“Cooper,” she said, smiling and putting her left hand to her mouth while still watching the two dogs.
“I’m George,” he replied, extending his hand to Stella.
“Stella,” she said with the same big smile that had been on her face all morning.
“Congratulations,” George motioned toward her ring.
“Oh, thanks.” Stella twisted her engagement ring around her finger. “Nice to meet you,” she commented, not losing her manners, as she admired the river. “This is awesome.”
He pushed his cap back to rub his head and eyes. His eyes were a gray-green color and his hair was very dark, black or dark brown. A touch of sadness showed around his eyes. “Not from here, are you?” George asked.
“Nope, you?”
“Actually, yes. I’ll probably be the only person you’ll meet that was actually born and raised here.”
“I love it here.” Stella’s gaze toward the Potomac was full of innocence and promise.
“I do, too. How long you been here?”
“This is my first real day.”
“A novice, huh?” George pushed himself off the fence and whistled. Brutus ran over to his owner without delay.
“I guess,” she shrugged, still smiling, but at Brutus now. The boxer ran towards her and jumped on her, his paws on her chest. Stella steeled herself against the boxer’s weight.
“Brutus!” George yelled and Brutus hopped down and tucked his little nub of a tail down, along with his head. “You know better than that.” Brutus ran away, looking ashamed.
“Shit, I’m sorry about that.” George walked over to where Stella stood and inspected Brutus’ paw marks, which just happened to be on Stella’s chest.
Stella blushed at his inspection. “It’s fine.”
He smiled at her. “Well, good luck, Stella. I hope DC is all you want it to be.” George walked out of the park with Brutus trailing behind him.
Cooper ran up to Stella and nuzzled her legs with his head, wanting attention. “Yep, this is going to be amazing,” Stella said to herself.
Chapter Two
Six-Pack
Stella clutched her throat; she couldn’t breathe. She felt a ripping sensation in her chest. As she collapsed to the floor, a guttural sob escaped her throat. Not sure how long she stayed that way, she felt strong hands pick her up and carry her downstairs to the room she shared with Jamie. Her mind reeled as she was placed gently on their bed.
“You’re going to be okay, Stella,” a man’s voice said as he patted her shoulder like she was a dog. She was in a house with people she didn’t know and he was petting her like a dog. “I’ll drive us down to Georgia tomorrow.”
She heard him, but it sounded like he was in a tunnel. Stella looked up at the man petting her; it was their new roommate, Patrick. He was tall, with hard blue eyes, and his skin was the color of a mocha latte. His black hair was high and tight. His hand was rough on her skin. She nodded, laid her head on Jamie’s pillow, and cried. Patrick had just broken the news that there had been a car accident involving a new ATF agent.
It was fatal.
It was Jamie.
She sobbed, not just cried, for a good portion of the night until she felt she had run out of tears. Lying in her bed with the weight of Cooper’s head on her chest, she stared into the blackness. Every few minutes, Cooper’s big, wet tongue would lick her and he would move a little closer to her face. By the time she tried to get out of bed, Cooper had pinned her down with the top half of his body and his big paws. Her right arm was trapped under Cooper’s massive belly, so she shoved him with her other hand. After the second shove, Cooper jumped off the bed.
Searching through her boxes, she found the only black dress she owned and a pair of heels. The only pair she could find were her red heels. Jamie loved those heels. She packed a bag and made her way to the couch where she sat for three hours until Patrick woke up. Cooper lay next to her on the couch, his head on her lap.
As the early morning sun peeked through the clouds, Patrick physically moved her into his car. Cooper stretched out in the backseat of Patrick’s Audi. They set off for Savannah, where Jamie was raised. Gazing out the window, she looked into the side mirror. She was almost unrecognizable, her black hair wild and loose, her eyes bloodshot. The skin underneath her eyes looked bruised, as if she had been punched in the face; she certainly felt as if she had been. She squeezed her eyes closed and put her head against the window of Patrick’s car. He didn’t try to talk to her, which was good, because she wasn’t capable of speaking. Images of their time together flashed through her brain sporadically, but the one memory that kept coming up over and over again was the day she first met Jamie.
It had been a few weeks before classes started her freshman year of college. She was enjoying a rare two-day break from softball practice. She and some teammates had gotten to the pool early that day and she had been dozing off for several hours, when she heard male voices. She looked up and saw him. He took her breath away without even trying. Mentally, she ran through a checklist of her appearance; an older seersucker bikini, not the greatest, but it gave her boobs a nice lift and she’d shaved everywhere.
Stella closed her eyes again, pretending to sleep. Listening to their conversation for a while, she realized that they were on the baseball team. She sat up, squeezed some sunscreen out of the bottle and stood to apply it seductively. Her black hair hung loose down past the string of her bikini top, so she wrapped it up in a messy bun. She rubbed more sunscreen on her back, awkwardly arching her back to reach the middle. Cassie, the first baseman on her softball team, giggled at the provocative show Stella was putting on for the boys. Stella winked at her.
The girls hadn’t brought any beer to the pool, but they had plenty of vodka. Stella knocked back the rest of her drink and made herself another. She applied lip balm, slowly. The entire process took about five minutes, but the conversation between the guys stopped. As Stella lay back down on her stomach, she reached up and untied the back string of her bikini. Smiling, she turned her head to face Cassie. “You’re bad...” Cassie mouthed. Stella nodded and then closed her eyes.
She felt a shadow across her back a few minutes later. Stella didn’t open her eyes, but said, “Why is someone blocking my sun? I’m trying to get rid of my farmer’s tan.”
Cassie snorted. “That’s not going to happen, Stella.” All the softball players had horrible tan lines. Stella’s arms looked like leather, but her stomach and chest were white as porcelain, as were her feet. It was heinous. All of them looked like they were wearing white shorts all the time.
“I don’t know, I think it’s kinda sexy. Like I know what you look like naked,” Stella heard his slow, sexy southern drawl.
Her eyes popped open and she found herself staring at the guy with the drawl. One of the best-looking guys she’d ever seen in person. His hair was cut short and looked sandy blond in the sun. He had blue eyes and an actual six-pack. Stella had never seen a guy with a six-pack in person before, and it made her want to touch him. She laughed, noticing that he had the same farmer’s tan that she and the softball players sported.
Stella cocked her head to the side and just looked at him.
“What?” Six-pack asked.
“I’m just following suit and picturing you naked,” she said, then closed her eyes.
“Me too,” Cassie agreed with a giggle.
“Now, I am too,” one of his friends piped up loudly. “Damn it. Someone help me get that image out of my mind.”
Six-pack leaned down to whisper into her ear. “I think you missed a spot.” His fingers grazed the small of her back, just above her bikini bottoms, and her body tensed instantaneously at the spark she felt. Sexual chemistry crackled between them.
Stella used her sweetest voice. “Oh, really?” She cooed. “Could you get it for me?”
“Damn right, I can.” He leaned over to grab the lotion, but she got to it first.
“Oh, I was talking to Cassie.”
She threw the bottle to Cassie. “Thanks, though.”
Cassie snorted again. “It looks fine to me.” Cassie yelled to the other guys, “Y’all got any beer over there you can share?!”
“Of course,” one of the guys replied.
Cassie got up, sauntered over to the baseball players, grabbed a beer out of their cooler, and sat down with them. “Y’all play ball?”
Stella overheard the conversation and was interested. These were all baseball players and seemed to be pretty cool. Six-Pack’s name was Jamie; and he was a sophomore. He was a pitcher. Confidence exuded from him and he seemed to be pretty smart and funny. Those were three mandatory traits for Stella before she would even look at a guy. She never fell for the type of guy who looked good, but annoyed the shit out of her as soon as he opened his mouth. This Six-pack character could work.
“Stella, you want a beer?” Cassie called.
“Sure.” Stella turned just as Cassie threw the beer at her. She had two options, she could sit up and catch it, showing everyone her boobs, or the beer was going to hit her…somewhere.
“Fuck!” she called out as she rolled over to dodge the beer coming at her face. She fell off the chair, but managed to keep her hands covering her nipples.
For a moment, everyone was quiet. Then all of the occupants of the pool erupted in laughter. Stella turned forty shades of red and tried to figure out how to get up gracefully. Realizing there was no way to cover her nipples, get up, and grab her bikini top with only two hands, she gave up. Stella stood up, grabbed her bikini top, and with her chin raised, walked to the bathroom, showing everyone all she had.
Several hours later, everyone was good and drunk, playing Truth or Dare, and it was Stella’s turn. She picked dare.
“Kiss me,” Jamie said, leaning back in a lounge chair with a smug smile on his face.
Stella got up from where she was sitting and leaned over him. “You may regret this dare,” she whispered in his ear, lips grazing his lobe. Stella kissed his neck, which made him tip his head back. She slowly kissed his top lip. He groaned and she went for the kill, parting his lips with hers. All of a sudden, his arms wrapped around her, pulling her on top of him in the chair. She forgot where she was, and that they had an audience, until she heard someone clear their throat.
Stella ripped her lips away from Jamie’s and took a long breath. She put her fingers to her mouth and looked into Jamie’s eyes. Holy fuck. There’s no going back from that.
“I think you may be right,” Jamie whispered, his arms wrapped around her. Stella thought for a minute he had read her thoughts. Then he said, “Best regret ever.”
Stella smiled. She pulled herself out of his arms, separating their bodies. Suddenly, she felt too drunk, too high on the feeling she got from kissing this guy she just met, and too naked. She walked over to her bag was and checked her phone. She felt arms wrap around her again.
“You need to come with me. NOW,” his lips whispered in her ear.
“And why’s that?” Stella shivered and turned around so that she could look into his eyes.
“You’re pretty much naked and I need to be the only one looking at you.” He reached up and rubbed his thumb down her jawline. “I need to kiss you more.”
If she hadn’t been drunk, she wouldn’t have gone home with him. But she was drunk, and she followed him home. Immediately.
Chapter Three
Still Breathing
Cooper ran up and down the beach, chasing and barking at every bird that flew overhead. Stella sat in the sand, motionless, staring at the waves. Patrick had arranged for a rental house on Tybee Island, right outside Savannah, for the funeral. He also gave Stella a bottle of Zanax after he told her about Jamie. He’d thought of everything.
Cooper ran up to her and shook his wet fur, spraying saltwater all over her. She didn’t even flinch. He made a couple circles around Stella and then dropped at her feet. She was still in the clothes she was wearing when she heard that Jamie was dead. Thankfully, Cooper didn’t mind her stink.
“Stella!” Patrick yelled from a couple yards away. He was in his dark suit, looking very debonair. Glancing down at his watch, he tapped it once and said, “Let’s go.”
Slowly, she stood up and robotically motioned for Cooper to follow. She walked stoically to the house they were renting, or Patrick was renting. Patrick followed her, Cooper leading both of them up the stairs into the rented house. She walked to the room where her dress was hanging and mechanically put on her only black dress and her red heels, paying no attention to the sand that dotted her feet and legs.
Without speaking, Stella motioned for Cooper to follow her outside and opened the door to Patrick’s silver Audi; letting Cooper jump in with fur still wet from the beach.
“Stella!” Patrick yelled as Cooper was jumping into the backseat. “Fuck,” he muttered as Cooper made himself comfortable in the backseat. “You can’t bring your fucking dog to a funeral.”
Stella slid into the passenger seat and shut the door, staring forward. Patrick shook his head. She hadn’t said a word since he told her about Jamie. On the way down to Savannah, Patrick used her cell phone to call her parents.
Patrick parked in one of the few remaining open spaces in front of the church. Stella put Cooper on the leash. He walked right by her side into the church.
“Ma’am! Ma’am!” A woman called after them. The woman chased after Stella and Cooper, her heels clicking quickly on the tile floor. “Ma’am, you can’t bring a dog in the church.”
Ignoring her, Stella kept walking and looked for a place to sit. Jamie’s sister, Sara, motioned Stella to sit by her. Sara reached out and grabbed Stella’s hand with a death grip. They didn’t speak to each other, only held each other’s hands.
Tears fell continuously throughout the funeral. It’s a closed casket, the accident must’ve been bad. Stella never said a word. Sara released Stella’s hand with a squeeze and silently joined the rest of Jamie’s family. Stella wasn’t family, she was almost family. Apparently, almost family didn’t count for much. Inspecting her ring, she wondered if she’d be able to keep it. She and Cooper stayed seated as the rest of the church emptied. Stella stared at the closed casket. How was this possible?
She felt a hand on her shoulder. “Come on, Stella, they’re doing the burial right away.” Patrick stood in the aisle, waiting for her to move. They can’t do the burial without the casket. She remained seated until six guys came to move Jamie. She recognized most of them from Jamie’s college baseball team. It was only after the church was empty that Stella rose and pulled on Cooper’s leash.
Patrick put his hand on her elbow and led her back to his car. At the cemetery, Stella and Cooper stood behind the seated guests and listened to the minister speak, pray, and then dismiss everyone. A collective sob erupted from the seats where Jamie’s family and friends were all sitting, eyes red-rimmed.
So many people came up to her to offer sympathy, but she couldn’t speak. Eventually, they all left her alone. When the service was over and all the attendees had gone, she and Cooper made their way up to the casket, watching as Jamie was lowered in the ground. He’s in the ground.
Stella sunk to her knees next to the hole where Jamie had been, then lay on her side. She let out one quick sob, then nothing. This cannot be real. She felt like she didn’t have any tears left. She lay on the ground next to the hole, her dress riding up; and Cooper next to her, his head on her side. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Patrick picked her up, carried her over to his car, and put her in. He leaned in and pulled the seatbelt over her to latch it.
Stella didn’t even realize her mom and dad had been at the funeral until she saw her father walking over to Patrick’s car after the service. Her dad was talking, but she wasn’t paying attention to her dad, she just stared out the front of the car. Stella’s mom was standing a few feet back, crying. Jamie’s parents didn’t even try to talk to her, which was fine, since she had totally imploded and was physic
ally incapable of speaking. There was nothing left. Her mind was completely turned off, and she felt like she was nothing but nerve endings.
“Stella, talk to me, baby.” Stella’s dad was stooped over her, smoothing her black hair. “It’ll be okay. I promise.”
As if the faucet in her eyes had been turned back on, tears began falling. Big wet drops landed on her dress and absorbed by the fabric. She didn’t even try to wipe them away anymore. Her big green eyes were full of tears and devastation.
“Patrick, take my card.” Her dad said. “If this keeps up, call or email me and I’ll come up and get her.” Patrick and Stella’s father walked over to her mother and they spoke in hushed voices.
Her dad looked tired. Stella closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing, but she didn’t really want to breathe. Just breathe. She couldn’t wrap her brain around her situation. A few days ago she was happily engaged, optimistic and carefree. Now she was in a house with two guys she didn’t know, in a city where she didn’t know a soul; and she was all alone. Alone.
Her mother made her way to the car, her black hair perfectly coifed; she was clutching her pearls. She didn’t speak to Stella, but smoothed her hair back and kissed her cheek. Then she turned and walked away.
She and Jamie had planned to get married in St. Simons Island off the coast of Georgia next summer. She’d already found her dress. It was simple and backless with exquisite beading on the torso, drawing attention to her narrow waist. The fabric was light, perfect for a beach wedding. Stella shook her head to clear the view of the dress she would never wear.
As the car made the drive back to Tybee Island, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the seat. Arctic air from the air conditioner blasted so hard from the vents it blew loose strands of black hair back. Once she felt the car stop, she opened her eyes. Jamie’s dead. Stella let Cooper out of the backseat and walked up to the door. She stood there, waiting for Patrick to let her into the rental house.
The noise of her heels clicking across the tile floor of the main room vibrated through her chest. She opened the door to the room where her things were and collapsed onto the bed, heels still on her feet.
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