"Hey honey,” Riley says, as Jensen Bradford enters the house.
"There's my sexy baby mama," Jensen says, scooping her up in his arms and hugging her as she wraps her legs around him.
"Daddy!" Drew cries, throwing his own arms around both his mother's and father's legs.
Caleb continues to look through the screen door, pointing and saying "mo-to-cycle, go go mo-to-cycle!"
"I missed you both so much," Jensen says, giving Riley a passionate kiss.
"Oh, and you too Brynn," he adds playfully. "How've you been?"
"Good," I answer. "Hi Jensen."
He grabs Riley's ass and kisses her again before scooping Drew up into his strong, muscular arms. I can tell by her flushed face and the way she squeezes Jensen's back that she loves it.
And who wouldn't?
I turn away to start applying my makeup in the bathroom, partially to give them their privacy but also because I'm trying to hold back a mixture of emotions. Bewilderment. Sadness for myself, but happiness for my good friend.
And maybe even some jealousy. For what she has, and what I don't, and probably never will.
It’s time to stop being a baby, because I’m seriously happy for my friend. But sometimes, I have to tell myself to snap out of it and stop being so sad for my own situation.
Chapter 3 – Brynn
When Riley told me she was dating Jensen, I couldn't quite believe it.
"He's your client?" I’d asked her, trying to hold back my surprise.
While working at her previous firm, Riley had volunteered to represent former military personnel pro bono. Some of them were accused of crimes. Including Jensen.
"He was my client," she says. "Now he's... not. And I don't even know that we're dating anymore. Or that we ever were. It's all so confusing."
"But he's... like... a criminal," I'd said, flabbergasted.
I don't think the men I'd dated had gotten so much as a parking ticket.
"He's accused of a crime," she'd said defensively. "Which, you know as well as I do, and more than anyone else in professions other than ours should know, doesn't mean he's guilty of it."
"Well, yeah," I'd said, feeling bad for my harsh judgment, but no less confused about what she saw in him. I’d also been shocked at her defensive tone. "But, you know what I meant."
"Honestly, I couldn't believe it myself at first," she'd told me. "But something just clicks between us. Something I never thought I would feel."
It turned out that Riley's feelings for Jensen didn't go away. They just continued to grow. I’d first met him when I was in town for their engagement party and I still couldn't believe she was with him.
I mean, he was attractive. That much was clear. Attractive was an understatement. He was a beefcake with a model's face. But Riley had never been one to fall for a guy based on his looks alone.
And this guy— Jensen— was just from a completely different world than we were. His whole job was to go to war, or train other people to go to war. He was an ex military guy through and through. An ex Navy SEAL, no less.
He was even in a motorcycle gang, for goodness' sake. Or, at least, he was in the process of joining one when he and Riley first got together— a “prospect,” I believe they’d called the term, of the Desert Dogs club— and now I'm pretty sure he's a full-fledged member.
And then there was Riley, working at a swanky, successful law firm, never having had a rough edge to her at any point in her life. I couldn't figure it out.
But something happened. She changed for the better. I didn't think she had needed to, but I had to admit that she had. And I also had to admit that a big part of that change came from her relationship with Jensen.
She left that law firm, which she said was engaging in unethical business practices, and began working for that nonprofit organization representing other veterans like Jensen. She seemed happier, more carefree. And absolutely in love with Jensen.
I had no choice but to approve wholeheartedly of their union. And then when Drew came along, it seemed there had been an even bigger purpose to their meeting.
Because that kid is just so cute and so smart and so good— despite the way he's been scowling at Caleb all night, which is understandable since Caleb hasn’t been wanting to share his toys with him— that there could be no other parents meant to be his parents in the entire world, except for Riley and Jensen.
"I was just telling Brynn that I look ridiculous dressed as a loofah," Riley says now.
"You're the sexiest ridiculous loofah I've ever seen," Jensen says. "Hold on, let me put on my part of our joint costume."
He reaches over to the hallway closet and pulls out a cardboard box that's been painted white and has the word "Dove" written on it, to make it look just like a bar of soap. He puts it over his head as both Caleb and Drew laugh.
"Now I match my beautiful loofah here,” he says, putting his arm around Riley as best as can in his costume.
I laugh along with the boys. It is pretty funny that Jensen is dressed as a bar of soap. Obviously he's a softie underneath his tough exterior, and Riley has transformed him from a hardened SEAL and motorcycle club member to a loving and even slightly goofy husband and father who insists on wearing crazy couples' costumes on Halloween.
I'm glad that Riley found her happy ending even though it had turned out to be hiding where I, and even she, had least expected it to be. And I'm happy that she and Jensen are still so gaga over each other. They're what every married person— and co-parent— aspires to be.
But seeing them like this reminds me of what I don't have. And what Caleb doesn't have.
I have to pay close attention to applying my eyeliner, so that I don't screw it up. And so that I don't dwell too much on what my friend has and I don't. The last thing I want to be is jealous tonight, or sad for that matter. I just want to go out and have a nice time with my best friend and her husband.
"Mmm mmm mmm," I hear Jensen say from the foyer, with exaggerated cheesiness.
I peer past the bathroom door to see him fake smothering Riley and Drew with kisses.
"I just couldn't wait to get home and kiss my wife and son. Mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm."
"Ewww gross," I tell them, playfully. "Keep your family- sized displays of public affection to yourself."
I turn back to the mirror to begin applying mascara, even though I can never do it right. My eyelashes always end up looking like huge, ugly spiders. But I guess that's fitting tonight, since it’s Halloween.
"Don't feel left out," Jensen tells me. "Because I wasn't about to let you be the fifth wheel tonight. I have a little surprise for you."
"What?" I ask, as I squint at myself in the mirror, trying to determine if the eyelashes- turned- spider legs above my right eye, to which I'd just applied the mascara, are too long. I've taken off my glasses to be able to apply the makeup, and I haven't put my contacts in yet, so I can't easily tell.
"Geez, Jensen," Riley says, and I can tell she's slapping him playfully on the arm, even though I can't see it. "You were supposed to be a little subtler."
"Make what a little subtler?" he asks, feigning innocence.
I have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach about whatever it is they're talking about. It's almost as bad as when I was watching the news about the clowns. But not quite. Because that feeling was the worst one I’ve had in a long time.
Suddenly, I hear the screen door swing open yet again and then Caleb says, "Mo-to-cycle man."
I'm going to kill Riley if she's trying to set me up with someone from Jensen's motorcycle club. She totally knows that's not my type of guy. And just because she was pleasantly surprised by Jensen doesn't mean I'll feel the same about whatever random biker she’s wanting to try to hook me up with.
I turn around to look, trying to control my annoyance and even anger at Riley for being part of this plan— whatever it is— without at least warning me beforehand that something was up.
"Hey there," says a man dressed in jeans an
d a motorcycle jacket, looking strangely out of place compared to the costumes that Riley, Jensen and I are wearing.
I think he's nodding at them, or me, but I can't really tell without my glasses or contacts on. From what I can tell though, he's the hottest guy I've ever seen.
"Brynn, come out here and meet my friend," Jensen says. "Don't be rude."
"Honey!" Riley protests, but then laughs. "She's just a little shy..."
It's not that, I want to tell her. I just happen to have only one eyelash covered in spider- lash mascara.
And I don't want to be set up with anyone in a motorcycle club. Especially someone who's not even wearing a costume for a costume party, I think, as I put my glasses on.
But I forget that thought almost as soon as I think it. Because now I can clearly see what I'd already thought was true. This "motorcycle man" is the hottest guy I've ever seen.
Chapter 4 – Brynn
After a few seconds that feel like years, in which I unsuccessfully try to compose myself, I finally decide to come out of the bathroom. It's not like I can stay in here all night. Plus, the door’s open, so he can see that I’m in here— it’s not like I’m successfully hiding.
And damn, Jensen's friend is fine. I just need to get a closer look at him, and I'll get it out of my system.
At least that's what I tell myself as I approach him. But even getting a little closer to him makes me want to fan myself.
He's tall— at least six feet— and he's rocking a unique combination of black hair and blue eyes. His chest is broad and muscular, and his biceps and triceps are so defined that it looks like he lives at a gym.
His smile is both mysterious and mischievous as he watches me approach.
"Well, hello there, Doll," he says. "I'm Larson Campbell. I'm Jensen's friend from the military, and from the Desert Dogs."
"I'm... Brynn," I manage to choke out, embarrassed that I seem to have momentarily forgotten my own name. "Brynn Elliot."
Once I gather my wits about me again, I realize that I've heard of him. Jensen and Riley have mentioned him, and word around town is that he's an outlaw. Running from someone or something, although I don't know exactly what.
But he sure is a hot outlaw.
"And this is Caleb," I quickly add, as if to say, See? I've got a kid. You look like the type that likes to have fun, but I can't have much fun, because I've got a very serious responsibility. So be on your way now.
Despite my earlier panic at seeing myself in a skirt that only a 20 year old should be wearing, I know I'm not an unattractive woman. Guys have complimented me on my curves and my hourglass shape. But they've also darted away from me as fast as they could, as soon as they found out I have a kid.
So, I like to let them know up front that I have a kid, and in this case, I don't have much of a choice, considering that said kid is literally standing right in front of Larson, looking up at him like he's the best thing he's ever seen. Much the same way that I am.
"Hello there, Caleb," Larson says, bending down and patting him on his head. "What's that truck you've got there?"
Caleb hands it over willingly, causing Drew to scowl. He's been trying to grab that truck all afternoon without success, only to watch Caleb easily hand it over to someone else now.
"Dump truck," Caleb says proudly.
"It sure is," Larson agrees. "Beep beep beep. Grrrrrrr!"
He makes truck noises as he drives the toy vehicle back and forth over his strapping chest muscles. It's simultaneously the hottest and most adorable thing I've ever seen, and I try hard not to look as swoony as I feel.
"I was just telling Larson here how he should come to the party with us," Jensen says. "In fact, I've been trying to convince him all week. But he says he doesn't do costume parties. And you can't get in without a costume. So, guess he's just SOL. Isn't that a shame, Brynn?"
Jensen fake pouts while Riley playfully swats at him again.
I don't know whether I feel relieved that the temptation has been removed from me by Larson’s lack of a costume or upset that Larson obviously just came here to tease me.
But before I have time to dwell on it, there's another knock at the door and a woman's voice saying, "We're here! Finally!"
Riley opens it to her sister-in-law Whitney Bradford.
"So sorry I'm late," Whitney says, as she helps a little boy through the door. "I’m watching James for Ramsey and Monica— they went on a little Halloween getaway; I guess they’re having some one on one time— and he took forever to go down for his nap, so of course he just now woke up, right when I was hoping he'd go to sleep for the night so I can watch some sleazy reality TV while you guys are off gallivanting at your Halloween party."
"I'm the one who's sorry, Whitney," Riley says, taking the diaper bag and overnight bag from her hands. "You really don't have to..."
"Watch the kids tonight," Whitney finishes for Riley. "I know. But I want to. You know me, though. Always liking to complain, even about things I want to do."
They both laugh, and I feel another pang of jealousy. Once again, I’m happy that they’re close, but sad I don’t have anyone like that in my life.
“Plus,” Whitney adds, “It’s not like I could party down tonight anyway, being pregnant and all. I might as well get some practice childcare in.”
We laugh, and I tell her, “Oh, that’s right! Congratulations!”
"Hello, Brynn," Whitney says, giving me a hug. "And thank you. How have you been? I haven't seen you in ages."
"I know," I tell her, hugging her back and smelling her pleasantly scented perfume. I always forget to wear any. "Riley and I were just saying that we haven't seen each other since her wedding. And that's when I met you and I haven't even seen you since then. But I hear that your own wedding to Harlow was great. Riley shared some pictures on Facebook, and it looked absolutely beautiful"
Whitney married Jensen's brother Harlow. It was a double wedding in which Jensen's and Harlow’s brother Ramsey also married his wife Monica.
"Thanks," Whitney says. "I can't believe Harlow had to work tonight, but I'm happy to watch the kids since he and I can't go with you guys."
I can't help but feel hit with multiple reasons to be jealous today, all staring me in the face. I like Riley's sisters-in-law and I'm happy that Riley has close family members. I know logically it makes sense that Riley would be best friends with them too.
But she and I had been friends first. And now I never see her. I know that's more my fault than hers, though. I rarely make it home to Albuquerque and I can't expect her to come all the way to visit me in New York when her family and life are here.
Still, I've never seen her be so cozy with another female before and I don't really have any other friends besides her. I'm so busy working all the time and caring for Caleb that I have no time to go out and meet people or do things with the acquaintances that I do have.
Not to mention the fact that Riley has all of this love in her life and I only have Caleb. As I think about my little guy in his monkey costume, though, I know that having him is enough.
And I'm grateful to have Riley as such a long-standing friend. I tell myself to stop the pity party and get excited for this Halloween party. Even if the strong, burly biker isn’t going to be in attendance.
"Caleb, say hello to Miss Whitney," I say.
I look down at my feet— where usually Caleb, being a rather shy, clingy boy, is perpetually hiding— but he's not there.
"Oh," I turn around and notice that he's chasing after Larson, who has gone into the kitchen to make himself a drink.
I guess Larson really has a talent for bringing Caleb out of his shell somehow.
"I'll have a drink too," Jensen calls out to Larson. "Whiskey on the rocks."
"I know what you drink, you… moron," Larson says, smiling. I can tell he was about to use another word but chose “moron” due to the fact that there are kids present, and I appreciate his thoughtfulness. “We only spend half our waking hours eithe
r at the clubhouse or down at Louie’s."
Oh my God.
I try hard not to roll my eyes. Back in law school, Louie’s was the local dive bar, known for its bikers, beers, and brawls.
I guess some things never change.
I tell myself that this Larson guy is definitely not my type. But then I look at his ass as he pours the drink, and I have to try to convince myself of that fact a little harder.
"Oh crap," I say. "I need to finish putting on my makeup."
I can't believe I'm still standing here with only one spider eye applied. From the way that Larson looked me up and down approvingly when we just met, I don't think he noticed or cared. But I've always been shy and I suddenly feel incredibly self-conscious about every little thing.
And who wouldn't be around Larson? The guy's pouring a drink in Riley's kitchen while causing my panties to get noticeably wet. Which is the last thing I need when wearing this damn short skirt.
But I can't seem to stop staring. This guy is so ripped he could lift me with one finger.
I can't help but feel as if I'm on the verge of doing something really stupid. Like begging and pleading this stranger with the pecs so obvious they're protruding out from under the white tee shirt and leather vest to take me to this party now and fuck my brains out later.
"Oh crap!" Caleb repeats the word I just used in reference to needing to finish applying my makeup.
"Honey, don't say that word," I tell him, cringing in Riley's direction. "That's just a word Mommy says when she's feeling frustrated."
And flushed, I think. And hot and bothered.
"Mama. Crap," Caleb says.
I look at him sternly and do my best not to sigh in exasperation.
"Hey little man, I'll teach you a new and cool word," Larson says, peering down at Caleb. "But only if you promise to use it instead of that other word. Deal?"
He holds out his hand, and Caleb shakes it very solemnly, suddenly looking 23 instead of not even three years old.
Tackled by the Team Page 99
