“I have something to show you if you have a minute.” He set his coat down knowing full well how much time I had, often better than I did. “I was off to take these to Henry but thought you might want to see them first. I ordered a copy for you too after I saw how nicely they turned out.”
He opened his satchel and took out a manila envelope. “Tell me what you think.”
I took it and opened it up, sliding out a bunch of wedding pictures. No. Not wedding pictures, pictures of Harry and me at the wedding. There was one of us slow dancing, another of us doing the chicken dance, another of us both laughing away, and one of us just leaning together watching I couldn’t even tell you what. They were stunning. Abso-fucking-lutely stunning. The tears forming in my eyes stung. Not that I should have any tears left. I’d spent the past three weeks working, sleeping, wanting to sleep, or crying. Not much else.
“They had a great photographer.” I slid them back into the envelope.
“Those weren’t from the photographer. They were from random relatives. You will be shocked, but my stock is a nosy bunch.” And after the wedding I learned that Enrique wasn’t even close to the worst offender in this. That tidbit had been surprising.
I gasped, holding my hand over my mouth as if stunned. “You don’t say. I never would’ve guessed.”
“Harry hasn’t told me much since the wedding.” Which startled me. How had they all not noticed me rushing out and not returning. Had he covered for me? Of course he had. He was Harry, the kindest, sweetest, most considerate man I knew. He wouldn’t throw me under the bus. Heck, he wouldn’t throw me under a tricycle. That just wasn’t who he was.
“He’s been working a lot.” I only knew this because he’d mentioned the insane month he had ahead of him before the whole wedding debacle. He’d not sent one text, made one phone call, or mailed one email since that night. Neither did you, asshat.
“He always works a lot, kind of like someone else I know.”
“It’s as if the person making the schedule thinks I should do my fair share or something,” I bantered back.
“You know everyone thinks you are the cutest couple and you will be the next wedding we all attend.” Enrique picked up his coat, all smiles, and I broke—I couldn't go on lying to the guy, even if that lie was by omission. He’d always been good to me and deserved better.
“I don’t think that's going to happen.” I closed my eyes, not wanting to see his reaction.
“What’s going on?”
“Is it okay if we don’t talk about it tonight? I’m not ready.” I wasn’t sure I ever would be. I had something amazing, something I never thought I could have, and I blew it by being a dumbass.
“Yeah, we can skip over it.” He set his coat down. “You know what? I’m starving and Tony is out of town. You have an hour to go?”
“Something like that.”
“Then do this old man a favor and come home with me.” He wore a smirk that said he knew exactly how his words sounded and that’s why he said them the way he did.
“That can work as long as you promise not to tell him you have a sexy young side piece.” Enrique’s jaw dropped. “Oh come on. You were trying to mess with me and yet I reverse it on you and you are shocked. Puh-lease.”
“Is that your weird way of saying yes, I would love to come over and eat lots of carbs and watch the new superhero flick with you?”
“Yeah, I guess it is.”
“Excellent. I’m going back to my office and drool as I scroll through menus to decide who we should get our pizza from.”
“And I will be here crossing my fingers it stays slow so I can leave on time to eat said pizza.” The bell rang indicating someone had come in. “Thanks.”
“I haven’t picked the place yet, it could taste like cardboard.” It always did. Every blasted time. Enrique was the epitome of that motivational sign that said if you always do what you’ve always done, you’ll get what you’ve always got...or whatever it was. And he always bought crappy pizza.
“Thanks for not pushing, and it won’t suck if you just order from Gino’s like I tell you every time you have a carb craving.” It was a grand total of two blocks in the wrong direction, but no, he would rather eat cardboard than do that.
“Gino’s it is,” he stated firmly as the nurse came to let me know which room my new patient was in.
Spoiler alert: We had Lou’s Pizza.
Because it was on the way.
Because of course we did.
But true to his unspoken promise, we didn’t talk about Harry or my broken heart, focusing instead on the amazing special effects and the subpar screenplay of the movie. Though I’d probably spill the details to him sooner rather than later.
54
Harry
This was a mistake. I was standing outside the courtroom where my client had been found not guilty. My team and I were headed to a private club to celebrate, courtesy of the client, and I was giddy at our triumph.
But I’d made the mistake of checking my phone. There was a voice message from Uncle Enrique, and I’d opened it. I should have known better. Uncle’s shouty voice boomed out of the device into the corridor bustling with lawyers, paralegals, defendants and their families, and I froze as my uncle gave me a dressing down.
What happened? Richard is so upset. I can’t believe you did this at your cousin’s wedding. Now you have two people angry at you—no, make that three. Him, Darren, and me! You got drunk at the wedding and screwed things up. You’re an idiot, Henry, and you hurt my friend and colleague!
I ducked into a small room and listened to the rest of my uncle's rant. He told me that no matter what happened between us, Richard deserved an apology at the shabby way I’d treated him. And he’d finished with, You may be my favorite nephew, but this is unforgivable.
I bet that damned omega didn’t tell Uncle he’d flipped out when Auntie mentioned marriage. I rested my head on the table and closed my eyes, wishing I would block out the loneliness at not having Richard in my life.
I’d gone over our last conversation countless times and thought of how I could have done it differently. Such as:
Been supportive and told him his reaction was normal.
Not gone after him and let him sort out his emotions in private.
Taken him to my hotel room and put him to bed.
Kissed him and told him to ignore my aunt.
One thing that had occurred to me after he left was he’d been sick earlier in the day, though once at the wedding he’d not shown any signs of being ill. I should have taken that into consideration.
A paralegal stuck his head in the door, “Harry, the stretch limo’s arrived to take us to the club. Come on. You don’t want to miss out.” He was right. We’d worked eighteen-hour days to prepare for this trial, and I was going to celebrate.
Sitting in the limo with my team drinking champagne relieved much of my built-up stress related to work. Not the tension festering inside me to do with Richard. No alcohol would get rid of that. We put on gold paper hats and had party blowers that screeched when we blew them in each other’s faces. God, it felt good to let go and be crazy.
I dismissed Uncle’s bawling out and threw myself into the celebration. By the end of the evening, the club which our client had booked for the victory party was covered in silly string, champagne bottles, empty glasses, and plates of half-eaten food.
My boss, who had arrived late and was one of the few sober people in the room, slapped me on the back. “Well done, Harry. Your hard work paid off.”
As he mingled, I waved goodbye to the others who were now singing karaoke and booked a ride to my place. It was Friday, and I was planning on sleeping until Monday morning.
But after arriving home, showering, and ordering a meal to soak up the alcohol in my system, my thoughts went to Uncle’s message. I owed him an explanation, but it was Richard who should get an apology.
Not that I was intending to grovel. Fuck that! He overreacted. But I had to
own my part in the breakup. Instead of telling Richard how his behavior affected me, I blew up the relationship. And it made me miserable. I welcomed a weekend of sleep, fast food with enough fat to clog my arteries, and binge-watching TV.
But I had to explain why I’d said what I did. I should speak to Richard in person, and I was not going to his place with champagne flowing through my veins. So, I phoned Uncle assuming he was home by now. Friday night was poker night at his place.
He answered on the first ring. “Be quick. I have food in the oven for my poker buddies.” His tone left me in no doubt at how pissed he was. Uncle Enrique was my mentor growing up, and even when I’d fucked up, he’d never given up on me.
“Let me explain,” I told him.
“I’m waiting.”
“Aunt Flora…”
There was a hiss on the other end. “That woman is always sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong.”
I rolled my eyes. “Should I remind you that woman, as you call her, is your sister, Uncle?”
“How could I forget? She was a busybody even when I was a kid.”
Okay, this is an issue for another time. “Anyway… moving on… she mentioned marriage, and Richard freaked out.”
“Not a surprise. She ruined many relationships—most of them mine.”
I have to steer him away from the beef with his older sister. “I’d had enough of Richard keeping me at a distance and being scared of getting too close. And then doing a 360 and being all lovey dovey. It was giving me whiplash.”
“Too much alcohol is more like it.”
This was as difficult as trudging through a sea of molasses. “Uncle, please listen. I felt as though I was the one doing all the work, but the night of the wedding, we’d had such a great time, so when he panicked, I snapped. Particularly as I’d warned him about the family.”
“Well, he’s upset.”
What about me? “So am I.” There was a prolonged silence on the other end. “Uncle?”
“I’m here.” There was another pause. “I’m sorry. I complain about Flora but I do exactly the same thing.”
“You don’t say? You two are exactly alike.”
There was another hiss, and Uncle said, “Enough of that. I shouldn’t have interfered, but you seemed to be getting along so well. And now…”
“You say he’s upset?”
“Why are you surprised? I was the one he chatted to each time you’d been out together. No matter how exhausted or busy he was, his eyes would light up when he talked about you. And now that light’s been shut off.”
My shoulders slumped as I lay on the couch and shoved a cushion over my face. Richard’s scent lingered on the fabric, and my eyes swam with tears as it brought back memories of us lying here watching reality TV and bitching about the contestants. Why is this shit so hard?
Uncle’s words gave me hope that whatever Richard and I had could be rekindled. But we couldn’t go back to the ‘maybe I want to be with you and maybe I don’t’ situation. If he wasn’t prepared to meet me halfway, I’d end whatever we had permanently. “Leave it with me, Uncle. I’ll talk to him.”
55
Richard
I slept until ten, ate some toast, and then went back to bed until three. It was practically a perfect Saturday, the only thing thwarting it from becoming number one was my broken heart, and that had been all my fault. It didn’t help that since my night with Enrique, he felt the need to ask me little questions here and there about my breakup, always catching me off guard. He’d pretty much figured out most of the story, and while I still didn’t want to dissect it with him, in an odd way it felt nice to have the entire thing not sitting on my shoulders.
“Sophia, want to play?” I asked her as I finished putting on my clothes after taking the most leisurely shower. This place might need a bunch of upgrades, but the old owner had spared no expense when purchasing an on-demand hot water heater, and I took full advantage of it on occasion. It was a thing of beauty.
She wagged her tail like it was her job. I’d felt bad working as much as I had lately. I had a “no” problem when it came to work that I either had to learn to accept or fix. Whenever anyone asked me to stay late or come in early or take an extra shift, I did. At first I thought it would give me an edge up, but more and more I was wondering if it made me look more like a doormat, or worse yet, it made me indispensable in the wing I was currently stationed in.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” I grabbed her basket of toys and jogged to the back door with her hot on my heels. “We can play catch, and then if you are a really good dog, maybe we can get you a cheese treat.” She yipped with excitement at the sound of her favorite treat, and I gave her a small one on the way through the kitchen. Originally the vet said the cheese was fine given how underweight she was. I knew I should stop now she was out of the woods, but she loved it so, and if I was willing to put a bacon double cheeseburger in my body, there was no reason for me to give her only healthy food. She had had enough challenges in her life without needing that kind of diet thrust upon her.
Opening the back door, I sucked in a breath full of fresh air. It was a gorgeous day. I bent down and grabbed her favorite cloth bone and threw it as far as I could, which wasn’t very. Probably why she liked it so. She could sometimes catch it midair, and when she did, she pranced around like she was the best dog in the world.
Which she of course was.
“Good girl,” I rubbed her head as I snatched the bone from her and threw it again and again and again until she plopped herself down on my foot.
“Playtime's over, I see.” I put the toy in the basket, picked it up, and walked back inside just as the doorbell echoed through the house.
“You are not the best watch dog.” I shook my head as she tried to fall asleep on my feet—again. “I need to get the door.” She reluctantly rose, scampering after me as I opened the door expecting to see a salesman, a politician, or someone trying to help me find a new religion. The last person I expected to see was Harry, yet there he stood.
“Hi.” Could I be any lamer?
“Uncle said this was your day off.” His hands were in his front pockets.
“Yeah.” So, yes. Yes, apparently I could be lamer.
“He also said I was an ass.” He bit his bottom lip, and I had to force myself not to stare at it. He was so sexy it almost hurt to look at him, a hurt I was willing to feel, but still.
“I was too,” I leaned against the doorframe. “I should have pulled it together enough to get through the night. I thought I managed to get out without too many people noticing. I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.” And I didn’t deserve you.
“He said you were sad and I was drunk and a bunch of other things.” Was he here for Enrique or me? Or maybe something else entirely.
“Why are you here?” It came out ruder than I intended, my purpose simply to figure out what was going on instead of playing the internal guessing game I was currently losing at.
“I...I was so wrong.” He hesitantly stepped forward. “I didn’t listen to your worries or concerns. I didn’t think about the insane pressure you had to have been feeling being there as the best man’s date. I didn’t alpha up and make sure you had what you needed.”
I stood there trying to absorb it all, and from his reaction, my lack of words wasn’t helping.
“I know we were confused; initially there was a time limit, and then we said we’d maybe try it for real, and I wasn’t sure what was happening and which way was up. But then you ran off and that paired with the stress of the wedding—I guess I misunderstood my emotions. Please. Forgive me? I’m prepared to beg.”
“What a freaking disaster.” And it was unfair to have asked him to accept we weren’t serious. It wasn’t his fault I was an on-and-off hot-ass mess. “And I never should have asked you to do that.”
“So, we’re back where we started.” His eyes left mine.
“No. I think we are finally on the same page.”
&
nbsp; “What page is that? Please be specific?” He stepped closer, our bodies only inches apart. “I need to be sure.”
“The page where you kiss me and tell me that yes you take me back and yes you want to be my alpha.”
“That page? I like that page. Refresh me, does it mention anything about what my tongue was doing during this kiss?” His hands came to my waist and my butterflies returned.
“It says you handled it masterfully.” I put my arms around his neck.
“Challenge accepted.” He closed the short distance between us, his lips owning mine.
56
Harry
“Come with me.” I grabbed Richard’s hand and pulled him toward the door.
“Harry, if you’re thinking of food, why don’t we order in—though I’m not particularly hungry. And I’m not in the mood for a drink.”
His big beautiful eyes with flecks of green gazed into mine. He’d lost weight since I’d last seen him. That’s my fault, giving him shit and breaking up.
“It’s not food or beer I’m thinking of. More like fresh air. Consider it a fresh start.”
He frowned. “We’re not going hiking, are we? Not sure I’ve got enough energy for that. I was planning on having a close relationship with my bed this weekend.”
“Me too. But it’ll be two hours tops.”
He hesitated.
“Trust me?“ He had no reason to after my shitty behavior at the wedding. I squeezed his hand gently.
“Okay. But if it’s another wedding,” he pointed to the tracksuit he was wearing, “I don’t meet the dress code.”
My thoughts went to Aunt Flora and Uncle Enrique and their complicated relationship. “You’re fine.” The words ‘Trust me’ almost tripped off my tongue again, but I stopped myself. I had to earn that, not expect it.
Love at Blind Date Complete Series: Books 1-4 Page 20
