by Diane Kelly
I threw my covers back. Whoa. Nick’s face wasn’t the only thing that bore three days of stubble. My legs looked like they belonged on a cavewoman.
The nurse helped me into the shower. I bathed, shampooed, and shaved for the first time in days. When I was done, I slipped into a fresh hospital gown and the fresh panties. I felt nearly human again.
Ajay and Christina came by shortly thereafter, before regular visiting hours. As one of my regular doctors, Ajay could come see me at any time. Christina slipped in with him.
I thanked them for the ivy they’d sent. “The vibrators, though, that’s a different story.”
“Ooh. I want to hear that story.” Ajay looked from me to Christina.
“None of your business,” she said.
“We’re engaged,” he said. “Everything you do is my business.”
Christina gave him a pointed look. “Oh, yeah? Then you tell me what happened at that medical convention in Reno.”
“Okay! Okay!” He held up his hands in surrender. “You can have your vibrators if I can have Reno.”
“Deal.” Christina plunked herself down at the end of my bed. “Are they going to put a steel plate in your head? That would be cool.”
What could possibly be “cool” about having a steel plate in your head? Then again, I supposed it would make me less vulnerable. Maybe I could even use it to my advantage should an occasion arise in which I needed to head butt someone. “Nah. The fracture was actually relatively small.” Thank goodness Margie hadn’t been any stronger than she was or she probably would have killed me instantly.
My back hurt and my muscles felt as if they were beginning to atrophy. I suggested the three of us take a walk around the hospital.
“Good idea,” Ajay said. “It will get your blood flowing, reduce the risk of clotting.”
When I climbed out of bed, Christina shrieked. I turned to find her eyeing the gap where the back of my gown hung open. “You’ve been wearing those underwear for almost a week?”
I rolled my eyes. “No. I just put them on this morning.”
She gestured at my ass. “But they say Thursday.”
“Yeah, and my high-school yearbook says I plan to marry Keith Urban.” I rolled my eyes. “Don’t believe everything you read.”
The first thing I’d do when I was released from this hospital would be to wash my dirty laundry.
Ajay, Christina, and I made only three rounds of the floor before returning to my room. Amazing how quickly I tuckered out after having spent several days in bed. The two left with a reminder about their Halloween party. Hard to believe it was only a week away.
My parents came into the room not long after Ajay and Christina had gone. Mom had brought a box of Fruity Pebbles. She sent Dad to the cafeteria to get me a pint of cold milk.
“You look much better,” she said.
“I feel much better.” The shower had done wonders for me.
“I washed your laundry.” She pursed her lips in disapproval. “All thirteen loads of it. Took me hours.”
I gave her a big smile. “I love you, Mommy.”
My parents stayed for a half hour or so, then headed out. Dad planned to return to Nacogdoches to check on things back home, but Mom insisted on staying in town a few more days until I’d been released and she’d convinced herself I’d be okay on my own.
Alone now, I raised the miniblinds and looked out my second-floor window. Nick’s truck pulled into the parking lot below. My heart gave a little flutter. When Brett’s Navigator pulled in directly afterward, that little flutter turned into a major flurry.
No good could come from the two of them showing up here at the same time with no one else around to run interference for me.
The two pulled into spots not far from each other. Nick stepped out of his truck, doing a double take when he saw Brett climb out of his SUV. He hesitated a moment but then stepped toward Brett, his mouth moving to form words I couldn’t hear. Brett said something back, his posture becoming rigid as Nick removed the white felt cowboy hat I’d bought him and approached.
The two stood a few feet apart. As Nick spoke, his fingers worked the cowboy hat in his hands. I supposed I should’ve returned his stress ball to him. Brett crossed his arms over his chest and stood with his feet slightly apart, a defensive stance.
Oh, no. Nick wasn’t telling Brett about my plans to bench him, was he?
I rapped on my window, hoping to interrupt their conversation. Unfortunately, my window was too far away for them to hear me.
Dammit! What was going on? What were they talking about?
The two spoke for several minutes, Nick doing most of the talking. Eventually Brett’s shoulders relaxed. His arms moved from his chest to his sides and he shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.
When Nick finished, he stepped forward and held a hand out to Brett. The two shook hands. Nick returned to his truck, started it, and drove away while Brett came toward the building.
What the hell had just happened?
I was still standing at the window when Brett entered my room.
“Thursday?” he said.
I turned to find his eyes on my butt, his lip curled back in mock disgust.
“Hi, Brett.”
He sighed, cocked his head, and looked at me for a moment. “You and I need to talk.”
I went to the door of my room and closed it before taking a seat on the edge of the bed. He opted for one of the chairs, putting some space between us. Under the unclear circumstances, I wasn’t sure whether that was a good sign or a bad sign.
He looked down at the floor for a moment before looking back up at me. “I saw Nick in the parking lot.”
“I know. I saw you two from the window.”
Brett looked at me for a moment. “He asked me to step aside.”
My heart pounded in my chest. “Step aside?”
Brett exhaled a loud breath. “He wants a chance with you, Tara.”
And I wanted a chance with Nick, too. I only wished I wouldn’t have to break Brett’s heart to get it.
Brett stared at me another moment, as if waiting for me to say something. Finally, he looked down at his tennis shoes. “I’m going to give it to him.”
My head swam. I had no idea what to think about all of this. I hadn’t wanted to hurt Brett, but hell, here he was shredding my heart like a rototiller. Despite my attraction to Nick, I still had deep feelings for the guy. Who was Brett to say he’d give Nick a chance with me, as if the choice were his to make, as if I were something he owned and could give away? And who did Nick think he was, asking Brett to step aside, butting in on my relationship with another man?
The thought of the two of them haggling over me as if I were a fish at a market left me hurt and angry. But I was getting what I wanted, wasn’t I?
Tears welled up in my eyes, partly from the heartache, partly from the relief that this issue was finally out in the open.
Brett looked back up at me now. “Do you have feelings for him, Tara?”
No sense denying it. I could tell he suspected I did. “I’m sorry, Brett.”
He raised a hand. “No need to apologize. People don’t have control over their feelings, only their actions.”
It sounded as if he was speaking from experience. Wait, was he speaking from experience?
I eyed him closely. Sure, part of him looked heartbroken. But I saw something else there. Was he also feeling relieved?
He looked at me. “I’ve got feelings for someone else, too.”
It felt as if the earth had shifted under me. I hadn’t expected this.
I gripped the bed rail. “Is it Trish?”
If he said, Yes, I’d strangle him with the blood pressure cuff. Please let it be anyone but that big-titted twit!
He shook his head and thus would live to see another day. “No, it’s not Trish.”
I didn’t want to think of Brett with someone else, but at the same time I knew I had to know. “Who, then?”
“The chef at the country club in Atlanta.”
“The one who made the spiced peaches?” I racked my bruised brain for her name. “Fiona?”
He nodded.
Huh. Looked like the way to a man’s heart really was through his stomach.
I supposed I shouldn’t have been surprised. Thinking back, I realized there had been some fairly obvious signs. During our phone calls, he’d rambled on incessantly about the food at the club, how good everything tasted. Heck, I’d even noticed he’d put on a pound or two while working in Atlanta.
“Has anything happened between you two?” I asked. If he’d cheated on me, I’d never forgive him. I’d make sure he was audited every year for the rest of his life.
“No.” Brett’s voice was emphatic. He looked me in the eye. “I’d never do that to you, Tara.”
I believed him. “Nothing’s happened with Nick, either.”
“I know that, too. You wouldn’t make a fool of me like that.”
We were both quiet a moment as we tried to sort our thoughts.
“When were you going to tell me?” I asked finally.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Soon. I was still working through my feelings.”
“And what do you think now?”
“Honestly, Tara? I’m still not sure. Sometimes I can really see me and you having a future together.”
“And other times?”
“Other times I think a life with you would be an absolute pain in the ass.”
We shared a laugh.
“So, what now?” I asked.
Brett shrugged. “I guess we work out some parameters for a trial separation.”
It seemed so formal and legalistic, but it was the right thing to do. It was the only way to ensure that if things didn’t work out with Nick or Fiona, neither Brett nor I crossed a line from which there could be no return.
We talked things out and finally reached an agreement, the terms of which were fairly straightforward:
Number one: a total break for one month with no communication between us.
Number two: no nooky with the new partner during the trial period.
Number three: On an agreed Saturday one month from now, if either of us wanted to reconcile, that person should go to the children’s pool at the arboretum at noon and see if the other showed up. If we both showed up, we’d get back together, no questions asked. If not, well, it’s been great. No regrets.
Brett leaned in and gave me a soft, sweet kiss on the cheek before leaving. I grabbed his hand and held it to my cheek for a moment, yet more tears welling up in my eyes.
Willie Shakespeare got it right. Parting really is such sweet sorrow.
chapter thirty-nine
Nick + Tara = ♥
As soon as Brett left, I texted Nick. U R in big trouble, mister.
A reply came instantly, as if he’d been waiting to hear from me. On my way.
Twenty minutes later, Nick stepped into the doorway of my room. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the jamb. “You’re angry that I spoke with Brett?”
“Furious.” It was a lie. Although part of me didn’t like the fact that Nick had taken charge of the situation and fought my battle for me, so to speak, another part appreciated the fact that he’d taken the heat off me, made things easier. Besides, seeing him standing there made it impossible to maintain any anger I might have felt.
“I got tired of waiting, woman. Besides, I have a feeling you won’t be furious for long.” He flashed that chipped-tooth smile that never failed to send me reeling.
I felt a blush warm my cheeks. “Cocky son of a bitch.”
He chuckled. “You wouldn’t have me any other way.”
It was true. He really did understand me, huh?
Nick stepped over to the bed and took a seat facing me, reaching out his hand to entwine his fingers with mine. God, his touch felt wonderful. After weeks of yearning for contact, I didn’t think I’d ever want to let go. He raised my hand to the smooth cheek he’d recently shaved and held it there, closing his eyes and releasing a long breath as if our physical connection brought him some sort of spiritual release. Heck, I felt the same way, like my restless soul was finally at peace.
A moment later he opened his eyes. “Should we get naked and do it right here in the hospital bed? It’s adjustable. We could probably come up with a really interesting position.” Still holding my hand, he took one of my knuckles between his front teeth and gave it a playful bite.
If not for my agreement with Brett, I’d have been willing to try. But until the one-month probationary period was up, there’d be no nooky with Nick.
When I told him the details of my agreement with Brett he released my hand and frowned.
I grabbed his hand back and held it to my cheek this time. “Please don’t be mad. I’m crazy about you, Nick. You know that.”
He gave a grunt of displeasure, but when he eyed my face his frown melted. “I’ll never understand how you can be so tough at your job and such a chickenshit about your personal life.”
If he hadn’t nailed me so perfectly, I might’ve been angry again. “Guns are much easier to handle than men,” I said, shrugging. “They don’t go off unexpectedly, I can control them, and they’re easier to clean.”
“I suppose you’ve got a point.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and began punching buttons. When he finished, he held the phone up to show me the screen. On the Saturday after Thanksgiving, the day when Brett and I were to either part for good or meet at noon to reconcile, Nick had scheduled a date with me for the evening. He’d titled the event ROCK TARA’S WORLD. Clearly he, too, believed things would work out between us, despite this somewhat inauspicious start.
I picked my phone up from the bedside table and marked my calendar, too. ROCK NICK’S WORLD RIGHT BACK. I held up the phone. “It’s a date.”
* * *
Dr. Ling released me from the hospital the following day with strict orders to take it easy. And what better place to take it easy than on a boat?
Nick played hooky from work in the afternoon and we took his boat out to one of the area lakes. The day was cool, so we wore windbreakers. Given that it was not only late October but also a weekday, we virtually had the lake to ourselves.
It felt like we were the only two people in the world.
Nick fished while I lounged on the deck with a glass of peach sangria and a new mystery novel. Nutty lay on his back at our feet, his tummy turned toward the sky, basking in the meager sunshine.
Though Nick hadn’t been especially thrilled to know our relationship was a trial run and that Brett and I had kept each other in a backup position, he’d acquiesced. Of course he’d kept his account at Big D Dating Service active, too. It was his way of letting me know that he wasn’t a pushover, that two could play this game. He was keeping his options open, too. Still, I was cautiously optimistic that things would work out between us.
In late afternoon, as the sun began to wane, Nick eased his boat into the cove that contained the quiet dock where my mother, Alicia, and I had stopped the evening after we’d gone shopping at Neiman’s. Nick tied up to the side of the dock and we stepped off the boat, Nutty trotting up the wooden pier to dry land and sniffing around for the squirrels that so easily eluded his nearly blind eyes.
Nick and I sat on the dock and looked out over the water. I recalled the night that I dreamed of having a glass of peach sangria in my hand and Nick sitting next to me.
My dream had come true.
chapter forty
Fairy Tales
Things were looking up all around.
Daniel phoned Alicia and the two met for lunch. Though she was happy he’d called and thrilled he wanted to resume their relationship, she wasn’t about to go rushing back into either his arms or his apartment. I told her she could stay at my place as long as she wanted to. It was nice having her around, even if she refused to do my laundry.
Though Margie Bainbri
dge had hidden out at the home of her cousin in nearby Rockwall for five days, she’d been overcome with guilt and turned herself in the day after I was released from the hospital. She’d been relieved to learn she hadn’t killed me. She’d panicked, she said. She’d been overcome by the horror of learning she’d facilitated the terrorists and thought she’d face life in prison. Her actions earned her five years in the federal penitentiary. If only she’d let me finish talking before taking the bat to my brains. When will people learn to listen?
Richard Beauregard hired a sleazebag lawyer who was giving the attorneys at the Department of Justice all kinds of unnecessary hell. Hiring the bastard had been yet another bad decision in a long line of bad decisions Beau had made. The government attorneys quickly revoked the relatively generous plea deal they’d offered and planned to go for the jugular.
But I had better things to do than think about Margie or Beau. It was Halloween now and my first official date with Nick.
He carried a gallon-size jug of peach sangria into the rec room at Ajay’s condominium complex while I carried a stack of plastic cups. Christina had decorated the place with fake spiderwebs and black streamers, along with a skeleton model on wheels that Ajay had ordered from a medical supply outfit. A strobe light flashed while a fog machine provided an eerie haze. Ajay had connected his iPod player to the room’s built-in speakers and dance music reverberated through the space, the windows rattling with each throb of the bass line.
I wore the cute fairy costume I’d bought a few weeks ago at one of those specialty stores that pop up before the holiday. Nick was dressed as a cowboy. He already owned boots, spurs, chaps, and a hat and hadn’t needed to go shopping. Heck, for him the costume was hardly a costume at all. He’d brought a rope from his boat to serve as a lasso. The yellow nylon was hardly authentic, but it had been handy.
Christina wore a skimpy Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader costume. Ajay wore an oversized toy stethoscope over a white lab coat and carried a gag pill bottle filled with Skittles, which he dispensed freely. Eddie and his wife, Sandra, had been invited to the party, but parental duty called, requiring them to take their twins trick-or-treating instead. Oh, well. Every party needs a pooper.
