Kristen Ashley - Dream Man 02

by Kristen Ashley

  “What the frig? ”

  We all turned to her to see her glaring at the empty, ornate, milky green glass cake stand at the edge of my counter (I’d rotated).

  “What?” I asked.

  Her eyes cut to me and she jabbed a finger at the cake plate. “What’s that?”

  I looked to the cake plate then I looked to her.

  Then I answered, “That’s my fabulous, ornate, green glass cake plate.”

  “It sure is fabulous,” Daisy agreed, eyeing my cake plate. “I need to get me one of those.”

  But Martha’s eyes narrowed, as in went squinty, I knew what that meant so instead of thanking Daisy, I kept my focus on Martha.

  “It’s empty,” she pointed out.

  I looked at the cake plate then at her.

  “Yeah,” I agreed unnecessarily.

  She glared at me.

  What on earth?

  “Martha –” I started.

  She cut me off to say, “We’re going shopping and, after, we’re hitting Club. We dropped by to see if you wanna go.”

  No way in hell. Not that I didn’t want to spend time with her but I was shopped out.

  Buying presents for Brock, his boys, his family and my personal list had beat even me, a seasoned shopper dedicated to remaining as such. I had vowed to myself (and shared with Brock, who not only approved, he also laughed his ass off when I shared it), that I had sworn off malls until March.

  Therefore, I had to find a kickass nightie for his Valentine’s present online (for I might have sworn off malls but I figured online shopping didn’t count).

  “I’ve sworn off malls,” I announced, saw Martha’s eyes get big and heard Elvira and Daisy suck in shocked breaths. “Christmas did me in. The bakery was crazed and having to buy presents for Brock, his boys, his family, you, all my employees, Mom, my sis and –”

  “I know your network has expanded, Tess, I know, ” Martha cut me off to say.

  Oh man.

  There it was.

  “Martha –”

  “I also know my Tess never but never has an empty cake stand at her house. And my Tess could shop until she dropped as evidenced by you getting up with me at five o’clock in the morning when that travelling, discount designer shoe emporium opened up their tent at the flea market and we stood in line for four hours to get in and we tried on every single pair of shoes in our size even if we didn’t like them just in case they looked hot on when they didn’t in the box. And my Tess could get busy at the bakery but she’d pry herself away to meet for a quick lunch or pop by for a glass of wine or be home occasionally so I could pop by her place.”

  “I went to that emporium,” Daisy whispered to Shirleen. “Found me three pairs of boots.

  Three. It was hot.”

  “Mm hmm,” Shirleen muttered back, not tearing her eyes off the action.

  I said to my friend, “Martha, honey –”

  She threw up her hands. “But oh no, not you. Not the new Tess. Brock’s Tess. Brock’s Tess barely has time to return a text because she’s busy with him, his boys, his family, staying over at his house, having his fancy-ass new truck in front of hers –”

  I interrupted to ask, “Are you still stalking me?”

  “Am I Martha Shockley, your best friend since fifth grade?” she asked back.

  “Martha, things have been busy,” I snapped.

  “Yeah, busy with you gettin’ a little somethin’ somethin’ from a bad boy,” she leaned in,

  “liberally. You don’t have time for me but you have time to haul your kick-boxing ass to his house on average three days a week seeing as your car isn’t here or the bakery.”

  Jeez, she’d totally been stalking me.

  “Oo, lawdy,” Elvira muttered.

  “You got that right, sugar,” Daisy matched her mutter.

  I glared at Martha.

  “I’m in a new relationship,” I reminded her. “It’s always intense when it’s new.”

  “You’re in over your head is what you are,” Martha shot back and my torso jerked back.

  “Oo, lawdy,” Elvira repeated.

  “You got that right, sugar,” Daisy whispered.

  “You don’t know what I’m in,” I said softly to Martha.

  “No, you’re right, I don’t,” Martha agreed. “Because I never see you or talk to you.” She shook her head and crossed her arms on her chest, saying, “I never thought you, you, Tessa O’Hara, my best friend since I could remember would toss me aside for a guy, I don’t care how hot he is.”

  “Depends on what he’s packin’,” Shirleen whispered to Daisy and Daisy audibly stifled another giggle.

  I kept my gaze on Martha.

  Then I announced, “I’m in love with him.”

  At that, her torso jerked back and she added her eyes getting big. The rest of the women shuffled their feet but kept silent.

  I kept talking.

  “I’ve shared this with him and Brock has shared he feels the same about me.”

  “Oh God,” Martha whispered, sounding slightly horrified.

  “I’m happy,” I told her. “Happier than I’ve ever been in my life which makes it suck that his wife is playing games and using her sons as pawns to do it, filling their heads with crap about Brock being with me meaning they can’t ever have a family again and making plays to get Brock back when he hates her only slightly more than I do.”

  “Oh God,” Martha whispered, sounding definitely horrified.

  I nodded. “She’s a piece of work and a pain in the ass and the kids are totally confused because they like me but she’s pretty much telling them they can’t because if they do, that means they don’t love her.”

  “Oh God,” Martha repeated on a whisper, staring at me.

  “And, if that wasn’t enough, Brock’s Dad has cancer and might be dying from it. There’s history there that’s unpleasant and his possible future demise is stirring up stuff that has long since been buried and Brock’s dealing with his own emotions with all that as well as his Mom’s, his sisters’ and his brother’s.”

  “Oh Tess, I didn’t know.” Martha was still whispering.

  “I did,” Elvira mumbled to Daisy and Shirleen. “I had Thanksgiving with them and we’ll just say his people are not The Waltons ‘cause, far’s I know, The Waltons never dropped the f-bomb repeatedly.”

  I ignored Elvira’s commentary and replied to Martha.

  “No, you’re right, you didn’t because I haven’t had time to tell you because all that’s happening on top of the bakery being busy and if that wasn’t enough, when Brock came back into my life, Damian came over for reasons only Damian understands.”

  Martha’s torso shot back again but this time her eyes got wide and she sucked in a breath.

  “That’s her ex, he’s cornered the market on asshole,” Elvira explained on a mutter to Shirleen and Daisy.

  “Lotsa those,” Shirleen muttered back.

  “No, sister, I mean he’s cornered the market on asshole, ” Elvira stated firmly and Daisy and Shirleen stared at her with dawning understanding then they looked at me.

  “Why did he come over?” Martha asked softly.

  “I don’t know, Brock answered the door and wouldn’t let him in. Then he threatened that if he ever saw Damian anywhere near me, he’d deal with him. Then he shut the door in Damian’s face. Then he called his law enforcement buddy and told him to tell the DA to tell Damian’s attorneys that he wouldn’t only be facing drug charges but also harassment, assault and sexual assault charges.”

  More air being sucked in all around as understanding fully dawned.

  “This Damian Heller we’re talkin’ about?” Shirleen asked and I nodded to her. “Shit,” she muttered.

  “Unh-hunh,” I agreed.

  “Tess, I had no –” Martha started and I looked to her and cut her off.

  “I know you didn’t and you wouldn’t because I didn’t have time to tell you. But now I hope you understand why I didn’t h
ave time to tell you. And that’s just that. I didn’t get into the fact that Damian is poking around in Brock’s life to find some way to make him miserable.”

  “Holy crap,” Martha mumbled.

  “No joke,” I replied.

  “Girl, I’m so sorry. This all sucks,” she said quietly.

  “Yeah, it does. Because he’s a good guy, Martha. The best. I didn’t even know they made guys like him but I can tell you I’m not only happy to know I’m beside myself with glee that he’s mine.”

  She held my eyes.

  Then she whispered, “You do love him.”

  “Yeah,” I replied. “He thinks I’m beautiful and told me so. He thinks I’m funny because I make him laugh all the time. He’s fantastic in bed and when I say that not once, not even once have we been together where he hasn’t taken care of me and it’s not unheard of he takes care of me twice in one go.”

  “Oh boy, TMI,” Elvira muttered.

  “Yowza,” Daisy muttered.

  “Holy crap,” Martha muttered.

  “Hold onto that one, girl,” Shirleen muttered.

  My voice dropped quiet when I kept laying it out for Martha. “He gets close to me anytime I’m near. And his Dad says he does it like he thinks there’s a lion that’s going to come charging into the room and Brock wants to be close enough to protect me. And he wasn’t wrong, Martha, you know with Damian back, and Brock knows, that lion is prowling out there and Brock…” I swallowed as I felt tears sting my nose, “Even with all this stuff going down, Brock’s positioning to make sure that lion doesn’t get anywhere near me.”

  “Oo lawdy,” Elvira whispered.

  Martha continued to hold my eyes. Then tears filled hers.

  Then she whispered, “You love him.”

  “Yeah,” I replied.

  “You love him,” she repeated.

  I grinned. “Yeah.”

  Then she threw both arms straight in the air and shouted, “My best friend’s in love with a bad boy hot guy!”

  Elvira rolled her eyes. Shirleen stared at Martha like she had a screw loose. Daisy giggled her pretty bell laugh.

  I smiled at Martha.

  There you go. That was Martha. One drama fed into the next and all of them weren’t bad.

  I sighed a relieved sigh and a knock came at the door.

  Well, relief didn’t last long.

  I looked toward the door and stared at it like on the other side was a dirty bomb.

  “You two kiss and make up, I’ll get the door,” Elvira offered and I opened my mouth to stop her when I felt Martha’s arms close around me.

  And what did you do when your best friend since fifth grade’s arms closed around you?

  Yours closed right back.

  “I’m so happy for you honey,” she whispered.

  “I am too,” I whispered back then added, “Outside the sinister threat of impending doom delivered by one, the other or both of our exes and the cloud of possible terminal disease.”

  She pulled back but not out of my arms then she said softly, “This, too, shall pass.”

  I hoped she was right.

  “Uh, girlfriend,” Elvira was close; I let go of Martha and looked to her then beyond her to a handsome but somewhat elderly man I’d never seen in my life was standing just inside my door. “You got a visitor,” she informed me of the obvious then went on, “Says his name is Dade McManus.”

  I blinked at her then I looked at the handsome but somewhat elderly man standing just inside my door.

  Whoa.

  That was Olivia’s husband?

  He was handsome, yes. And I could see even a room away that his clothes were of very good quality as in he was not a stranger to Neiman’s good quality. And he wore them well on a still slim, fit body. And he had good style. And he was only somewhat elderly.

  Still.

  Maybe Brock was wrong. Maybe Olivia did want her bad boy hot guy ex-husband back.

  Damn.

  And double damn because what the fuck was he doing here?

  “Um…” I mumbled.

  “I’ll only take a moment of your time, Ms. O’Hara, but it’s important,” he called politely.

  Damn!

  “Who’s that?” Martha, up on her toes and at my side, whispered in my ear.

  “Brock’s ex-wife’s husband,” I whispered back.

  “Oo lawdy,” Elvira muttered.

  “You got that right, sugar,” Daisy whispered.

  “Fuckin’ A,” Shirleen mumbled.

  “Holy crap,” Martha murmured.

  “Uh… I’ll be right there,” I called, he cordially lifted his chin then moved to study the books on my inset shelves.

  Crap.

  I rolled my hands toward me to indicate the girls should huddle, they didn’t delay in huddling and I whispered low, “Okay, I don’t want to go shopping but I’ll meet you at Club later.” I turned to Martha and ordered, “Text me.” Then back to the group. “Have fun and if you happen to see a sexy nightie that shouts, ‘Happy Valentine’s Day!’ there’s a free cupcake in it for you.”

  “Make that a frosted sugar cookie with daisy sprinkles and I just found me a mission,”

  Shirleen stated and I nodded to her.

  “Two, if it’s super hot,” I said.

  She nodded back, a determined look in her eye and I guessed from that that Brock was going to have a happy Valentine’s Day. I shuffled them to the door, called farewells, gave Martha another hug and then they were gone.

  And I was alone with Olivia’s husband.

  One word and it was a word I never used in my life: egad.

  “Can I get you something? Coffee? Hot tea? Cocoa?” I offered and he turned from his polite perusal of my shelves to me.

  “No, Ms. O’Hara, I won’t take up much of your time.”

  “Tess,” I said softly and his head tipped to the side. “Everyone calls me Tess.”

  “Tess,” he said back, I smiled at him and motioned to the seating area.

  He took a seat in my armchair; I planted my ass in the couch.

  “What can I do for you Mr. McManus?”

  “Dade,” he corrected quietly and I nodded. Then he studied me a moment, shifted uncomfortably in his chair and then said, “I actually don’t know how to say this or even why I’m here.”

  This was a good question that had two parts. The second part being how he knew where I lived.

  “Can I ask how you, um… found me? I mean, where I live.”

  “I asked Joey,” he answered.

  Right. This made sense. The kids had been to my place and clearly Joel was as observant as his father.

  His eyes locked with mine and he stated, “I might as well just say it because you should know.” He paused then declared, “I have reason to believe your er… boyfriend and my wife are having an affair.”

  I blinked at him as my lungs contracted.

  “What?” I whispered.

  “I have…” he paused, “had the occasion to…” another pause, “hire someone to follow my wife,” he admitted. “And it’s been reported to me that twice she’s met your boyfriend for dinner.”

  I waited for more.

  None came.

  So I prompted, “And?”

  His brows drew together. “And?”

  “Yes, and?”

  “What do you mean, and?”

  Oh God.

  Belatedly, it hit me. He didn’t know his wife was meeting Brock for dinner to discuss custody. She hadn’t told him.

  Oh God.

  “Dade,” I said gently, “I know Brock has been meeting Olivia for dinner. This is because, recently, Brock made a career move which means his schedule is more stable. Therefore, a couple of weeks after Thanksgiving, Olivia received word from Brock’s attorney that he wanted to negotiate a joint custody arrangement. Olivia for…” it was my turn to pause, “her own reasons wanted to discuss uh…” Damn! “Various things with Brock including this and she asked him to meet for dinner. She
was, uh… somewhat, um… discontent when he refused and she was, um… discontent in front of the boys so Brock agreed. However, after two dinners without a resolution, Brock will now only be communicating through his lawyer.”

  His mouth had gotten tight right around the time I mentioned Olivia got word from Brock’s lawyer and it was stretched taut by the time I was done.

  Then he looked behind me out my side window.

  Oh man.

  “She hasn’t discussed this with you,” I said softly.

  “No,” he clipped shortly.

  I remained silent.

  Then I asked, “Are you sure you don’t want any coffee?”

  His eyes cut back to me and he didn’t answer my question.

  Instead he asked, “Discontent?”

  I again remained silent.

  “You mean she threw a tantrum in front of the boys to get her way.”

  I bit my lip. His eyes dropped to my mouth and his mouth again got so tight I thought his skin would split open.

  “Let me go put some coffee on,” I said softly and his eyes shot to mine.

  “And my wife’s reasons for wishing to see your boyfriend do not all revolve around discussing the boys seeing more of their father.”

  “No,” I whispered.

  He nodded and looked back out the window.

  “I’ll just go make some coffee,” I whispered, got up and hurried to the kitchen.

  I set it to brew, put out a plate and did the unheard of. I put store bought cookies on a plate for company.

  Sacrilege.

  But I didn’t think he wanted to hang while I whipped up one of my extravaganzas so that was going to have to do.

  I did unearth my fancy-shmancy coffee service and the cups with saucers, filled up the sugar bowl and creamer, set it all on a tray and carried it back.

  By the time I arrived, he was still contemplating my side yard landscaping with its thin but pretty layer of snow that sparkled in the sun. But he wasn’t seeing snow sparkling in the sun, by the look on his face he was trying to figure out how to get away with murder.

  “How do you take it?” I asked.

  “Splash of milk, please,” he answered, his eyes moving back to me.

  I fixed his coffee and gave it to him then fixed my own and sat back in the sofa.

  I barely got my back to the rest when he launched in.