Love, Laughter, and Happily Ever Afters Collection (34 page)

HE DIDN’T CALL. After Brian had liquefied half her brain cells with that speech, and made it impossible for her to think of little else besides what more she could have done to get her sentence extended from six to
seven
-ways-to-Sunday sex…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 absurd 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.”

* * * * *

BRIAN 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 had 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 a 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.” He gazed over at the calendar on the wall, at all the smiling green clovers Skylar had drawn on today’s date. “March 17
^th
was the day I admitted her. I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember signing all the paperwork, I remember not knowing how to leave, and most of all, I remember exactly what it felt like when I finally did. And sadly, at least for a while after that day, I know she remembered it all too.”

“Her dementia hadn’t set in yet?”

“It came in waves. But that day, she’d been fully lucid. I tell myself it’s better than if the reverse had happened and she hadn’t been aware when I left…that it would’ve been worse if she’d just woken up one day later with her mind crystal clear, but still wondering how in the hell she got there. No matter what I tell myself though, I can’t ever forget
that look
—that look on Beth’s face when I left the care home that night. Without her.”

Remembering it hit him like a sucker punch every time. And it was a punch he never ducked, especially not on March 17
^th
.

“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.” She seemed to be chewing the words in her mouth before she asserted again, “But it’s true. I think toward the end, before her memory started going, Willow actually did want to be put in a home. She tried to tell me once but I wouldn’t hear of it.” A self-deprecating sigh whooshed out of her. “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 two a.m, to eleven a.m., and dad worked security at the lumberyard from four p.m. 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 were only a few hours here and there. I remember I’d always be terrified to go to sleep. I was so sure something would happen to Willow if I did.”

Her eyes slammed shut, the same way his did whenever he’d remember those types of memories. “And one day, I was proven right. I was sleeping when Willow 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 incident that Willow mentioned the care home.” Gripping his hand in hers, she said softly, “I know it seems like our ‘abandoning them’ would be the worst thing they could feel. But when I looked at it from her perspective, from what she probably used to see every day in our exhausted faces, what she saw in my sobbing apologies when she woke up in the ICU…”

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 lightly. “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?”

“BUT…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?”

Smiling over that character profile, she wagered, “If I let you pick our activity, can I pick the meal?”

He chuckled. “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 out the door seconds later, but were brought to a halt when her skirt got caught on the edge of the porch rail and tore at the back seam.

“I think Abby left a sewing kit in the house if you want to try and sew it up. Or you can stay here and I’ll go get the food and come back.”

“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.

Meanwhile, Brian was standing there just watching in fascination as she extended the tear all 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 long 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 murmured before leaning down to capture her mouth in a single unassuming, perfectly chaste kiss. That still managed to make her dizzy.

This time, it was Tessa who stopped them from heading out. “What’s a few more minutes going to hurt?” she asked as she wrapped her arms around his neck and went in for multiple very assuming, perfectly unchaste kisses. To try and get
him
dizzy.

It was a great ‘few minutes.’

But after it came and went, Brian being Brian groaned and pulled back. “Okay, no more of that for a while. I want you to get the meal choice you want. And if we continue more of
that
, we’ll both starve to death.”

He gave her a lopsided grin—likely at the loopy expression she was undoubtedly wearing—and tugged her toward the car. She barely remembered buckling the seatbelt.

“So, serious question,” he tossed out when they were out on the road. “After we eat, can I pick what we were just doing as one of our activities for the night?” His brows rose suggestively.

“I don’t see why not,” she shrugged and replied without thinking, “Because if you hadn’t so rudely interrupted us back there, I was all set to just throw on some fruit-flavored chapstick and call it a meal.”

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

HOURS LATER, TESSA was walking hand in hand with Brian back to the car, merrily giving him consolation bites of her giant ice cream cone—her prize for beating him at bowling after their just-made-it-in-time food truck dinner, which he’d loved as much as she’d hoped he would. The goofy smile on her face had less to do with the ice cream, and more to do with his perfectly scandalous,
outrageous
accusation that she’d cheated all throughout the bowling game.

No one had ever accused her of using, letting alone
having
‘feminine wiles’ before.

She liked it.

When they finally got to the car, Brian, ever the gentleman, opened Tessa’s passenger door and helped her in. It wasn’t until after she was buckled in and floating on a post-perfect date bubble, however, that he leaned in and said, “Okay, so tell me about your rules for flings.”

Startled, she blinked at him and felt her pulse triple at the transformation.

His usual guy-next-door eye twinkle? Gone. Now, it was wholly eclipsed by the slow-burning dare-you-to-guess-what-I’m-thinking smolder she’d been fantasizing about since she’d seen it last. Eight days ago, if she wasn’t mistaken.

“The other week, you said you weren’t looking for anything serious,” he continued as she sat there, searching for her long lost ability to speak. “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 dating 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. Fabulous.

That gave her one whole week to study up on flings.

* * * * *

TAKING 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 see in Tessa’s collection, along with a notebook filled with notes, 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 somewhere 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. “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.”