by Abby Niles
Deep down, she knew she would’ve jumped to the same conclusion Brody had. Deep down, she knew his reaction wasn’t uncalled for. But that was deep down.
Raging on the surface was the insult of him questioning her fidelity to her husband when he had been the one who’d gotten a piece of ass on the side.
“I really don’t care how it looked. In fact, I hope he calls Ryan and tells him I’m down here sleeping with men left and right.” Her voice cracked, and she clamped her mouth closed because she couldn’t voice the rest. It was too humiliating.
I hope that sorry piece of shit understands that other men find me attractive and exciting in bed.
What kind of karma had she put out in the universe to be rewarded with Brody’s presence in a time she needed to be away from everything back home?
She deserved this time to herself. She’d done everything right. She’d fought for her marriage, even at her unhappiest, because that was what a married couple was supposed to do. Fight for each other.
Now she was feeling like she had to explain herself? To hell with that. She was here to take back some of the happiness Ryan had stolen from her over the last couple of years.
The first thing she and Delaney had done after checking in was hit the salon. Scarlett needed to update her appearance. It wasn’t that she’d let herself go, really, but she hadn’t tried very hard, either. The more bad news they’d received, the more distant Ryan had become. Or worse, the more he criticized her in a way she worried she’d never truly bounce back from.
Now honey-colored strands, with some shocking lighter streaks, brushed her shoulders in a sexy layered bob. The cut had taken years off her face. Before, she had felt every one of her twenty-seven years, plus a few additional ones. Now she could easily pass for early to mid-twenties, and she felt good for the first time in a long while.
The blue-and-white silk dress with a hi-lo skirt showed off more leg than she was accustomed to, while the halter-top gave “bada boom” a whole new meaning. Not that she hadn’t needed some liquid courage before even leaving the room, and a bit more once men started approaching her.
As the liquor warmed her insides, her tension eased, her worry over what to say abated, and she’d relished the attention, reminding herself that she had all the control. Tonight had been her moment. And Brody had ruined it by bringing her ex-husband into her paradise.
“Maybe you should tell Brody everything so he’ll leave you alone,” Delaney said, thankfully saving Scarlett from her thoughts.
“I don’t owe him an explanation.”
He could take his overly muscled ass straight to hell for all she cared.
She sighed in resignation. “You’re absolutely right. You don’t.”
Though she owed him nothing, she wasn’t ready to rehash the events leading up to her escape. The only person who knew even the smallest portion about what had happened was Delaney. She wanted to keep it that way.
Soon enough, she would have to face the music of her failed marriage. She was dreading dealing with her mother and sister. Everyone loved Ryan and had refused to entertain the idea that he was cheating. Instead, they sided with him, saying she was in a bad place mentally, and it was making her suspicious over everything and everybody.
How wrong they’d been.
How would they react when they found out she’d been right? Would they see the snake Ryan was behind his easy smile and adoring facade, or would they blame her suspicions for causing him to stray? She wished she could be confident her family would support her, but they hadn’t in the past when it came to Ryan, so she wasn’t sure they would now.
Maybe it was selfish of her to want to stick her head in the sand while she was here, but she’d been living in a harsh reality for far too long, and it was past time she got a chance to just live.
“So if you’re not going to explain anything to Brody, what are you going to do to get him to lay off?” Delaney asked.
“Nothing.” She raised her hands in a helpless gesture at Delaney’s confused look. “What am I supposed to do? If he wants to have double standards, that’s on him. I don’t have to play along.”
“Double standards?”
“Come on. There’s no way he doesn’t know what Ryan’s been doing. If he wants to judge me for cheating while he knows his boy is doing the same damn thing, then I’m going to give him an eyeful to go back and tattle to Ryan about.”
“He might not know, Scar. We all have secrets and I didn’t tell you everything about my relationship.”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
Stupid question. It was the same reason she wasn’t telling Delaney everything about Ryan. Delaney’s ex-boyfriend had been a real piece of work. There had been many times where Delaney had said to Scarlett, “I am not this woman. Why am I being this woman?”
Love made you stupid, that’s why.
God knew she’d lost a few IQ points, even with her gut screaming at her something was wrong. In the beginning, she’d clung to any excuse Ryan had given her, refusing to believe he would lie. It was hard to admit how foolish she’d been, even to her best friend.
“Because I knew how you’d react, and I didn’t want to hear it. It’s as simple as that.” She shrugged. “So, as far as I’m concerned, the jury is still out on whether Brody is guilty of being in the know.”
“My jury isn’t. He used to hang around our place at least four days a week. I considered him my friend, too, not just my husband’s. But a little over a year ago, he stopped coming over. Ryan still hangs with him a few times a week, but I’m never invited.”
She’d been surprised at how much it had hurt to have Brody cut her off like he had. She’d looked forward to his visits, and there had been plenty of times Brody had swooped in to take her to dinner or a movie when Ryan had been unavailable or just plain unwilling to go. At least now she knew the reason for his retreat—he had been protecting his bro.
“Maybe Brody was a cover so Ryan could see his girlfriend.”
She ran her fingers through her hair. “The timeline is there. Ryan starts seeing a woman on the side, his best friend stops hanging around the house. Can’t be any clearer than that.”
Delaney scrunched her nose. “Yeah. It does seem pretty clear. So what are you going to do?”
All she was looking for was a little male attention to stroke her ego. She needed it. So did Delaney. Both of them had decided to use this trip to learn to flirt again and slide back into single life. Neither one of them was looking for a hookup, but Brody didn’t need to know that.
“Screw Brody. He’s not going to ruin my good time.” She strode across the room and opened the door, then glanced over her shoulder. “Project ‘Watch Me’ is officially underway.”
…
“Damn it,” Brody muttered between clenched teeth, and fisted his hand around his cell phone as he paced the palm-lined walkway. The calming sound of the ocean waves crashing in the background had no effect on his disgust at himself.
For the last hour, he’d been struggling to do his duty to his best friend. What a shitty friend that made him out to be. Had the shoe been on the other foot, he would be furious with Ryan if he hadn’t informed him that his hypothetical wife was waltzing around without her wedding band on, flirting with men—much less insinuating her intention of finding a man to get into her.
So why the hell was he hesitating?
He sighed. Because there had to be more to the story. There were women out there, married and single, who were born flirters, who could captivate any man they came across without even trying. Scarlett wasn’t one of those women.
Unless she was in front of her students, she was very introverted. She also exuded an inaccessibility that kept most men from approaching her. The ones who attempted to engage her in conversation would receive a bored, “go waste someone else’s time” stare. The Scarlett he’d just seen was completely out of character, which meant something had to be motivating her.
What could have happene
d? Had she and Ryan fought? He shook off that possibility. A fight wouldn’t cause this drastic of a personality change.
He gritted his teeth and shoved his phone back in his pocket. The best course of action was to keep watch over her and not bring Ryan into it until he knew exactly what the fuck was going on with her.
“Where in the hell did you go, man?” Brody turned to find Blake walking up the path toward him. “I turned around to watch the show for a second, then when I glanced back, you were just gone,” his cousin continued.
“Sorry about that. I saw someone I knew.”
“Who?”
“You wouldn’t know her. She’s Ryan’s wife.”
“So, he’s here?” his cousin asked, his lips pressing together tightly.
“What do you have against him?” Brody had never understood Blake’s obvious distaste for Ryan.
“Let’s just say Ryan and I have never meshed well, and leave it at that.”
Considering the only time they’d spent any real time together had been when they were teens, Brody blew off his dislike as some juvenile rivalry.
“It doesn’t matter. He’s not here. Just his wife.”
“Some sort of girl’s weekend?”
He hoped so. This would be even more fucked up if she were here alone. “Not sure. I only saw her.”
Two women passing behind Blake in the distance caught Brody’s attention. The tight, tie-dyed dress helped him recognize one of them immediately, and the noticeably inebriated sway of her walk concerned him. Scarlett wasn’t a drinker, but it was damn clear she was drunk as hell, especially as she tripped over her own feet and started giggling. Yet another out of character moment. But at least it looked like she wasn’t here alone.
“Let’s see where those two end up,” Brody said, nudging his chin in the ladies’ direction.
Blake glanced over his shoulder and whistled softly. “I like the way you think, cousin. That one in the blue dress…daaaamn.”
Brody scowled. “She’s off-limits.”
Blake turned back toward him and raised a brow. “Calling dibs?”
“Yeah, I’m calling dibs. She’s Ryan’s wife.”
He had to keep repeating those words to remind himself. He wasn’t sure what she was up to, but the lack of a wedding band was way more tempting than he wanted to admit. No matter if she had a ring or not, she would always be his best friend’s wife.
“Seriously, dude?” Blake jerked his head back in surprise. “You going stalker?”
“No. But I’m here, and Ryan isn’t. If she’s up to something, I need to know.”
“I think it’s her business, and whatever’s going on inside her marriage is none of yours.”
Truer words had never been spoken. So why did he feel like he had to get to the bottom of it? Why did it seem so damn important?
He really couldn’t take the time to analyze it. He’d spent most of the last two years—especially the last year—doing anything but analyzing the way he did or didn’t feel about Scarlett.
“Maybe so,” he said. “But either way, if I know she’s just having a fun girl’s weekend, then I can go about my own business. If it’s not, I really need to let Ryan know.”
Blake studied him for a long minute. “All right, cuz. You do what you got to do. The dark-haired one in the black dress is a lot shorter than I usually go for, but definitely smokin’.”
“That’s Delaney, Scarlett’s best friend. Don’t let her size fool you. She might be barely five feet, but she’s feisty as hell.”
“Not married, right? I have no interest in getting caught up in any drama.”
“Last time I saw her, she was in a relationship with some dude Scarlett didn’t like, but that was almost a year ago.”
“Relationships are fair game, my man. I don’t fuck with married women, but if a guy isn’t smart enough to claim one, then she’s still on the market.” Blake winked then turned in the direction the girls had gone.
Brody kept his distance. The way Scarlett had reacted earlier when he’d confronted her, she would flip the hell out if she saw him openly following her. He didn’t want or need that. He just wanted to watch her, make sure she was really okay. Damn it. He didn’t like how drunk she was. Alcohol mixed with her earlier attitude was a fucking recipe for disaster. Hell, he didn’t know much about Delaney. Was it possible she’d given Scarlett something stronger than alcohol?
When the girls entered one of the resort’s bars, thumping eighties music poured out the door. Blake halted with a grimace. “Not my scene, dude.”
It wasn’t Brody’s, either. In Atlanta, there was a popular club called the Boot Scoot that most of the fighters frequented. He was not one of them, and only went a couple of times a year to be social with the guys at his gym. Clubs had never been his thing. Too loud, too crowded, and too full of drunk people. However, for Scarlett he was willing to make an exception.
“We’re on vacation. Might as well broaden our horizons.”
Blake muttered under his breath as he stalked to the door and yanked it open. As the music blasted him, his irritated scowl contorted to mock pain, but he stepped inside anyway. Brody followed, wincing at the volume.
“I can’t even fucking think in here,” Blake yelled over Kenny Loggins’s “Footloose.”
At least the music wasn’t techno. He could deal with throwbacks. He glanced around the inside, which was decorated with 80s memorabilia, ranging from posters of the Brat Pack to hair bands. Though the overhead lights were dimmed, the four bouncing spotlights positioned in each corner brightened the place. While there was a sizable attendance, there was also adequate breathing room.
Thank God. One thing that sucked more than being in a club was being in a packed, dark one.
Someone jostled him from behind and he sighed. So much for breathing room. The drunks were out in full force. Another reason he hated the bar scene. He got knocked around enough during training and in the cage. He liked space outside of his career. “Let’s find a place not so in the middle of the crowd.”
As he wove his way around the idiots standing smack in front of the doorway, making for a side wall, he searched for Scarlett, but couldn’t locate her. This wasn’t her scene, either. Had she realized that and slipped out when he wasn’t looking?
After he got situated against the wall, he scanned over the gyrating bodies on the dance floor and finally spotted her about thirty feet away, standing with her back to him at a small round table on the adjacent wall, laughing with Delaney.
That was innocent enough.
Maybe he’d just pissed her off earlier by insinuating she was doing something wrong. Maybe she’d simply taken her wedding ring off to put on lotion and forgotten to put it back on. Hell, maybe she hadn’t had the ring for a while—the damn thing could’ve fallen down the sink or something. All these were more probable than something being up with Ryan and Scarlett’s marriage.
A surprising amount of disappointment settled over him, and he cursed the feeling to hell and back. Damn if that didn’t say something about the kind of friend he was. He should feel relief for Ryan and guilt for accusing Scarlett, but his first emotion was purely selfish. The most sickening thing was it wouldn’t matter if they were having problems. He could never have Scarlett—married, divorced, or heaven forbid, widowed. She would always be the wife of his best friend. That would never change.
“You know what?” he said to his cousin. “This is stupid. Let’s get out of here.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I saw some pool tables in one of the lounges. Want to…” His voice trailed off as a blond-haired man who looked like he stepped off the cover of Playgirl approached the two women.
Blake heaved a sigh, leaned back against the wall, and crossed his arms.
As much as Brody wanted to leave, wanted to believe his own rationalizations, he couldn’t get his legs to move toward the door. He silently encouraged the man to focus on Delaney, but his charming smile stayed glued on Sca
rlett, who had shifted to face the guy. Brody no longer saw her back, but had a clear side view. Unlike the numerous times in the past he’d watched a man get shot down by a single glare from her, this time she was encouraging, while also being flirtatiously coy.
Though he couldn’t hear her over the music, he saw her lips part wide in one of her truly amused laughs. The pleased, almost cocky expression on the guy’s face only confirmed it. She stepped closer to him and pressed her body into his. He lowered his hand to the curve of her hip, much lower than was appropriate for a happily married woman. She toyed with the collar of his shirt then ran her finger down his chest, bottom lip tucked seductively between her teeth.
Who the hell was this woman?
Then out of nowhere, she cupped the man’s face between her palms and kissed him square on the lips—slow, encouraging, a kiss that flat out said, “If you want it, take it.” The dude wasted no time in sliding both arms around her waist, pulling her closer and deepening the kiss. A clear “fuck yeah, I want it,” if Brody ever saw one.
A red haze of fury obstructed his vision as he watched her melt into the other man. He’d like to believe it was only indignation over her betrayal of his best friend, but it wasn’t. He’d never liked watching her kiss her husband, either—one of the reasons he’d put so much distance between Scarlett and him this past year.
She pulled back from the kiss but stayed pressed tightly against him, lifted up on her tiptoes, and whispered something into his ear. Her glazed eyes, bright from drink and not passion, stared up at the guy as she waited for his response. He gave an eager nod. Smiling brightly, she stepped back, took his hand, then stumbled a little to the left before catching herself on some random woman standing behind her.
Delaney uncertainly laid a hand on Scarlett’s forearm and said something at which Scarlett laughed and shook her head. Delaney pressed her lips together tightly, worry evident in the glance she cast the guy.
As the man snaked his arm around Scarlett’s waist to lead her toward the exit, she went without a second of hesitation. Delaney, however, hurried in front of the pair. She exuded nothing but fierce disapproval, so it didn’t take a genius to figure out she was trying to talk some damn sense into her drunk friend.
