Losers Weepers

by Nicole Williams

  “I’m going to overlook the fact that you just called me weak and just say thanks but no thanks.” Josie’s arms crossed, making Colt take a step back. He obviously wasn’t a stranger to Josie’s arms crossing and had learned to take the same retreat approach I had. “Jesse’s coming to help, so we’ll be good. Thanks though.”

  Colt glanced at the restaurant. Just when I thought he was about to issue a stilted good-bye, he leaned into the pick-up and got comfortable. “I’ll hang until he gets here then.”

  My forehead lined as I tried to figure out what his motives were because he was Colt Mason—he always had a motive. “Were you hoping to shoot the shit and catch up while you wait? Maybe plan a guys’ night out or something?” I kept my voice civil and finished with a shrug, but I was confused to say the least. He’d done his duty of making sure an old friend was okay after taking a spill out of her truck, so now he could just mosey along on his merry way. Why was he hanging around for Jesse to show up? They were about as good of pals as Colt and I were.

  When his eyes scanned the dark parking lot and narrowed on a spot where it sounded like a bottle had just broken, I got it.

  “I just want to make sure no one messes with Josie, you know? It’s a big, dark parking lot back here, and I know for a fact a few cars have been broken into recently.” His eyes lingered on that spot a moment longer before shifting back to us. “You never know what could happen, right? I’d hate to see Josie get hurt any more than she’s managed to do to herself.”

  My chest started rising and falling in hard pulls. Colt was staying to protect her. To make sure she was safe until another able-bodied man was on the scene and could protect her from whatever horrors and threats went bump in the night. Colt Mason was staying to protect Josie . . . because he knew I couldn’t.

  He was right too.

  “Colt”—Josie’s tone was past hinting at annoyance—“we’ll be fine. Go play the chivalrous card with someone else.”

  I gently squeezed her arm. “No, Joze, he’s right. It’s dark, late, and there are a couple of bars close by that are frequented by good-for-nothing fiends.” My throat burned from the words, but my pride wasn’t worth more than Josie’s safety. “Thanks for staying, Colt. We appreciate it.” When Josie grumbled and looked away as though she was now pissed at both of us, I added, “Well, I appreciate it.”

  It really couldn’t have been more than a minute or two, but sitting on the edge of that truck seat, feeling a level above helpless while steam rolled out of Josie’s ears and Colt continued to scan the parking lot as though dangers hid in every shadow, I felt like that minute took a year off my life. Probably because in the absence of conversation, all I could think about was how it was my job to protect her, and I couldn’t do that either.

  I couldn’t protect her. I couldn’t make love to her. I couldn’t drive her to a date in my own truck. I couldn’t not be a burden to her. Those reminders had done a solid job of dampening my mood by the time Jesse came jogging across the parking lot toward us.

  “Sorry, guys,” he said as he stopped in front of us. “We were later than I thought we’d be.”

  “Let me guess. Bad hair day?” I lifted my chin at his hat.

  He was preparing to reply when he noticed the third person in our little back lot powwow. Jesse stiffened, his forehead creasing. “Mason.” There was so little warmth in his address it couldn’t really have been considered a greeting.

  “Walker.” Colt nodded, looking in every direction but Jesse’s.

  My brows came together as I studied them. Jess and Colt had never been friends, but they’d never been enemies either. From the look of it, something had gone down between them to change that. I felt my mouth curling up at the corners. Yes, I was evil.

  “Jesse’s here. You can go now. Enjoy your dinner.” Josie motioned toward Jesse, who seemed to try not to glare at Colt.

  Colt looked between the three of us, like he was trying to figure his next move, then sighed and started walking away. That guy might have been the bane of my existence in my former life, but I couldn’t overlook what he’d done, even in the face of some serious opposition, if not aggression, from Josie.

  “Hey, Colt!” I didn’t wait for him to stop or look back. “Thanks for looking after Joze.”

  Acknowledging me with a wave, he continued to the restaurant.

  Josie spun around and leveled me with a look that equally turned me on and made me want to back away. “I can look after me. You can look after me.” Her index finger jabbed into my sternum. “But Colt Mason cannot look after me.” Her eyes narrowed another degree before she pushed away from the truck and marched across the parking lot.

  “Damn it,” I muttered, watching her the entire way just in case Colt’s premonitions were dead-on. Only when she’d thrown open the restaurant’s door and was safely inside did I let my stare shift. “She’s pissed.”

  Jesse already had the wheelchair out of the truck bed and was sliding it open. “I’d say she’s way beyond that actually.”

  I cocked my head at him. “Hey, thanks for the optimism, Mr. Sunshine. Where’s the positivity and annoying cheerfulness I’m used to getting when I whine to you?”

  Jesse wrestled with the wheelchair for a few more moments before bracing his hands on the back of the seat and exhaling. “Sorry. I’ve been a little preoccupied lately. My ‘annoying cheerfulness’ has gotten a little dusty, I guess.”

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  Jesse kept his head down as he came toward me. “Let’s talk about it later, okay? Before the girls get impatient and invite a couple other cowboys to take our places.”

  I grunted. “Any other cowboy than us would be a poor substitute.”

  That earned a smile from him. “Ready?” he asked as his arms slid around me.

  “Take me into your arms and make torrid love to me, big guy,” I said as I slipped an arm around his neck. I’d been lifted a handful of times by different people, and it never got easier. Having to be picked up like an infant by your best friend or your girlfriend’s dad or whomever else was a humbling experience I wouldn’t even wish on Colt Mason.

  “Not sure I’m up to torrid tonight, but I could probably squeeze out a marginally passionate.” Jesse was still smiling as he carried me to the wheelchair. He didn’t quite heave me when he first lifted me, but he came close. “Are you losing weight, Black?” He lowered me into the wheelchair.

  “Yeah, I have. The muscles in my lower body, along with my balls, are shrinking.” I lifted a brow at him. “Great way to lose weight quickly though. The paralyzed diet. Highly recommend it.”

  Jesse squatted to slide my boots into the footholds of the wheelchair. “Well, you’ve got to be pretty damn happy you can move your arms and chest now, right? How’s that for making progress?”

  I watched him fuss over getting my legs and feet just right and wondered if people fretting over me like that could be considered progress. “I guess. Though if I told you how much time I have to spend attending to my internal plumbing, I don’t know if you’d still consider the term progress applicable.”

  Jesse lifted his brows at me.

  “It sucks, Jess. I used to be able to take a piss in the span of a long yawn. Now I’m lucky if I can answer nature’s call in under a half hour.”

  After locking the truck, he closed the door and moved behind the wheelchair. “So other than your internal plumbing taking up half your day, how’s life?”

  “Stellar,” I said as the wheelchair crunched across the gravel.

  Jesse sighed. “How’s life really?”

  My instinct was to answer with another smartass comment, but if I could have been honest with anyone beside Josie, it was Jess. “Upside-down. That’s pretty much been the theme of my life for the past couple of weeks. You?”

  Jesse pushed me through the parking lot at a slow, controlled pace. “Upside-down works for me too.”

  I adjusted my hat as we approached the restaurant entrance. The
n I centered my belt buckle because somehow someone had gotten it all crooked. “Seattle busting your balls finally? I told you guys like us, who only knew open spaces and fresh air, would wilt in a big city. I’m surprised it’s taken you this long to reach that point.”

  Jesse took me up the ramp while a handful of others flowed up the stairs. “No, it’s not Seattle.”

  “Then what the hell has got your life so upside-down, Jess?” I twisted in my chair as much as I could to look at him. Our whole lives, Jesse had never been the brooding, worrisome type. That was my role. Hearing that streak of hesitation or anxiety or something similar in his voice gave me serious pause.

  As we rolled up to the doors, a couple of people waiting for a table held the doors open for us and moved aside. Jesse thanked them with a smile and a nod while I tried not to count every set of eyes full of pity and relief that landed on me for more than a lingering moment.

  “Later,” he answered with finality in his voice, and that was when I got it.

  What could cause Jesse’s whole world to shift upside-down? What could make his happy-go-lucky disposition take a temporary hiatus? What could be the reason he’d been dropped to his proverbial knees?

  The answer shouldn’t have eluded me for as long as it had.

  “Rowen?” I glanced at him. “This has something to do with Rowen, doesn’t it?”

  Jesse had such a terrible poker face he would have been better off never trying to fool anyone. The look he gave me now took that to a different level. “We’ll talk about this later, Black.” His voice was firm as he wheeled me to the reception counter. “When we’re not surrounded by two dozen people hanging on to every word Garth Black is saying.”

  I glanced at the crowds waiting for tables. “Between you and me, Jess, I don’t think it’s exactly my words they’re hung up on right now.” As we passed an older couple looking at me, I waved, but they didn’t notice. They were too busy staring at my legs to see my hand.

  I’d never walked into this restaurant, or anywhere in this town, without holding my head high, despite the gossip that came with the Black name. This might have been my first experience wheeling through the nicest restaurant in town, but I wouldn’t start lowering my eyes and hunching my shoulders now. I’d have been a liar if I said it wasn’t hard though. On my first official outing as Garth Black the Paralyzed, no one was letting me off easy. Every eye turned my way and felt like they were boring holes through me, whittling deeper and deeper until they came out the other side.

  “I’ll take it from here, Jess. Thanks for the lift.” I lowered my hands to the wheels.

  Jesse, picking up on my cue instantly, took his hands off the wheelchair grips and moved through the restaurant beside me. “Our table’s back here by the window.” Jesse lifted his chin toward the back of the restaurant where I could just make out the back of Rowen’s head.

  I glanced around the large room brimming with tables and chairs. It felt like more of an obstacle course or a maze. Jesse must have inspected the restaurant with my eyes, because after a moment, he exhaled.

  “Garth, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about it when the hostess sat us back there.” He shook his head. “I’ll see about getting a table closer.”

  I grabbed his wrist before he could turn and leave. “It’s fine.” I wheeled toward what looked to be the widest path. “I just wanted to give the girls another minute to catch up on their gossip before we showed up. Besides, these places are required to be handicapped accessible now.” I bumped into the back of a chair. Thankfully, it was an empty one. “Just spot me if it looks like I’m going to take out a small child or something.”

  Jesse followed me, clearly taking his task seriously. When he caught sight of a heel of bread in my path, he moved in front of me and kicked it aside. He did the same when he noticed a baby’s soft block in our path too. Although instead of kicking it, he picked it up, wiped it off on his shirt, and placed it in the baby’s pudgy little arms with a smile. The baby flapped its arms and legs, cooing at Jesse while the mom thanked him in her own way. Rowen would have gotten all territorial if she’d noticed the way the woman’s gaze drifted to Jesse’s backside and lingered for far too long for someone at a table with whom I guessed was her family.

  “So that ring you’re lucky didn’t fall out of your back pocket when you were cartwheeling over that bull . . .” Jesse glanced at me from the corner of his eye.

  After I’d been stripped at the hospital before getting tied into a hospital “dress,” Jesse was the one the staff had handed my clothes and other personal effects to. I supposed it was better he’d gotten them than Josie, but I knew better than to hope he wouldn’t bring up that ring. I’d been waiting for him to broach the topic since he’d slid those folded-up jeans into the hospital dresser drawer with a raised brow aimed in my direction.

  “How much longer are you planning on keeping it in your pocket?”

  I kept moving with my eyes forward. “Pretty much as long as I’m in this damn thing.”

  “Why did you buy it in the first place if you weren’t planning on doing anything with it then?” he asked.

  “Because I was planning on asking Josie to marry me.”

  “And that’s changed?”

  I shook my head and tightened my jaw. “No, that hasn’t changed, but I have.”

  Jesse’s face creased for a moment before he shook his head. “Yeah, I don’t get that pattern of thinking, but knock yourself out.”

  My jaw kept tightening. “Nobody asked you, big guy, so why don’t we just drop the whole ring topic before Josie’s ears start twitching?”

  Jesse shrugged what I guessed was his agreement before, from across the restaurant, a group of guys waved at him, motioning him over. When he answered with an apologetic wave, indicating Rowen only a few tables away, the guys cracked some imaginary whips before getting back to their beers. I knew a few of them, but not one had waved or made eye contact with me. I guessed that had more to do with me being at the eye-level of a first-grader instead of a grown man.

  “Adoration.” I lifted a brow at him. “How does it feel?”

  Jesse chuckled one note, pushing an empty chair aside to make extra room for me. “You’d know better than I would, Garth Black, professional bull rider.”

  I made sure he noticed me take in the room. The tables of people were looking at me in similar ways and lengths as the people in the waiting area had. “This isn’t adoration, Jess. This is a personified train wreck rolling right in front of their eyes.”

  Jesse shook his head at me as we passed the last few tables before ours. I felt as if I’d endured some kind of harrowing journey of a lifetime, and all I’d done was maneuver my way through a busy restaurant.

  That was when I noticed Colt. He was a couple tables over, sitting with his family. His whole family. A couple of his brothers stared at me with smirks, nudging each other and whispering something that had to have been quite hysterical from the way their laughs echoed around the restaurant. Colt shoved at them both, trying to shush them, but that only made them laugh harder. I was so busy glaring at them that I ran smack into the back of a chair. A chair someone was actually occupying. The woman in it let out a loud oomph! before whipping her head around to see what had happened.

  “Sorry, ma’am,” I said instantly, rolling away from her chair. When she twisted around in her seat, I noticed the fresh dark purple stain on her blouse and the tipped over wine glass in front of her. “Ah, shit. God, I’m sorry.”

  When her lips pursed together, they looked in danger of sticking that way, and I noticed the slew of children staggered around the table, gaping at me as though I were going to hell because I’d just taken the Lord’s name in vain.

  From the Mason table, more laughter rolled through the restaurant. I felt my face wanting to redden, my body wanting to disappear into the floorboards, as the woman and what felt like the whole restaurant either glared, stared, or laughed at me. That was when Josie appeared, crouchin
g beside me and angling herself toward the woman.

  She covered my hand with one of hers and put on a smile. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Grueller. I’m going to leave my number with you, and I want you to call me once you know how much it will be to either dry-clean or replace your blouse. We’ll be more than happy to take care of it. I’ve got a jacket out in my truck that I’ll run and get so you can wear that if you like. We’re close to the same size, I’m sure.”

  The woman’s face softened in the space of a few words from Josie, ending up almost peaceful by the end of her apology. Josie was just standing when Mrs. Grueller shook her head. “Don’t worry about it, hon. I’ve got six kids under ten years old. I wouldn’t know what to do if I made it through a meal without winding up with a stain or two on my shirt.” She smiled at Josie before patting her hand. “Say hi to your mom for me, would you?”

  “Of course. And make sure you swing by soon before all the raspberries are gone. Lord only knows how many PB & J sandwiches you go through with this brood.” Josie waved at a few of the kids.

  “I’ll do that. Raspberry jam does, after all, make quite the impressive stain.” After sharing a laugh, Josie and Mrs. Grueller said good-bye. She even said a friendly enough good-bye to me as I passed by.

  “See the benefits of having more friends than enemies?” Josie whispered in my ear with, from the sound of it, a victorious smile.

  “People who freeload off your raspberry bushes to feed their gaggle of offspring?”

  She was in the middle of a sigh when I threw my arm around her neck and drew her face close to mine. Whatever anger had sprung up back in the parking lot seemed to be gone, and she was back to her usual feisty, fun self. One of the great things about Joze was her ability to rip through emotions like a kid on Christmas morning. She let herself feel what she needed to then moved on.

  “I’m sorry about what happened in the parking lot,” I said as we headed to our table. It had only taken me twenty minutes . . . “Do you forgive me?”