How Forever Feels (5 page)

“Hey.” Jack wasn't grinning anymore. “You gave Snip the right to badmouth you for the rest of time if she wants to, and as for the other three, they're her friends. Whose side did you think they'd take?”

“You're right,” he said, with a steady look and a slight tip of his beer bottle in Jack's direction. “Friends should always have each other's backs.”

“Don't even—”

“I fucked up, Jack, and I get it, you're pissed, and that's why you've been avoiding me and Stella. But we're family, man. Don't I deserve a second chance? I mean, shit, doesn't everyone deserve that? When you fucked up and landed in that group home, Mom and Dad gave you a second chance, didn't they?” Will flashed a wide grin and shrugged. “Besides, you know Mom won't settle for anyone else but you as my best man.”

Fuhhh!
Will might be a shit, but he was right. Burt and Genie had given Jack a chance when no other family would even consider fostering a fourteen-year-old boy, and certainly not one who'd started smoking weed. If the Carsons hadn't plucked him out of that group home when they did…to this day the thought still made him shudder.

He might have been the tallest boy in his room, but that didn't mean shit when his five roommates were all muscle and liked to use him as their punching bag. Jack wasn't stupid, though. He learned pretty quick that no matter what happened, at the end of every day, he was still going to end up back in that same bunk in the same room with those same guys; so when asked, he learned to tell the doctors he'd gashed his forehead open on a cupboard door, and that he'd bruised his ribs falling down the stairs.

By the time he'd shown up in the emergency department with his right arm in two pieces and his left shoulder dislocated, he'd simply shrugged and called it an accident. There was no way in hell he would ever tell anyone what they'd done to him that night, and by the time he'd recovered, the Carsons had saved him.

They'd taken him in, given him a safe place to live with consistency and stability, things he'd never had before; and it was their guidance that helped steer him away from the stupid things he'd started doing, things he'd only done to try and show the other guys in the group home that he was cool like them.

Smoking a bit of pot and stealing candy from the 7-Eleven didn't exactly make him a hardened criminal, but he couldn't honestly say Genie was wrong in what she'd said at the rehearsal dinner.

He'd been heading in the wrong direction and they turned him around, so to this day, if something made Genie's life easier or happier, Jack did it. And Will wasn't stupid; he knew the second he mentioned Genie's name, Jack would do whatever was asked of him, even before he huffed out a resigned sigh.

“Attaboy. You won't regret it.” He slapped Jack on the shoulder and they started back toward Stella, who'd just stepped outside, letting the screen door slam behind her. “I hope you like pink.”

“Seriously?” Jack groaned quietly. “Why can't I just wear the same one I wore to your last wedding?”

“Because Stella wants her own wedding, not a revamp of someone else's.”

So for the next couple hours, they sat out on the deck and Jack tried his damnedest to show interest in all the wedding details Stella threw at him even though he couldn't have cared less about the length of her train, which shade of pink his cummerbund was going to be, or if the flower girl should throw rose petals or blow bubbles.

He even kept his mouth shut when they said they were looking to have the ceremony down by the waterfront. Stella and Will weren't stupid people, but if they thought having an outdoor wedding in November was a good idea, then they deserved to be rained on.

“Will you be bringing a date to the wedding?” Stella asked. “Some lucky girl you haven't told us about?”

“Nope,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Going stag again.”

He honestly hadn't meant to say “again,” it just came out, and once he'd said it, he couldn't get it back. To Stella's credit, though, she didn't flinch, just smiled and shot him a wink.

“Well, there's still time,” she said. “I'll mark you down as a plus one just in case. Or maybe you'll find someone you like at the wedding.”

Yeah, there was about a snowball's chance in hell of that happening, but he'd already put his foot in it. He didn't need to make it worse, so he just lifted his hands in a “you never know” gesture and chugged more of his beer.

“Have you been down to the new office yet?” Will asked.

“Yeah, I was down there this morning.”

“How's it looking?”

“Empty, but Nick's pretty sure we'll be in on schedule.”

Will lifted his brow as if that said everything he didn't.

“Whatever, man,” Jack said. “He seems like a good guy.”

“I guess.” Will looked like he was going to say more, but stopped when Jack's phone rang.

“Excuse me.” Pushing away from the patio table, he headed out onto the grass, thankful Will couldn't see him smile as he hit the answer button. “Hey Snip…No, it's fine, I'm glad you called…I'm good, you?”

As it always had, the sound of her soft voice calmed him, relaxed the knot in the base of his skull and made it easier for him to breathe.

“I can't tonight,” he said quietly. “Yeah…What about tomorrow? Whatever time works for you…Great, we'll see you then. ‘Kay. Bye.”

He ended the call, but it took him another couple seconds to force the grin off his face before he turned back to the patio.

“Everything okay?” Stella asked, then smiled when Jack nodded. “Will, if you'll fire up the grill, we'll get supper going.”

She'd barely closed the screen door behind her when Will pinned Jack with a look.

“Is this a thing now, you and Maya?”

“
A thing?
She wants to see Pete.” Jack didn't blink. “Is that a problem?”

“Not for me.” Will's shrug couldn't have been more forced. “I just don't want her getting in the way and making this difficult, that's all.”

“She was never the one who made any of this difficult.” Jack chuckled, dry and harsh. “But I don't think you need to worry, because she doesn't seem to give a shit about you or any of this anymore.”

“Good.” Will pulled the cover off the barbecue and tossed it over the back of the nearest deck chair. “So when are you going to see her?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Wow, not wasting any time, is she?”

Jack's fist tightened around his beer bottle. “What the hell's that supposed to mean?”

“Oh come on, Jack.” Will flicked the handle behind the grill to start the gas, then fired it up and closed the lid. “She's always liked you, you know that, and it wouldn't be too much of a stretch to think she'd make a move on you to get back at me.”

Anger lodged so deep in Jack's throat he couldn't say anything else.

“Just remember, bros before hos, man, that's all I'm sayin'.”

Jack had always hated that expression, and he hated it more as he stood there listening to Will laugh, sharp and harsh.

“I mean, shit, Jack, she was my wife. I've fu—”

“Hope you guys are hungry.” If Stella noticed the tension between Jack and Will, she didn't let on, just set the platter of steaks on the corner of the table nearest the grill. “Jack, would you give me a hand?”

He hadn't realized how hard he'd been gripping his beer bottle until he had to pry his fingers off, and once they were loose again, he had to force them to stay open because if they curled into a fist…

One swing, that's all he'd need. Just one. Okay, maybe two.

Instead, he pushed himself to his feet, nodded, and followed Stella into the kitchen. The second he stepped through the door and saw her standing like that—back against the oven door, arms crossed, staring straight at him—it was obvious he wasn't there to pack and tote steak sauce or cutlery.

“Okay, look.” Blowing out a breath, she unfolded her arms and curled her hands around the oven door handle. “I get it, you have no reason to like me, and that's totally my fault, I know, but I can't fix any of this if you don't let me try.”

Shit.
This is what he got for being such a dick to her for so long. He should have manned up and dealt with this right at the start; instead all he could do was cross his arms over his chest, then unfold them and stuff his hands in his pockets before he managed to finally meet her gaze.

“What Will and I did was wrong, Jack, we all know that, and I'm so,
so
sorry. I'll apologize for that until the end of time, but I'll never apologize for loving him, so if that's what you're waiting for, we might as well give up right now, because it's not going to happen.”

After another second she finally took pity on him, standing there all awkward and uncomfortable and continuing to shift his hands from his front pockets to his back ones.

“Here.” She shoved a huge bowl of potato salad into his hands then sank back against the stove again. “Will's your family, Jack, and he needs you. Believe it or not, he feels horrible for what he did to Maya, but what hurts him most is knowing he disappointed you.”

Her gaze never wavered. “What we did was bad, yes, but we're not bad people. We're
not
.”

Jack stared down at the paprika-covered egg slices in the bowl for a long moment before he finally found his voice.

“You don't understand, Stella. We're not talking about some chick who married Will on a whim at some drive-through Vegas wedding chapel. It's
Maya
we're talking about.”

“I know.” Stepping forward, she pressed her hands against his forearms and squeezed gently, a gesture that seemed to express both regret and empathy at the same time. “Will told me how close you were with her, so I understand why this is so hard for you and why you don't want to accept me. I'd be the exact same way if I were you. All I'm asking is that you give me a chance to prove this is real, that the trouble and the hurt we caused can end in something good, something happy.”

First Will, now Stella. It was like they planned their two-pronged attack before he got there, and while it irritated the crap out of him, they weren't wrong. For too long now he'd hovered in limbo, waffling over being supremely pissed at Will, yet continuing to have his back by cutting ties to Maya. So what did that make him?

A dick, just like Will.

Both Will and Maya had picked up and moved on, so why hadn't he?

If it had been anyone else but Will, Jack would have beat the shit out of him and never looked back. But it
was
Will, so Jack had found himself stuck between wanting to walk away and never look back and knowing if he did, he'd be leaving behind the whole Carson family, the only family he'd ever had.

Fuck
.

Talking to Snip last night only made this worse, because a couple hours with her made him realize what he'd been missing, and the one thing he knew for damn sure, standing there in Stella's kitchen, was that he didn't want to give that up again. But if it came down to choosing between Will and Maya again…no…it wouldn't come to that again, would it?

Shit.
Of course it would.

“What do you say, Jack?” Stella's voice dragged her face back into focus. A weak smile twitched against her mouth as her gray eyes searched his face. “Can you give us a chance? For Will's sake?”

“ 'Course.” He finally nodded. “You're right. I'm sorry.”

“Thank God,” she gushed. “Because if it came down to a choice between you and me, I'm not entirely sure I'd still be standing here tomorrow.”

She was right on that, Jack mused, because as stupid as it was, Will actually believed the whole “bros before hos” thing.

“Pivot! Pivot! Pivot!”

Ross Geller,
Friends,
“The One with the Cop”

The Stalk Market, halfway down Main Street, was tucked between a café with a cactus painted on the window and a barbershop complete with the spinning red, white, and blue pole.

An old metal trolley covered in all sorts of different flower arrangements, each one in a different kind of vase, none of which was regular old glass, stood outside Maya's shop. There were arrangements in pieces of hollowed-out birch branches; a couple were wrapped up in burlap and ribbon, and the one with the yellow roses and funky twigs was set inside a big bird nest.

How the hell did she come up with these ideas?

Jack stepped through the open door just as Snip came out from the back room looking even prettier than she had the other night. Her blond hair hung loose over her shoulders, the front bit held back by one of those little metal clips, and her blue eyes, deep in concentration as she stared down at the bunch of greenery in her hand, sparkled when she looked up at him.

And that smile…
Whew
.

It made him stupid. Plain and simple, that's what it did, every single time.

“Hey, Snip.”

“You're early. I thought we said five-thirty.”

“We did, but I, uh…” Clearing his throat, Jack took a couple steps closer, bumped the corner of a display, and had to scramble to save half a dozen ceramic mushrooms from crashing to the floor.

Laughing quietly, she hurried over to help, then took the ones he'd caught and set them all up again. “I still need to close up; can you give me a couple minutes?”

“Yeah. I'll just…hang out.” Hang out, right. Like he hadn't been doing that all day at the hotel, hanging out and counting down the minutes.

“Where's Pete?”

“In the Jeep. Top's down, so he's all right.”

“I wonder if he'll remember me.” Frowning over that, she headed back to the counter to answer the ringing phone. “Thank you for calling The Stalk Market, this is Maya.”

While she took the order, Jack wandered around the shop, making sure he kept a good distance from anything else that might tip.

The back half of the south wall was a massive cooler filled with all sorts of flowers; the roses and carnations he could pick out, but most of the other stuff was a complete mystery. And who knew roses came in so many colors?

The store itself was full of bright and colorful arrangements, crazy-looking cacti, and all sorts of knickknack things like garden ornaments and…
really?
…mesh bags filled with rocks. Sure, they were all clean and smooth and they looked good over in that glass vase with the bamboo stalk, but they were still just rocks, and he couldn't imagine buying them when he could walk down to the river and get them for free.

All the shelving and display tables had been made from old pallets she'd found and refinished herself. He remembered Will saying it would look dumpy, but it didn't; it gave the place a cool kind of rustic look that seemed to blend in perfectly with the rest of the store.

Maya stood behind the counter surrounded by what Jack would only describe as an explosion of creativity. Her work table lay buried under plant clippings, flower petals, scraps of thick brown paper, plastic sticks, a couple stalks of what might have been some kind of fern, two tipped-over brown plant pots, chunks of green foam, and a whole bunch of magazines and catalogs.

Half a dozen different-colored streams of ribbon dangled around her head, sticking to her hair when she moved. Swatting them away, her smile widened when she caught him looking at her, and for about the millionth time in the last two years, the same thought burned a streak through Jack's brain: Will's a fuckin' idiot.

And as usual, that thought was immediately followed by a crashing wave of guilt. Just yesterday, he'd agreed to let it lie, so he needed to stop thinking things like that about Will. And while he was at it, he should probably stop thinking about how pretty Will's wife was.

Ex-wife.

Like it made a difference.

Shit
.

“Sorry ‘bout that.” Dropping the phone back into its cradle, Maya finished scribbling on the order pad then turned to face him, her soft smile making him smile back at her. “It's so weird that you're here.”

“Bad weird?”

“No, not bad weird. Just…” Leaning back against the work table, she crossed her arms over her chest and shrugged as a pink flush crept over her cheeks. “I don't know. I'd given up on ever hearing back from you, and now suddenly here you are!”

“Yeah, here I am.” Jack ran his finger over a crazy-looking orange-and-purple spiky flower as he glanced around the store again. “This place looks great, Snip. You've done a great job.”

“Thanks.” There was a lot of pride in that one word, that one smile. “So where do you want to take him?”

“Hmm?”

“Pete. There's a great trail down by the river.”

“Sure, yeah.” As he spoke, she headed out the front door and started wheeling the cart inside. “Is there something I can do to help? Something that doesn't involve anything breakable?”

“No.” She laughed. “I just need to clean off the back table and cash out. Shouldn't take long.”

With the door locked and the
CLOSED
sign in the window, she reached for a little hand broom, but Jack tugged it away from her and nodded toward the register.

“You do the math, I'll do the sweeping.”

A couple times she had to duck around him to get things out of the back room, and every time she did, he pulled himself back as far as he could to avoid touching her. Maybe having both of them working in such a small space wasn't such a good idea, especially when she kept smiling at him like that.

Damn!

“Okay.” She pulled a small bouquet out of the cooler and gave the place a final once-over. “I have to run home and change first and then I have one stop to make. D'you want to come with me or—”

“Sure.”

Her long blue skirt swirled around her legs, and her flip-flops slapped her feet as she led him out the door and locked it behind them. “I rent the apartment above Jayne's bookstore.”

He followed her past the barbershop, a papered-up building with a
FOR LEASE
sign in the window, and on toward Dandelion Books, where old copies of Frank Herbert and Mercedes Lackey novels stood in the window. Excellent choices.

“Hi, guys.”

“Jayne. Good to see you again.” Jack wasn't even sure she heard him, because her eyes were trained on Maya, unblinking, as though silently asking something. A brief shake of Snip's head dismissed it, and Jayne turned a huge smile Jack's way.

“Good to see you, too. I hope we didn't scare you too much the other night.”

“Nah,” he said, then laughed. “Not too much, anyway.”

Unlike other bookstores Jack frequented, Jayne's didn't stock picture frames, cooking utensils, or blankets. There were no wicker baskets, no stationery, and no toys. There were only books, lots and lots of books.

The shelves were too solid, too old, and just slightly too imperfect to be anything other than handmade. In fact, everything about the store screamed old, original, and quirky, from the weathered and knotted wood that made up the counter, to the set of encyclopedias that lined the shelf under the widow, to the floor itself, which was made up of thick wide planks like something you'd see in an Old West movie.

“Wow,” he muttered. “You don't see that very often.”

“It's my favorite part.” Jayne grinned, running the toe of her shoe across the knot in one of the planks. “I was worried Nick would have to pull it all up when he did the renovations, but he made it work.”

“How long have you had this place?”

“It was my grandmother's. I grew up here, spent my first eighteen years in the apartment upstairs, and then when Gran died, she left it to me.”

“Come on.” Snip laughed as she unlocked the door at the back. “I'll give you the grand tour. Watch your head.”

With the door secured behind them again, she led him up a steep, narrow staircase to what had to be the smallest apartment ever built. With less than a quarter turn of his head in either direction, he could see each of the four rooms clearly. Actually, it was really only three—a bathroom, a bedroom, and the room he was in now, which was divided into both a living room and a kitchen.

“I'll just be a minute,” she said, passing him the bouquet. “Would you hold those please? Take a load off.”

“Where?” he muttered. “There's cubicles at work bigger than this.”

“It's a little small, but—”

“A
little
? I feel like Gulliver.”

He loved the sound of Maya's laugh: the soft, gentle breath and then…yup…the snort.

Glossy magazines covered the narrow coffee table near the couch, the top one opened to a two-page layout of different flower arrangements. From where he was standing, it looked like Snip had taken a Sharpie to it, circling parts of the pictures and crossing out other bits.

Jack stepped over to the table and lifted the stack of magazines to uncover the DVD case poking out from the bottom of the pile. Apparently she still had a thing for Denzel Washington.

“Okay,” she said, coming out of the bedroom, her skirt and blouse replaced by a pair of faded jeans and an orangey-pink tank top. “I'm ready.”

“2 Guns?”
Jack waved the movie cover back and forth. “Interesting choice.”

“Awesome choice, you mean.” Her left brow lifted as her mouth curled into a teasing grin. “The two most beautiful men in the world together in one movie—what more can a girl ask for?”

“I don't know,” he said. “But I bet your friend Griffin might have something to say about it.”

“Please.” Maya rolled her eyes and headed for the door, lifting a black hoodie off the hook as she did. “If he's no fan of Denzel or Marky Mark, he's no friend of mine.”

Back downstairs, Jayne glanced up from the paperback she was skimming. “See you later. Oh, hey, how about dinner at our place on Sunday?”

“I'm in.” Maya was still nodding as both she and Jayne turned to Jack.

“Me? Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks.”

“Great—bring a salad! And Pete!”

With a final wave, Snip zipped up her hoodie then hesitated when they hit the sidewalk. “Where'd you park?”

“Around the corner there.” He waited until they made it to the barbershop, then stopped. “Brace yourself.”

Circling his thumb and middle finger, he let out a short sharp whistle, then stood back and watched as Snip's face lit up. Pete came bounding around the corner from where Jack had left him in the Jeep, took one look at Maya, and bolted straight for her.

Anyone who didn't believe dogs could smile had never met Pete.

Snip didn't even hesitate, just dropped to a crouch and wrapped her arms around his neck as he smothered her face in a barrage of wet, sloppy kisses.

“There's my Sweetie Petey,” she cooed. “Who's a good boy?”

“Guess he remembers you.”

The more she scratched him, the harder he pushed against her, until she was teetering back on her heels; but she didn't stop.

“Such a handsome boy, aren't you?” Taking the dog's face in her hands, she kissed him between the eyes and went to stand, but Pete wasn't done lapping up her attention quite yet, and with Snip not quite balanced, all it took was one more push of his shoulder against her leg to send her stumbling backward.

Jack was already in position behind her and managed to catch Maya under the arm while holding the flowers up out of the way.

“Thanks.” She laughed. Even back on her feet, she still kept scratching Pete's head. “I forgot he did that.”

“Only with you.” Sure, Pete nudged other people when he wanted attention, but he'd always gone full-on bulldozer with Maya and she'd never once complained, not even when it left her covered in dog hair and slobber.

She drew the line at having a seventy-five-pound Lab sit on her lap, though, so he had to settle for resting his chin on the back of Maya's seat. All a ploy to have her keep petting him and telling him how handsome he was.

It worked.

“You're too young to be going gray,” she murmured, giving Pete's chin a gentle rub. “Poor thing.”

“Yeah,” Jack snorted at his pathetic dog. “You can see how much he's suffering. Where to?”

The Parkside Retirement Home was a newish-looking four-story building surrounded by redbrick walkways over thick green grass. Three floors up, a little old woman in a flowery blue Hawaiian dress welcomed Maya with a big smile and a kiss on the cheek.

“Come in, come in.”

“Thanks, but we can't stay, we just wanted to drop these off.”

“You dear girl.” The old woman's eyes welled up as she held the bouquet under her nose and inhaled deeply. “They're beautiful, thank you, but—”

“Never you mind.” With a quick flick of her hand, Maya waved away her concern; then before the other woman could argue, Maya took Jack by the elbow and tugged him forward a little. “Mrs. Goodsen, this is my friend Jack. He's working in town for the next couple of months.”

If Jack felt like Gulliver before, it was twice as bad when he wrapped his hand around the old woman's—so small, so fragile.

“It's nice to meet you,” he said.

“Jack.” The old woman's eyes softened as she closed her other hand around his and squeezed. “My late husband was a Jack.”

Mrs. Goodsen's gaze narrowed a little, but she never looked away from him, just smiled slowly. And damn if she didn't wink at him!

“I'll tell you this, Maya,” she said. “You can't go wrong with a man named Jack. They're good people.”