to leave.

  “Why?” he asked. “Why should we stay that way?”

  She sighed. “We aren’t going to work, Jeremy. So just save your money, and quit sending roses.”

  “I thought you’d like them.”

  “I do, they’re gorgeous.” Her gaze met his, and for a second, she wished he got it, but damn it, he still didn’t. “But they’re not me. And that’s the problem. You never really knew me. And no matter what I feel when I look at you or touch you—and damn it all to hell, I still feel something when we touch,” the words jerked out of her, caught on a sob, but she shook her head and chased the tears back, “none of that is enough to change the truth.”

  He got to his feet and took both her hands in his. He had closed the gap between them, and she had to look up to see into his deep blue eyes. “Then give me the chance to get to know you.”

  She shook her head. “You had a year, Jeremy. It’s too late.”

  “I don’t understand. I know where you live, where you work, what you’re trying to build with Candace and Maria. How is that not knowing you?”

  She ran her thumbs over the backs of his hands, wanting to let go and at the same time, holding on. “I know everything about you. I know that your eyes look green on cloudy days. That you got that scar on your eyebrow when you were five and ran into a picnic table at the family reunion. I know you hate Brussel sprouts and love broccoli, and always wear green on Celtics game days. I know you played the clarinet in high school, but taught yourself guitar on the side. I know you are one of the smartest men I’ve ever met, and also,” her voice broke, her words lodged against the lump in her throat, “one of the dumbest.”

  Then she broke away and turned back to the path, her vision blurry, her stomach churning with hurt, disappointment. She’d taken four steps before Jeremy was there again, blocking her way. “I agree,” he said. “I am one of the dumbest men alive, because I let you get away. I don’t want to do that again, Rebecca.”

  She shook her head again. “Jeremy, I—”

  Then his mouth was on hers, and her objections disappeared in a bittersweet, tempting kiss that awakened feelings she thought had died. Feelings that had her curving into him, her arms sliding around his back. She tipped her head to allow him more access, to return the kiss, matching him with her lips, her tongue, her hands, wanting, desiring, needing, feeling everything through the thin fabric of their running shorts, the slickness of their damp skin. It was like coming home again, stepping into a room she knew well, but a room that engulfed her senses with a fire that overwhelmed her. Chased away logic, common sense, reality.

  And that was the whole problem. She stumbled back, out of his arms. “Don’t. Please, just don’t.”

  “I want you back, Rebecca. I’m not the same without you.”

  How she wanted to agree. To say yes would be easy—and be the worst thing she could do. She’d already made the mistake twice of letting sex overpower her better judgment, and settling for less than she deserved. Never again.

  “Even now, you can’t say it,” she said softly, shaking her head. “Jeremy, I can’t. If I do, we’ll end up where we were before, and that means in six months, or a year, or two, or worse, after we’ve gotten married and had two kids, I’ll get that same feeling I got at the beginning of the summer. That being in this relationship means I’m missing something, that I could have more of, if only I’d go after it. And thinking that only leads to…” she shook her head, willing away the tears that burned at the back of her eyes, “choices I should never make.”

  Then she started running again. The pavement was hard and real under her shoes, the hot early September sun merciless against her skin, and the path a way back home—and far away from another mistake.

  *~*~*

  Well. That had gone about as well as a fizzled firework. When Jeremy saw Rebecca on the path, he’d thought running into her had to be divine intervention or a gift from Fate that brought them to the same part of the congested city at the same time. Clearly, he’d been wrong.

  He thought of all she’d said, all the details she’d recalled. How the hell did she remember all that about him? And how had he missed the same about her? And what had she meant by “even now you can’t say it”? What hadn’t he said?

  He started to run after her, then paused on the pavement. Maybe it was better to do what he always did with an engineering problem—step back, evaluate, then plot a course of action. So he headed home, running at a light pace, letting his mind work while his body sweated. By the time he got back to his apartment, he had the answer.

  You have such a tight leash on everything, she had said back in June. It’s like you’re afraid to take a chance, to open your heart to what matters. You do it with your career.

  But not with me.

  She was right. Damn it all, she was a hundred percent right. He’d kept his emotions behind a wall, his default position for so long it had become second nature. He poured himself into blueprints for cold, inanimate things. And look what that had cost him.

  His gaze went back to the grassy path he had just left, and the woman he had lost. Then, like a blow to the head, he realized what he had left unsaid for far too long. He wasn’t just a fool, he was a colossal idiot. Maybe it was time to show Rebecca he had changed—

  And dare her to do the same.

  1/2 pound fresh cherries, pitted

  2 tablespoons sugar

  2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar

  1 pound fresh peaches, sliced (nectarines also work)

  Admit it—he still makes your heart race. So either you run after him, or you make something sweet to take your mind off his kisses. In a large saucepan, mix the cherries, sugar and vinegar. Bring to a boil then simmer until syrupy, about five minutes. Add the peaches, and simmer another three to four minutes, just enough to soften the peaches slightly.

  Pour into a serving dish and sprinkle with additional sugar if needed (all depends on how sweet your peaches are). Or serve over something with additional carbs, like pancakes, and eat until you forget the color or his eyes and the feel of his lips on yours.

  CHAPTER 6

  Two days went by. No more flowers showed up on her doorstep. No calls, no emails. Nothing from Jeremy at all. Nor did she see him on her daily runs.

  She told herself she was glad. It was what she wanted. Yet a part of her missed him—

  Heck, she’d always missed him. All summer she’d wondered where he was, what he was doing, and if he was thinking about her. Jeremy had been her first thought in the morning, her last thought in the dark of night. And damn it, he still was.

  Work. She’d concentrate on work. Not a man who hadn’t changed.

  “For you.”

  Rebecca jerked her head up t
o see the barista standing beside her with a steaming mug in her hands. “I…I didn’t order a coffee.”

  “No, but the gentleman did, and asked me to deliver it to you. Grande zebra mocha, half vanilla, half chocolate, with an extra shot?”

  Her exact order. The one she got every time she came to the coffee shop. “Thank you.” Rebecca accepted the mug, then craned her neck to see around the wiry server. Jeremy stood beside the shop’s counter, a To-Go cup in one hand. He gave her a smile and a nod. Jeremy? Her heart skipped a beat and her pulse skittered.

  “Thank you,” she mouthed.

  He nodded, then pushed off from the counter and crossed to her. Something about the way he walked, or the smile on his face, seemed to exude a new confidence, a new direction. A rush of heat ran through her, fluttering in her heart when he closed the distance between them and stopped by her table. “I saw you working, and thought you could use some caffeine.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.” She grinned. “I guess you did pay attention.”

  “To some things. Not enough.” He waved toward the coffee. “Enjoy.”

  He was going to leave, and even though she knew “broken up” meant she was supposed to let him go, she just…couldn’t. Maybe it was the perfect coffee order, maybe it was the new way he seemed to hold himself, maybe she was just lonely. Or maybe she hadn’t gotten over him like she thought. “Wait. Don’t go.” She gestured toward the opposite seat. The man had bought her a coffee, after all, and it would be rude not to ask him to stay. Yeah, that was why she offered, not because she was intrigued by this new side of Jeremy. “Do you want to sit down? I’m just working on the website design for Gift Baskets, and could use a break. We’re trying to keep costs down by learning the HTML code ourselves, and it’s not easy. At least to me.”

  His blue eyes caught hers and held for a long, heated second that sent desire coiling in her gut. Fierce, surprising want surged inside her. Good thing they were in a public place, or she’d be caving to that want.

  He shook his head. “Sorry, I can’t.” He raised the cup. “Enjoy your coffee.”

  Then he was gone, and her heart deflated like an inner tube in shark-infested waters. What the heck just happened? And who was that Jeremy?

  The door opened again, and Candace hurried in, heading straight for the table. She dropped into the chair beside Rebecca and hung her purse on the chair’s back. “You’ll never believe who I just saw outside.”

  “Jeremy.”

  “Yeah. How’d you know?”

  “He was here. He had the barista bring me a mocha. And when I asked him to stay and talk, he said…no.”

  “No? But I thought you said he wanted to get back together. Why would he pass up an opportunity to plead his case?”

  “I don’t know.” Rebecca fiddled with the handle on the mug. Was he done trying to win her back? If that was the case, shouldn’t she be happy? Relieved? “He seemed…different today, too. More confident. Stronger. Like the breakup didn’t bother him anymore.”

  “Maybe he had a good day at work?”

  “Or maybe he’s over me and moved on to someone else.” That was what she’d wanted, what she’d hoped would happen when she spent the summer in Indiana. Distance and time would cool Jeremy’s feelings and he’d move on, so she wouldn’t have to deal with the messy ramifications of their breakup when she returned. But the thought of that actually happening, of his smile being meant for someone else, of his lips kissing another’s—

  Made her stomach roll and pitch.

  “You are jealous.” Candace grinned like the Cheshire cat and sat back in her chair. “You still want him.”

  A protest came to Rebecca's lips, but she swallowed it back. She’d denied the truth for months, thinking she was doing the right thing, the easy thing. She’d been wrong. Rebecca sighed. “Yeah. I do. A lot.”

  “Then why not just go for it?”

  Rebecca closed the lid on her laptop and pushed it to the side. “What if I do, and we end up where we were before? Me doing all the work in the relationship and him just coasting along? He’s a nice guy, don’t get me wrong, and one who pushes all the right buttons,” at that her face heated, “but he always kept this wall up, like he was afraid of completely opening up to me. I mean, he asked me to marry him, but couldn’t say he loved me?”

  “What if he’s changed? What if losing you has made him realize his mistakes?”

  One cup of coffee, albeit one that had been perfectly ordered, didn’t mean anything, Rebecca told herself. “What if it hasn’t?”

  Candace laughed. “Oh, Rebecca, now you sound like me. Cautious Candace, always taking the safe, planned route.”

  “Nothing wrong with that.”

  “Well, no, says this self-proclaimed look-both-ways-then-look-again gal, but I think you’re taking the easy way out. I think at heart, you’re a little more spontaneous than that.”

  “Me?” Rebecca let out a nervous laugh. If Candace only knew. “I’m not at all.”

  Or not anymore. This summer, she’d been spontaneous and look where it almost landed her. A disaster of epic proportions, averted by fate or God, or luck. Whichever, she was just glad to be back to normal, and back on track.

  Except, a part of her still felt derailed, off-kilter. It had to be the hours she’d spent working on the website, or something.

  “Who was the one who up and decided in the middle of the day to run over to Government Center and hand out samples to businesspeople?” Candace asked.

  “Me. But all that did was cost us. We didn’t get a single order out of the hundred samples I gave out.”

  “No, we didn’t that week. But people took our cards, and tucked them away, and guess what?” Candace pulled out a sheaf of papers from her back pocket. “Three of them ordered just this week. We have a new baby basket to make up, a bridal shower one to do and four others for a lawyer for Secretary’s Day.”

  Rebecca flipped through the orders. “We got all these, just from that one day?”

  “Yup. When I asked each of them how they heard about us, they mentioned the cookies and the, I quote, “cute, friendly brunette” who gave them out.” Candace covered Rebecca’s hand with her own. “You made an impression, because you took a chance. People appreciate that.”

  “I’m just trying to build our business. All three of us are.”

  “You’re the whole reason behind Gift Baskets to Die For. You’re the one who had the idea, who led us down this crazy, awesome path. Without you, me and Maria would probably be—“

  “Exactly where you are right now. I wasn’t the only one with entrepreneurial spirit.”

  “Okay, you’re right about that. But you channeled it, Rebecca. You got us to take the risk. How many girls start a business before they even graduate college? And do it with friends, at that? It breaks all the rules we learned in class.”

  Rebecca laughed. “That’s true. Professor Hinkley would shudder to think of us doing this.”

  “Exactly. So why won’t you break the rules when it comes to Jeremy?”

  She looked away. And in her gut, she knew the real reason she had avoided Jeremy. Getting back together with him would mean telling him what had happened in the months they’d been apart. She was no longer the same woman who had left in June, and never would be. Jeremy had fallen for some idealized, perfect Rebecca, and she was far from that. “We just aren’t right for each other. That’s all.”

  “I think you’re scared.” Candace crossed her arms over her chest and nodded. “Yup. Terrified.”

  “Me? Of course not.”

  “What did you do when he asked you to marry him?”

  “Well, we broke up a few minutes later. I mean, I had already decided—”

  “You panicked and you ended it. Granted, his proposal sucked, and I’m not sure what’s up with him and saying those three little words, but keep in mind that he’s a guy and romance doesn’t come naturally to males. It’s up to women to show them the way.” Candace grinned
. “You could have just told him to ask you properly, and I bet Jeremy would have come back with a second, much better proposal—”

  “Timed to the last second, located in the perfect geographical coordinates for optimal star viewing or something.”

  Candace laughed again. “Yeah, probably. But that’s what you liked about him. Remember? His attention to detail. His perfectionism.”

  “He was attentive to all the details in his job.” Rebecca smoothed her hand across the table, whisking away invisible crumbs. “Just not the ones about me.”

  “Really?” Candace tapped the coffee mug on the table. “Because it seems to me he paid attention to the details that mattered.”

  *~*~*

  First thing Monday morning, George stepped out of his office, waved to Jeremy and called him into his office. “Great job on the tank project,” he said.

  “Thank you, sir.” Jeremy settled into the red leather visitor’s chair that faced George’s mahogany desk, and a large picture window that made the most of an incredible view of downtown Boston. On a clear day, the city sparkled like shiny new coins.

  “What’s up with you these past few days?”

  “What do you mean, sir?”

  “You’ve been a lot more outspoken. A real take charge guy in the meetings.” George leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “You even told Stan he was wrong. Nobody stands up to Stan.”

  That was true. Half the office was afraid of the six-foot-two boorish and loud engineer. Jeremy braced himself to be fired for taking Stan to task, then decided to be honest. Might as well go out telling the truth. “I just decided I was tired of losing out on what mattered to me. Being Mr. Nice Guy hasn’t gotten me very far.”

  George wagged a finger in disagreement. “That Mr. Nice Guy is the one I brought in for the internship. But…” he popped forward in the chair, “this new one, that’s the Jeremy I’m hiring. Assuming you can manage to keep a little of Mr. Nice Guy in there with Mr. Killer Instincts.”