Ninety-Eight (Contemporary Romance) Read online

  “Oh my God, you aren’t going to make me say it, are you?”

  He lifted his eyebrows, mouth serious.

  Unable to stop the smile teasing my lips, I said, “Yes, Darwin of whose last name I know not, newest friend and king of the roads. You just gave me the ride of my life.”

  “Alexander.”

  “What?”

  “My last name is Alexander. Although it sounds like it could be King Alexander now.”

  I smacked him in the arm, “Smart ass.”

  The coffee shop he chose was not one of those franchised shops, but a mom and pop café. They had homemade donuts and fresh ground coffee, the smells of pastry and coffee filling the air around the shop before we ever stepped inside.

  Coffees and donuts in hand, we found a table with ease, the rush of breakfast over and the rush of lunch not yet begun. Actually, the cafe was remarkably quiet, considering how good it smelled and how reasonable the prices were. Even I could afford to come here, and I marked it in my mind to make this a regular stop.

  I sipped at my drink, the warmth sliding down my throat, and I forced myself to ask the question that was burning at me. “How long have you been married?”

  He took a bite of powdered donut and chewed thoughtfully for a moment. I couldn’t help poking at him. “What, you don’t remember?”

  “Ten years. Married right out of high school.” His eyes dulled a little, or at least I thought they did. Maybe it was just my imagination. Yes, that had to be it.

  “Childhood sweethearts?”

  His jaw ticked. “Something like that.”

  Apparently, this was not a subject he wanted to discuss. But he leaned forward, eyes snaring mine. “Why are you marrying a guy you don’t really love?”

  His question shocked me and I pulled back in my chair. “I do love Vic. He’s a good guy.”

  “Not from what I saw. Who leaves his fiancé alone in the hospital when she’s been hurt? That’s bullshit, no matter how busy you are at work. He’s an ass.”

  “Don’t. Darwin, just don’t. He came for me later. And he took me back to the hospital that night, held my hair back while I puked my guts out, something not many people would do.” I lowered my coffee, the shaking in my fingers too noticeable while holding the cup. I didn’t like how his words echoed my own traitorous thoughts.

  “Just …” He paused, his eyes never leaving mine. “Just be sure. That’s all.”

  My hands shook in my lap, where he couldn’t see them. “Friendly advice?”

  He nodded slowly, took another bite of his donut. “Exactly. Take if from someone who knows.”

  His words were weighted and I felt the crush of them over my own heart.

  We changed topics, talked about our families, his siblings, my lack thereof. How he wanted to go back to school and maybe get his degree in medicine, how he’d sent in applications and was waiting now to hear back if he’d made it into any of the schools. About how neither of us had ever rebelled.

  “You don’t even have a tattoo?” My eyebrows climbed in tandem.

  “Nope, no tats, no piercings. My parents would die on the spot if I ever showed up with one. Never mind what my wife would think. Hell, she’d flip out if she knew I was eating donuts.”

  Laughing, I leaned back in my chair. “You aren’t allowed to eat donuts?”

  He shrugged. “She’s a bit of a health nut. To the point of cutting out all sugar in the house.”

  I made a face. “God, I couldn’t live without sugar. Some days, that’s the only thing worth living for.”

  The laughter and the words flowed between us, an easy balance of serious and light that I couldn’t get enough of. Every time the topic of his wife came up he changed the subject, and I never brought up Frank or his treatment of me. I didn’t think I could stand having Darwin not believe me.

  “Favorite food you never eat.” He eyed up the last half of my chocolate donut. Smiling, I pushed it over to him.

  “I love calamari.” I leaned back in my chair. “Victor hates it, says it tastes like rubber.”

  Darwin chuckled and shook his head, eyes flashing with mirth. “Obviously, he’s never had good calamari. Then again, my wife doesn’t much like it either.” Again, with the simple mention of his spouse I would have sworn his eyes dulled, losing that spark of life that I couldn’t seem to get enough of. But maybe I was just seeing things, or seeing things I wanted to see.

  He ordered a couple more donuts and I shook out the last of my change. “That’s it, I’m tapped out. You want more donuts you’re going to have to buy them yourself,” I said as he sat back down with two more of the pastries on his plate.

  “You’re nana sounds like a firecracker.” Darwin was on his fourth donut and I was beginning to realize I’d definitely been taken on our bet.

  “Yeah, she had her own way of doing things. I think maybe … .” I took a deep breath, my thoughts not something I’d shared with anyone else.

  “What?”

  I shrugged. “I think maybe she was hurt badly by the men in her life, not her family, but a man that she loved. She just … couldn’t stand to think of anyone she loved being hurt like she’d been. The way she talked about her past, her views on love and marriage … I think that’s why she gave me the advice she did. And it didn’t help me seeing my mother’s choices.” I bit down on my lip, hoping he didn’t catch onto that tidbit.

  “You miss her, your nana, still.” He didn’t ask, he knew without me saying it.

  I nodded, and then smiled to chase away the tears that tickled at the corner of my eyes. I cleared my throat and bit at my bottom lip before asking, “Have you ever lost someone?”

  He nodded, his eyes softening with a long past pain I recognized all too well. “My sister when I was fifteen, we were nine months apart, Irish twins. She was my best friend, we did everything together.”

  “Oh god, Darwin. What happened?”

  His smile was tired, worn around the edges as he answered me. “She struggled with depression from the time she was twelve. She overdosed on pills when her boyfriend broke up with her because he fell into bed with her best friend.”

  I reached across and put my hand over his, our shared grief twinning about us. My heart ached for him, for the young Darwin that had known such a keen loss at such a young age. We both pulled our hands away at the same time; the echoes of the past in the air between us were not lost on me.

  Again, he seemed to know when to switch the topic.

  “Aren’t you going to ask me who I’m married to?” A definite twinkle darted through his eyes, like a magician about to pull off an amazing trick I wouldn’t see coming. A veritable Houdini.

  I rolled my eyes and took a sip of coffee. “How could I possibly know? You said you just moved here, and I’ve lived around here all my life.” Not quite true with my time at boarding school, but close.

  “She’s from around here, though she went to a private school. I think you would love her. You did say earlier you didn’t have many friends.” His words said one thing, but his tone said the opposite.

  I arched an eyebrow. “Really? Are you going to introduce us?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to meet her—what if she was amazing and we became friends? Then I would have to be around Darwin all the time, seeing him with someone else. No, I wasn’t ready for that.

  Stupid girl. Yeah, I was being stupid.

  “You’ve already met her. Rather recently, in fact.” His blue violet eyes laughed at me, even though his mouth was serious.

  “Recently?”

  “Same day you met me.”

  If there had been a light bulb above my head it would have shattered, covering the coffee shop with shards of glass with the revelation. And I couldn’t stop the reaction I had.

  “FIONA?”

  Laughing, he nodded. “Why are you so surprised?”

  All I could think about was how not suited they were, her flaky reactions, his calm cool demeanor under pressure. And then I remembered how badl
y I’d spoken about her.

  “I … oh my God, I’m so sorry.” Embarrassment suffused me and I was quite sure that my cheeks lit up like lights on a Christmas tree. I covered my mouth with my hand, as if I could take back the things I’d said.

  “Why are you apologizing?”

  “Because … .” God, I couldn’t tell him what I really thought about her. I wracked my brain, had I said anything really nasty? That day was fuzzy now, and I couldn’t quite recall the words. Maybe I could brush it off … .

  “For thanking me for shutting the door on her ‘insufferable voice’? For calling her an idiot horse handler?”

  I groaned and lowered my head to the table, shaking one finger at the ceiling. “Yeah, kinda like that.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ve said similar things, and she’s my wife.”

  I lifted my head, feeling the quicksand under this conversation. Dangerous, this was very dangerous territory. It was my turn to change the subject, before we got into a Fiona bashing party that could only go in one direction.

  “I think I’m completely stuffed with donuts,” I said, pointing at the empty plate.

  “Changing the subject?”

  I fought the smile my lips wanted to give him. “Yes. I think it’s time to go, Darwin Alexander.”

  “Well, Brielle McGraw, I have only one question for you.”

  My heart jumped, jumped in my chest and every traitorous emotion that had worked its way through my body, and I’d fought at every turn came rushing back through me.

  Forcing my tone to stay remarkably calm, I pulled myself together enough to respond. “And that is?”

  He reached across the table, his fingers brushing lightly against mine before pulling back. “When are we going for donuts and coffee again? I think now that I’ve recalled what sugar does to me, I want more of it.”

  Was it really sugar he wanted more of, or something else? His eyes never left mine and the air in my lungs grew hot from holding my breath. I knew what I should say. That we wouldn’t be seeing each other again, that this was it, no more visits, no more tangling of what I knew I should do, and what I wanted.

  Darwin could be my friend, that was all I would ever get and I wasn’t willing to give that up. Not for all the heartbreak in the world. Nana was right, there were no happy endings, but maybe I could have a few moments of make believe. For a little while.

  For the first time, maybe ever, I threw the ‘good girl’ rules out the window.

  “How about Tuesday?”

  5

  TUESDAY COULDN’T COME fast enough.

  “Hey, Baby. I thought we could go away this weekend. Just you and me, maybe we could go into Louisville for a couple of nights. Maybe go to the spa?” His brown eyes were hopeful and I smiled at him, but knew I couldn’t afford it. Even though we lived together, and were engaged now, we still split the bills down the middle.

  “Sorry, Vic. I can’t.”

  He frowned, putting on a serious pout for me. “Why not? I thought it would be fun. I thought you’d like to go and get a massage, or a pedicure or something.”

  I shook my head. “You know why. I’ve lost days of work, and I can’t afford to go away. If you want to go to get away from work for a few days, that’s fine by me.”

  Snorting, he walked away from me. “You want me to go by myself?”

  “I’m just saying that if you need to get away, take a break, I’m not going to be hurt if you go by yourself.” Which I knew was weird. Penny’s last boyfriend had told her he was going on a trip by himself and she’d asked to go. He said no and they’d broken up over it. But I trusted Vic. He was a good guy. Besides, I was telling him straight up I couldn’t afford it, and he wasn’t offering to pay. Not that I’d expected him to.

  “Are you sure?”

  I squeezed his shoulder as I walked by, heading to the bedroom. “Of course. Go have fun. Take your brother with you and make it a guy’s weekend.”

  Without warning, he scooped me up from behind and carried me into the bedroom, out of breath by the time we got there.

  “Then I guess I’ll just have to get my loving in now, if I’m going away with the boys.” He nuzzled my neck, and I took a deep breath, feeling my pulse dull and my interest wane in seconds. I’d had ex’s who’d gotten me all hot and bothered, but there was no safety, no feeling of belonging, just a sense of never having their hearts. Victor was on the other end of the scale, safe and predictable, but no passion.

  His hands and mouth roved and my mind wandered. I stared at the ceiling, made the appropriate noises, lifted my hips when required to, touched him where I knew he liked to be touched. Nothing sparked my interest though, nothing truly made my heart race. Routine, by rote, I knew Vic’s moves, knew that he wouldn’t touch me where I wanted to be touched. Not even when I’d asked. So I didn’t ask anymore. What was the point?

  Of course, this was one of the largest deductions off Victor’s scorecard. At least 15% came off for this issue. Then again, Nana had always said that sex wasn’t the be-all-end all in a marriage. And I had to agree with her. This was hardly what I’d call the ride of my life. My thoughts shot to Darwin and the way his eyes sparkled as he laughed, the flex of his muscles through his shirt as he’d teased me, how he’d asked if I wanted him to give me the ride of my life.

  “Do you wanna bet?”

  A groan slipped out of me and I clutched at Vic, letting the sensations flow over me, imagining someone else above me, imagining things that could never be. Heat curled up through me, and I arched my back, my fingers digging into his shoulders.

  “You like that, Baby?”

  His words almost stole my fantasy from me, but the build up of pressure that had started between my legs wouldn’t be denied, and I thought maybe this time would be different … but two more quick thrusts and Victor was done, leaving me stunned—not in a good way either.

  He rolled off me, panting, his hand reached out to grasp my hip. “Baby, you are so amazing; I’m going to miss you this weekend.”

  I blinked several times, disappointment coursing through me, the ache in my body completely irritated by the lack of fulfillment. Damn.

  “Thanks, you weren’t half bad yourself.” The words were what he expected, what he wanted to hear. Rolling out of bed, I stood and walked to the bathroom. I ran the cold water and splashed it over my face, hanging my head over the sink. The droplets of water merged with unexpected tears that slid down my face and dripped into the sink.

  A hollow ache started at the back of my throat, worked its way down my spine and settled in my heart. Dull and throbbing, the tears wouldn’t stop and I didn’t know why. This was so silly. Making love with the man I was going to marry should leave me feeling suffused with joy, languorous and at peace. Making love to him and thinking about another man shouldn’t have even happened, it shouldn’t have given me the first taste of desire that I’d had in my whole relationship.

  Yet, here I was, crying over the sink for a hurt that I couldn’t pinpoint the cause of. Or maybe, didn’t want to pinpoint the cause of.

  Yes, that was closer to the truth.

  Stupid girl.

  Wiping my face, I swallowed the hurt and the tears and went back to bed. Victor’s arms circled around me from behind, tucking our bodies together.

  “Goodnight, Baby.”

  “Goodnight, Vic.” His breathing eased within minutes, at peace, content.

  I lay there with him, wide awake, tears streaming down my face in silent rivers to soak the pillow below my cheek, the night dragging as my heart and body ached for things that could never be.

  “Oh, honey, you’ve got cold feet. That’s normal.” My mom—Celia, now that I was older—waved her hand at me, brushing me off.

  “Really?” I broke open a bran muffin she sat in front of me, still hot from the oven. I slathered it in butter.

  “No, no, not so much butter. We’re going to do your dress fitting today; you don’t want to have the seams pop, do you?”
Celia gave me her best ‘do what I say because I know what’s best for you’ eyes. I dutifully scraped the butter off my muffin and onto a napkin. She forgot that she hadn’t really raised me. Between her business starting up, my father’s death, and her marriage to Frank, I’d spent whatever days I was home from school with my nana. Nana’s stories were what I grew up hearing; it was Nana that I went to for comfort. Not Celia. God, I missed the crotchety old lady who had wiped away my tears and put Band-Aids on my scraped knees. I spun the ring on my thumb, the warm metal a constant reminder of her.

  I bit into the muffin. “Maybe you’re right. Cold feet would make sense.” But I knew she was wrong; there just wasn’t any point in arguing with her. At least Frank was at work—I wasn’t sure I could keep a civil tongue around him, not today.

  That was pretty much the end of Celia’s attempt to convince me that this empty hollow spot, this fear that was building in my body day by day, was just silly. That I should just ignore it and get excited.

  She rattled off a list of things that we had to go over for the wedding. Flowers, music, the dress fittings, the final check on the guest list. Being a wedding coordinator, she was in her glory, and I let her have her way. I’d spoken true when I’d told Darwin that Celia had picked the colors, the music, and the flowers. The only thing she hadn’t picked was the dress.

  Which, of course, meant she hated the one I’d chosen.

  As we were getting ready to leave, her cell phone rang. She raised a finger to me. “This won’t take but a minute. Then we’ll be off for your fitting and maybe I can convince you not to take that god-awful dress and instead purchase something more suitable.”

  Lips pursed, I bit back the snotty reply that swelled in my mouth. Nope, I was not going there, not today. I would not let her drag me into a battle.

  Celia headed to her the kitchen, chattering away, and then let out a gasp.

  Oh, here we go.

  She rushed back to me, her blue eyes wide. “Darling, I can’t come with you to your fitting. I have an emergency at the florists that I just can’t let go. They brought in the wrong flowers for Missy’s wedding, which is in two days.”