Daring the Wild Sparks (41 page)

“I told you I can offer you a female’s perspective.”

“Great. That’s all I need, another female giving me her opinion about
my
opinion of marriage.” I look around the lounge, regretting I agreed to come down here. It’s only making me more pissed off.

“Oh, I wouldn’t do it.”

I abruptly look at her in astonishment. “What? Get married?”

“Yeah—No, I wouldn’t. Not my style.”

Intrigued, I cock my head and doubtfully ask, “Really? I thought all women wanted to get hitched.”

“Not me, that’s for sure. I’d be happy just living with you.” She grins and drinks her pink concoction.

“Well, she has a lot of stipulations before she’ll move in with me. She’s seemingly dropped some, but now she wants time to think.”

“About?”

I sigh and anxiously shift on the bench. “Okay, so you’re a woman.” She consciously smiles while purposely nodding, making me roll my eyes at the ridiculousness of my own question. “Is it that big of a deal to take the Pill?”

She shrugs. “No. I get a shot.”

“Well, I asked my girlfriend to go on it, but she refuses.” I stop talking when our waitress brings me another Jack and I instantly work on getting seriously wasted.

“She still makes you wear…” She regards me with raised eyebrows and an odd look in her eyes.

I swirl the ice in my glass, while peering above Cara’s head, undecided if I should talk about it.

Oh, fuck it.

At least Cara
is listening to me. Maybe she can actually help me understand Becks’ mind. “Yeah. Three years together and I still have to put up with those damn things.”

Her eyes grow large in astonishment. “Whoa. That’s a long time. Don’t you ever want to have kids with her?”

I roll my eyes again and take a sip. “Not you, too. Everyone thinks we need to have a baby. No. I don’t want a kid.”

“She does?”

Scowling, I nod and dourly ask, “Why are women like that? I don’t want to be tied down with a screaming kid and shitty diapers.”

Mindlessly tracing the rim of her glass with her finger, she replies, “I don’t either. Most women do though. It’s one of those biological mysteries.”

I shrug and watch her take a drink. “I guess. I mean, it would be a bond between us, but it sounds like it’d be more of a hassle than anything.” She nods.

As I finish my drink, Cara glances out to the dancing couples and then back at me. “Do you want to dance?”

I laugh and shake my head. “I do not dance.” Only with Becks and
that’s
a stretch.

She scurries out of the booth and stands next to me. “Come on, Finn Wilder. I dare you.”

My smile instantly drops. “Really. I don’t dance.”

“It’s a slow dance. You don’t have to do much.” She yanks on my hand and I reluctantly stand.

As she tows me to the dance floor, I check my phone again, but no missed call. I impatiently shove it into my pocket. “One dance,” I warn her.

Finding a spot, she twirls around and her hands fly up to my biceps, definitely leading since I have no inclination to. “Relax. Look at Finn Wilder dancing. How about that?”

“Yeah. It’s a miracle. Just don’t tell anyone.” I look around the dance floor, wishing I were in Becks’ arms instead of Cara’s. She slides her fingers underneath my short sleeves against my skin and, though it’s not Becks’ touch, along with the alcohol, it does warm me a little.

As I survey the dancers around us, measuring other people’s dance skills compared to my non-existent aptitude, Cara digs her fingers into my arms. “You have some muscles. They can’t be all from your dares. I mean, you did water aerobics with elderly women.”

I shudder at
that
memory. Those women were extremely touchy-feely. I’ve never had my ass pinched so much in my life. One even
accidentally
tried to feel my dick through my swim trunks. “Nobody will ever let me live that down, will they?” That’s one dare
I
won’t be repeating. I’d walk on hot coals first.

Grinning, she says, “Nope.” Cara moves her hands from my arms and puts her fingers into my front pockets, tugging me to her. “You’re a great dancer. You have a lot of rhythm.”

I sagaciously smirk. “That’s what
all
the women tell me.”

She humorously scoffs, “You’re cocky.”

I think I somewhat slur, “Yeah. I’m told I have a lot of that, too.”

She rolls her eyes and I laugh, feeling more relaxed than I was when I came down here.

Lifting my key from my chest, she looks up at me. “What’s this for?”

I pull it out of her hand and tuck it into my shirt. “It was a gift.”

“From Hadley?”

My buzz temporarily leads me into darkness, and the aching in my chest amplifies at hearing her name. “Yeah.”

Offering a small smile at my sudden gloom, Cara puts her hands on my shoulders, slowly moving them to the back of my neck and trailing her fingers up into my hair. For some weird reason, this action sets off more red flags than her hands in my pockets did. Why in the hell is that?

Suddenly feeling alarmed, I quickly drop my hands from her waist, back away and look around as I anxiously run a hand through my hair where Cara’s hand was. “I need to go.”

She looks at me with confusion coating her face more than her makeup. “Why? We’re having a good time.”

Taking a deep breath, I tell her, “It’s late. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” I brush past Cara and pull my phone out of my pocket. One missed call. Becks.
Damn it!
I shakily stop in the hallway at the elevator, punching the button on the wall before I punch the button on my phone to call her, only to get her voicemail. I hang up and instantly redial. No Becks.

Fuck. I need her right now.

The door opens and I step into the empty elevator, irascibly hitting the button for my floor and numbingly watching the door close. Backing up and slumping into the corner against the railing, I shut my eyes, wanting more than anything to be with Becks, holding her close to me, tasting her delicious mouth, inhaling the scent of her floral-scented hair falling around me, and my fingers gliding over her silky skin as I hear her whisper how much she still needs me. How much she’s still in love with me.

Or is that too much to hope for now?

CHAPTER 25

It has been two days and I still haven’t heard a word from Finn; although, Wednesday morning he did send an email to Brandon stating that he wants to meet the team Saturday afternoon. Why so soon? Is this a ploy to see me? Other than not talking to me on the phone, I don’t think he’s going to honor my request to give me some time. I do miss him, so it’ll be hard for me to stay away from him too, but I need to do this so that I get the time I need before I give up everything else to be with him.

I just have to keep reminding myself of that.

Sitting on my bed, hugging my knees to my chest and resting the side of my head against them, I sit and wait for Finn to call me back. It’s 10:33 Thursday night and he was supposed to be home earlier. I know I told him I’d talk to him at night before I go to bed, but I really didn’t think he’d take it this seriously. I had expected he’d be calling me often, yet he hasn’t. No emails either.

Maybe after we talked, he realized how much better off he is without me.

I reach for my phone and call him again. Voicemail. His seductive voice tells me to leave a message, but I don’t. He’ll see I called anyway, if he still cares.

Errant thoughts begin to creep into my head: Is he thinking about cheating on me? Is he alone? Is he having sex with another woman? Did I lose my boyfriend to another woman? Did I push him away because I need time to adjust my wants and to make our love last?

With the myriad of thoughts strangling my heart, I sit back on my bed, gasping for air. He wouldn’t do that to me. I have to believe in him.

Where is he
? Maybe he did stop to see his first love, that stupid bridge, unless he chained himself to it. That’s always a gigantic possibility.

I wait up until 11:48 and try again.

Nothing. I ponder whether to drive over to his place, seeing what he’s up to, but that would fall under the realm of an untrusting girlfriend. I do trust him. I want to. Regardless of my insecurities, I am worried about him.

I turn off my lamp and roll to Finn’s side of the bed, inhaling his faint scent from the pillow, automatically causing tears to spring to my eyes and my heart to agonizingly burn for him.

It’s going to be another long night.

I try to make it through Friday, but it has to be
the
slowest day in history. Every time I check the clock, it seems to be the same time for an hour…every hour. I want Finn to call me, yet at this rate I’ll have to watch
The Wild Side
later to even hear his voice.

Dropping my ink pen on the floor, I duck underneath my desk to retrieve it. “Did you hear from Wilder?” Rod asks, startling me and I inadvertently make a big production of nearly falling out of my chair. “Whoa, there, Hadders. I’m used to women falling at my feet, but
that’s
a little much. Settle down. There’s enough of me to go around.”

“You’re so funny,” I drone, trying to get resituated in my chair.

“So, I take it Wilder
didn’t
call. Or did he, and you confessed your eternal love for me, thus causing him to climb out onto a ledge and you having to talk him down?” He giggles and shoves his hands into his gray pants pockets and bounces in place. “After you rescued him, I hope you didn’t fail to mention that we’re registered at Macy’s.”

I put my elbows on my desk and bury my face into my hands. “Shut up, Rod.”

“What kind of wedding gift would he give us? Maybe bed sheets. Wouldn’t that be odd to give an ex, you used to fuck, sheets to fuck someone else on?” I ignore him as he walks to the window, presumably to survey the cemetery’s current activities. “He could always gift us a crockpot and we could have him at our place for Sunday dinner. That would be 40 tiers of awkward, him sitting across the table as you and I hold hands, tongue wrestling over pot roast. I guess that wouldn’t be as awkward as inviting him to watch you and me screw on the sheets he gave us.”

Collapsing against my chair, I recline my head so I can stare at the ceiling. “Don’t you have Morgan to harass?”

“You said
her ass
.” I roll my eyes while he laughs, and then says, “No, not since slapping me with yet another restraining order.”

“I think I need to look into those.”

“Don’t be petty. Mortgage is in court. Why do you never know anything around here?”

Sighing, I continue to study the white grid above me. “Because you do and you’re always in here, so why bother?”

“True. My office is next to Morticia’s and she always feels the need to tell me where she’s going, like
I
care.” He blows air between his lips in a scoff. “So, what field position will you be vying for tomorrow? I think Wilder already has a special position for you: his personal bat girl. The only duty you have is to polish his bat with your glove.”

Dropping my head down, I glance over my shoulder. “Rod, please tell me there is a point to your visit.”

He turns from the window and grins. “I wanted to cheer you up.”

Blankly staring at him, I unsmilingly deadpan, “Mission accomplished.”

“Come on, Hadders! Smile! At least you’ll see Wilder on TV.”

I twist my ponytail aimlessly on top of my head and nod. “Yes. It’s always better to watch him on TV instead of running my hands through his hair or kissing his lips.”

“That is disgusting. Such filth. Watch your mouth, whore.” Fighting the urge to laugh, I let my hair fall and return to typing information from a police report; though, I’ve now read the same sentence nine times.

Rod takes a seat and starts thumping his fists to a rhythm on my desk. “I could be the pitcher. I have great aim.”

I mutter, “That’s what all the guys say about you.”

His fists stop. “Hey! That’s actually pretty good, Hadders! I should knee you in the balls for saying that, but still.”

I lightly giggle at the computer screen and shrug. “I have my moments.”

“That’s what Wilder’s been telling everybody about your skills in bed.”

I continue typing as he resumes drumming and I say, “Again. Is there a reason for your extended stay here?”

“I already told you. I’m here to spread some merriment and glee.”

“Isn’t that your same stance regarding herpes?”

He slams his hands down onto my desk. “Damn! You are on a roll, woman! Nicely done! See, I’m a good influence. I did make you feel better.”

“That is subjective.”

I hear him dramatically pouting behind me, but then he’s quiet. “Really. Are you doing okay?”

My hands freeze above the keyboard. Slowly, I pivot my seat around to face him. His face is suddenly serious. “No. I’m stuck between curling into a ball and crying like a baby, and running out of here to go see him, even though I’m the one who needs time. If I go to his apartment, he won’t let me think. He’ll either be mad, wanting to fight with me, or he’ll be too happy I’m there, not letting me leave.”

Rod’s face scrunches. “Eww.”

Shaking my head, I worriedly look down at my hands. “Anyway, I don’t know how tomorrow will go when I see him. I want him to respect my wishes and give me some distance, but then again, I want to cave and jump him in the backseat of his car.”

Sticking out his tongue this time, he whines, “Double eww.” I finally smile at his sour expression.

Rod stretches his arms casually above his head, his gold watch glaring in the sunlight, and states breathily, “Well, I’ll be your DB for tomorrow.”

My eyes widen. “DB? I’m afraid to ask.”

He sits back and crosses his ankle over his knee, while drumming his fingers against his thigh. “Designated Boyfriend. I’ll take Wilder’s place at our meeting. I’ll be your guard against his overtures, so he’ll leave you alone.”

I tilt my head and my eyes fall to his Scooby Doo tie. He’s wearing that for the comments I made about his snooping in Crick’s desk. What an ass. “Do you think he’d actually listen to you? And what do you think he’d say if he heard you refer to yourself as my boyfriend?”

His hand falls to his crotch and he cringes. “He’d tear my junk off in one stealth move, I’m sure.”

I point my ink pen at his chest. “Yes, he would, so you need to watch it tomorrow, while watching me, ensuring that I don’t give in and go home with him. Don’t do anything stupid though, Rod. I’m serious. I doubt he’ll be in any mood for your shenanigans.”

He throws his hands up. “I’m pretty sure I know what my job is, Hadders. I’ll even pick you up tomorrow, that way I’ll have to take you home.”

I glance at his gray suede shoe hanging over his knee. “Finn can easily offer to take me home if I don’t drive.”

He devilishly grins. “That’s when you tell him you’re going to hang out at my apartment to play naked Twister.”

I keenly nod. “Yes, and I promise to visit you in the hospital when you’re unconscious and depending on a ventilator to breathe.”

Rod scoffs as he straightens his tie, “Well, be a pal and at least make sure you bring my iPod to play some good tunes for me.”

“Duly noted.”

There’s a swift knock and Amos pokes his bald head into my office. “Hadley, Val in?” Hello to you too, Amos.

“No, she had a meeting with a client.”

“Oh.” Amos’ eyes drift to Rod sitting in the chair. “Rod, why are you always bothering this nice, young lady?”

Rod grins happily, bouncing his knee. “We’re buds!”

I shake my head at Amos. “No, I barely know him.” I hear Rod grumble and I stifle a laugh.

Even if Amos’ rough voice matches his perpetual scowl, I think he’s teasing. “I don’t think she wants to date you, so why don’t you leave her alone?”

Rod tosses his hand agitatedly up in the air toward Amos. “That’s not what I’m doing here!”

Amos nods, his gold hoop earrings bobbing slightly. “Sure, but it might help if you stayed within your league.”

I bite my lip as Rod nearly combusts. “
In my league
?
And you think this chick is
above
me? She couldn’t score a date from a blind, ex-con, circus clown set free after 10 years in solitary confinement!”

I glower. “Thanks!”

He glances at me, offering me a spirited smirk before lashing his head back to Amos. “She has a boyfriend anyway. Don’t you remember she’s dating—?”

I quickly shake my head at Amos, interrupting Rod, “Nobody.” Rod whips his head to me, questioningly discerning my action.

Amos nods his head as he digests that, then shrugging. “Well, no wonder Rod’s always in here then.” He gives Rod a look through squinted eyes. “I actually thought you played for the other team.”

Rod sits straight as a board and pats his chest heatedly, ruffling his Scooby tie.
“Me
? What? Amos, are you serious?” Amos doesn’t respond to that, but knowingly smirks at the both of us before leaving my office.

Rod nearly jumps out of his chair. “What the fuck was that?” he shrieks. “
Amos Vaughn
thinks I’m gay too?”

I grin. “Swing that closet door open and march right out, Rod. We all support you.”

Frustrated, he stomps a foot and throws his hands into his dark hair. “
I’m not gay
!”

My frown returns and I sneer, “And really? A blind, ex-con clown?”

Rod huffs to the window, but turning to give me a probing look and indulgently saying, “Oh, Hadders. I’d still do you.”

I wince and roll my chair back. “What? That’s gross.”

He nods as a sickened expression creeps across his face. “I know. I just about threw up on your desk joking about that.”

Still flinching, I reply, “Not sure if I should be insulted.”

“I was so close to hurling earlier joking about the bed sheets too. Oh, I can taste my breakfast now.” He laughs, but abruptly stops. “Hold on. Why’d you tell Amos that you’re single?”

“Because if he doesn’t remember, then I’m not going to remind everyone else that I’m dating our…coach.”