by T. Hammond
It was my turn to hold the group’s attention with a highly-edited version of events beginning Christmas Eve, when David not only proposed, but was forced to reveal his current married status, ending with the conversation last night, when David confirmed his family’s arrival in Spokane for early Sunday afternoon. The facts themselves were adequately shocking, even scrubbed of the emotional drama.
The girls started to chatter about David’s perfidy, and I took the opportunity to zone out as they ranted about him walking out before the holidays without any explanations. I already had this conversation with myself a hundred times; I was starting to get over the anger and wanted to distance myself from their vigorous wrath.
Mmm, maybe there was room for one of those desserts the waiter had bragged about as we ordered cocktails. It had been thirty minutes, after all, since I proclaimed myself stuffed and unable to eat another bite of wild boar—I grinned, it was fun to be able to say that, even in my mind. I wonder if I could have our server bring a round of chocolate ganache tortes out to our table? I’m a firm believer all troubles can be soothed with the proper application of chocolate.
“So, where is the ring now?” Tara asked, bringing my attention back to the conversation at hand.
“Seriously? I spilled my guts about ‘the big deception’ and you want to know where the jewelry ended up?”
“Oh, come on, Teresa. Cheating boyfriends are a dime a dozen,” she said flippantly, “but, I’ll never touch another flawless, three carat, diamond engagement ring again in my lifetime. You can’t blame a girl for being curious about it.”
“What do you mean, ‘another’ ring? You’ve seen Teresa’s engagement ring?” Jinx asked, picking up immediately on the nuances.
“I never formally accepted it,” I protested. I’m pretty sure no one was listening. Technically, I had it in my possession… well, my safe anyway… but I hadn’t accepted the proposal.
“At David’s request, I researched and found the complete set for him. You didn’t think David Googled ‘diamond and platinum engagement ring sets on his own, did you? He told me he wanted a matched necklace, bracelet, and engagement ring for Teresa’s Christmas gift. I lucked out when I found an antique collection at an estate sale which also included earrings and a broach. Once I located the jewelry, he did his own negotiations to get the price down. I almost didn’t show him that lot, as it was way over the budget he gave me, but I really thought it was the prettiest set. David managed to talk them down to three-hundred thousand, for everything. He’s quite the negotiator.”
Antique? Three-hundred thousand? I reached for my margarita, gulping down a huge swallow. Brain freeze. To use Russ’ favorite phrase, crap on a cupcake! David had presented the diamond set to me during our mission in San Francisco, holding back the ring until Christmas Eve. After his abrupt departure, I’d collected each of the diamond pieces into a satin bag, and tossed them into the safe in my bedroom. I mentally cringed at my angry, cavalier treatment of such an expensive gift. My stomach was doing back flips, and suddenly dessert wasn’t very appealing anymore.
While money had never been a defining characteristic of my relationship with David, I was shocked at the amount he’d spent on jewelry I’d never be able to truly see. During the time Tara was researching, we hadn’t known about the mind-sight, so David purchased the settings for their tactile quality: delicate, yet complex, and easy to appreciate through touch. I knew they were quality pieces, but I had seriously underestimated what had been paid. Big difference from the fifty grand I’d assumed, and felt was easily affordable for him, versus over a quarter million, which, I suppose, was also affordable for him. Crap! “I hope he can get a good price when he resells them,” I muttered, taking a measured sip of my drink. I was still recovering from that last gulp.
“Oh, girlfriend. Please tell me you’re not returning the necklace?” Jinx moaned. “That has to be the most singularly beautiful piece of jewelry I have ever seen. It looked so beautiful on you.”
“Jinx, you know I can’t keep any of it. The jewels were given to me under false pretenses. He is a married man, and should never have given me such an extravagant gift when he wasn’t free to do so. I especially can’t keep it when it’s part of a set.”
The table was silent as my friends joined me in mourning the loss of the exquisitely detailed jewelry. “Another round,” Janey said, to the server who approached our somber vigil.
“Men are jerks,” Jinx grumbled.
“Sometimes, yeah. David’s such a nice guy,” Janey protested. “He seemed so trust-worthy. How come none of us saw this coming? Did we miss some huge-ass clue?”
“It’s not as if he had a large, red ‘A’ stitched onto his dress shirts,” I said, making reference to the book, The Scarlet Letter. “Even Bastian had no warning. David really doesn’t feel like he’s a married man. I don’t think he gave off any signals we missed. He simply lied by omission.”
“No kidding. The ring was definitely premeditated. He’s had since August when he asked me to locate the gift set,” Tara added. “The man should have taken care of his divorce before proposing.”
“Speaking of the wife,” Jinx groused, drawing out the last word as if it left a bitter taste in his mouth, “exactly how do you feel about having her and the kid in your house?”
I suppressed a grin threatening to break through at the sour tone of my friend’s voice. I got it, really I did. Each of them was indignant on my behalf, and I felt blessed by their support. “The kid’s name is Wesley, Wes for short, and it’s not his fault, or Marcia’s for that matter, that David neglected to mention them before now. These are two innocent people who will be going through a horrible few months, and we need to be strong and positive while they cope with cancer. David’s a good man who did a bad thing. Much as I’d love to yell and rant about how unfair life is being to me, my feelings pale in comparison to what Marcia is going through.”
“Yeah, I realize that, and I’m sorry.” Jinx sounded genuinely contrite. “I don’t really feel angry toward his wife and boy. Wes. But, it’s so hard to sit back and watch this unfolding. It’s like observing a train wreck in slow motion, yet I’m unable to reach out and pluck people to safety before it all crashes. I want to help, but I don’t know how.”
“Jinx is right, Teresa. It is going to be a very difficult couple of months for you. Add the child, Marcia’s illness, Bastian’s anger, David’s obvious presence, and the PreClan deadlines together, then stir in a dozen Mustangs underfoot, and it’s a recipe for stress.” Janey laid a comforting palm over my fingers, nervously pleating the edge of my paper napkin. “I guess, most importantly, we want you to know we’re here for you. We know you aren’t the type to burden others with your personal issues, but like Jinx said, we want to help.”
Jinx leaned against my opposite arm, resting a cheek against my shoulder in silent support. Tara reached across the table and linked her fingers with my free hand, saying, “There will be a point, probably many of them, when you’ll feel overwhelmed; call one of us. Let us be your friends. Let us help absorb some of the load.”
I exhaled a heavy sigh. My friends were right. I would insist on being there to help them through hard times, so I had to learn to accept their need to help too. “Okay.”
There was silence. The subtle shifts where each of them touched me, suggested they had pulled back to stare at me or, possibly, each other.
“That’s it? Okay?” Tara sounded offended.
“What?” I was honestly puzzled. “I thought you wanted me to accept your support.”
Janey chuckled. “It’s my fault. I told them you would probably protest, and we would spend an hour, or more, trying to convince you to let us help.”
I’m sure my mouth was twisted in wry amusement this time. “Yeah, I suppose I could string you guys along for longer, but you’re right. Janey has been a great help setting up a sick room. It would have taken me weeks to do what she accomplished in two days. I’m already starting to feel
the stress as we get closer to their arrival. I want to support David. I love him—not the same way I did a month ago, but we are first and foremost, friends. I want to preserve our friendship, as well as make it easier for Bas and David to find balance. They have a business together, and I want them to have a chance to fix their personal relationship while maintaining their professional one, without them worrying about my feelings. My heart goes out to Wes. That poor little man will be losing his mom in a short while, and he’ll need to feel safe and accepted here.”
Janey asked the hard question. “Are you positively sure you want the three of them under your roof?”
I pulled my hands away so I could cradle my head. Jeez, my brain hurt. “I honestly don’t see another alternative. It’s safer to keep Bas and David together so Russ can maximize the security coverage. If we put David in the rental house with Marcia and Wes, the security teams are split up, and they are vulnerable as they move between the rental and my house. Having his family close by while he finishes the software program will allow David to concentrate better. We all know David is not the world’s best multi-tasker, so I can assume he’d be overwhelmed with Marcia’s illness and keeping Wes occupied. My house makes the most sense.”
“I don’t know that I’d be as generous, Teresa. If my lover had betrayed me like this, I’m not sure I could welcome him and his family into my home.” I could hear the steel in Tara’s voice.
“Though I’m angry with David’s actions, I refuse to spew my hurt and fury on his wife and son, Tara. I’ll admit, my feelings for Bastian are making what should be an incredibly awkward situation, much easier. He’s been supportive, even in the face of me choosing David at the end of The Siege. In a warped way, David’s screw up allowed me to see Bas in a totally different light, and I was able to work through some prejudices which kept me from recognizing what a good man he is. Now I see David’s obsession for what it was, and I can appreciate Bastian’s qualities in a new way. He makes my heart happy.” I could feel the dopey grin on my face, but I didn’t care.
“Oh my friggin god,” Jinx gasped…
… a split second before Red’s voice in my mind declared, “Lights on.”
Apparently I’d been too distracted with the conversation to notice his connection. What was Red doing here? I wondered briefly, watching through my dog’s vision as Tara and Jinx whipped out their cell phones and began maniacally snapping pictures like teens at a rock concert. “What’s going on?” I asked, puzzled by this weird behavior, and still trying to figure out why Red was here.
“That man is a god,” Tara sighed.
“No,” Janey corrected, “my brother is a bone-headed control freak. I can’t believe Bastian showed up here on Girl’s Night.” There was a distinct whine in her tone, not echoed by our other two friends who were still taking pictures furiously.
“Why is Bas here? Why did he bring Red?” I was ignored again, as our group stared toward the doorway with various expressions ranging from annoyance to adoring.
“One of our escorts must have mentioned the guy hitting on you when we were at dinner. He’s in caveman mode.” Jinx sounded more admiring, than alarmed. “Oh, Teresa. Bas is one fine specimen of studhood.”
Studhood? She made that up. Red halted beside my chair, and gazed up at my face, in time for me to watch a black suede-covered hand reach out to cradle my nape, dragging me to my feet in a fiery hot kiss which contrasted with the cold bite of his leather jacket.
“What’s this I hear about you flirting with some bozo in a three-piece?” he growled in my ear, before swooping back to take my mouth in another drugging kiss, without giving me a chance to reply.
I’m pretty sure it was Jinx who sighed like a starry-eyed groupie.
“Here,” Janey said, extending a dainty cocktail umbrella toward Bastian. “In the absence of a flag or banner with your name written in red, bold letters, you can stick this on her head to stake your territory.”
“Or, he can lift a leg and pee on you,” Red added helpfully.
“Seriously, Sebastian?” Oops, Janey was irritated if she was using her brother’s proper name. “You couldn’t wait another two hours for her to get home?”
“Obviously not,” he teased, ignoring his sister’s pique. “My woman is attracting unwanted attention from bar-hopping businessmen. I can’t blame you, Babe.” He slung a companionable arm over my shoulder. “You’re just that gorgeous; you can’t help being a dick magnet.”
Through Red, I didn’t see any familiar faces to indicate additional PreClan security staff had accompanied Bastian to the hotel. “Aren’t you supposed to be under lock and key? Why did Russ let you leave without an escort?” I knew Bas was uber-competent, and able to handle bad guys with ruthless efficiency, but this critical stage of the software development meant he rarely left the house without a half-dozen armed men shadowing him.
Bas smirked. “I’m testing the long-range drones. There are a dozen of them at various points outside, monitoring the area. I’m wearing an earpiece so I can communicate with the security detail if the facial recognition software sees someone questionable. Your guards are able to watch both of us inside.”
Facial recognition software? Geez, just when I think I’ve learned all the facets of the program David and Bas are working on, they throw in a new twist. “Isn’t it an unnecessary risk for you to ride your motorcycle? It’s dark outside, and there is a lot of water on the roads.” I would be devastated if something happened to him. Another thought struck me, “And how in the hell did you get here with Red?” I assumed he rode the bike because the leathers were cold and damp.
“The roads are fine. Henry found a roll of the rubbery shelf-liner stuff in the pantry to throw over the gas tank. Red crouched down in front of me,” Bas explained. “My legs kept his hindquarters steady. He did pretty well, once I explained why it was important for him to stay low. I think he enjoyed the ride.”
“It was awesome, Teresa. He went really, really fast. And we zipped around cars like they were standing still. Maybe we can get a sidecar so Tank can come on a ride too!”
“I don’t think Bas wants a sidecar, Red.” To Bas, I said, “He did enjoy the ride. He’s tattling about how fast you were going, and you were weaving through traffic.”
“Not really. His perspective from a bike would be different. It may seem faster, but we kept to speed limits, and no weaving. Besides, I wouldn’t chance him slipping and scratching my awesome paint job,” he teased.
“Don’t take any unnecessary risks. I don’t want to lose you.” I slid a hand over his jaw and cupped his nape, hoping he understood the sincerity of my concern.
“No worries, Babe. I was careful,” he promised.
Bas swept a loose tendril of hair behind my ear. Even from Red’s perspective, I could clearly see the love in his eyes as he gazed into my upturned face. My heart sped up. Mine, I thought with mild surprise at the sense of possessiveness I felt. I mentally tried out the word again, waiting for any twinge of unease or doubt. Mine—all six-foot-three inches of honed and toned virile male. I felt no hesitation in claiming him; apparently, I was emotionally ready to move forward, we simply had to get through the closure with David. I was confident this man would be a large, and significant part of my future. “Mine,” I whispered against the heat of his mouth.
“Never doubt it, Babe.” He closed the distance, gifting me with a tender press of his lips against mine.
Jinx sighed. Janey harrumphed. Tara, oblivious to the interaction, made goo-goo eyes at Dex. Shameless flirt.
Chapter Eight
In a break of our usual pattern, Bas and I elected to forgo a night on the couch, in favor of a good night’s sleep in my bed. If sleep was even an option with this crazy attraction between us. After publically staking his claim, my leather-clad bad boy joined the security team at their table, leaving us girls to chatter amongst ourselves. When we parted for the night, Frost jumped at a chance to ride the bike back. Bastian rode in the vehicle
with Red and me; a motorcycle headlight shining behind us the whole way.
We laid in an approximation of the sprawl we preferred on the sofa, my body pulled partially over his chest, his arm wrapped around me, my head tucked securely into the curve of his jaw. I loved the sound of his heart under my cheek, the steady beat held back the frequent nightmares I’d endured for over two months. I’d managed to hide them from David, who slept through my startled awakenings, but not Bastian. As Red frequently reminded me, little gets by Bas. The first morning we’d accidentally fallen asleep on the couch, exhausted from conversations where we explored our feelings for each other as well as our disappointment in David, I woke suddenly, cradled in Bastian’s arms, with the soothing murmur of “I’ve got you, Babe,” in my ear.
Every night, since November, I relived the break in and assault by my ex, Devon Carpenter, who had forced his way into the house to steal PreClan secrets. While I’d successfully fended off his attack, remnants of the violence still clung to me, tormenting my dreams. Since that mid-morning, when I’d thrashed and cried out in my sleep, waking him, Bastian held me every night. Most times, I slept peacefully. On rare occasions when my subconscious took the upper hand, this wonderful man soothed me with quiet strength and calming whispers, patiently waiting as my terror subsided. I fell back to sleep each time, with Bastian’s scent filling my senses, calming my fear.
