Finding the Right Girl (A Nice GUY to Love spin-off) (10 page)

BOOK: Finding the Right Girl (A Nice GUY to Love spin-off)
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Not one call or text all week.

She felt like an idiot.

Clearly, he was rethinking things between them. And the thought of that filled Tessa with a bone-deep feeling of loss, which was ridiculous really because he hadn’t even been hers to lose.

Not hers to lose.

She repeated that mantra to herself as she picked up her ringing landline.

“Hello?”

“Tessa?”

She sighed. Still not hers to lose. “Hey Abby.”

“Tessa, I promise I’m not playing cupid again. I really do need you to do me a favor if you can. Brian and I usually spend this day together every year. Doing nothing. It’s a long story. And one that’s not mine to tell. But I’m not feeling well and I don’t want him to be alone today. Do you think you could go over in my place?”

“I really don’t think—”

“Please Tessa, I swear I don’t have any ulterior motives here. I’ve never left Brian alone on this day for years. And you’re the only one who I think will understand.”

What if he doesn’t want me to understand?

But she was wavering; Abby sounded so broken up about it. What could have possibly happened on such a specific day? She knew Beth hadn’t died in the Spring and unless Brian had some severe phobia of leprechauns, she didn’t know what terrible thing could be plaguing him on March 17
th
.

“Why don’t you ask Connor?”

“Because I think Brian would want to see you. In fact, I know he would. Now that I think about it, even if I weren’t feeling under the weather, I’d still think you’d be the best person for this today.”

So cryptic. “Okay, I’ll be there.”

 

 

 

B
RIAN GLANCED
at the clock and went over to answer the door, reaching over to snag the phone along the way. He’d meant to call in the pizza order before Abby arrived but somehow, he’d lost track of time. Seemed his mind was more distracted than usual today. But not with the usual distractions.

“Tessa.”

He opened the door wider. And Tessa pushed through with a determined stride and a take-no-prisoners gait that was almost domineering enough to cover up the unsure set of her jaw.

Dammit, she was so freakin’
cute
.

“Tessa, what are you doing here?”

“Abby sent me.”

For chrissakes, when did his best friend become such a meddler?

“She promised she’s not playing matchmaker this time,” interjected Tessa quickly. “She’s not feeling well.”

Now Brian was concerned. “Is she okay? Is my brother home with her?”

“Yes, and yes. Abby said she’s just been exhausted with her long work hours. Connor is apparently at home force-feeding her chicken soup and subjecting her to endless fussing. But she promised she’d call you tomorrow.”

Tessa grabbed the throw pillow, plopped on the couch and looked up at him expectantly, concern written all over her face. “So, do you want to tell me why Abby thinks I’m the best person to spend St. Patrick’s Day with you? You don’t have to tell me. But she seems to think I’d understand what you’re going through.”

He thought about that for a moment and shook his head. “I’m not sure you would. You didn’t put your sister in a care home, did you? I remember Connor saying something about that once.”

A sad look of understanding clouded over her face. “No,” she said quietly. “I didn’t. I couldn’t bear to leave her there alone.”

That pierced him in the gut like a dull, serrated blade.

“Oh, Brian, I didn’t mean—”

“No, it’s okay. I did what I knew was best for Beth and Skylar. I couldn’t be there to watch Beth all the time because I had to work. The care home took care of her in ways I couldn’t.”

“March 17
th
was the day I admitted her. I remember it distinctly. And sadly, so did she.”

“Her dementia hadn’t set in yet?”

“It came in waves. But that day, she was definitely lucid.” And just like it always did, remembering the look on Beth’s face when he left the care home that day—without her—hit him like a punch to his gut, served as a reminder that he’d failed to love and honor his wife in sickness and in health.

“I think Willow would’ve wanted to be put in a home.”

Stunned, Brian looked over to see if she was just trying to make him feel better.

Apparently not, because frankly, Tessa looked a little astonished herself. “I’ve never said that out loud before. But it’s true. I think toward the end, before her memory started going, she actually did want to be put in a home. She tried to tell me once but I wouldn’t hear of it.” She sighed. “It took me a few years to realize why she probably said it. My dad and I had arranged our work schedules so one of us would be at Willow’s bedside at all times. I worked the bakery from 2 am to 11 am, and dad worked security at the lumberyard from 4 pm to midnight. It worked, but the schedule never really accounted for sleeping.”

“Since dad had his own HD symptoms taking a little more out of him each day, I always made sure he got lots of rest. So, the only times I would sleep were the times he wasn’t sleeping when he was home, which was only a few hours here and there. I remember I’d always be terrified to go to sleep; I’d be so sure something would to happen to Skylar while I was. And one day something did. I was sleeping when she had a massive seizure. I didn’t even wake up. Luckily, my dad had just come home from work and he was able to call the ambulance in time.”

“It was after that, when Willow mentioned the care home.” Gripping his hand in hers, she said softly, “I know it seems like they would feel abandoned. But when I looked at it from her perspective, from what she’d see every day in our exhausted faces, what she’d see in my sobbing apologies when she woke up in the ICU, I saw that sometimes,
that
is far more painful for them than being put in a care home.”

Tessa squeezed his hand gently. “So I guess I’m saying that at the end of the day, your way with the home, or my way without it, there was no winning or losing either way. Don’t beat yourself up over it too much.” She chuckled softly. “Says the pot to the kettle.”

And just like that, the ice he’d built around his heart all day simply cracked right down the middle. He stared at her for a long moment and then asked, “Do you want to do something today?”

 

 

 

“B
UT…ABBY SAID
that this was the day you two actively did nothing. Isn’t it like a tradition for you two?”

“Until now, it has been. But really, it was her tradition that I adopted and applied to my own day of pain.” His eyes ran over her face slowly. “I don’t know, when I’m around you though, you’re filled with such
life
. It’s kind of inspiring. Plus, you make me laugh; you make me want to do
something
today. Is that okay?”

She smiled at that character profile. “If I let you pick our activity, can I pick the meal?”

Chuckling, he replied, “Sure.”

“Okay then, c’mon," she checked her watch, “there’s this great food truck over in Tempe that serves the best Southern food I’ve ever tasted. The guy puts the exact location where he’s parked up on his twitter account every morning. It’s kind of a thing. And I swear, no matter where he’s parked, there’s always a huge line.” She hopped up off the couch. “If we book it over, we’ll catch him before he’s done for the day.”

They were off and running, but they hit a small snafu when her skirt got caught on the edge of the porch rail and tore at the seam.

“I think Abby left a sewing kit in the house if you want to try and sew it up.”

“No, that’s okay.” She flipped her skirt around and studied the tear. Then she picked up the hem of her skirt, hooked her key in the tear and let it rip.

Brian stood there just watching in fascination while she tugged the tear the rest of the way to the bottom of the skirt.

“You don’t do anything normal do you?”

“I make every effort not to.” She flipped her skirt back around. “There, now it’s a skirt with a slit. It’s cute. C’mon, let’s go. Seriously, you have to taste this guy’s shrimp and grits—”

He caught her by the elbow and spun her back into his arms. “You are so wonderfully weird.” He leaned in and captured her mouth in a perfectly chaste kiss that still managed to make her dizzy.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she held on when he turned to the car. “What’s a few more minutes going to hurt?”

After those few minutes came and went, however, he sighed. “Okay, we better go. I want you to get the meal choice you want.” He tugged her toward the car. “So, serious question, can I pick what were just doing as our activity for the night?” His brows rose suggestively.

“I don’t see why not,” she shrugged, “Because one more minute and I was going to suggest we forego eating altogether.”

He grinned, shaking his head. “I’m really glad you came over today.”

 

 

 

A
S THEY WALKED
back to the car, Tessa was savoring the last bite of her ice cream cone—her prize for beating him at bowling tonight, even though he maintained that she’d cheated the entire time.

Never had anyone ever accused her of using, letting alone
having
‘feminine wiles’ before.

She liked it.

Brian opened Tessa’s door for her and helped her in. It wasn’t until after she was buckled with no chance of escape, however, that he leaned in and said, “Okay, so tell me about your rules for flings.”

Startled, she blinked at him, wondering if he’d snuck in some beers at the bowling alley. “What?”

“The other week, you said you weren’t looking for anything serious. Connor used to have a one-month parameter on his flings; I figured you must have some specifics as well. And I’m curious to know what they are.”

Crap. She was simply not this good at improvising on the fly. Especially not when she had absolutely no frame of reference, and exactly one sexual experience in her past.

She should just tell him the truth.

“Okay,” he admitted, “I’m not just curious, I’m interested. Like you said, we have a connection, and since I’ve recently been thinking of trying my brother’s methods—seemed to work great for him—I thought I’d put it out there and ask you flat-out if you’re interested.”

Was she interested? Um. That was a no-brainer. “Yes.”

He grinned. “Great. Do you want to get together next Friday? The girls will be at Becky’s for a sleepover until Sunday. I can meet you at your place and you can tell me all your fling parameters then.”

Next weekend. Awesome. So that gave her one whole week to study up on flings.

 

 

 

T
AKING A SEAT
on the couch in Tessa’s apartment, Brian eyed a stack of chick flick DVDs on the side table that he was actually surprised to be in Tessa’s collection, along with a notebook and a neatly written, short, but…interesting list.

 

RULES FOR FLING

1) No sleeping over (the guest flingee must depart before the resident flinger wakes up)

2) No making plans further than one week in advance

3) No two consecutive date nights in a row

4) No telling Skylar or Connor or Abby

5) No sex in each other’s beds (the ground, sofa, countertops, hotel beds are fine)

 

Criminy, she just kept getting cuter every day.

“So is there someplace for me to sign on this contract?” he called out.

“What?” She returned from the kitchen with two beers and gasped in horror. “Ohmigod, put that down. That was…just a draft.”

“Uh huh.” Oh boy, this was just too much fun. “So what’s the deal with number one? That’s a little harsh. What happens if the guy doesn’t wake up as early as you? I know I myself like to sleep in late.”

“Well, then I’d kick you so you’d wake up, and then I’d go back to sleep.”

“Geez, I bet that was fun for all your past flings.” He grinned when she balked, her reaction just the answer he’d been looking for. “But one night stands sleep over all the time don’t they?”

“And that’s my point. One night stands are awkward the next day. Plus, they’re singular events—you never expect to see them again…which is why a fling is different.”

Not bad. Considering she’d just pulled that one out of her ass on the fly. He’d clearly underestimated her.

Remembering Connor’s addendum on his one-monthers, Brian asked, “So what’s your policy on notes…you know, for the guest flingee who sneaks out before the resistant flinger wakes up? Connor used to have a strict no notes, calls, texts, emails, or tokens of affection rule.”

“What? How that man never got drilled in the nuts by a stiletto is beyond me. Of course leave a note. I mean it doesn’t have to be a sonnet or anything. Just short and casual…rhyming optional.”

Brian hid his grin. For the umpteenth time since they’d met, he thought about just how fantastically different Tessa was from Beth and Abby.

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