“Look, I can’t let you go—”
“You can go to hell,” I hollered over my shoulder as the door closed behind me, and I heard him mutter something about he probably would now.
He had balls, I’d give him that. Big ones, and I should know.
I charged down the street, too furious to care if anyone saw me coming out of the bar this late at night. A bolt of lightning lit up the black, starless, late May sky, followed by a crack of thunder so loud it shook the ground. I marched on, fearlessly, feeling the same storm raging within me…until a gust of wind carrying the threat of summer and the dewy scent of rain whipped me in the face.
How had this happened?
I hadn’t set out to have amazing pool table sex with Matt, it just sort of happened. Two consenting adults had world-rocking physical contact. I sighed, my shoulders relaxing slightly as some of the anger and tension oozed out. He might be acting like an ass now, but I had to admit he’d been upset over me mentioning the clover tattoo. I couldn’t blame him, but he wouldn’t let me explain.
And then he’d made matters worse by sticking his foot in his mouth several times, insulting my character. If he knew my ex, he would know exactly why I was divorced. Why did the sex with Matt have to be incredible? I’d felt so connected to him, and it had been much more than a physical connection. I wasn’t prepared to put a name to what I had felt; but whatever it was, it had been real.
Not up to his standards?
A bit of indignation crept back up my spine, snapping my shoulders straight. Who the hell did he think he was? He was obviously looking for the perfect woman. With today’s divorce rate, he wasn’t likely to find her. I had news for him. She didn’t exist. Not that I wanted to be her. No way in hell. I’d been down that road, and it hadn’t been pretty. I liked living my life on my own terms, with no one but myself to think about. I pursed my lips.
Then why was I so angry…so hurt?
Pain pulsed behind my temples from too much thinking and too many martinis. Not to mention getting a little too cozy with my good friend Dom. At the end of the street, I unlocked the door to my shop and was about to march up the stairs to my apartment.
Most of the businesses in Mayflower were set in old houses with apartments upstairs. It cut down on the need for overdevelopment—something this small New England town was dead set against. Suddenly, I felt the presence of someone behind me. I didn’t have to turn around to know who followed.
Matt.
I sighed, knowing in my heart he was a good and decent man. He just lived in the stone ages, and I couldn’t risk getting hurt any further. I glanced over my shoulder and met his gaze. He stood there larger than life with his hands fisted at his sides, the wind whipping his blond curls about his head like some Viking from long ago, standing strong and proud as he prepared to do battle. Then a solemn expression swept over his face, and the fight went out of him as the first fat raindrops pattered against the hard ground.
We’d both said things we’d never normally say, but we couldn’t take them back now. He slipped his hands in his jean pockets and his shoulders drooped slightly, his eyes saying it all. He was sorry. Well, so was I, but that didn’t change the fact that we both wanted entirely different things. He was right. What was the point of pursuing something that could lead only to heartache, even if the electricity still sizzled between us?
There was no point.
I wasn’t ready to share my life, didn’t know if I would ever be, and Matt seemed to sense that, which was a good thing. Because had we started something, I didn’t know if I would have been strong enough to walk away. I opened the door while I still could, shutting it and him firmly behind me.
I didn’t need Matt. I didn’t need any man. And so far, turning forty had been eventful, not boring, same as any other age. I took comfort in that. I shook my head and allowed myself a small smile. And here I had been worried.
Silly me for thinking my life was about to change.
“How did this happen?” I whispered one week later, blowing my raw nose and dabbing at eyes that felt like someone had thrown sand in them.
“It will get better, I promise.” Zoe squeezed my hand. “Give yourself time.”
“Right now, I don’t feel like I’ll ever get over this kind of heartache.” My lips trembled. “Do you realize how different my life will be now?”
“It sucks, I know, Babe.” Harmony patted my shoulder from behind me. “But we all saw this coming.”
“At least she’s at peace now.” Morticia stepped up to flank my other side.
“She looks great.” I stared down into the plush gold-and-white casket, and fresh tears rolled down my cheeks. “You know how much Grammy’s appearance meant to her, and you made her look fabulous. I can’t thank you enough for that.” I walked down the aisle away from the casket, needing some distance and wanting to give others a chance to pay their respects.
“You’re welcome. Dad did a nice job with the calling hours, I thought.” Morti and the others followed close by my side.
“The flowers are beautiful. This town really loved Eugenia Eisenhower, that much was evident.” Zoe’s eyes grew misty. She took a deep breath. “I love this church.”
“You’re lucky they love you.” Harm chuckled. “I still don’t think Sister Mary Agnes has recovered from the time your darling daughter used the vibrator she named Snaky to mix the cake batter that you were going to serve at their party. Wonder if they’ll ask you to plan this year’s Sisters of Sacred Heart Banquette.”
My lips tipped up at the corners, remembering our trip to Adult World in Boston. It had been fun shocking Zoe. The best part had been when her cell phone had vibrated next to Katy’s Barbie microphone, the whole congregation had gasped, thinking she’d brought Snaky to the Sunday service. I giggled.
That had been priceless.
“Well, it never would have happened if you guys hadn’t bought me the ridiculous two-headed monstrosity.” Zoe’s face paled. “Like I would ever use that even when you all thought I needed one, which I didn’t by the way.”
“She’s still in denial.” Morti laughed.
“I’m not in denial. I’m the only smart one to know that thing is just plain freaky.” Zoe shuddered. “Besides, now I have Chaz who doesn’t need any help in thoroughly satisfying me, thank the Lord.”
I actually laughed out loud over that one. “And thank you all for cheering me up.” I smiled at each of them. “I don’t know what I’d do without any of you, so please don’t go MIA on me anytime soon. I can’t handle any more change in my life right now.”
“Can you handle me?” said a male voice behind me, and my stomach dropped down to my black patent leather toes.
What the hell was he doing here?
Inhaling deep, I willed all my anxiety to form in my lungs, and then exhaled the stress on a long slow breath. Thank God for yoga, meditation, and massage. Pasting on a neutral expression, I turned around and looked down my nose at the dark-haired, dark-eyed scum bucket behind me.
Still as handsome as ever, but pure ugliness resided within.
“Bud Grant, what on earth are you doing here?” Thank God for two-inch heels. My ex-husband was only five-foot-eleven when he stood up straight and wasn’t trying to fake a bad back. Being six feet with my shoes on put me at least one inch above him.
