As Tears Go By (2 page)

Holy
Hannah, was he actually agreeing to this insanity? Did single adults really behave
this way? “Uhhh…” Passing out was a definite possibility. Her belly flipped
with anxious bravadoes and a touch of fear. What if he was a serial killer?
What if he was the next Jeffery Dahmer? Was she insane? She could
not
do
this! Her feet shifted back a step but his fingers remained closed over hers.
“Actually—”

“Because
my apartment’s right around the corner if you’d rather go there.”

Her
mouth snapped shut.

“Is
that your friend over there?” he asked. “She looks like she’s leaving.”

Her
head twisted and Nikki was indeed paying the check and grabbing her purse, a
satisfied smirk on her face. She ambled over to the man’s table and extended
her hand. “Hi. I’m Nikki.”

Braydon
finally released Becca and shook Nikki’s hand. “I’m Braydon.”

“Nice
to meet you, Braydon. I just wanted to let you know my brother’s a cop and my
husband’s an investigator. Becca here is my best friend and I love her very
much. I also collect samurai swords and know how to use them. I work in real
estate, so I know lots of abandoned properties that would be great for getting
rid of a body in a pinch. I think you and Becca are going to have buckets of
fun tonight, but I’m gonna need your ID until she’s safely returned to me.”

Braydon’s
expression was blank. It probably matched Becca’s. Nikki had the biggest heart
in the world. She was a tiny thing and had no problem showing the world that
little things could pack a lot of excitement. Sort of like an atomic bomb, one
measly spec of nothing, cut it open and—
Boom!—
there was crap everywhere.
Nikki packed a bit more punch than that.

Braydon’s
cobalt eyes roamed over Nikki’s small frame and his mouth twitched as he
chuckled. “You’re serious?”

Nikki
tipped her head in agreement and held out her palm. “As an enema. Hand it over,
sweet cheeks, and your wish is Becca’s command.”

“Nikki!”

She
ignored her. Leaning forward, her friend stage whispered to Braydon, “Did she
mention she took years of yoga? Those legs can bend in ways you’ve never seen.”

Braydon
reached in his pocket and placed his driver’s license on the table. A small
squeak escaped Becca’s throat as she stared in shock as Nikki pocketed his ID.

“Awesomesauce.
You kids have fun now. Call me in the morning, Becs.” And with that she skipped
off, tapping over her pocket holding Braydon’s identity.

Becca
slowly pivoted and glanced at Braydon. “She was my ride.”

He
grinned. “I like her.”

Becca
laughed, sort of hollow-like. “She eats guys like you for breakfast.”

He
stood and slipped his arm around her waist, startling her as he drew her body
close to his. “I don’t scare easily.” Oh, he was warm and much taller than
Kevin. Pressing his mouth to her hair, he whispered, “But it’s a good thing I
have you to keep me safe until morning.”

God, he
smelled so good her body shivered. Or was that a quiver of fear? Perhaps the
kind someone suffers before they enter the secret lair of a mass murderer.
 

“Shall
we go?”

Holy
crap on a stick she was really going to do this. Blinking dumbly, a stab of
something like her resurrected courage gave her a swift kick in the ass. Heck
yeah, she was going to do this—after she found a pillow to scream into, of
course.

Closing
her eyes, she breathed and issued a fast mental pep talk. She deserved this
after everything she’d been through over the years. This was her reward, her
due, and her duty to women everywhere.

When
she looked into his eyes again, the fanfare and trumpets playing in her head
dwindled to a sound resembling a deflating balloon. How was she ever going to
go through with this?

*
* * *

Braydon
turned the key and his apartment door clicked open. Placing his hand on Becca’s
back, he escorted her inside. “Can I get you something to drink? Wine? Beer?
Whiskey?”

She
stood awkwardly, shifting as if she wasn’t sure what to do—accept or bolt. Her
slight fidgeting told him she was nervous enough for the both of them. It
wasn’t like beautiful women frequently propositioned him.

Pale
blonde hair caught the light. A narrow headband held the flaxen strands away
from her face. Give her a pair of patent leather Mary Janes and she’d be a
grown up Alice in Wonderland. Nothing about her fit a woman familiar with
propositioning strange men in a bar. Yet here she was.

“I’ll
just have some water if you don’t mind.”

Braydon
went to the fridge and removed a bottle. Taking down a glass from the stainless
wall rack, he tried to ease some of the awkwardness. “So…how long were you
married?”

“Too
long.” A nervous laugh hiccupped past her lips and she blushed. “Um, a little
over ten years.”

Passing
her the water, she tipped it back, taking steady sips until the glass was
empty. “Your place is nice. Clean.”

“Thanks.”

The
condo was nice, but not home. It wasn’t what he wanted long-term. Being an
architect, he hoped to one day build his own house. There was plenty of
property back home in Center County to build on, but he worked out of
Pittsburgh, which complicated things. Settling down was, luckily, a long way
off. Still, he’d been saving for that moment since he started working.

When he
was younger, he imagined himself married right out of college. He’d even found
a woman he thought was the perfect girl. Only problem…she up and married his
brother. That was something that left a man a bit jaded and stuck in neutral.

His
attention returned to his guest. “Can I take your coat?”

Becca
shifted and slowly drew her arms out of the sleeves. After folding the thin
wool jacket twice, she passed it to him. Carrying the coat to the wall, he hung
it next to his. Not quite sure what was going to happen here, he played it
casual, but certainly hoped she’d be removing more than her coat.

“So…”

“So…”
she echoed.

He sat
on the couch and waved a hand for her to follow. Perching on the edge of the
farthest cushion, she sat like she had a dowel up her ass. “You can relax. I’m
not going to attack you.”

“Oh, I know
that.”

“Do
you?”

“Well,
no, not really. But you seem polite.”

Chuckling,
he said, “My mum would be glad to hear that.” He eased back, trying to make her
a bit more comfortable. “Do you usually proposition strangers at bars?”

She
snorted. “No.” It was a completely unladylike sound, but he found it charming.

“Yet
you propositioned me. Why?”

Drawing
in a deep breath, she explained, “It’s a long story. You met Nikki. She made me
do it.”

“Why?”

Her
expression tightened as if she were hosting some sort of mental debate. “Do you
ever think
this is my life
and then—
pow
!—y
ou
realize everything you based your existence on was a crappy lie?”

“Yes.”

Her
surprise was evident as his response caused her gaze to jerk to his. “Really?”

“Yup,
but I want to hear your story first. Did your husband cheat on you?”

“You
could say that. I caught him having sex with our neighbor in our bed.
Apparently she wasn’t the first.”

Luckily,
no one had ever truly cheated on him. Well, not really. “How long were you
together?”

“Since
high school.”

That
was a long time. “Have you ever been with anyone else?”

“No.
It’s always been him. And according to Nikki, our love life was a joke.”

“Why? I
mean, aside from the other women.”

Her
lips pursed. “If you were married—
Oh, God
—you aren’t, right?”

He
laughed. “No. Never been married.”

“Oh,
well, if you were, how often would you…you know…?”

“Fuck
my wife?”

Her
eyes widened.

He
chuckled. “Sorry. I figured, under the circumstances, we could talk plainly.
How often would my spouse and I make love?”

“On
average.”

He
considered this for a minute. “Probably four to five times a week. If we had
children I’m sure that would change slightly, but I’d at least want to…make
love to her a couple times a week.”

“A
week?”

“Yeah.
How often did you and your husband make love?”

Her
pale cheeks turned deep pink as she looked away. “Not that often.”

“A
couple times a month?”

“Try a
year.”

His
brows shot up, pulling his face tight. “Was your husband gay?”

“What?
No!”

He
laughed, astounded. “I’m sorry, it’s just…have you seen you? You’re a ten.”

“A
ten?”

He
didn’t want to come off like a creep, but the minute she’d introduced herself
he’d, of course, perused her assets. Her high, full breasts looked to be a
large B or small C. Her hips swelled at all the right places and her legs went
on for days. Plus, she had the whole innocent Alice thing going for her. Give
her an aproned dress and a sign that said “Eat Me” and he was going to
Wonderland.

“Trust
me, you’re very attractive.”

Her
sensuous little mouth twitched into a nervous smile. “Thank you. You’re very
handsome.”

Braydon
grinned. “So…do you want to tell me what smurf sex is?”

“Ohmygod…”
Her face fell into her palms. “I’m going to kill Nikki.”

“Why?”

“Because
this is all her fault. I didn’t even know what smurf sex was until an hour
ago.”

Though
he didn’t know much about her, she was highly entertaining. Such capriciousness
usually faded in women her age. He laughed. “I still don’t know.”

“It’s
when you…” She waved her hand in repetitious circles.

“Fuck?”

She
made a sound of distaste and scrunched her nose.

“Make
love?”

“Yes.
Until you’re blue in the face.”

His
head tipped back and laughter bellowed from his chest. “So you just spent the
last decade having religious sex and now you’re going for smurf?”

Her
brow crinkled. “We didn’t have religious sex.”

“Sure
you did. Got
nun
in the morning and
nun
at night.”

Her
mouth opened and she looked offended, but the truth was the truth. “Well, it
wasn’t always like that. In the end it turned into hallway sex.”

“What’s
hallway sex?”

“We’d
only pass each other in the hall and I’d say
screw you.”
Her eyes
twinkled, her disposition no longer showing offense.

Now he
was really laughing. “Well, I hope you at least had good courtroom sex and
screwed the shit out of him during the divorce.”

Her
mouth tightened in a little smirk and the slightest chirp of laughter slipped
out. Her fingers covered her lips as the chirps turned to giggles and then a
snort snuck out.

“You
have a great laugh.”

She
sobered and lowered her gaze to the floor. “I shouldn’t be laughing about my
marriage ending.”

“It’s
okay to laugh about it, Becca.”

Her
returning smile was shy at first, then beautiful, like a flower coming into
bloom. “It was terrible,” she softly confessed. “Sometimes I wasn’t even sure
if he was awake or if he’d fallen asleep on me. Do you have any idea what it’s
like to be almost thirty and not know what certain things feel like?”

His
amusement faded. “What do you mean?”

Apparently
startled by her own words, her expression paled. “Nothing. Never mind.”

“No.
Tell me.”

Her
head lowered and she flicked a speck of lint off her jeans. “It was always the
same, nothing fancy, and never with the lights on.”

Looking
at her, seeing her delicate profile and the feminine way she held herself, it
was actually quite tragic this beautiful creature had been so neglected. “Did
he at least make sure you…?” He censored his language, gathering she wasn’t
used to crass words.

The
corners of her mouth pulled tight in a sad smile, and she slowly shook her
head.

Jesus.
Who the hell was her husband and what was wrong with him? He considered their
situation. Although
she
was the one to put the offer on the table, once
he discovered how timid she was, he assumed they wouldn’t go through with it.
But now...

It was
an absolute tragedy that this woman didn’t know what good sex was. “Did you
really intend to sleep with me?”

Her
head snapped up and she gawked at him. Somehow, after all this, he’d managed to
embarrass her. Her voice quavered. “Oh, you don’t have to. I can go if—”