Stumbling Into Love

  So this afternoon, I called and talked to Dustin’s mom and dad. They had told me before that what happened to Dustin wasn’t my fault, but today was the first time I really heard them. I have been carrying around so much guilt, so much self-hate. From the beginning of our friendship, I was always Dustin’s protector. He was the smaller, weaker one of the two of us, so it was my job to look out for him and to keep him safe. It had always been that way, from the day we met, when I stepped in and protected him from a couple of older kids who were picking on him. After that, we became best friends and were inseparable. I knew that he would always be in my life, and I would always be in his. We would probably name our kids after each other and force our wives to be best friends because we were. There would never be a time when we didn’t have each other.

  I close my eyes and remind myself that I can’t go back or dwell on what could have been. Dustin wouldn’t want that for me. If he knew the way I have been pushing everyone away since his death, he’d probably kick my ass. I know for sure he’d kick my ass if he knew about Mackenzie and the way I dismissed her feelings and her concern.

  I pull out the first object in the box that my hands touch, and I smile when I see it’s a photo of Dustin and me in our uniforms. We were twenty and had both just graduated from the academy. We thought we knew everything at that moment, but we learned quickly that we didn’t know anything. Our first year on the force was the hardest and most fulfilling of them all. It taught us a lot about the men we were becoming. Setting the framed photo on the shelf, I spend the rest of the day unpacking box after box.

  It’s after eleven at night when I finally finish, but I can’t sleep. All I can think about is tomorrow, when I plan on winning my woman back. I just pray that she accepts my apology. If she doesn’t, I will just have to kidnap her and tie her to my bed.

  Chapter 13

  A FRESH START

  MAC

  After the buzzer in my office goes off, I press the button to unlock the door and then pop a few more Tums in my mouth. On top of not sleeping and morning sickness, I have such bad heartburn that I have been eating Tums like candy.

  “Knock, knock.”

  Seriously? I inwardly groan when Edward walks through my office door wearing a smile that makes me want to punch him in the face.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, trying to be polite. I’m honestly way too tired to play nice with anyone right now.

  “Hello to you, too.” He grins. “I thought I would stop by and see if you wanted to have lunch. I haven’t seen or heard from you since New Year’s.”

  “I’ve been a little busy.” I sit back in my chair, praying the antacid works soon.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Everything’s fine,” I lie. He studies me closely but doesn’t say anything. He knows me well enough to pick up on the fact that I’m lying.

  “Well, then, come on. Grab your coat, and let’s go eat.” I don’t want to say yes, but then again I also don’t want to spend the hour before my next client arrives sitting around feeling sorry for myself. I did that yesterday and the day before—and the day before that. The fact that Wesley hasn’t called me in three days bothers me more than I want to admit. I mean, I wouldn’t have answered if he had called, but he still should have called me. Then again, maybe the pregnancy is turning me into a crazy person.

  “Are you coming?” Edward asks, snapping me back into the present.

  “Fine.” I grab my coat and my purse, and we head across the street to the deli. After ordering sandwiches, we take them to a table at the back and sit across from each other at a high-top table.

  “How are things with you and Wesley?” he asks as we start to eat.

  I finish chewing and swallow before I answer, “Okay.” I’m intentionally vague because I don’t want to start myself crying.

  “Just okay? You two looked pretty in love on New Year’s Eve. What happened since then?”

  “We have both been busy. What’s going on with you?”

  “Work. The housing market has picked back up, so I’m busy most days.”

  “That’s a good thing, right?”

  “I need to pay for a wedding, so yeah—it’s a good thing,” he says.

  My stomach twists.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Ask away.” He takes an unconcerned drink from his soda and a bite from his sandwich.

  “Why are you cheating on Bonnie?”

  “I’m not.”

  “I heard you on the phone that day in my office. You were meeting another woman for sex—unless that was how Bonnie and you role-play. Or unless I misunderstood the whole conversation.”

  “It wasn’t Bonnie,” he says, balling up his napkin and tossing it into his empty sandwich basket.

  “So you were talking to another woman?” I ask.

  He nods.

  “Why are you marrying Bonnie, then?”

  “I love her.”

  “Do you?” I whisper, feeling sad for them.

  “We have an open relationship,” he says.

  I blink at him. “Pardon?”

  “Bonnie and I have an open relationship.”

  “Do you mean you guys are swingers?”

  “Yeah.” He runs his hand through his hair. “I love Bonnie, but I like other women, too. I just don’t feel the same about them as I do her,” he says.

  I feel my lip curl up. I mean, to each their own, but there is no way I could live like that.

  “Wow.”

  “That’s why I never went there with you,” he says.

  I sit back in my chair. “What?”

  “I knew you wanted to be more than friends, but let’s be honest. You would never be okay with my lifestyle. So as much as I wanted to be with you, I knew I couldn’t go there with you.”

  “Seriously?”

  “I didn’t want to risk losing our friendship,” he says.

  I shake my head. I can’t believe I’m hearing any of this.

  “I was going to send Bonnie an anonymous note to tell her you were an asshole and that you were cheating on her,” I say.

  He tosses his head back and laughs. “She would have gotten a kick out of that.”

  “I bet.” I rub my hands over my face. I can’t believe this. I guess I can, but still. “Well, this lunch has been enlightening,” I say.

  He smiles and stands up, and I do the same. Tossing my trash away, I walk him to the door, then back across the street to my office. I’m at a loss for words.

  “Are we okay?” he asks, opening his arms to me.

  I roll my eyes at him. “Yeah, we are okay.”

  “Good.” He hugs me tighter before letting me go. “Also, if you and Wesley ever do decide that you want to try out a different lifestyle, let me know. Bonnie is a little crazy about your man, and I wouldn’t mind—”

  “Never going to fucking happen.”

  My heart drops into my stomach when the voice I love so much cracks through my office.

  I spin around to face Wesley. Wesley, who looks a little scary and a whole lot handsome standing in my doorway.

  “You will never, ever touch her.” He glares at Edward before looking at me and softening his expression and tone. “Right, gorgeous?”

  “Ugh . . .” I blink. “Right.” I swallow.

  “I figured that,” Edward says.

  I look at him just in time to catch the goofy smile he’s wearing.

  “I’ll see you around. Maybe the four of us can do dinner sometime.”

  “Probably not,” Wesley mutters at the same time I say, “Maybe.”

  I shrug, ignoring Wesley and his bristling. Edward kisses my cheek.

  “We’ll talk soon,” he says. He looks at Wesley. “See you around, man.”

  “Hmm,” Wesley grunts in response, watching Edward go.

  Pulling my eyes from him, I wrap my arms around myself and take a few deep breaths before turning to look at him.

  “What are you doing here??
??

  “I came to talk to you,” he says, studying me from head to toe like he’s memorizing every inch of me.

  “About what?” I ask, not willing to get my hopes up.

  “About everything.”

  “Everything?” I narrow my eyes, and he tucks his hands into the front pocket of his jeans. The move makes him look like a scared little kid.

  “I messed up.”

  “I know,” I agree.

  There is no sense in coddling him—he did mess up. But then again, maybe we both messed up. He should have talked to me, and I shouldn’t have run off because I was afraid.

  Looking around my office, he shakes his head. “Are you busy now?”

  “I have a client coming in soon, but it’s my last one of the day.”

  “Will you come over to my place tonight so we can talk?” he asks.

  I swallow over the lump forming in my throat.

  “I don’t know if your place is the best place for us to talk. We tend to end up in bed whenever we’re there,” I tell him quietly.

  I see him clench his jaw.

  “Right.” He runs a hand roughly through his hair. “I’ll meet you wherever you want to meet.”

  “There’s a frozen-yogurt place across the street. How about we meet there in two hours?” I say.

  Relief fills his eyes and his body relaxes.

  “That’s fine with me,” he agrees, taking a step toward me.

  My whole body goes on alert. I know the minute he touches me, I’m done for, so I can’t let him touch me until we’ve talked and have gotten things sorted out.

  “I miss you.” The words sound pained, and it takes all my willpower not to go to him to soothe him—to soothe myself.

  “Me too,” I croak as my throat fills with tears.

  “I’ll see you soon, gorgeous.”

  “Sure.” I watch him go. Closing my eyes, I pray that he’s ready to open up to me. I don’t know how much longer I can hold out.

  WESLEY

  As I wait on the sidewalk for Mackenzie to show up, my stomach fills with anxiety. The idea that she might not forgive me is something I can’t handle. Seeing her come across the street toward me, I soak in everything about her. Her hair is up like it normally is when she’s working; her face is clean of makeup, allowing her natural beauty to shine through; and she’s wearing a long jacket that covers her from neck to knee so I can’t see if her body has changed in the past week.

  Jogging toward her, I meet her halfway across the street, then take her hand. “Hey.”

  She smiles up at me, and all I can think is, God she’s so beautiful, and I have missed her so much.

  With her hand in mine, we enter the frozen-yogurt shop. I wish it was farther away so I could keep my hold on her a little longer.

  “Do you want to get some yogurt?” she asks me as she gets herself a big cup.

  I shake my head. I just want to watch her. “I might have some of yours.”

  “No,” she says bluntly as she pulls down the lever for chocolate. “I have been craving this for the last couple days. If you try to take any from my container, I might attack you,” she says, making me smile.

  “Are the cravings that bad?”

  “This was the first time I’ve had one,” she says softly.

  Once again, I curse myself for having missed out on time with her.

  “Have you had any other symptoms?” I ask, trying to remember what the book I got said happens in the first couple of months.

  “I’ve had morning sickness, and heartburn so bad that I might have to buy stock in Tums,” she says.

  Every word makes me feel like shit. I should have been there to take care of her through this. Instead, I’ve been . . .

  “Stop.” Her hand presses into my chest, cutting off my wayward thoughts.

  I drop my eyes to hers.

  “Please stop.”

  Her words are soft, and I swear she knows where my mind is taking me.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

  “Me too,” she says quietly, finishing up her serving and heading toward the cashier. I pull out my card to pay—noticing that the frozen yogurt is overflowing the container—then lead her to the back of the store, where there is no one around.

  “What did you want to talk to me about?” she asks.

  I can see the doubt in her eyes. I can tell she doesn’t think I will open up to her.

  “My best friend from childhood was also my partner back in Seattle,” I tell her.

  The spoon in her hand pauses an inch from her mouth.

  “We had so many plans for the future. Then, one day, that was all taken from me.”

  “What happened?” she asks.

  I close my eyes, remembering the day like it was yesterday.

  “We were on a routine drug bust. After we got into the house and had already made our arrest, we started collecting evidence. Suddenly, gunshots started going off. We all dropped, not knowing that we were setting ourselves up for disaster. None of my team realized that the shots were being fired from a man hiding in the attic—until it was too late. I took three bullets to the shoulder, but not before seeing Dustin take a bullet to the head. He died right in front of me,” I say.

  Tears fill her eyes.

  “I blamed myself for his death. I had always protected him, but I didn’t protect him when it really mattered.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.” She wipes her eyes.

  “I know.” I gasp in anticipation as she stands up from her chair.

  She slides into my lap—where she belongs, and where she will always belong.

  “I should have opened up to you, gorgeous. You were right. I should have talked to you. I should have trusted you with everything. I was afraid you would think I was weak and a coward because that’s what I have been telling myself I am for so long.”

  “You’re the strongest guy I know. You could never be weak.” She rests her lips against mine. “I’m so sorry for leaving. I shouldn’t have left.”

  “I’m not.” I kiss her because I can, because I’ve missed being able to kiss her when I want. “I wouldn’t have dealt with my issues if you hadn’t left. I would have continued to ignore it all, like I had been doing.” I push her hair back out of her face. “Because of you, I finally got the closure I needed. And I finally heard what Dustin’s parents have been trying to tell me for a long time.”

  “I’m glad you got that,” she says, running her fingers up my jaw and into my hair. “I love you. You know that, right?” she asks.

  I press my forehead to hers, wondering how the hell I came to deserve her.

  “I know. I don’t know why the fuck you love me, but I’m glad you do.”

  “I love you because you love me just the way I am. I love you because you make me feel special, because you make me laugh, you make my soul happy . . . and because you give me really great orgasms.”

  She says the last bit quietly, and I smile.

  “I do, don’t I?” I say smugly.

  She laughs. “Yeah, you do.” She shifts her fingers through my hair once again, studying me.

  “Are we okay?”

  “Yes.” She kisses my cheek. “Now let me finish my yogurt.”

  She gets off my lap and takes a seat across from me.

  “What was that whole thing with Edward about?” I ask.

  She drops her spoon and covers her face, cracking up. Eventually she pulls herself together enough to tell me. When she does, I’m the one who can’t stop laughing.

  “Oh my god. Hurry.” Mackenzie jumps up and down at my side as I put the key in the lock.

  “It’s hard to focus when your tits are bouncing around like that,” I say. She smacks my chest and laughs. “There you go.”

  I open the door, and she runs into my apartment ahead of me, straight for the bathroom. Shutting the door, I drop my keys and the pizza on the table. I take off my jacket and hang it on the back of a chair.

  When she comes out of
the bathroom, she freezes in place and then swings her head around the living room.

  “You unpacked.”

  “I did.”

  She does a circuit around the living room, looking at the photos and all the stuff that is now out and on display.

  “You two looked like you were troublemakers,” she whispers, stopping in front of one of the pictures of Dustin and me. In the photo, we’re playing cards with a few other guys—unbeknownst to them, the two of us were cheating everyone else at the table and winning.

  “We were trouble.” I laugh.

  “I think I would have liked him. He had kind eyes,” she says.

  My eyes burn with unshed tears.

  “You would have liked him, but he would have liked you more. He loved women—all women,” I say. She laughs, turning to look at me over her shoulder.

  “Thank you for sharing him with me.”

  Her words hit me in the chest and gut at the same time, making it almost impossible to breathe. I should have told her about him a long time ago. I should have known that she would help me heal. If anyone could, I should have known it would be her.

  “You’re welcome, gorgeous.” I take her hand and pull her toward me. “I went and talked to your dad.”

  “You went and talked to my dad?” she repeats, looking nervous. “Why?”

  “Because I respect him. Because I wanted his opinion on what to do about you.”

  “Okay. Was everything okay? What did he tell you?” she asks, biting her bottom lip.

  “It was fine.” I tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. “He told me to trust you.”

  “To trust me?” She frowns, looking confused.

  “He told me to trust you to heal me. I should have known that you would do that without having to have him tell me,” I say.

  Her eyes soften, then narrow.

  “What are you not telling me about your meeting?”

  “I told him that you are pregnant,” I admit.

  Her eyes get wide. “You told my dad I was pregnant?” she whispers, looking stunned.