Текст книги "Semper Fi"

Автор книги: Jane Harvey-Berrick

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Текущая страница: 21 (всего у книги 24 страниц)

I stood nervously next to the bed, having no moves, no smooth lines, uncertain what to do and what to say. It was a lot like the first time she’d ever touched me this way; I was lost then, too.

She pulled the curtains, shutting out the sun so the light was muted.

Then she walked up to me and stroked my cheek soothingly. I leaned into her hand and my eyes closed.

“I don’t know if I can…” I admitted, hating to feel so weak.

“Shh, tesoro,” she said gently. “I just want to feel your skin next to mine. Anything else, well, that’s a bonus.”

Just laying on the bed together? My body relaxed, some of the tension leaving. But a small part of me was disappointed, as well.

We kissed slowly, almost carefully, remembering, relearning, starting again. But then I felt the first heat of desire warm my blood, and I felt … alive. I swept her long, thick hair from her neck and ran my tongue up to her jaw, tasting, touching, wanting. My hands massaged her waist, letting my fingers sink into her soft flesh. Without permission, my right hand crept up her body, hovering over her bra strap, before my left hand slowly reached down to cup her round, curvy ass.

She groaned with pleasure, and another shot of desire pulsed through me. I tried to ignore the fact that I wasn’t hard, but as soon as I had that thought, any hint of an erection disappeared. Despair filled me, but then Caro took over, maybe sensing my unease.

She pushed her hands under my t-shirt, stroking my stomach and chest. I felt her fingers trace around the small scar on my shoulder where the bullet had punctured my lung, and the larger scar on my back where it had exited. I tensed immediately, so she moved her hand away, instead letting her fingers stroke down my spine.

I kissed her again, this time letting my hands find their own place. My fingers wove into her hair and I pulled her toward me more tightly. I wanted her—I needed this.

Please God let me have this moment with this woman.

Gently, she reached for my t-shirt, and I hesitated before I let her pull it over my head, embarrassed by how thin I’d become. I was getting back some muscle tone, but I’d changed. Fuck, I’d changed. I think she was searching for my dog tags, but I’d taken them off the first night. I was going to toss them, but in the end I threw them to the back of a drawer. I hadn’t looked at them again.

Then Caro reached for my belt and a wave of panic shot through me. I caught her hands and shook my head.

“I don’t think I’m ready for this, Caro. What if…?”

Her hands rested on my hips as she looked into my eyes.

“Do you want me to show you how I reminded myself of you when you were in the hospital?” she asked. “Do you remember what I showed you that night in Kabul?”

And I remembered. I remembered the night in that ugly hotel in Kabul. Me touching myself, telling her to think of me; Caro touching herself, then coming again and again as I drove into her. We’d each given the other something to remember by; something special, something important.

I nodded, my breathing suddenly shallow. I wanted to see her touch herself here and now.

“I will,” she said in a challenging tone, “if you take off your pants.”

“Caro…”

“That’s the deal, Sebastian,” she said firmly. “Non-negotiable.”

I hesitated for a moment, then unbuckled my belt and dropped my jeans to the floor. I deliberately angled my right leg away from her, so she couldn’t see the ugly scar that ran the length of my thigh. It sickened me; I didn’t want it to have the same effect on her. But her eyes were fixed on my crotch and I was surprised to realize that I’d gotten a chubby without knowing it. I guess you could say things were looking up, but I still felt like I could deflate at any second. And if a woman tells you that doesn’t matter, she’s talking bullshit.

“Sit in the chair,” she ordered. “Make yourself comfortable—I could be some time.”

That made me smile.

“First, I’d make sure the curtains were closed,” she said, pointing toward the windows like a flight attendant. “Then, I’d pull back the duvet and arrange the pillows.”

As she spoke, she flicked back the sheets and piled up the pillows near the headboard.

“Then I’d put on a little mood music…”

She pointed the remote at her CD player and the sounds of Martha’s Harbour swirled softly from the speakers.

You are an ocean wave, my love

Crashing at my bow…

“I’d kick off my sneakers,” she continued as she raised one eyebrow, “because I’m really not a Manolo sort of girl … that’s high heels to you, Hunter.”

I rolled my eyes as I smiled back at her. “I lived in Paris for six months, Caro. I have heard of Manolo Blahnik.”

“Yes, well, he’s from Spain, so there’s no need to look so superior, Sebastian.”

Her teasing was definitely helping me to relax. Caro always knew what I needed.

“Besides,” she went on, “I can’t walk in high heels unless I’ve got you to hang onto … but I’m not averse to wearing them in the bedroom.”

My mind was skittering all over the place. At the mention of her hanging onto me, I felt cold, knowing that I was the one who had to hold onto her or risk face-planting. But the thought of her wearing nothing but a pair of really high heels … hell, yeah!

My breath caught in my throat and my hands gripped the edge of the chair. Caro’s eyes flicked to me quickly before she carried on.

“So, after I’ve kicked off my sneakers, I’d peel off my socks, because leaving them on just isn’t sexy, and if you ever do that, Hunter, I’ll be justified in filing for divorce—after we’re married, of course, which you keep putting off.”

I frowned, not wanting to get into that right now. It was too much. Too much.

“I’d imagine your fingers teasing me around my waistband,” she said, her hands copying her words. “And then I’d think about you unzipping my jeans and standing back while I shimmy out of them.”

My eyes followed her pants as she slid them down her long legs to the floor.

“And I’d pull off my t-shirt because I’d be feeling hot just thinking about you touching me.”

Her t-shirt followed the jeans, and she was standing in just a bra and panties, looking like Heaven and sin, all in one sexy gift-wrapped package.

“And then I’d touch my breasts like this, Sebastian,” she whispered, squeezing her tits together and throwing her head back, “like you asked me to once before, and I’d imagine you running your hands over me and unhooking my bra, and you’d torment my nipples with your hands and your hot, sweet mouth, your tongue moving around and around me like this.”

Damn, that was hot!

Then she unhooked her bra, dropped it to the floor as she teased and pinched her nipples, and turned around, waving her fantastic ass in my direction.

“And I’d have to climb onto the bed, just like this, Sebastian,” she said, posing provocatively as she slinked up toward the pillows.

Then she turned around to face me and knelt up. “And I’d think about how you’d toy with the lace on my panties, just like this, and how your fingers would tease me, sliding inside me, finding me all hot and wet and wanting.”

I watched as her fingers dipped into her panties, and I could hear the slick, wet sounds as she moved her fingers inside herself, moaning softly.

“And I’d think what it was like to feel your mouth on me and your tongue inside me, tantalizing and torturing me, bringing on an orgasm with a flick of your tongue.”

“Fuck!” I hissed, gripping the edge of my chair even harder.

“And I’d lay back on the bed and imagine your long, hard cock, sliding inside me, thrusting fast—really fast—and bringing on another orgasm, just like this.”

She lay back on the bed and shimmied out of her panties, then propped herself up on the pillows, pulled her knees up slightly and opened her legs.

She gazed up at me from beneath her eyelashes as she continued to touch herself. She was so sexy and so amazing, I wanted to … I didn’t know what I wanted.

“And I’d wish you were with me, Sebastian,” she continued, her voice husky, “because although I’ve got a damn good imagination, I’d rather have the real thing any day.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, then looked up to meet mine.

“I’m so wet for you, Sebastian. Do you want to touch me?”

Yes! No! I don’t know!

I swallowed and tried to answer her, but then she closed her eyes and rubbed herself harder, her back arching, high-pitched whimpers breaking from her throat.

Without thinking, I stood up, just needing to be closer to her. And I could do this—my hands still knew what to do, even if the rest of my body was fucked.

I stretched out on the bed next to her, ignoring the spasms of pain that ran through my shoulder and thigh, then nudged her hand out of the way as I circled my fingers around her clit, sliding two inside her. So fucking warm and wet and tight around me.

She groaned loudly, and without conscious thought, I leaned across and fastened my lips over her breast, teasing the nipple until it pebbled in my mouth, sucking hard. She ran her hands over my shoulders and a tremor rippled through me. I concentrated on her other breast, swirling my tongue around and pulling lightly with my teeth.

Her moans were breathy now, so I trailed kisses down her body, down her stomach, over her mound, and then inside her. So soft, so sweet. My tongue began sliding in and out, creating a fast rhythm, and she locked her hands into my hair, holding me to her as her body began to tremble.

“Sebastian!” she called, as I pushed her legs further apart, really working her, before she came loudly.

I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand, then moved up to kiss her thigh.

“Much, much better than my imagination, Sebastian!” she gasped.

Relief flowed through me and I chuckled quietly.

But then I almost leapt off of the mattress when her hands brushed over my briefs.

“Oh, you’re so hard, tesoro … I want you inside me.”

Shit, I was hard? I hadn’t even realized.

“Where are the fucking condoms, Caro,” I snapped, afraid I was going to lose it, one way or another.

“Don’t need them,” she hissed out. “I’ve been taking the pill. Just you, Sebastian, now.”

Why hadn’t I known that? Because I’d been a fucking douche for the last few months.

She ignored my surprise, instead pushing my briefs over my hips and fastening both hands over my dick, guiding me inside of her.

So, so good! And I was the one groaning loudly.

She clenched around me and I nearly came, only just managing to hold back.

“Fuck, Caro!” I gasped.

“Don’t try and control it,” she pleaded. “Just love me. Love me, Sebastian.”

I flexed my hips, ignoring the shooting pains in my under-used body, and began to thrust into her.

It felt so intense; like we were meant to be together; man and woman, moving together.

The word love blossomed into my mind and I lost it, pouring myself into her, filling her with everything I had in me.

My whole body trembled and I rested between her thighs, my face buried in her neck, my breath still coming in gasps.

She stroked my back and whispered, “I love you. So much, tesoro.”

Eventually, I pulled out and lay back next to her. She touched my cheeks and her fingers came away wet. Had I been crying?

“Are you okay?” she asked quietly.

I nodded, too choked to speak. Then I opened my eyes and smiled at her.

“Very okay, Caro. I’m very okay.”

And we held each other without needing to speak.

That was the beginning. And after, I couldn’t help wanting to touch her every chance I got.

But it wasn’t just the sex—I was healing in other ways, as well, working-out every day. I pushed myself to get stronger, taking walks outside, and talking to Caro—really talking to her, letting her in.

She knew when I was struggling or when I needed some time by myself, and she knew how to help me get to a better place.

We fought, too. Hell, yeah, we fought! But somehow that didn’t matter because she understood me.

One of the things we argued about was disability checks. To get disability, it’s a mind fuck. Caro said I should get the government ones, but I couldn’t face it. I was waiting on the VA payments. That would be a long fucking wait. Anything I did get would be deposited direct into my bank account, but I couldn’t bring myself to follow it up. Caro’s view was that I’d earned it; I just couldn’t see it like that. To me, it was a sign of my failure; a sign that I was unemployed and unemployable.

Then one day she brought up a subject that I’d been dreading.

We were slumped together on the sofa, drinking this fucking awful herbal tea because Caro said caffeine made me jumpy. I’d have rather had some shitty instant decaf than drink this dishwater, but that was one of the arguments I lost. Apparently it was ‘good’ for me. Whatever. Still tasted like gnats piss.

“Sebastian, can I ask you something?”

“Sure, baby,” I said, running my hand down her arm and twining my fingers with hers.

“Well, I was wondering … what are your nightmares about?”

I tensed immediately and Caro flinched.

“It’s hard to talk about,” I said, my voice low and quiet.

She nodded slowly and kissed my cheek gently.

“It’s okay—you don’t have to tell me.”

“I just don’t want you to have that shit in your head.”

No one should.

“Sebastian, you wake up screaming every night—it doesn’t have to be me, but I think you need to tell someone.”

“I’m not seeing a fucking shrink,” I snapped, irritated that she’d mentioned that idea again.

She didn’t reply and we sat in silence, staring out of the windows, watching the horizon soften as the sun sank.

I didn’t want to hurt her. I didn’t want her to need to tiptoe around me with all these no-go areas that set me off. That was no way to live, and I didn’t want to repeat my dad’s mistakes by trying to drink away my problems. Fuck that!

So I took a deep breath and began to speak.

“I can’t tell you everything, Caro, because it’s still classified and you can’t report any of this.”

“Of course not!” she said, sounding stung.

Shit, that wasn’t a good start, but the truth was I’d worked for Military Intelligence and everything was classified, even now.

“Sorry, baby, I had to say it.” I paused, gathering my thoughts, deciding how much I could tell her. “We were in Now Zad in the first place to make contact with someone—a local guy—who was going to get us to one of the Taliban leaders—so we could take him out.”

She looked shocked. Fuck, I hadn’t even thought how that sounded. Yeah, I was part of an assassination squad. Fuck fuck fuck, I should have thought this through more.

I took another deep breath and plowed on.

“That’s why they wanted me there, because they were worried about using local interpreters for a sensitive op. It was supposed to be a small patrol, just the 14 of us, with Jankowski in charge. At the last minute, Grant was told we had to take these two guys from the Afghan National Army with us. He wasn’t happy, but he got overruled by HQ. We headed out into the mountains for what we thought would be three or four days, but we didn’t last that long. When we got to the village for the meet, we knew right away that something was wrong—it was just too damn quiet. There was nobody in the fields, no one sitting outside their houses. We were all on edge.

“I went ahead with the ANA guys and they were calling out for the man we were supposed to meet. Then this guy came out from behind one of the buildings and he was talking really fast, and he looked fucking terrified. I realized he was quoting from the Qu’ran and I knew then he’d been turned into a human fucking bomb. I yelled at everyone to get back, but then I felt like I’d been punched in the shoulder and I realized I’d been shot. One of the ANA guys had tried to take me out, then shot his colleague and turned his rifle on the rest of the squad. The firefight started, and I could hear Jankowski yelling at the contact to get down. Chiv and Jez came running over to help me—and that’s when the bomb was detonated.”

I swallowed and closed my eyes.

“The Afghan contact was … gone: Jankowski, Chiv and Jez were caught in the blast. If Jez hadn’t been so close to me, I’d have been killed, too, but he took it for me.”

My voice dropped to a whisper.

“I had pieces of Jez all over me. That’s what I dream about.”

Caro’s hands flew to her mouth; mine were shaking and my breathing had become shallow, like I was on the verge of a panic attack. Talking about it brought it all back vividly. This was why I didn’t want to talk to a shrink—it made everything much more immediate. I wanted to forget. But I never could.

“I understand,” Caro whispered, stroking my cheek. “I do, tesoro. When I was in Iraq … it was the sound of the helicopters; they were bringing in wounded and I saw … I saw the casualties. But I don’t have that nightmare anymore, Sebastian, because my worst nightmare is losing you.”

I held her tightly. That was all I could do.

A few days later, just as I was finishing my morning exercises, hot, sweaty and tired, Caro must have decided it was time to push me a little more.

“How do you feel about another challenge, Sebastian?”

I glanced over at her, wiping my bare chest with my t-shirt and stretching out for a warm-down.

“Sounds interesting. Does this one involve leaving the bedroom?”

She raised an eyebrow at me.

“Yes, it does, but now you’ve got me thinking other things, Hunter, and my once pristine thoughts are getting a little dirty.”

“How dirty?” I asked, feeling my dick begin to stiffen.

She stood with her hands on her hips and looked me in the eye.

“Very dirty.”

I groaned. “Why didn’t you say that before I did that damn workout, Caro?”

She laughed and stepped away as I reached out to pull her against my sweaty body.

“Rain check until tonight, Hunter. It’s a beautiful day, we should be outside.”

I guess I could wait. Just. I nodded in agreement, then lifted her hand to my lips, brushing kisses over the tip of each finger.

I still had some moves.

“Yeah, okay. I need to see Atash anyway. He’s got some problem with immigration that he wants me to look into.”

Atash was the name of one of the Afghan men from the café, and weird as it was—the Afghan refugee and the former-Marine—we were becoming friends.

Atash’s family had been forced to leave their village near Lashkar Gah in Helmand Province and were struggling alone in a new country. I spoke Dari so I could help them—with basic stuff to start, but lately Atash was asking me about more important things. I hadn’t mentioned it to Caro because … well, because it felt so damn good to be needed.

Caro wanted me, but she didn’t need me. She said she did, but she was so fucking independent. She had a career and earned good money, paid her mortgage, had friends who were fucking university professors and bankers and shit. And then there was me—the hanger-on who brought sweet fuck-all to the table. Yeah, not exactly a partnership of equals. Caro never tried to make me feel dumb; I could do that all by myself.

I saw Atash most days. Sometimes we just hung at his place, drinking that disgusting sweet, milky tea all Afghans like.

Atash felt uncomfortable coming to our place. I think seeing Caro talk to me without being subservient, it freaked him out a bit. He was getting used to it, but still, he didn’t get it.

I brought my mind back to Caro’s question.

“So, if you’re not talking about sex, Caro,” I prompted, “what’s this ‘challenge’ that you’re going on about?”

She looked up and met my eyes.

“I want you to meet my friends. I miss them, and they really want to meet you.”

Ah, shit.

My gaze dropped away. I wanted to say no fucking way, but I knew I couldn’t put it off forever.

“Okay, I guess it’s time.”

Doomsday—as I called it in my head—was fast approaching. Caro had dragged me all over Long Beach to get the ingredients she wanted, and she’d been cooking up a storm all morning. I was banished from the kitchen on the grounds that I could burn water.

Instead, I helped her clean up the place then went to take a shower. I shaved off the two-day stubble and realized that my hair was getting kinda long, turning into a crazy mop and really blond from the sun. I’d had the buzz cut for so long, it still took me by surprise that I looked more like a surfer than a Marine when I looked in the mirror.

Caro walked into the bathroom while I was pushing my hair off my face.

“Thought I’d grow it for a while,” I said, casually measuring her reaction.

“Fine by me,” she smiled, tugging a lock between her fingers. “I’m going to be gone for a few minutes. I have to go out to pick up a couple of things I forgot. Back in ten, okay? If the oven buzzer goes, better get your cute ass into the kitchen.”

I caught her for a quick kiss before she left, then pulled on a pair of ripped jeans, and shoved my feet into a pair of flip-flops. At least I wasn’t wearing boardshorts to meet her friends. Good enough.

While Caro was out, I decided to make a long overdue phone call and get in touch with Ches.

He wasn’t my brother by blood, but that’s how I thought of him. He’d married his college sweetheart—unfortunately Amy still hated me for sleeping with her best friend. Well, two of them. Whatever.

But I got lucky, because it was Ches’s five year old son who answered.

“Peters’ residence. This is Ben Peters speaking.”

Too fucking cute.

“Hey, Benny! It’s your Uncle Seb. How you doin’, buddy?”

“Hi, Uncle Seb! Daddy said you’ve been sick. Grandpa gave me an Autobot Topsin Transformer. When are you coming to see us?”

“Soon, I hope. Is your dad around?”

The phone dropped with a thud and I heard him yelling for Ches. There were some muffled voices, then I heard my friend.

“Seb, is that you?”

“Yeah, man! Who’d you think it was?”

“I don’t know,” he laughed, “fucking ghost of Christmas past! How are you doing?”

In the background I could hear Ben yelling, “Mommy! Daddy’s swearing!” which made me smile.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Really?” His voice was skeptical.

There was a long pause and I hated how fucking awkward this felt.

“I won’t lie, man. It’s been … hard. But I’m doing better now. Still got a fucking gimpy leg, but better than I was. Caro has been amazing, putting up with my miserable ass.”

There was another pause while Ches took that in. I knew he still blamed Caro for a lot of what had gone down in the past. I was over it, but I could tell he wasn’t. Not that I’d ever tell her that.

“So, she hasn’t kicked you out yet?”

“Nope. What can I say, I’m a keeper.”

He laughed loudly.

“Well, f– darn it! You took long enough to call me.”

“Caro said she’d been emailing you, so you knew what was going on.”

“Are both your arms broken, Hunter? You couldn’t send me a lousy email yourself? Jeez, I get a phone call one evening saying that…” He took a deep breath. “Forget it, you’re good now. I was going to fly over and kick your ass myself if you hadn’t gotten in touch by Labor Day. It’s really good to hear from you, bro.”

“Yeah, about that. Would you ... and Amy … be good to fly over anyway?”

“I guess so. Why?”

“Well, it’s just that me and Caro … we’re going to get married, and I was hoping that…”

But I didn’t get to finish my sentence. Ches was swearing into the phone and laughing and getting by Amy in the background. I had to hold my cell away from my ear.

“Seriously?” he yelped. “You’re going to do it? You’re really going to get hitched?”

“Yep, got the ring and everything.”

“You tell me the date and I’ll be there.” Then his voice became more serious. “I know you’ve wanted this for a long time. I’m really happy for you, Seb.” Then his voice rose up. “Oh man! Mom is gonna go crazy! She’ll be dress shopping before I finish telling her. You’re gonna invite them too, right?”

“You think your folks will want to come?” I asked, surprised.

He laughed again. “That’s a hell yeah! You’re their son—an uglier, pain-in-the-ass son.”

Hearing Ches say that—telling me I was part of his family—that meant a lot to me. Maybe I’d tell him one day.

“Well, okay. I’ll let you know a date when we’ve decided it.”

I was feeling pretty good when I ended the call, and then I realized that although I had asked Caro to marry me when we were in Italy, we hadn’t discussed it lately. I knew that was my fault.

I heard the front door slam as she walked back in, and knew I wanted to make it right as soon as possible.

I wandered into the kitchen and leaned against the wall watching her unload a shopping bag, then slide something from the oven. Smelled really good.

“You want something, Hunter?” she asked, pushing her hair behind her ears as she worked.

I let my eyes sweep up and down her long, tan legs. She was wearing a really cute yellow sundress. I was used to seeing her in shorts and t-shirts, so seeing her all girly … yeah, very distracting.

“Uh, I spoke to Ches while you were out,” I said casually.

She turned around and glanced at me in surprise. “You did?”

She sounded pleased that I’d finally gotten around to talking to him—but also maybe a bit nervous?

“And?”

“He said he and Amy would fly out for our wedding.”

I heard the breath catch in her throat and she stared at me, our eyes locked together.

“If you still want to marry me, Caro?” I grit out quickly.

A huge smile spread across her face and her eyes glowed with happiness as she flung herself into my arms.

“Of course I do, Sebastian. I … I thought you’d changed your mind.”

I shook my head slowly, pulling her more tightly against my body.

“Never that, Caro, but I didn’t want to marry you if … if I couldn’t be a man … with you. And I promised myself I wouldn’t be using a fucking stick when I walked down the aisle.”

“They don’t have aisles in City Hall,” she cried out, somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

I rocked her slowly, repeatedly kissing her hair. I can’t deny I was fucking relieved by her reaction.

“So what else did Ches say?” she mumbled into my chest.

“He said that he’d decided if he still hadn’t heard from me by Labor Day, he was going to come out here and kick my ass himself.”

“Good idea,” she agreed with a murmur, “he should do that anyway. Did he say anything about me?”

I couldn’t help smiling at the note of insecurity I heard in her voice; it was so unlike Caro. She’d been so strong through all the shit I’d given her the last few months.

“I guess he was surprised—and pleased, I think—that you hadn’t kicked me out. He’s cool, Caro, don’t worry about him.”

“And Amy?”

“Oh, she just wants to kick my ass, period.”

I felt her smile. “I think I’ll get along with her.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I muttered, only half joking.

I held her face gently and looked into her eyes.

“Just promise me you won’t turn into one of those bat-shit crazy women about the whole wedding thing, Caro.”

“Such sweet nothings you whisper,” she teased me. “Don’t worry, Sebastian, that’s not my style.” Then she slapped my chest. “I don’t care if I get married in jeans.”

“Jeans?” I said, raising my eyebrows.

“Well, my favorite jeans,” she replied, with a challenging stare.

“Okay, jeans. Cool.”

“Now, let me finish cooking or we’ll have nothing to serve our guests.”

I looked at the mound of food already prepared in the kitchen and shook my head. I also wasn’t too sure that they were ‘our’ guests, and I definitely didn’t think I was going to get along with them. They were older, older than Caro, and they’d all been to college and earned a ton of money in the city. They’d wonder what she was doing with some unemployed grunt with a crippled leg.

She said they’d only care that she was happy, but even that was a comment that cut me to the core, because I knew how fucking miserable she’d been when I’d been giving her crap. And I also knew she’d been talking to them. I didn’t blame her for that, but with everything stacked against me, I was pretty sure they’d hate my guts. I would if I were her friends.

Yeah, I was a pessimistic son of a bitch.

But there was something else that I hadn’t told Caro because it would upset her; they sounded exactly like the kind of women I used to hit on when I was single—tough, career women who told themselves they’d never fall for me—older women who reminded me of Caro.

Shit, it was going to be a long day.

As soon as we heard a car pull up, Caro leaned out the window, waving and looking excited. I wanted her to be happy, but I couldn’t help muttering, “Incoming.”

She ignored me and ran out the door. I stayed standing in the living room, not sure what to do. I guess I thought it would be best if I let her greet her friends by herself.

They started squawking before they’d even climbed out of the car.

“Oh my God! It’s so good to see you, Lee!”

It kinda pissed me off that they called her ‘Lee’, as well.

“You’ve lost weight, beotch!” one of them shrieked.

“I’ve brought chocolate and champagne,” said another.

Thank fuck there were only three of them.

And then one of them screamed at a level that sent dogs barking.

“Omigod! Omigod! Is that what I think it is?”

I glanced through the window, sizing up the enemy. I could see they were all staring at Caro’s engagement ring. Then I heard her quiet voice.

“You guys are all invited to a wedding in the Fall.”

Then there was more screeching and hugging and shit. The screaming was making me tense. It was too much like … I blocked it out.

I was still standing in the middle of the living room when Caro walked in with her friends. She introduced everyone calmly, and they pretended they weren’t judging me already.

Nicole was the chick I’d talked to when we were in Italy. She was the rich bitch banker—and the one with voice like nails on a chalkboard.

Jenna was the attorney and her eyes narrowed when she saw me, probably wondering if she’d seen me in front of the judge.

Only the one named Alice looked as though she’d give me the benefit of the doubt. I think Caro said she was a professor at NYU. She probably thought I was dumber than dirt.

But then I caught Nicole checking me out. Gotta say that felt pretty good—it had been a while.

They all sat down, looking more at ease in Caro’s living room than I did. I was marooned in the middle of the floor and I’d left my walking stick by my chair. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I limped across the room, praying I wouldn’t fall over, feeling their eyes all over me. Then I collapsed into my chair and everyone went quiet. It was fucking painful. But Caro came and sat on the arm of my chair, leaning against me, so I could rest my hand on her knee. I needed to be able to touch her, and I think she knew that.