by Cecy Robson
“It was a rough night,” she says, thinking out loud. “Lots of goodbyes we weren’t ready for. It played on our emotions and damaged us a little on the inside. For you to say you were going to make love, well, how could it have been anything else? Both of you needed healing and sought it through intimacy.”
“I wasn’t thinking about healing anything,” I confess. “I just wanted him. I still do.”
“I’m not saying you weren’t physically ready to connect,” Trin adds. “But I am saying there was an emotional component that was missing that would have tainted the experience. That night, we were all about growing up for good and moving on forever. None of us were sure we’d keep in touch. Even as well as we’ve remained friends, it hasn’t been like we originally planned.”
“We were all supposed to buy houses next to each other,” I say, thinking back to the promise we’d made when we were little. “Our houses were going to be right next to each other. In the center. Hale, Mason, and Sean would be on either side of us.”
“So they could watch over us,” Trin finishes for me.
“Yes,” I agree. “Or maybe so we could keep them out of trouble.”
She laughs, the sad, quiet laugh that tender memories like these bring. “It’s been hard having my babies grow up with everyone so far away. But, in a way, we’ve all benefited from the distance.”
“How so?” I ask, knowing how much the friendship between the five of us changed when we moved away.
“Becks, as much as I hated that we all went our separate ways, everything I experienced prepared me to be a better wife and mother . . . just like all you and Hale went through together and apart prepared you for each other.”
There’s no gentle teasing to her voice. She’s being honest and telling me what I need to hear.
“You think we’re ready for each other now?”
“I hope so, Becks. You want to be there for him and prove your friendship, and make up for the years lost between you? I can’t think of a better time than now. Hale needs you.”
“I know,” I agree quietly. “I wasn’t sure we’d ever happen.”
“Are you serious? Becca, I’ve seen how Hale looks at you. We all have. Those eyes he gives you are that of a man who never forgot you.”
My eyes tear. “I hope so.”
“I hope so, too,” she says. “That emotional component that was missing so long ago? It’s not missing any longer. I just hope you and Hale are finally ready for it.”
Chapter Thirteen
Hale
“Y’all want some chicken?” Both dogs wag their tails at me as I stand by the fridge. They say dogs can’t understand much past their names and a few simple commands, but I’ve never met a dog who didn’t perk up at the word chicken.
I reach for the first of three rotisserie chickens Trin left in the fridge. I’m not certain how much that woman thinks I eat, but if the zombie apocalypse hits, I’m throwing the zombies a few of these fuckers.
I shred the chicken with my hands and pop it into two bowls. I look up when I hear Becca yelling from the bedroom. She’s all worked up. I heard her on the phone earlier with Trin. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but I recognized that voice she always gets when she talks to her. It’s a comfortable tone, safe, like when you know you’re in a good place.
It’s not the voice she’s using now. Her phone rang as I was headed into the kitchen. I think it was roughly two point five seconds before the yelling began.
I wash my hands, wondering a little too hard about who has her so riled. I liked her talking to Trin. They must have discussed me and Becks at length. Women do that. It put me in a damn fine mood until the screaming began.
I dry off my hands when my phone rings. “You all right?” Sean asks.
I peer in the direction of the guest suite. “Yeah. Made out with Becca naked.”
“It’s about damn time,” he says. “Later.”
“Later, Sean.”
Yeah. Becca and Trin probably analyzed every last detail of our kiss. What it meant. What it’ll lead to. Me and Sean? I grin. We just got right to it, didn’t we?
“You will not tell me what to do, ever,” Becca shouts. “I don’t belong to you, you little bitch!”
She throws open the door, startling when she sees me watching her. “Oh, hey,” she says, fluffing her hair.
“Problem?” I ask.
She glares at her phone when it buzzes and shuts it off. She clears her throat, walking toward me with her head high and about the best “fuck life” strut I’ve ever seen. “Just taking care of a few things at work.”
“Oh, all right,” I say, not believing one damn word. “You hungry?”
She does a double-take when she sees the cheese plate I created. Brie, goat cheese, parmesan, big circle of Vermont white cheddar, and a multitude of little crackers. Don’t be too impressed. Trin bought it. All I did was transfer it to a cutting board.
“I’m impressed,” she says.
“You should be.” I give her a wink. “I have mad skills, woman.”
She covers her mouth, laughing, but doesn’t quite conceal that blush.
“Let’s go outside. It’s a beautiful day.” I frown when she hesitates. “What’s wrong?”
“I’d like to go outside with you.” She places her phone on the counter. “But I can’t stay. There are a few issues I’m dealing with that require my immediate attention.”
“All right,” I walk toward the terrace, unsure if she’ll follow. She does, which gives me hope, at least a little.
The lovesick puppies hurry behind her. Can’t blame them. I’d do the same.
I take a seat in front of the fire pit, debating whether or not to start a fire. The wind is strong enough to lift Becca’s hair off her shoulders, but the sun is winning the fight in terms of warmth.
“I can’t stay long,” Becca says when she sees me eye the stack of wood.
“So, you said.” I pop a slice of cheddar and a cracker in my mouth, narrowing my eyes when the dogs get a little close to the food. “Don’t even think about it,” I tell them.
The moppy dog immediately lays down. The little one with the barrettes just sits. I’m guessing she’s the brains behind Operation Let’s Steal the Cheese, but it’s just a guess.
“Where did you get these mutts, anyway?” I ask.
“The shelter,” Becca says. She takes a seat beside me, appearing sad. “Miss Silvie started a program with them. She takes the calmer and more manageable dogs to the nursing home every Tuesday to interact with the elderly residents. It keeps up their spirits.”
“The seniors or the dogs?” I ask.
“Likely both,” she says, smiling. “These were the two she recommended for the shoot.”
I toss a cracker in the air. The moppy one catches it, just barely out of reach of the little one. “Why?” I ask. “Out of what has to be a wide selection of dogs, what made her suggest this mismatched pair?”
“According to Miss Silvie, they’ve had it the hardest and need the most love.”
Well, doesn’t that say it all?
The little one pops onto Becca’s lap when she makes a kissy sound. Damn lucky dog. I’d do the same if Becca puckered up. She laughs, cuddling the dog and stroking her head. “I wasn’t ready for a dog, but I don’t see how I’m going to let this little princess go.”
“She likes you,” I point out when she wags her tail. “Can’t really blame her.”
Becca blinks back at me, smiling, but not quite in the way that covers her sadness. “What kind of dog is it?” I ask, trying to distract her.
“Part Maltese, part poodle, and likely part Cavalier. The volunteers at the shelter aren’t entirely sure. The big dog, they think, is a Golden Retriever and Saint Bernard mix. There’s also standard poodle in there.
Moppy rests his head on my lap. “I can see the Golden in him for sure, and the Bernard because he’s a big guy. But you lost me on the poodle. Where did t
hey get that?”
“He doesn’t shed,” Becca says, leaning in to stroke his ears. “But he is due for a haircut, poor thing.”
Moppy thumps his tail at Becca’s soft tone. “What happened to them?” I ask.
“What didn’t happen to them?” she says, making a face. “Both had mange and were starving when they were found near Bowman. They had to pull buck shot out of Twinkles’ hide.”
“Jesus,” I say, scanning the length of the big furry bag of fluff. Whoever shot him couldn’t have mistaken him for a wolf or coyote. But whoever did it is an asshole. “I can’t fathom that shit.”
“I know,” Becca says. “People can be so cruel.”
The dog looks up at me, his eyes twinkling. I suppose that’s how he earned his name. He wags his tail harder when I smile at him. He knows I like him. “You said they were found together?”
“Yes,” Becca says, her voice quieting. “They were always seen together, but the rescue doesn’t seem to think they were from the same home. Twinkles was worse off, like he’d been exposed to the elements for a lot longer. Anarchy was slightly better nourished. The townsfolk said they’d see the big one feeding the little one.” She shrugs. “They seemed to have found each other when they needed each other most.”
I take a chance. “Kind of like us?” I ask.
Becca’s smile is warmer. The kind I most love on her. “Yes, kind of like us.”
“I’m keeping the dog,” I say.
“What?” she asks.
“You heard me,” I tell her. “He likes me. His name shall be Sam.”
“Sam?”
“Why does that shock you? Sparkly eyes or not, no dog of mine is going to be named Twinkles.”
She looks from me to Sam, unsure if I’m messing with her. “Hale, this is a lot of responsibility.”
“I know. But I’ve wanted one for more years than I can count. Besides, he likes me just fine.” I grin. “You think Miss Silvie will put in a good word for me?”
“She will, but . . .” Becca glances out to the ocean. “Are you sure, Hale? This is a good place to have a dog. But what’s going to happen when you go back to New York?”
“I’ll take him with me.” I mean what I say. “I was playing with him on the beach during the shoot. Throwing a stick, that sort of thing. He likes to run. I do, too. My place is big enough. It should work out just fine.”
I motion to the prissy dog. “What about that one?”
Becca cuddles her closer, growing protective. “What about her?”
“You think you’ll keep her?”
She considers the question, glancing back at Sam. “I don’t think we should separate them.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Where are you going?”
“To Charlotte,” she says. “I’ll be gone a few days, settling some things that need settling.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I say. “I was referring to you and me.”
“Are you talking about our kiss?” she asks, her attention on the dog’s head.
She’s feeling shy. I’m not. “You mean the hot one we had in bed naked?” I turn around as if I can see the bedroom and hook a thumb. “That one in there, when we were feeling each other up.”
She covers her face. “We didn’t feel each other up.”
“But we wanted to. Didn’t we?”
The wind picks up, sweeping her hair to the side and away from her face. When it settles, I don’t think her hair could lie across her shoulders like it does any better had I’d touched it myself. A gull caws overhead, peering across the dunes as if it sees something it likes. Another caw, and then another gull appears. It joins the first as they dive down into the sand.
It takes the wind sweeping in again before Becca answers me. “I wasn’t expecting this,” she says.
“You think I was?” I ask. “It’s only been a month since you fluttered back into my life, waving your arms and pelting me with glitter.”
“I didn’t flutter,” she says, grinning.
“Strut?”
She laughs. “Maybe. But there was definitely no glitter. That’s a Trin thing to do.”
“All right. Let me clarify. It’s only been a month since you strutted into my life, swinging your hips just so and tempting me closer until I gave in to you and your nymph-like charm, and kissed you hard like you wanted and deserved.” I smirk at her gaping mouth. “There. Was that better?”
“I didn’t strut . . . much.”
“Yeah, you did,” I say. “You have ever since you learned to walk in dem heels.”
“And I don’t have nymph-like charm,” she protests.
I throw my head back, laughing. “No, you don’t. You come across as fine and sweet as sugar until you open your mouth and cuss viciously enough to send a drunken sailor staggering off and screaming.”
“That’s better,” she says, seemingly satisfied.
My smirk fades, just a little. “Except when it came to me. In there,” I say jerking my head in the direction of the house. “You’ve always had this hold on me, Becks. But I don’t really think you’ve understood just how bad.”
“I might understand,” she says gently.
The way her gaze meets mine erases what remains of my smirk. This woman has me where she wants me, but she always has. After all these years, I still don’t think she knows just how easily I gave her my heart.
“Hale . . . I have to tell you something.” She adjusts her hold on her pup and reaches for a cracker. She tries to take a bite, but thinks better of it, offers it to the dog instead. “It’s about Denver. Mr. Singleton’s son.”
I’ll give Becca this, she’s always delivered a good kick to the balls. “You’re still with him.” I huff, a bitter grin cutting into my skin. I rub my jaw. “You let me kiss you like that and you’re with some other man?”
She smiles. Smiles. What the fuck?
“I was never with him. That’s the part you don’t understand.” She looks down, appearing sad. It takes me a second to realize it’s not so much sadness she feels, but rather shame. “I’ve had to do a lot for the Cougars. Most of it has been positive. But there are some things I’ve done I never would have entertained before.”
“Like Denver?”
Hurt reflects in her irises, making me want to kick my own ass, regardless of how hurt I am in return. “Sorry. I should have guessed he was something special if you planned on marrying him.”
“I never loved him, Hale,” she says. “I never slept with him. I’ve barely stomached his kisses.”
I frown, a mix of confusion and fury building in my gut. “Then why were you engaged to him?” She dips her chin, focusing more on the dog than I wish she would. “Becca, please look at me.” It takes her a moment, but she does. “Why were you engaged to him?”
“He was in trouble, Hale. Lots of it. I can’t go into too many details. I’m already violating my contract as is.”
“Your contract?” I repeat, hardly believe what I’m hearing.
“It’s an NDA, a non-disclosure agreement,” she explains. “The Cougars were messed up when I first took over. They continued to screw up until I convinced the owner, Mr. Singleton, to make some serious changes.”
She smiles down at the little pup when it starts to fall asleep on her lap. “The more I had to do to alter the team’s reputation, the more I appeared in the public eye. The way the fans, commentators, and athletes took to me was a blessing. They liked me, and I became as much of a prominent member as their best players. It pleased Mr. Singleton in all the wrong ways. Denver was his only son, but lots of trouble. He did a lot of really bad things, soiling the new team’s good name. Mr. Singleton thought Denver needed a good woman at his side. Someone the public adored and trusted.”
“Someone like you?” I offer.
She sighs. “I didn’t want to do it and flat out refused. I did some research and found an actress willing to pose with him and play fiancé
e for very large sum. Everyone was on board except Denver. He told his Daddy he wanted me and wouldn’t pretend for anyone else.”
“Nice.” Sam drops a large paw on my knee. He feels my pain. This arrangement is about as fucked up as it sounds.
“Don’t be mad, Hale. I’m not proud of what I did.”
“I’m not mad. At you.” I let out a breath. “Okay, maybe I am a little. I just don’t see how you’d agree to something as sleazy as this.”
“I saw it as part of my job and nothing else, but . . .” She adjusts her position, her hand never leaving her small companion. “You have to understand, Hale. My job became my life. I wasn’t dating. There was no one in my life except for Trin, who’s four hours away. So, instead of pouring myself into a glass and swallowing my misery, I poured myself into my work.”
I hold out a hand, interrupting her. “Wait. I saw how all those players were panting after you. How close they stood and how much closer they wanted to be. You trying to tell me you never dated them?”
She raises her brow, a flicker of amusement dancing across her features. “I’m not telling you they didn’t try. But I wasn’t interested in more drama. I was trying to fix it.”
“Then why Denver?”
“I told you. He was something to fix. Another part of my job that I needed to take care of.” She shrugs. “We posed for kisses in front of the camera. We held hands and were seen at important events. But the moment we left the ‘stage,’ as I called it, I kept my distance from him.”
“Did he keep his distance?” I ask. I’m not trying to be a dick. I’m just saying Becca is beautiful and damn near impossible to resist.
“No,” she says. “He expected a lot more than a simple arrangement and had a hard time taking no for an answer.” She makes a face. “That was him on the phone. For someone I never really belonged with, he certainly thinks I belonged to him.”
If he was here, I’d break him in half. “I’m happy to talk to him and let him know that’s not true.”
“I’m sure you would, Hale, but this is not what either of us needs. We were supposed to be engaged a lot longer than we were, but then—” She curses under her breath. “This is more than I should be telling you.”
