Divine (9 page)

Fuck!

“Hey, Jim,” Sally yelled to the bartender.
“How about two horny bulls?”

“You got it,” he shouted back.

“You’ll love it.” Sally’s voice dripped with
desire and promises. “By the time you drink a shot or two of vodka,
tequila, and rum, you’ll feel like a horny bull. Whoever is messing
with your head,” she said and pressed her finger to his temple,
“will adios.”

Jim plopped two drinks onto the counter.

“Two more.” Sally held up two fingers.

“You sure your guy can handle it? He’s not a
regular.”

He didn’t drink much, but tonight he’d
consider it. “I’m good.”

The alcohol burned. The oak taste warmed his
veins, like putting a protective layer around his heart. The next
shot went down smooth, and his head buzzed. “Ready to dance?” Not
waiting for her to respond, he threw a twenty on the bar, latched
onto her hand, and maneuvered around the crowd to the dance
floor.

They squeezed into a spot on the dance floor.
Barefoot, she pressed her body into his, and slid her lips along
his throat.

He wrapped a hand around her back and nudged
her even closer. He wanted this, sex— hard and fast. For the first
time, he cared less about his reckless, meaningless behavior and
didn’t worry about the consequences.

Her leg moved between his as they stepped in
tune with the beat.

With each move, her thigh pressed into his
groin. He cupped her butt and pressed his lips to hers.

The woman melted and purred.

His fucking dick didn’t take the hint.

This was Trina’s fault. Whenever she came
close, his body stirred. Hell, he watched her across the room and
got a throbbing hard-on. This afternoon, before she dumped the
bomb, he possessed one.

He pulled Sally closer, felt her nipples
poking him, and…nothing! No excitement! No thrill.

“Matt!” His brother’s deep voice drew his
attention. Travis’ hardened features and dark clothes urged people
to sidestep him, either out of respect or out of fear from the
badass attitude.

“How’d you find me?”

“You didn’t answer your phone.”

“Huh?” He hadn’t heard it.

“So I tracked you.” Travis said.

A master at tracking people for a living; of
course he found him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Not like this, man.” Travis’ warning tone
irked him. “You’ll never forgive yourself.”

Sally put distance between them, considered
him, then Travis. “What is he talking about?”

He had enough booze in his system not to care
how crazed he sounded. “He doesn’t want me to fuck you.” And then
because he liked pissing his brother off, he added, “He’ll get
jealous.”

“He’s… you’re... okay.” Sally put a finger to
her lips. “Um, you shocked me.”

“We’re not nothing,” Travis snapped. “Except
my little brother needs to get the hell out of here.”

“Always the parent,” he shot back.

“Don’t,” Travis used his big brother
authoritative tone.

“Come on, Matt.”

He focused on the new voice joining the mix.
Trina’s brother, Bradley Lovett. “Perfect!”

The people on the dance floor allowed them a
wide berth, but they didn’t leave.

Sweat covered his forehead and his nostrils
flared. Every bit the bull Sally mentioned, he let his fury shove
aside his forced horniness and challenged the trader. “You were my
friend,” he growled as he stepped forward and poked a finger into
Bradley’s chest. “Why didn’t you call to let me know she’s engaged?
She’s your sister but hell, I would have called you.”

Bradley caught his finger and bent it
backwards.

He drew back his free arm and let loose a
blow to Bradley’s face. Travis moved quickly, but not fast enough
to stop his fist from connecting to Bradley’s eye.

“Get out,” Jim, the bartender yelled. “Or
I’ll call the police.”

“I got em.” Travis twisted Matt’s arm behind
his back and nudged him forward.

“Search and rescue saves the day,” he
taunted, sobering immediately. “Always the champion.”

“Shut your trap! I could lose my job. So
could you.” Travis shoved him out the door with Bradley
following.

The evening air slapped him in the face,
dissipating the alcoholic fog. “Why are you here, anyway?” he
asked, entangling himself from his brother’s hold.

“Trina’s worried about you,” Bradley
said.

“So worried, she shut me out of her
fu-u-cking life!” he shouted, rage stinging his throat.

“It wasn’t like that.”

“And you,” he seethed and closed the distance
between him and Bradley, “didn’t say a word.” He spit on the ground
at his ex-friend’s feet.

“I can’t get between you two.”

“Pussy!”

Bradley’s hands fisted. Good. He wanted to
knock the shit out of someone. “Bring it on.”

“Not here,” Travis ordered. “If you two
insist on acting like juvenile delinquents, take it out of
sight.”

“Let’s go,” he said, following the sidewalk
to… he didn’t fucking know where.

“She’s inside.” Bradley’s voice aired on the
side of uncertainty. “She phoned from Molly’s Café, worried. I
called your brother to help search for you.”

He went rigid, his thoughts flying the
distance as if they’d crossed the ocean. Every day his desire for
her had increased. He couldn’t accept she didn’t feel the same and
wouldn’t until she looked into his eyes and admitted her feelings
for this other man. “Why?”

“Can’t answer.” Bradley stepped in front of
him. “She’s my sister. You’re my friend.”

“Was.” He corrected him.

“It’s not my place to tell either of you
anything, but like I said, she’s inside waiting to talk to
you.”

He groaned and peered at the door. Going
inside with a full head of steam might open a hell of a lot of hurt
neither he nor Trina would recover from. He needed time and space,
more from himself than her. But damn, going inside and kissing her
until she melted appealed.

His shirt pocket rung.

Travis grabbed his cell before he had a
chance. “It’s Frank Gunny.”

Groaning, he rubbed his eyes and accepted the
phone. His gunny calling wasn’t good. He pressed the talk button
and put the phone to his ear. “Sergeant Carson.”

“You’re late,” Gunny said, no teasing to his
voice.

He checked his watch. Damn, tonight he was
supposed to meet Gunny for a drink and introduce Trina. “On my
way.” He disconnected and faced Bradley. “She’s gonna have a long
wait.”

“Hey,” Cadence shouted loud enough to be
heard above the band and gripped Trina’s tricep from behind. “Where
do you think you’re going?”

“To follow them. I have to get to Matt.” She
moved past people staring at Matt and Bradley leaving. “I have to
talk to him.”

“No, you don’t.” Cadence whirled her around
by the arm. “Let your,” she lowered her voice when the band stopped
playing, “brother and Matt’s brother handle it. He needs time to
sober and cool off. You go after him, there will be no talking.
He’s upset, hurt, and won’t think rationally.”

She was right, but shit had hit the fan and
not going after him was wrong. He needed her.

“Stay,” Cadence jerked out her ringing cell
from her purse and answered it. “Okay. I will,” she said after
nodding a couple of times. She slid her phone into her purse and
pressed her lips together.

Nerves beat the inside of her belly like
angry birds. “What?”

“Sit, let’s order a drink then talk.”

Drinks?
Code for ‘what I’m about to
say will hurt.’

She dropped into a booth where a server
cleared the last dish and wiped the table.

Cadence sat across from her and rested a hand
over hers.

“Here you are,” an unfamiliar female voice
said. “Compliments of the hotties.” A server with a long ponytail
and dimples placed two half-filled glasses on the table. “These are
atomic apples. It’s a fireball and apple schnapps.”

“Hmm, my favorite.” Cadence purred and sipped
the drink. “Yum. I bet it's as yummy as the guy who ordered
them.”

Who was she talking about? “My brother? You
think Bradley is yummy?”

The server giggled, the indentions in her
cheeks grew even deeper. “All three of those guys have my vote.
Would you ladies care for something to eat, an appetizer?”

Cadence dismissed her question. “How ‘bout
it? Let’s save the day by devouring comfort food.”

Her stomach rumbled as she spotted an Italian
dish on the front of the menu. “Pasta.”

“We have an Out-of-this-World Lasagna,” the
server suggested.

“I’ll have one. Thanks.”

“I’ll take the same, and I want the BLT bites
with crab.” Cadence pointed to a table sign wedged between the wall
and salt and pepper shakers, a picture of cherry tomatoes on the
cover.

“Thank you, ladies,” the server hummed and
scooted off.

She finished her drink, clanked the glass on
the table, and eyed her friend. “Spill.”

“Matt’s on his way to meet his gunny.”

“He can’t leave.”

“He can and he has.”

They didn’t get to talk about their problems.
He couldn’t leave. “He can’t.” She tugged out her phone and punched
in his number, not relying on stored contacts.

It went straight to voicemail. “Ugh.”

“Hey,” Cadence snapped. “Clear your head, and
we’ll work on figuring out a solution tomorrow. A good drunk-on and
a good night’s sleep do wonders for figuring out problems. It
worked in college.”

That it had. “You’re right.”

“Of course I’m right.” A flicker of something
flashed over her friend’s gorgeous face before she grinned. “I’m
always right.” Cadence motioned to the server for more drinks.

In the off-chance Matt called, she set the
phone on the table. “Did I tell you with Mom’s help, Cal blocked
Matt’s number? I haven’t checked yet, but I imagine one of them
blocked his email address, too.”

The server appeared with the appetizer and
two more drinks.

She tapped her glass. “Two more when you
bring the entrees, please.”

“Certainly,” the server said and went to help
a loud customer.

She gulped the drink. “I never thought my mom
would be so underhanded,” she fretted in an attempt to stay angry.
The mad-on waned with the alcohol.

“I did.” Cadence’s tone had a disgusted,
staidly sound to it.

The band returned from break and played an
upbeat melody. She absorbed the music, letting it seep into her
mind and relax her body. Loud laughter spilled from a large group
in the rear. She giggled, forwent the silverware, and popped a
cherry tomato filled with crabmeat and cream cheese into her mouth.
Delicious flavors burst over her taste buds. “Hmm,” she moaned.
“Sorry, these are sinful.”

Cadence groaned an erotic sound.
“Delicious.”

“Sorry I keep harping. I can’t believe it,
Cal, my mom…my stupid actions.”

“Give yourself a break. You thought Matt
hadn’t tried to contact you.”

“But you knew I made a mistake.”

“I thought you had, but I didn’t know for
certain. I went for the least severe path when we talked about him
not having time to contact you. In truth, I wondered.”

“Here ya go,” the server said, interrupting
them.

Garlic, basil, cheeses, and Italian
seasonings assaulted her senses. Her mouth watered. “It smells
delicious.”

“Hence its namesake,” the server said.
“Out-of-this-World Lasagna.”

“The kitchen’s fast,” Cadence said.

“They are.” The server said and placed two
more drinks on the table. “Enjoy.”

Once the server left, Cadence said, “I got
one for ya.”

‘I got one’ meant smack for joke time. Once
Cadence started with the jokes, she wouldn’t stop. “Go.”

“A man and a woman are creating a new
password for their computer. The man inputs, ‘mypenis.’ The
computer flashes a message.” Cadence paused as she always did
before the punchline. “‘Not long enough.’”

She laughed. She couldn’t help it. “That’s
kind of funny.”

“Kind of? It’s hilarious!”

An hour and half later, lasagna eaten,
several drinks consumed, and nearly every joke in Cadence’s arsenal
giggled at, she rested in the booth and folded her hands across her
bloated stomach. “Ugh, I need sleep. My face feels puffy,” she
slurred. “I resemble one of those fish with big eyes. Remember the
one I had as a kid?”

“A dragon-eyed goldfish?”

“Yes, those.” She formed her lips in the
shape of an ‘o.’ “See.”

Amusement danced in Cadence’s eyes and her
mouth twitched. “Hey, I scheduled one of those private taxi-type
cars to pick us up. Bradley’s getting my car later.”

“You count on him as much as I do.”

“Sometimes. Come on.” Cadence tossed some
money on the table and headed for the door.

“This is my first time riding in one of these
taxi services.”

She followed Cadence into the night. A draft
blew her hair and stung her cheeks. “What are we looking for?”