Almost Married

by Kylie Gilmore

  She jumped up so fast her chair knocked over. She turned and ran. Straight out of the restaurant. Down the sidewalk. No destination in mind, just needing some space to cry in peace. She’d thought she’d put her time with Griff behind her, but now here he was, messing with her head, reminding her of all that she’d lost back then. Footsteps pounded behind her. Had to be Dave. Griff would never leave his audience mid-song.

  She stopped and turned to face the man she loved, who was now trying to be just like the man she no longer loved. She wanted the old Dave back. A tear leaked out.

  “Don't cry,” he said, drawing her in close for a hug.

  She looked over his shoulder. “I'll cry if I damn well feel like it.”

  He pulled back to look in her eyes. His head cocked to the side and the ogre ears bobbled. “Is it Griffin you're crying about?”

  She snatched the ogre ears off his head. It was hard to take him seriously like that. “It's that stupid song.”

  “Oh. What about it?”

  “He wrote it right after my mom died.” The tears came in earnest. “I miss her so much.”

  He held her and stroked her hair while she sobbed into his shirt. A few moments later, she took a shaky breath. She looked up at his concerned face and took a chance, telling him the other part of why she was upset. “His songs remind me of when we were together. And it hurts because he abandoned me and cheated on me, and I hate that I feel anything about him at all!”

  “He never deserved you. Don’t listen to his songs anymore.”

  She pulled away. “And you! Stop trying to one-up Griff. He sings a song, you sing a song. He has a tattoo, you get a tattoo. I just want you to be yourself. It's not a competition, and I'm not some prize to fight over.”

  He wiped away a tear with the pad of his thumb. “That's where you're wrong. You are a prize, and I will fight for you.”

  “I want the old Dave back. Just ignore Griff. He's leaving the day after tomorrow.”

  “Good. But I am the same person. I didn't sing you that song because Griffin's a rock star. I sang it so you'd know how I feel.” At her silence, he added, “It was Barry’s idea.”

  She wiped her eyes, realizing that he couldn't have known that Griff had serenaded her the other night. “What about the tattoo?”

  He smiled sheepishly. “Impulse decision. I liked the metaphor.”

  Griff jogged up to them. “Hey, you didn't hear the end of the song. They're shouting encore. My driver's dropping off my guitar. Steph, come back inside and listen. I have a new song I really want you to hear. I wrote it last night. You’re my muse, babe.”

  “I'm sure you can manage without me,” Steph said. His claim that she was his muse was short-lived once the record company brought in their people.

  Griff looked surprised that anyone would want to miss him performing new material. He recovered in a snap and turned to Dave. “Nice ogre act, geek.”

  “Not everyone can be a brainless rock star,” Dave snapped.

  Griff rushed at Dave, fisting his Shrek T-shirt in one hand. “I got a degree in real life while you were cozied up with your calculator.”

  “I have to warn you,” Dave said, squinting his eyes like a tough guy, even though Griff still had him by the shirt. “I've defeated the Street Fighter video game in two hours twenty-three minutes.”

  “Ooh, I’m real—” Griff’s sarcastic reply was cut off when a petite woman came charging out of the restaurant and launched herself on Griff’s back, nearly knocking both men over. Griff dropped his hold on Dave and grabbed the arms of the woman who was about to choke off his oxygen supply.

  “Chris!” Dave exclaimed.

  Steph turned to Dave with wide eyes. “You know her?”

  Griff managed to get the crazed woman off his back and twisted around to pin her wrists in one hand. “Who the hell are you?”

  The woman smiled demurely at complete odds with her uber-calm, uber-threatening voice. “I’m Christina Olsen, and you messed with the wrong guy.”

  Dave cleared his throat. “Stephanie, meet my sister, Christina.”

  Christina smiled sweetly. “Hi, Stephanie, nice to meet you finally. I’ve heard a lot about you. All good things. I’d shake your hand, but I’m a little tied up.”

  Griff released her wrists and took a step closer to Steph. Christina wasn’t happy with that move. She did a head swivel that Steph wished she could pull off before going toe-to-toe with Griff.

  “Okay, we all know who you are,” Christina said, jabbing her finger in Griff’s chest. She lowered her voice dramatically “The great Griffin Huntley.” More finger jabs followed that had Griff backing up as Christina continued. “Don’t get me wrong.” Jab. “I’m your number one fan.” Jab. “But you crossed a line here with Stephanie.” Jab. Griff’s back was against the wall, and Christina was right up against his front. “She asked you for a divorce, very nicely I hear. She’s in love with my brother, who’s in love with her back, so I ask you”—she paused and took them all in—“who doesn’t belong in this picture?”

  “Chris, I don’t need you to—” Dave started.

  “I’ll tell you who doesn’t belong in this picture,” Griff snarled. “You and your brother. Steph was my wife first.”

  Steph backed away from the pair and stood by Dave’s side, who promptly wrapped his arm around her.

  Christina and Griff stared each other down. People started coming out of the restaurant, probably wondering where Griff had gone after promising more music.

  “Oh, look,” Christina said with a big smile. “Your favorite. We have an audience.”

  Then she threw her arms around Griff’s neck and kissed him for all she was worth. Steph turned to Dave for his reaction to this strange turn of events when he shocked the hell out of her by gripping her hair in one hand as his mouth crashed down over hers. His other arm wrapped around her waist, pressing her flush against his body. The kiss was hard, raw, and unbelievably erotic as his tongue thrust inside. She could do nothing but cling to him as he ravaged her mouth, lost in the unexpected feverish kiss.

  ~ ~ ~

  Griff staggered back as Christina finally let him up for air.

  “Told you,” Christina said to Griff with a smirk. She inclined her head to where Dave was still kissing Steph like a sex-starved man. He probably was. Griff couldn’t imagine a guy like Dave saw a lot of action. So why did he have to go after the one woman Griff couldn’t let go?

  Griff set the crazy woman away from him. He scanned the crowd and quickly found Mandy in her usual hoodie.

  He headed in her direction when Christina pulled on his arm. “What?” he snapped.

  She gave him a withering look. The woman had balls, he’d give her that much. Most women were all smiles and soft words around him.

  She leaned up on tiptoe to whisper in his ear and, in that terrifying moment between when her mouth reached his ear and when she finally spoke, he thought she might just bite his ear off.

  “If you touch a hair on Dave’s head,” she whispered, “I will castrate you.”

  He straightened, relieved to still have his ear. “Message received.”

  Mandy was taking pictures of him and this lunatic now. He had to stop her. He was about to leave when Christina pulled on his arm again.

  He turned back to her. “I get it!”

  She smiled up at him under her lashes and pressed a card into his hand. “Call me if you ever want to be with a real woman. Ya know, instead of a plastic doll.”

  He pointed at her. “You’re crazy.”

  “Only when called upon,” she said with a wink.

  She didn’t leave, just stood there studying him, making him feel uncomfortable. He turned away. “Mandy, wait up!”

  Mandy was moving at a pretty good pace down the sidewalk, heading toward her rental car. That was not good. She usually would talk to him. He broke into a run and caught up with her at her car.

  “You can’t use those pictures,” he said. “Please. It look
s really bad for me to be kissing one woman in front of my wife, let alone me watching my wife kiss another man.”

  “It doesn’t matter what I do, Griff,” she said in her throaty smoker’s voice. She pushed the hood off her head. She’d dyed her hair. Griff stared. Her blond hair was now dark brown and straightened. And long. It looked a lot like Steph’s hair, actually.

  “Did you get a wig?” he couldn’t help but ask. He didn’t remember her hair being that long.

  “A lot of people got those shots and video,” she huffed. “That stuff’s already online now. My contribution only means I get to keep my job.”

  “I’ll get you better shots soon,” he said. “I promise. You gotta help me out. Gotta make me look good. I need this.”

  She unlocked her car and slid in, powering down the window. “I go where you go, but you have to put in a little effort. The camera doesn’t lie.”

  “I know, I know. I will. Promise.”

  Mandy gave him a small smile, one corner of her mouth quirking up. “Don’t worry about her, Griff. I still love you.”

  He gave her his slow, sexy smile in appreciation of her always having his back. He’d never slept with her because that usually ended badly, and he couldn’t afford to have Mandy mad at him. She could do some serious damage to him in the press.

  “Thanks, Mandy, you’re the best.”

  “Remember that,” she said before she drove away.

  Chapter Six

  “I’m just saying, I wouldn’t kick Griffin Huntley out of bed.” Jaz waggled her eyebrows.

  “Me either,” Amber chimed in.

  Steph was with her friends at Amber’s house for a sorely needed girls’ night in on Friday night. They were eating Thai food in the living room.

  Amber’s husband, Bare, popped his head out of the kitchen and peered at them. “What’s this now?”

  “Girl talk,” Amber quickly said.

  “Amber,” he growled and went back to the kitchen.

  Amber’s face flushed. She leaped up from the sofa. “I’ll be right back, guys.”

  It was really quiet in the kitchen, so Steph whispered her confession to Jaz. “I haven’t even gotten Dave into bed. Every time I see Dave, Griff shows up.”

  Jaz’s eyes widened. “Is Griff stalking you?”

  Goose bumps ran down Steph’s arms at the thought. It was strange the way Griff kept popping up. She hadn’t told him where she’d be any of those times.

  She ate some more pad Thai, considering. “Maybe he is,” she finally said.

  Jaz leaned forward across the coffee table. “Would he hurt you?”

  “No, never,” Steph replied immediately. Not the Griff she knew. They’d only dated six months before their three months of marriage, but he’d been open with her, even vulnerable at times, as he shared his sometimes painful memories of childhood with her. And he was so good with Joey. He wasn’t a violent man. At least not until he’d gotten a look at Dave. Of course, Dave hadn’t seemed like the type to get into a physical altercation before he met Griff either. It was like some kind of manly pissing contest. Ridiculous.

  Steph went back to her meal.

  Jaz chewed her basil chicken before saying, “Still, it’s creepy.”

  Steph waved that away. “He’s leaving tomorrow, so I don’t have to worry.”

  “You can call Chief O’Hare if you feel unsafe,” Jaz said. “You know he’ll take that seriously.”

  “I know.” Especially since Steph was friends with Ryan O’Hare’s wife, Liz. They both worked at Clover Park Elementary.

  They went back to eating in comfortable silence. A few minutes later, Steph glanced at Amber’s food sitting untouched. “Amber?” she called.

  “Coming!” Amber gasped.

  Jaz and Steph exchanged an astonished look. Omigod, Jaz mouthed.

  I know, Steph mouthed back.

  “Should we go?” Jaz whispered.

  They stared at each other, then burst into laughter, covering their mouths to smother the noise. Jaz got up and tiptoed toward the kitchen.

  “Don’t!” Steph hissed.

  Jaz stopped and did a little thrusting move. “Oh, Bar-ry,” she whispered.

  “Shh-shh-shh,” Steph whispered, giggling.

  They went back to eating. Jaz kept holding a hand to her ear like she was listening for the big finish.

  Amber finally returned, smoothing her hair. “So, what’d I miss? Bare needed help with something in the kitchen.”

  “Something,” Jaz quipped.

  Amber returned to her lemongrass chicken. “Mmm…something.”

  Jaz filled her in. “We think Griff might be stalking Steph, but she’s not worried, and he’s leaving tomorrow. Have you met him?”

  “Yeah,” Amber said. “He was at the school.” She bit her lip, eyes dancing mischievously, and said louder, “He’s even better looking in person.”

  Bare popped his head back in. “Amber,” he growled.

  Amber flushed, but stayed where she was.

  Bare returned to the kitchen.

  Amber giggled. “I’ll pay for that later,” she whispered in a delighted tone. She turned to Steph. “You want to stay here tonight so you don’t have to worry about Griff? We’ve got a guest room.”

  “As much as I’d love to hear you and Bare going at it”—Steph raised her voice for Bare’s benefit—“all night long, I’ll pass.”

  “You can stay with me,” Jaz offered.

  “That’s okay,” Steph said. “I’ll be fine.”

  After dinner, they drank wine and watched this insane Zombie Bonanza show Amber was obsessed with. Jaz kept throwing popcorn at the screen every time a victim innocently went to check out a strange noise. Steph relaxed for the first time since Griff had showed up in town. She couldn’t wait for him to go back to L.A. Things would get back on track with Dave. If that kiss outside Garner’s was any indication, Dave had a raw, carnal side to him she was very willing to explore.

  Later that night, Bare insisted on driving Steph and Jaz home, even though it was just a few blocks’ walk in the dark. She waved goodbye to her friends, checked the dark street for a limo, and finding none, let herself in the house with no worries. Not that she could see all that much. There was only one streetlight, but a limo would’ve stuck out, she was sure.

  She climbed the stairs, opened her front door, turned on the light, and froze.

  Something was off. Her lamp was knocked over, and the fake oranges in the decorative bowl were scattered all over the floor. Her evil cat, Loki, was perched on top of the sofa, hissing at something on the other side, out of sight.

  Heart racing, Steph thought of all those innocent, stupid people she’d just watched on Zombie Bonanza that walked straight into the zombies’ clutches. She grabbed the lamp as a weapon and slowly crossed to where Loki was staring. Something furry and gray scurried past, running right over her foot. “Ahhh!”

  Loki jumped off the sofa and raced to the bedroom.

  Holy shit. Was that a mouse or a rat? It looked huge. Steph shuddered. She set the lamp back on the end table and tiptoed to the kitchen, where the mouse-rat had been heading. That would explain the mess if Loki had been chasing it around her apartment. The beast was huddled behind Loki’s food dish.

  The beady black eyes stared at her. It smelled her fear. The whiskers twitched, revealing sharp little teeth. It was a largish mouse, she was pretty sure, not a rat. She searched for something to catch it with. She couldn’t sleep tonight knowing a mouse was loose in her apartment. What if it burrowed in her hair? Or stuck its little mouse head in her mouth when she was sleeping? Or tried to eat her eyeball?

  “Don’t move,” she told it. “I’m getting a nice comfy box for you.”

  She slowly backed away so as not to provoke it and went to her bedroom in search of a shoebox.

  She peered under her bed, where the cat was huddled. “Loki, get your ass out here and earn your keep.”

  She reached for Loki, who swiped at her
. His claws caught her hand. “Ow! You’re a disgrace to cats everywhere. I can’t believe you only hunt my hair clips. This is what you were made for!”

  She held her hand. It stung so bad. A few drops of blood appeared. Great. Now the giant mouse would smell blood and try to devour her, one sharp little bite at a time, in her sleep. She opened her closet and pulled a shoebox off the top shelf, leaving the shoes behind. She returned to the kitchen with the shoebox. No mouse.

  “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” she called. “I’ve got a nice comfy new house for you.”

  She looked all around the kitchen, opened all the cabinets, and peered behind the appliances. She wandered out to the living room. “Ah!” she yelped.

  It was on the sofa! She ran toward it, box open, and it zipped across the sofa and disappeared into her bedroom. She halted. She’d never sleep again. Loki came tearing out of there and huddled in the corner of the living room. She slammed the bedroom door.

  She’d have to move, that was all. If that beast was sitting on her pillow, she could never sleep on it again. She grabbed the blanket from the sofa and covered the crack under the bedroom door. At least now it was contained. But what if it pooped on her bed? She’d have to burn the sheets.

  She ripped back the blanket and flung open the door. She checked all over the bedroom. “Here, mousie.” She stomped her feet to get it moving and was about to give up when a flash of gray zipped out the door. Loki hissed. She ran to the living room. No mouse. Loki was on top of the sofa, his eyes so wide the whites were showing.

  “You are so fired,” she told Loki. And because there was no way she could sit down or do anything until that mouse was out of her house, she called Dave.

  “Are you busy?” she asked. She could hear guy voices in the background.

  “Nah.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Sure?”

  “It’s just Pokémon night with the guys.”

  “Poker?” Sometimes his Brooklyn accent showed itself on certain words. He dropped his Rs when she least expected it.

  “No, Pok-e-mon.” He enunciated each syllable clearly.