Love Is Louder

by Antoinette Candela

  I debate whether or not to go straight to the Bull and Bear, but I would be completely useless. I could go throw some weights, but gulping this beer right now seems to be doing the job for the moment. I’m not going to tell Micah about my unexpected visitor until tomorrow, because I know he won’t be too happy about it, and I don’t think he’s going to like the fact I invited him to Lily’s birthday party.

  I take the momentary distraction of Cole and close my eyes, tired and scared as memories with my dad break into my thoughts.

  “Make me proud, Mason. Hit a home run for me.”

  His last words ring though my head. He tried to make it to all my little league games, but this night he couldn’t. He left for work that day, never to return home. I waited out front playing catch with Micah to tell him I hit the homerun for him that my team won. Instead, a police cruiser pulled up with red lights flashing. Frightened, with my tiny heart beating like a drum, I ran into the house. When Mom started crying and my aunt came over to watch us so that Mom could leave with the police, I knew something was wrong.

  I’d seen my mother go through the gamut of emotions, but this was one of the first times I had witnessed her shed tears. I remember feeling shackled, helpless.

  It never hit me that he was gone until a few days later. Mom explained he died in a car accident. When we buried him, I wore my baseball uniform. I carried my baseball and glove and had them buried with him because he loved baseball, and I wanted a piece of me with him.

  It took a long time for me to realize that my dad would never come home. The only things that kept me from falling into a downward spiral were my mom and baseball. Every time the frustration started to swell, I’d force my thoughts back to the positive and all the good memories I shared with him.

  I feel tight in my skin and my chest aches thinking how life would have been if he had stayed home from work that day. He would be here. He would have seen my homerun.

  A new throb immediately starts in my skull. I let my thoughts drift back to my life and the real pressure I’m under. That’s the reason why I feel so strongly about Lily, why I want her to have everything. Lily doesn’t have to lose anymore, and she doesn’t have to cry. I won’t be the one to make her cry. She’s young and won’t understand the seriousness of all of this, but I do, and I need to protect her.

  My phone rings, breaking my thoughts. I answer, letting my mom know everything is all right and then making sure Lily is okay.

  I need an out, unwilling to succumb to the emotions that tend to rush over me like a goddamn flood when it comes to Lily. Things will work out.

  They have to.

  I shake my head, disbelieving the bullshit that now has come to take over my life and wreaking chaos in Lily’s.

  I can’t think of anything else to do.

  Maybe the Bull and Bear is what I need after all.

  I’ve never been to this place. Bull and Bear. Sometimes it takes being lost to find something new. I don’t care as long as they serve alcohol. I park the car and uncork the bottle of wine sitting next to me and take one last sip before shoving it under the seat of my car. Anything can happen to a female who shows up at a bar tipsy and alone. I’m being irresponsible.

  It’s been quite a long time since I’ve done something like this. I’m not drunk, and I wasn’t technically drinking while driving. This is so out of character for me, but sometimes situations occur that make you stray from the norm. If things get crazy, I can call a cab or maybe James, but it seems he has other plans.

  I would hate to have my own husband trying to prosecute me for a DUI. Barbara would have a field day with something like that, so I have to mind my P’s and Q’s.

  Such a bitch.

  I slip out of my car and adjust my dress as I walk across the parking lot. I enter the Bull and Bear and walk straight to the bar, purposely not paying attention to those around me. I smell the thick stench of alcohol and cedar as the clinking of beer bottles, laughter, and loud music being played over the sound system fill my ears. I grab the first seat I see, place my purse onto the bar, and signal the bartender. I need to get drunk and put James out of my mind.

  I’m greeted with a set of brown eyes framed by silky straight brown hair.

  Cindy.

  “I’ll be right with you.”

  “Thank you,” I say as she takes care of her current customer.

  She looks gorgeous tonight. Her makeup is flawless. She turns, grabbing a frosted mug from the fridge from behind the bar. We’re almost identical in stature—long legs and curves in all the right places. Her frayed jean skirt, silky white sleeveless top, and black heels showcase her every asset. Mason’s girlfriend is drop-dead gorgeous.

  My eyes gravitate to her hand wrapped around the mug she’s filling with frothy beer. I check her finger as she slides the mug to the customer.

  No ring.

  This is starting to become a nasty habit.

  What started this? James? Our fragile marriage? Curiosity? Wondering if others are happy in their relationships or silently suffering like me?

  “Welcome to the Bull and Bear. I’m Cindy.” She quirks a brow in recognition as she places a napkin in front of me.”Weren’t you in the flower shop the other day?”

  Little does she know I know exactly who she is.

  What are the chances I would be here and that she works here?

  It’s a coincidence. This is a small town; we’re bound to run into each other.

  Clearing my throat, I say, “Yes, it’s nice to see you again. I’m Brie.” I smile and meet her gaze.

  “Same here. What can I get you?”

  “Vodka and cranberry.”

  “You got it.”

  She nods and heads over to fix my drink.

  I order the drink I had the last time James and I went out.

  How long has it been? Two weeks?

  He’d rather be out with his blonde bitch instead of me. Fine. No, I’m not fine.

  Why does this have to hurt so badly?

  James has always been friendly and flirtatious. That’s just his demeanor, but it’s slowly tearing me apart. We make promises to the people we love because we want them to feel loved, and we want them to know how much they mean to us. Couples make these promises sometimes because, perhaps, just maybe, we actually believe it’s possible to keep them. In my case, I’m able to keep mine, but it’s obvious my husband is finding it difficult.

  “Here you go.” Turning, I grab my drink, take a sip, and immediately realize this isn’t going to suffice tonight. I need something stronger.

  “A shot of Patrón, please. Make it two,” I quickly add.

  “Are you expecting someone?” She glances down at my hand where my ring sparkles on my finger like a beacon of light that is slowly starting to dim.

  “No, just me tonight. My husband is a busy man,” I reply with a hint of sarcasm.

  Looking down at the glass, I watch the soft scarlet liquid dance with the ice cubes. I lift the drink to my lips and empty the contents. Now, the ice cubes are cold and alone. I immediately grab one of the shots and throw it back. The alcohol goes to work quickly. My body relaxes, and the anxiety of the day is an afterthought. One more of these, and I will be in the perfect place—oblivious and numb to my life.

  I let out a long sigh, preparing myself for the next shot when a tingle travels through me, alerting my senses that someone has taken the seat next to me. I peek to my right as a set of brown, troubled, and intense eyes connect with mine. I gulp for air as my breath quickens, and my body ignites by his proximity and his subtle spicy scent. I smile and take a minute before responding to my unexpected company.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi.”

  His voice comes out so deep it rumbles, and my belly twists with the sound. Giving me a lopsided smile, he pivots his body toward me. His eyes twinkle as he waves Cindy over.

  “Yeungling, Cin.”

  “No problem.” She winks at him before walking away to get his beer.

/>   “Are you alone?” he asks, giving me his full attention.

  “I was.” Despite the sadness I felt a few seconds ago, I find it within myself to shove it away to enjoy my company. Flirting with a hunky repairman at the bar could possibly be a good way to get one over on James. Someone he knows and doesn’t seem to like makes it even better. “What are you doing here?”

  “Came to drown my sorrows.” He turns back to the bar when Cindy slides his beer to him. “Thanks.” He gives her a wink before she takes care of her next customer that seats himself at the bar. No kiss or hug, just a wink.

  Why do I even care if he kisses her?

  Perhaps he wants to keep things professional.

  What? This is a damn bar for god sakes! A bar is where it all happens. It was the first place James and I kissed in college and the first time I had sex in a bathroom. Suffice it to say, a ton of crazy shit occurs in a bar.

  I still when I feel Mason’s finger graze the side of my arm, and his mouth slides into a half-smile as he asks, “Are you okay?”

  “Of course, why?”

  “You’re here alone. Where’s James?” His tone is somewhat pleased.

  Is it? Or is it me so desperately wanting to feel desired that I’m searching for signals, trying to connect with someone?

  “Busy.”

  Our gazes lock. He’s gauging my mood, and his eyes swim with something I wish I didn’t see.

  He hesitates before responding, “You can talk to me about anything, you know. Your secret is safe with me, Brie.”

  My name on his tongue sends goose bumps to the surface of my skin, and I shift uncomfortably in my seat. I don’t want to talk about my failing marriage to a guy I’m strangely attracted to that I’ve only run into a couple of times.

  “No secrets,” I say tonelessly. “I think I told you that last time.”

  “You did.” He takes a sip of his beer. “Well, I had a rough day,” he says, probably because he sensed I wasn’t going to budge.

  “Too many service calls?” I tease, bumping his elbow. His eyebrows rise ever so slightly at the contact.

  “A different kind of call,” he mutters, rubbing his hands over his face. “A blast from the past.”

  “Old girlfriend?” I smile meekly, staring at the second shot of Patrón, eager to pick it up and drink it.

  “No, I wish it were. It would be much easier to deal with.” He takes a healthy drink of his beer before he speaks again, “It’s about Lily.”

  My heart thrums in my chest.

  “Is she okay?”

  “She’s fine,” he says softly with an anxious expression on his face. “Her father showed up after four years.”

  “I-I…” I stutter in disbelief.

  His gaze flickers over to me. “I know you thought Lily was mine because she called me Daddy when I picked her up at your studio. She’s my late sister’s daughter, and I’ve been taking care of her. I’m the closest thing she has to a daddy.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say. Feeling heartbroken over his situation, I reach out to touch his arm, wanting to comfort him in a small way. “What are you going to do?”

  “If he came back here to take her, I won’t give up without a fight. She means everything to me, and if I lose her, I don’t know what I’d do.” The look on his face and the pain in his voice cut deeply into my own heart. I see how much he loves her; I hear it in his voice. “I may need a lawyer. I need to be prepared.”

  I lean in closer to him, so he can hear me better over the music. “It will work out.”

  “I want it to. It needs to.”

  “I would fight for her, too.”

  “I plan on it. Even though she’s not mine, she feels like mine. When you have one of your own, I’m sure you feel it that much more.”

  His words rip my heart out, and my eyes close on their own accord as I try to gather my strength. The words tumble out before I can catch them.”I don’t know if I’ll ever experience that.” My voice sounds strange, and I wince at the child-like tone. I feel vulnerable as I let my pain take over.

  “What do you mean?”

  “James…I don’t know if he wants kids.” I open up to him as moisture threatens my eyes. Why I feel comfortable telling him this is a question I can’t answer.

  No kids. No first smile, first tooth, first step.

  I want to hold out hope, but I don’t know anymore, not after what I saw today.

  I look up as the bar lights cast his face in shadows, but I can see the beauty in his handsome face. He doesn’t say anything, just stares at me as his hand comes out to lift my chin. I cannot do anything but look into his eyes. Eyes that are looking at me with such tenderness while forbidden emotions swirl violently inside me for a man I barely know.

  He takes my hand and wraps his around mine, causing air to be taken from my lungs.

  “I saw how you were with Lily. You’d be a perfect mother, just like you’re a perfect wife.”

  James has never said anything like this to me, knowing how badly I want a family. I open my mouth to say something to this gorgeous man for his kind words, but my mind and heart are hurting. Instead, with a shaky voice, I say, “I think he’s cheating on me.”

  Shit, I let it all out.

  He must feel me slowly plummeting into the abyss, and for a couple of minutes, we sit in silence. He reaches out his hand and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. His finger grazing the shell of my ear makes my entire body prickle with heat.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

  “I guess our worlds are not so great right now.”

  “It’s gotten better seeing you here, Brie.”

  I turn to my shot to assist me in getting past my tangled sensations and desires. Or maybe I shouldn’t since I have issue with remembering and controlling urges, but James seems to have issue with controlling his own without the addition of alcohol. I snatch the shot, careful not to spill any. God knows how much I need every last drop of it.

  “That’s a strong drink,” he states simply.

  “Sometimes, something strong is the only thing that’ll work.”

  “Let me join you. I’m all about taking good advice.” He smiles, and his eyes light up as he takes the shot from me.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I think someone has had enough and needs to learn how to share.” A flicker of amusement flashes across his face.

  “I think I know when I’ve had enough, and I love to share when asked properly,” I say, reaching for my shot.

  “Oh, really?” he asks. My eyes coast over to him as he throws back the shot, placing the empty glass onto the bar and licking his lips.

  Those lips.

  I couldn’t keep back my smile. Turning, I wave to Cindy to replace my stolen shot, but he gently grabs my arm to stop me. My heart is beating so loudly I’m pretty sure he can hear it.

  “Let me get that for you.” His eyes glint wickedly.

  “How would your girlfriend feel about you hanging out with another woman at a bar like this?”

  “My girlfriend?” He pulls back from me with a confused look on his face. “I haven’t had a girlfriend in…a while.” Darkness like black raven wings spreads across his eyes.

  Typically, I wouldn’t have the balls to ask such a question, especially to a man with whom I’ve only spoken briefly. Liquid courage. Their relationship must be steadfast if she can handle seeing her man at the bar with another woman.

  “Cindy. The bartender,” I say with mild unease, not sure of his response.

  Chuckling, he shakes his head, and when he looks at me, his eyes shimmer and there’s a blush on his cheeks that wasn’t there before. Now, I’m the one that’s confused.

  “Where did you get that idea?”

  “I saw you together in town, the day I clogged traffic,” I say, a little flustered at my assumption that Cindy was his girlfriend just because I saw his arm wrapped around her. If that’s the case with Mason, maybe I’m overanalyzing what I saw going on with
James and the blonde.

  That’s different, Brie. James is your husband. He shouldn’t be touching another woman.

  “Cindy is my cousin.”

  My cheeks blaze red. “Oh.” Is all I can muster in response.

  There’s a seductive gleam in his eye, like he’s pleased with my reaction, as he leans in to whisper into my ear, “You look very pretty when you’re embarrassed. It makes me want to prove you wrong again.”

  I purse my lips, trying not to smile. We stare at each other for a moment. The quiet makes me uncomfortable, so I play with the ring on my finger as Hayley Williams sings about staying the night. Mason looks at the time on his watch before he turns to grab Cindy’s attention and orders another beer.

  As I watch Mason, I reminisce about our first encounter. I guess I can say that a sort of friendship has started to develop between us. I don’t know how he got me to talk to him about my fears. Maybe it’s the understanding I see in his eyes and because he’s in a similar place in his own life.

  The banter is light for the next hour, allowing me to forget what made me come to a bar alone in the first place. I don’t want to leave his company, but I have to go home to my husband, regardless of what I saw earlier today. An awkward silence descends upon us. He nods, paralyzing me with the thread connecting us when I rise to leave.

  We stop directly in front of the exit. He swings open the door, and the moment the night air hits my face, I feel as though I can breathe. My knees buckle, fatigue and alcohol taking a toll on my body as we walk through the empty parking lot. Catching me by the waist, he draws me into him as I try to steady myself. When I look up, he’s staring at me through unreadable golden brown eyes.

  His arms tighten around me, bringing our bodies infinitely closer, his breath warming the skin on my neck. My heartbeat quickens by the way he holds me, possessive and confident. Only our breath and clothing separate us. I don’t speak or move away. A small part of me, the part that was humming with desire, wants to rebel, but my rational thought is clouded as I soak in his features. My breathing is erratic as his eyes linger on my lips a beat too long.