Death, Taxes, and Peach Sangria (37 page)

It sounded as if he was speaking from experience. Wait,
was
he speaking from experience?

I eyed him closely. Sure, part of him looked heartbroken. But I saw something else
there. Was he also feeling relieved?

He looked at me. “I’ve got feelings for someone else, too.”

It felt as if the earth had shifted under me. I hadn’t expected this.

I gripped the bed rail. “Is it Trish?”

If he said,
Yes,
I’d strangle him with the blood pressure cuff. Please let it be anyone but that big-titted
twit!

He shook his head and thus would live to see another day. “No, it’s not Trish.”

I didn’t want to think of Brett with someone else, but at the same time I knew I had
to know. “Who, then?”

“The chef at the country club in Atlanta.”

“The one who made the spiced peaches?” I racked my bruised brain for her name. “Fiona?”

He nodded.

Huh.
Looked like the way to a man’s heart really was through his stomach.

I supposed I shouldn’t have been surprised. Thinking back, I realized there had been
some fairly obvious signs. During our phone calls, he’d rambled on incessantly about
the food at the club, how good everything tasted. Heck, I’d even noticed he’d put
on a pound or two while working in Atlanta.

“Has anything happened between you two?” I asked. If he’d cheated on me, I’d never
forgive him. I’d make sure he was audited every year for the rest of his life.

“No.” Brett’s voice was emphatic. He looked me in the eye. “I’d never do that to you,
Tara.”

I believed him. “Nothing’s happened with Nick, either.”

“I know that, too. You wouldn’t make a fool of me like that.”

We were both quiet a moment as we tried to sort our thoughts.

“When were you going to tell me?” I asked finally.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Soon. I was still working through my feelings.”

“And what do you think now?”

“Honestly, Tara? I’m still not sure. Sometimes I can really see me and you having
a future together.”

“And other times?”

“Other times I think a life with you would be an absolute pain in the ass.”

We shared a laugh.

“So, what now?” I asked.

Brett shrugged. “I guess we work out some parameters for a trial separation.”

It seemed so formal and legalistic, but it was the right thing to do. It was the only
way to ensure that if things didn’t work out with Nick or Fiona, neither Brett nor
I crossed a line from which there could be no return.

We talked things out and finally reached an agreement, the terms of which were fairly
straightforward:

Number one: a total break for one month with no communication between us.

Number two: no nooky with the new partner during the trial period.

Number three: On an agreed Saturday one month from now, if either of us wanted to
reconcile, that person should go to the children’s pool at the arboretum at noon and
see if the other showed up. If we both showed up, we’d get back together, no questions
asked. If not, well, it’s been great. No regrets.

Brett leaned in and gave me a soft, sweet kiss on the cheek before leaving. I grabbed
his hand and held it to my cheek for a moment, yet more tears welling up in my eyes.

Willie Shakespeare got it right. Parting really is such sweet sorrow.

chapter thirty-nine

Nick
+
Tara
=
♥

As soon as Brett left, I texted Nick.
U R in big trouble, mister.

A reply came instantly, as if he’d been waiting to hear from me.
On my way.

Twenty minutes later, Nick stepped into the doorway of my room. He crossed his arms
over his chest and leaned back against the jamb. “You’re angry that I spoke with Brett?”

“Furious.” It was a lie. Although part of me didn’t like the fact that Nick had taken
charge of the situation and fought my battle for me, so to speak, another part appreciated
the fact that he’d taken the heat off me, made things easier. Besides, seeing him
standing there made it impossible to maintain any anger I might have felt.

“I got tired of waiting, woman. Besides, I have a feeling you won’t be furious for
long.” He flashed that chipped-tooth smile that never failed to send me reeling.

I felt a blush warm my cheeks. “Cocky son of a bitch.”

He chuckled. “You wouldn’t have me any other way.”

It was true. He really did understand me, huh?

Nick stepped over to the bed and took a seat facing me, reaching out his hand to entwine
his fingers with mine. God, his touch felt wonderful. After weeks of yearning for
contact, I didn’t think I’d ever want to let go. He raised my hand to the smooth cheek
he’d recently shaved and held it there, closing his eyes and releasing a long breath
as if our physical connection brought him some sort of spiritual release. Heck, I
felt the same way, like my restless soul was finally at peace.

A moment later he opened his eyes. “Should we get naked and do it right here in the
hospital bed? It’s adjustable. We could probably come up with a really interesting
position.” Still holding my hand, he took one of my knuckles between his front teeth
and gave it a playful bite.

If not for my agreement with Brett, I’d have been willing to try. But until the one-month
probationary period was up, there’d be no nooky with Nick.

When I told him the details of my agreement with Brett he released my hand and frowned.

I grabbed his hand back and held it to my cheek this time. “Please don’t be mad. I’m
crazy about you, Nick. You know that.”

He gave a grunt of displeasure, but when he eyed my face his frown melted. “I’ll never
understand how you can be so tough at your job and such a chickenshit about your personal
life.”

If he hadn’t nailed me so perfectly, I might’ve been angry again. “Guns are much easier
to handle than men,” I said, shrugging. “They don’t go off unexpectedly, I can control
them, and they’re easier to clean.”

“I suppose you’ve got a point.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and began punching
buttons. When he finished, he held the phone up to show me the screen. On the Saturday
after Thanksgiving, the day when Brett and I were to either part for good or meet
at noon to reconcile, Nick had scheduled a date with me for the evening. He’d titled
the event ROCK TARA’S WORLD. Clearly he, too, believed things would work out between
us, despite this somewhat inauspicious start.

I picked my phone up from the bedside table and marked my calendar, too.
ROCK NICK’S WORLD RIGHT BACK.
I held up the phone. “It’s a date.”

*   *   *

Dr. Ling released me from the hospital the following day with strict orders to take
it easy. And what better place to take it easy than on a boat?

Nick played hooky from work in the afternoon and we took his boat out to one of the
area lakes. The day was cool, so we wore windbreakers. Given that it was not only
late October but also a weekday, we virtually had the lake to ourselves.

It felt like we were the only two people in the world.

Nick fished while I lounged on the deck with a glass of peach sangria and a new mystery
novel. Nutty lay on his back at our feet, his tummy turned toward the sky, basking
in the meager sunshine.

Though Nick hadn’t been especially thrilled to know our relationship was a trial run
and that Brett and I had kept each other in a backup position, he’d acquiesced. Of
course he’d kept his account at Big D Dating Service active, too. It was his way of
letting me know that he wasn’t a pushover, that two could play this game. He was keeping
his options open, too. Still, I was cautiously optimistic that things would work out
between us.

In late afternoon, as the sun began to wane, Nick eased his boat into the cove that
contained the quiet dock where my mother, Alicia, and I had stopped the evening after
we’d gone shopping at Neiman’s. Nick tied up to the side of the dock and we stepped
off the boat, Nutty trotting up the wooden pier to dry land and sniffing around for
the squirrels that so easily eluded his nearly blind eyes.

Nick and I sat on the dock and looked out over the water. I recalled the night that
I dreamed of having a glass of peach sangria in my hand and Nick sitting next to me.

My dream had come true.

chapter forty

Fairy Tales

Things were looking up all around.

Daniel phoned Alicia and the two met for lunch. Though she was happy he’d called and
thrilled he wanted to resume their relationship, she wasn’t about to go rushing back
into either his arms or his apartment. I told her she could stay at my place as long
as she wanted to. It was nice having her around, even if she refused to do my laundry.

Though Margie Bainbridge had hidden out at the home of her cousin in nearby Rockwall
for five days, she’d been overcome with guilt and turned herself in the day after
I was released from the hospital. She’d been relieved to learn she hadn’t killed me.
She’d panicked, she said. She’d been overcome by the horror of learning she’d facilitated
the terrorists and thought she’d face life in prison. Her actions earned her five
years in the federal penitentiary. If only she’d let me finish talking before taking
the bat to my brains. When will people learn to listen?

Richard Beauregard hired a sleazebag lawyer who was giving the attorneys at the Department
of Justice all kinds of unnecessary hell. Hiring the bastard had been yet another
bad decision in a long line of bad decisions Beau had made. The government attorneys
quickly revoked the relatively generous plea deal they’d offered and planned to go
for the jugular.

But I had better things to do than think about Margie or Beau. It was Halloween now
and my first official date with Nick.

He carried a gallon-size jug of peach sangria into the rec room at Ajay’s condominium
complex while I carried a stack of plastic cups. Christina had decorated the place
with fake spiderwebs and black streamers, along with a skeleton model on wheels that
Ajay had ordered from a medical supply outfit. A strobe light flashed while a fog
machine provided an eerie haze. Ajay had connected his iPod player to the room’s built-in
speakers and dance music reverberated through the space, the windows rattling with
each throb of the bass line.

I wore the cute fairy costume I’d bought a few weeks ago at one of those specialty
stores that pop up before the holiday. Nick was dressed as a cowboy. He already owned
boots, spurs, chaps, and a hat and hadn’t needed to go shopping. Heck, for him the
costume was hardly a costume at all. He’d brought a rope from his boat to serve as
a lasso. The yellow nylon was hardly authentic, but it had been handy.

Christina wore a skimpy Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader costume. Ajay wore an oversized
toy stethoscope over a white lab coat and carried a gag pill bottle filled with Skittles,
which he dispensed freely. Eddie and his wife, Sandra, had been invited to the party,
but parental duty called, requiring them to take their twins trick-or-treating instead.
Oh, well. Every party needs a pooper.

Alicia had teased her blond hair until it stuck straight up on top of her head. She’d
sprayed the updo black, leaving platinum lightning bolts along the side. She’d loaded
on dark eye shadow, dark lipstick, and dark rouge. In her poofy secondhand wedding
dress, she made the perfect Bride of Frankenstein. Little did she know just how appropriate
the costume would be tonight.

Josh and Kira arrived shortly after me and Nick. The two had reconciled and Josh’s
infected nose had cleared up completely. My coworker was once again the annoying little
dweeb—make that “adorable little dork”—Kira had fallen for.

Kira was dressed in her Sailor Moon costume, while Josh wore a classic tuxedo under
a black cape with red satin lining. His costume also included a top hat and a white
eye mask. He actually looked quite dashing, nothing like his normally nerdy self.
What’s more, his usual stiff gait had been replaced by a smooth and confident swagger.

“Who are you?” I asked, gesturing to his getup as they approached.

“Tuxedo Mask,” he said, his voice sounding deeper, more manly than I remembered. “He’s
a character from the Sailor Moon show.”

Kira looked at Josh with affection before turning to me. “Tuxedo Mask is the guy Sailor
Moon is hot for.”

Nick looked from Josh to Kira and back to Josh again. “You lost it, didn’t you?” It
was more a proclamation than a question.

Josh glanced at Kira as if seeking permission to answer. She slid him a sly smile
and Josh looked up at Nick, beaming proudly. “Yeah. I lost it.”

Nick raised his hand for a high five. “My man!”

Josh slapped Nick’s hand with a resounding
smack.

“He’s a natural,” Kira added.

“Drinks?” I asked before Kira could elaborate. My mind had already produced a number
of mental images, including one involving the creative use of a wireless mouse on
Kira’s etherport.
Damn my vivid imagination!
“I’ll get them.”

Nick followed me to the makeshift bar.

“Josh, a natural?” I said. “I have a hard time believing that.”

Nick cut a grin my way. “I might have given him a few pointers.”

“Really? You said earlier that teaching Josh your tricks would be like letting a kid
play with dynamite.”

“True,” Nick said. “That’s why I only taught him the basics. The equivalent of a firecracker.”

Apparently whatever Nick taught him had been enough. Kira looked happy and content,
as if the firecracker had provided more than enough
bang
to satisfy her. I could only imagine what it might be like to be treated to the full
range of Nick’s skills. Of course I wouldn’t find out for at least another month.
Per the terms of my contract with Brett, I was prohibited from engaging in nooky with
Nick until the thirty-day trial period was over. But, heck, I was getting way ahead
of myself, wasn’t I? Nick and I hadn’t even kissed yet.