Shelf Awareness: Green Valley Library Book #4 Page 6

  “It’s just dinner—a little chit-chat and some food. It’ll do you good to get out of the house.”

  “I was planning on getting out of the house with you guys, not a man.”

  “It’s not like Dot fixed you up with some lothario. You and Marcus have a lot in common,” GramBea countered.

  “What exactly would that be besides Dot as an aunt?”

  Cupping her mouth with her hands, GramBea whispered, “He’s in the middle of a painful divorce.”

  “Fabulous.” In my experience newly divorced men were either rage-level bitter about their exes or they exercised their freedom by screwing anything that stood still long enough. Although I wanted to get Grant sexually out of my system, I wasn’t ready at nine days to do it.

  “I think you two could be good for each other.”

  “I’m not ready to be good for anyone but myself.” Calling upon what my therapist had said, I replied, “I’ve been with Grant since I was twenty-three years old. I barely know anything but him. It’s time I got to know me.”

  “One night out on the town isn’t going to derail your personal journey that much,” GramBea protested.

  Dot nodded. “Just think of it as going out with a friend. The two of you could do a lot of good for each other, I’m sure.”

  Glancing over at Estelle, she merely shook her head. “Fine. I’ll go.”

  With GramBea and Dot grinning like loons, I threw the kitchen door open. I met Marcus’s expectant gaze. Forcing a smile to my face, I said, “Let’s go.”

  With a relieved look, he rose off the couch and came to meet me in the doorway. “I’m sorry Aunt Dot sprung this on you. She did the same thing to me.”

  “We’ll have to plot our revenge over dinner, huh?”

  He laughed. “Yes. I believe we shall.”

  Although I didn’t look back, I knew Dot and GramBea were watching us from the kitchen. Instead, I let Marcus lead me out the front door and down the porch steps. “I made reservations at The Front Porch.”

  “That sounds nice.”

  He opened his car door for me. “I hate we don’t have more choices like they do in Atlanta. I thought about us going back to Maryville, but I didn’t want to spring too much on you.”

  “Oh, who needs the hassle of a big town, right?” I questioned as I slid across the seat.

  Marcus nodded before closing my door. He hustled around the front of the car before climbing inside. We made the quick drive to The Front Porch in polite conversation. That same easy communication continued once we were seated at a booth. Marcus’s work in the DA’s office in Maryville kept him pretty busy. Although we reminisced about his parents and our childhood, we didn’t mention our exes, which was nice.

  But then it came time to give our drink orders to the waitress. “I’ll have a glass of red wine.” At Marcus’s sharp intake of breath, I cut my eyes from the waitress over to him. “Oh, I’m sorry. I guess I should have asked if you had an aversion to alcohol.” I had forgotten in a small town like Green Valley, you had a lot of teetotalers. The last thing I wanted to do was offend him.

  “No, no, that’s not it.”

  When Marcus continued appearing pained, I said, “Are you sure? I can totally forego the wine.”

  “It’s just”—he pinched his eyes shut—“red wine was Brianne’s favorite.”

  Oh, no. There it was. The opening of the ex-files. I’m pretty sure bringing up the ex on a date was some sort of faux paus. Although I could have told the waitress to nix the wine out of respect for Marcus and his pain, I decided against it. My sixth sense told me I was going to need all the alcohol I could get.

  After the waitress shot me a sympathetic look, she headed off to get our drinks. With the elephant tap-dancing in the room, I felt it was best just to get it all out there. “How long have you and Brianne been separated?”

  Marcus sniffled before reaching for his napkin. “Six months.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I mean, what are you going to do?” After dabbing the corners of his eyes, he gave me an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I swore I was ready for a date.”

  “Don’t worry about it. We both kind of had this thrust onto us.”

  Nodding, Marcus said, “Since my grandmother died, Aunt Dot has been like a second grandmother to me. After Brianne left, she’s done everything from cook dinner for me to clean my house.”

  I laughed. “That sounds just like her. She’s been taking care of me as well.”

  “How long have you been separated?”

  Tilting my head, I began mentally counting. “Nine days?”

  Marcus widened his eyes. “You mean, it’s not even been a month?”

  “I know. Sometimes it feels like just yesterday, and then others it’s hard remembering I had a life with him.”

  Slowly, Marcus shook his head. “I was barely functioning at nine days. One of my friends had to spoon-feed me soup.”

  “Wow . . .” I really didn’t have a follow-up to that remark. Had it not been for GramBea and the girls maybe I would have been in the same shape. But then I reminded myself I had peeled myself out of bed on day two.

  The waitress returned with our drinks along with a basket of homemade rolls. “Um, are you guys ready to order?” She threw a somewhat anxious look between Marcus and me. Like myself, she probably feared I was going to order something else that Brianne enjoyed, which in turn might send Marcus even further over the edge.

  Marcus nodded. “Go ahead, Finley.”

  Drawing in a deep breath, I replied, “I’ll have the sirloin well done and a baked potato, just butter.” I peered cautiously at Marcus over my menu. Thankfully, my order hadn’t triggered anything in him. After he ordered the surf and turf, he handed his menu to the waitress.

  Once we were alone again, Marcus reached for one of the rolls. “How are you handling your separation?”

  I shifted in the booth. “I don’t really know how to answer that. Some days I think I’m doing well. Other days not so much. I mean, it’s really trying to overcome a gamut of emotions in a short amount of time.”

  “During an impending divorce, time really isn’t your friend. Everything gets measured by it, yet when it comes to healing, it’s really a joke.”

  I couldn’t help feeling slightly surprised at how with-it he sounded. It was certainly a seismic shift from him becoming emotional over my choice of wine. Just as I was about to agree with him, my attention was drawn to the hostess, walking another patron to a table. Although I could only see him from the back, the impossible height coupled with the hair immediately gave it away.

  Holy hell.

  Zeke Masters was sitting five tables away from me. Not too surprising was the fact he was alone. Since he had his back to me, there was no way I could say hello.

  At Marcus’s wheeze, I cut my gaze back over to him. “Oh shit!” I cried at the sight of him choking on one of the homemade rolls. I shot out of my chair and rounded the table in a second, preparing myself to start the Heimlich maneuver. Before I could wrap my arms around him, he held up a hand to stop me. With my pulse racing, I watched his trembling hand reach for a glass of water.

  After he took a sip and stopped hacking, I asked, “Are you okay?”

  “She’s here,” he hissed.

  “What? Who is here?”

  “Brianne.” He nodded at the entrance. Swiveling my gaze, I took in a diminutive woman who was laughing at the man beside her. Considering Marcus’s heartbreak, I had expected someone larger than life. Considering how positively ordinary she was, I couldn’t imagine how she had inflicted so much pain. I know looks weren’t everything, but Marcus certainly could’ve done better.

  As if she sensed his presence, Brianne slowly turned around. At the sight of Marcus, her expression grew serious. Well, I guess I should say seriously annoyed.

  Marcus rocketed out of his seat and blew past me to make a beeline for Brianne. I stood rooted to the floor as I surveyed the scene. It was
like watching a car crash in slow motion.

  When Marcus reached Brianne, she held up her hand at him. “Please do not make a scene,” she hissed.

  “Please, Brianne, won’t you give me another chance?”

  “We’ve been through this a million times.”

  “But I swear, I’ll do anything.” Barely lowering his voice, he replied, “I’ll even role play like you wanted.”

  Brianne’s face turned the color of a tomato. “Seriously, Marcus, you have got to stop this.”

  “But I can’t. I love you too much.”

  With a roll of her eyes, Brianne turned to her date. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  After Brianne practically sprinted out the door, Marcus stood there, staring. A few painful minutes passed before his shoulders began rising and falling with silent sobs. Tossing my napkin on the table, I rose out of my chair. As I started over to him, the quiet anguish turned over to howling. It was so loud the other patrons were craning their necks to see the source of the commotion. I’m sure some people assumed it was a child throwing a tantrum.

  “Marcus, are you going to be all right?” I tentatively asked.

  He shook his head vehemently from side to side while continuing to wail. “Look, this really isn’t the place to do this,” I said.

  “I-I c-can’t h-help it.”

  Part of me wanted to haul off and slap the shit out of him. Like that classic scene in Moonstruck when Cher slaps Nic Cage and tells him to snap out of it. Or maybe grab him by the lapels of his jacket and shake him while shouting, “Get a hold of yourself!” At the same time, I didn’t think it would do well for my new reputation in town if I assaulted one of the regulars. “Would you like me to drive you home?”

  “N-No, I’m f-fine.”

  “Yeah, I might argue differently, considering you just lost your shit in the lobby.”

  Marcus’s cries momentarily faltered as he gazed around the restaurant. Blood-red mortification colored his cheeks. “I can’t do this.” He raced out the door, leaving me standing in a stupor.

  There was no way in hell I was going to chase after him. Being new in this town, I needed to maintain my pride. Since an Uber was out of the question in a town like Green Valley, I would just have to walk home. I could always call Dot or GramBea to guilt them into picking me up.

  With a sigh, I turned to go back to the table to get my purse. But instead I ran into a hard body. A tall, hard body. A somewhat familiar tall and hard body.

  Oh yeah, this night just couldn’t get any better.

  “Hello, Finley,” Zeke said.

  “Hey,” I so eloquently replied. Of all my coworkers, Zeke was the last one on earth I would have wanted to witness what just went down with Marcus. And no, it wasn’t just about him being the only male coworker and coincidentally being seriously good-looking. It was more about the fact he had previously witnessed me making a fool of myself when he caught me singing and dancing.

  He jerked his chin at the door. “I’m sorry about your date.”

  I held up a hand. “Please don’t apologize. That was a fix-up forced on me by my great-aunt.”

  “She must really not like you, huh?” Zeke asked, his lips quirking in a hesitant grin.

  Laughing, I replied, “She meant well. I don’t think even she could have imagined that sort of spectacle happening.”

  “Listen, I didn’t just come over to say hello. I thought since your dinner was cut short, you might want to join me for dinner.”

  My heart hammered against my breastbone. Was it possible to salvage the worst evening imaginable? “I won’t be crashing your plans?”

  “It’s just me, and I don’t think I’ll mind.”

  It was a Friday night, he was an extremely good-looking man, and he was eating alone. There had to be a story there, and I’ll be damned if I wasn’t going to find it out. “Thanks. I would love to join you.”

  “Great. Follow me.”

  Chapter Eight

  After I grabbed my purse and salvaged my half empty wine glass, I followed Zeke over to his table. I couldn’t hide my surprise when he held the chair out for me. It must have been noticeable because Zeke said, “What? You didn’t peg me for a gentleman?”

  “I’m just not used to men outside the South doing it.”

  “We have manners in Seattle too.”

  I laughed. “My apologies.”

  Once I was seated, Zeke sat down in his own chair. The same waitress Marcus and I had reappeared with Zeke’s frosty mug of beer as well as his basket of bread.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were expecting anyone else.” When she saw it was me who had joined Zeke, her eyes bulged.

  “Ms. Granger is going to join me now since her . . .” Zeke cocked his brows at me.

  “Acquaintance?”

  He grinned. “Since her acquaintance had to leave. I’ll take care of their check.”

  “No! I can’t let you do that.” I shot the waitress an epic “do as I say and no one gets hurt” look. “Please bring it to me.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Oh yeah, I got the ma’am. I had totally taken care of business.

  After the waitress left, Zeke said, “I didn’t realize how stubborn you are.”

  “Am I?”

  “You wouldn’t let me take care of the check.”

  “Please. I owe you enough for having to witness that insanity without having to also pay for the check.”

  “I do have a question about your date.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “I told you it was a fix-up by my well-meaning yet terribly clueless aunt.”

  “Actually, I was curious why you were on a date when you’re wearing a wedding ring.”

  FUCK! I jerked my gaze from Zeke to my hand. He was right. I was still wearing my diamond. During the past week in Green Valley, I’d somehow managed to keep it on. After initially debating about taking it off last week in the shower, I hadn’t taken it off.

  “This ring”—I pointed to the diamond—“is a façade.”

  “It looks real to me.”

  Anxious laughter bubbled from my lips. “No, the diamond is real, but what it stands for isn’t. At least it isn’t anymore.”

  “It’s not?”

  I nodded. “I caught my husband cheating on me.”

  “God, Finley, I’m so sorry. I had no idea you were going through this.”

  “Thanks. It’s been a tough nine days.”

  Zeke’s neck snapped back. “Holy shit. Just nine days?”

  “Yeah. It’s still so new I haven’t really been able to bring myself to take it off.” As I gazed at the ring, I wrinkled my nose. “Actually, that’s not true. Since everyone around here knows I’m married, I didn’t want to arrive in town without my ring. I thought I could hold off the gossips long enough for me to get my head on a little straighter before I had to face the questions.”

  “I’m sorry. The end of a marriage is a hell of a thing to go through, but when you throw in infidelity, it’s even worse,” Zeke replied.

  I blinked at him. Was he making some random observation or one steeped in personal experience? Most people would have just gone for the casual “That sucks.” Toying with the napkin in my lap, I replied, “Thanks. It was quite a shock.” A naked personal trainer in your bathroom is a little more than shock, but I wasn’t quite ready to go there with him.

  “That’s what got you from Atlanta to Green Valley?”

  “Yes, I’m a fugitive from my marriage. Or I suppose I should say my impending divorce.”

  “Although I’m sure it’s terribly painful for you, I can’t help thinking his loss is our gain,” Zeke said. His smile warmed me from head to toe while spending a few lazy seconds between my thighs. Jesus, Finley, the man was giving you a simple compliment, and you have to make something depraved out of it.

  Any thoughts of what dirty things I might do with Zeke were interrupted when the waitress arrived with our meals. For a few moments, conversation stilled and was r
eplaced by scraping silverware and chewing. After swallowing a bite of steak, I eyed Zeke thoughtfully. “Now it’s your turn.”

  “My turn for what?”

  “To spill your romance secrets.”

  “Ah, turning the tables on me.”

  I smiled coyly. “Damn straight.”

  “Well, I’m not married.”

  “I didn’t figure as much since you weren’t wearing a wedding band.”

  “What if I had taken it off for work?” Zeke countered.

  “Seriously?”

  “Maybe the band could get caught on the inside of a computer system.”

  “Sounds a wee bit farfetched.”

  He laughed. “Fine. You were right to assume I wasn’t married because I wasn’t wearing a band.”

  “Have you ever been married?”

  With a shake of his head, he replied, “I was engaged once. Does that count?”

  “That’s like running the marathon but not crossing the finish line.”

  “True. Besides the engagement, I don’t have a lot of love stories.”

  Rolling my eyes, I countered, “Right. Let me guess. Yours have mainly been lust stories, not love stories.”

  He furrowed his brows at me. “I wouldn’t call it those either.”

  “Come on. You’re trying to tell me a man as good-looking as you are doesn’t have a lust story or two?”

  “Sure. I’ve lusted after lots of women.”

  “And acted on that lust too, I would assume?”

  “Not exactly. Most of the women didn’t reciprocate my lust.”

  I gave him an odd look. “They actually turned you down?”

  “Pretty much.”

  Slowly, I shook my head at him. “I don’t get it.”

  “What’s there to get?”

  “Why would they turn down a hot guy like you?” Immediately warmth filled my cheeks at having said what I did. It didn’t help that Zeke was giving me a cheeky grin.

  “Well, I’ll be damned. Finley Granger thinks I’m hot.”

  Trying to save face, I ducked my head. “Maybe.”

  “Oh no. Don’t try to take it back. I heard it plain as day.”

  Dammit, he really wasn’t going to let this one go. Since I didn’t want him to get the best of me, I jerked my head up and stared him in the eye. “Fine. I think you’re hot.”