Changing Course (8 page)

"Crap, crap, crap! This is bad...oh this is so bad," I say pacing. “Wait, what do you mean after he gets one look at me? This isn't exactly a blind date."

"Yeah, but that man has only ever seen you in a white button-down shirt, black pants, and a god-awful apron. Not exactly the outfit that men fantasize about," she says as she runs her eyes down my body.

Trying to cut her off before she gets any crazy ideas, I blurt, "I'm not raiding your closet, you dress like a hooker." I barely finish my sentence when I hear a loud commotion out front.

"What the hell was that?" Kara asks as we both take off to investigate. When we get out front, I see Brett standing with a finger pointed at Caleb and his chair tipped over behind him. His face so distorted in anger that I almost didn't recognize him. He's usually so laid back, but this man towering over the table is anything but mellow.

"Shut up, Jones. Shut. Up." Caleb sits in silence fearlessly staring him directly in the eye.

I try to figure out what the heck is going on, when suddenly it hits me. This has got to be about our date. Great, as if I wasn't embarrassed enough. Now I have to talk him off the edge of killing someone at the very idea of going out with me.

"This should be fun," I say to myself before rushing over to the guys.

"You don't have to go on Sunday. I shouldn't have asked. I'm sorry," I hurry out when I get to the table.

"Not now, Jess!" Brett snaps, never taking his eyes off his partner.

"No really, it's okay. I'll ask Kara to go to the game or something. Actually, why don't I just give you the tickets and you can take whoever you want. It doesn't have to be me."

The stare down continues, neither man moving a muscle.

"Not fucking now, Jess," Brett repeats very slowly pausing between each word.

In order for me to explain to you why this one sentence caused me to lose my mind, you should probably know something about me first. I don't cuss. Cussing is for ignorant people with a limited vocabulary. I think it's rude, crass, and pointless. My mom doesn't cuss, and the way my brother babies me, it’s scandalous when he says “darn it” in front of me. I don't hate people who cuss though. Kara says the F-word sometimes, but never aimed at me. It's usually when she drops something or sees a hot guy walk by the coffee shop window. She certainly never snaps it at me in an angry tone while having a hot guy staring competition. So, being that this is the first time anyone has ever talked to me like that, I believe I should be given a free pass on the freak-out that followed.

"Excuse me? Did you just say the F-word to me?" I say in disbelief and anger. "What the heck did I do that was so wrong? I thought it would be fun to go to the game together, but I'm sorry I even asked you now. So you can just calm down and wipe the crazy ogre look off your face. I officially withdraw my offer. I'm sure you have better things to do, and other people to swear at. You are a jerk, Brett Sharp. No, you are more than a jerk, you’re a...whatever...you’re something worse than a jerk!" I finish on a shout, only pausing to catch my breath.

"Caleb, any chance you are free on Sunday? I happen to have two tickets to the Bears game." I turn, very matter-of-factly looking at Caleb. Why I asked him, I have no idea. It just came out of my mouth. Maybe it was some hopeful plan to make Brett so jealous that he realizes he can't live without me, thus sweeping me off my feet and heading straight to the wedding chapel. I've seen that work a few times in the movies. It could totally happen here.

"He'd love to," Brett says before slamming his coffee down on the table and walking out the door. Well, okay then. I assume since Brett just fixed me up on a date with his best friend, I should officially accept that he doesn't want to go out with me. Which reminds me, I need to google the quickest route to Oklahoma.

"I'm sorry about that." I hear Caleb say as he slumps in his chair. "Damn it," he grits through his teeth while grabbing the back of his neck.

"No need to apologize, I shouldn't have asked him out. It's obvious he isn't interested. I...I um, I don't know." I lean down picking up the chair Brett knocked over. I sit down feeling defeated.

"That wasn't about you Jess." I look up and see Caleb's face paled and looking like a lost child.

"Are you okay?" I know I probably shouldn't have asked. It's really none of my business, but seeing this man so torn up makes me need to help him though. It's not my fault I was born a nurturer.

"Yeah. No. Shit!" He sighs, obviously overwhelmed by the simple question.

"What was that all about?"

"That was me being a dick. Ugh, he should have punched me."

"What? No he shouldn't have! I'm sorry there is nothing you could have said that would have warranted being hit by your best friend."

"I told him his wife was supposed to die."

"Oh, well in that case you deserve to be kicked too. Wait," his words suddenly hit me. "Brett's married?"

"No, no. He's not married," he says, shaking his head.

"You just said ‘his wife.’ Is he divorced?"

"No. Look, I shouldn't have said anything. He doesn't," he pauses looking off to the side. “I mean he's not...um, well he's not currently in a relationship." He slides his eyes back over to mine.

Something's not right with this answer. So I squint my eyes questioningly, letting him know I don't believe him. But my glare doesn't seem to faze him in the least. He just stares back and I think I may even detect a twitch at corner of his mouth as if he is trying to force back a smile.

"Alright, I need to go apologize to him. He'll meet you at the game on Sunday."

"No way! I am not volunteering to embarrass myself again. Just tell him I said to forget all about it, and I'll see you guys next time you come in."

"He's interested, Jess."

"Yeah, okay, sure. I'm not buying it." I roll my eyes.

"It's been a while since Brett has been out with anyone. You have to be patient with him."

"How is that even possible? The man is hot." I slap my hands over my mouth as my face turns red at my slip up. But if Caleb notices my embarrassment he doesn't mention it. I'm starting to think I'm obsessing over the wrong cop.

"Let's just say, he's had a lot on his plate recently."

"Well, after the way he reacted today, I'm pretty sure he doesn't want to add me to that plate."

"Brett insists that we meet at Nell's tiny coffee shop, which is several miles out of our way, every Monday through Thursday. He might be a shit cook, but I'm pretty sure he could manage to make his own fruit and granola every morning. Or at the very least, buy it from a shop closer to the station."

"Um, okay," I say confused by his change in conversation.

"Do you want to know why we only come in Monday through Thursday, Jesse?" I nod, sucking in a deep breath through my nose, suddenly aware where he is going with this.

He smiles at me and motions me to lean closer as if he was going to tell me a secret, and whispers into my ear, “Because you don't work Fridays." I sit frozen as he stands and heads to the door. "We may not be here tomorrow or Thursday, but he will definitely be at the game on Sunday. He's interested Jess, he just doesn't know what to do with that yet." And with that, he strides out the door.

Brett

I
CAN'T
believe that I let Caleb talk me into this. After I showed my ass at the coffee shop on Tuesday, I've been avoiding Jesse all together. The vending machine at the station has been my only source of breakfast for the last two days. I polished off my supply of protein bars early leaving me starving in the mornings. I tried to send Caleb to get me my usual fruit and granola from Nell's, but he refused. He then proceeded to lecture me for forty-five minutes about how I needed to “man up and face Jesse”. For a best friend, he is completely worthless. It's all his fault I'm even in this situation to begin with.

I just need to tell Jesse that I'm married, let her down easy, and try to pretend this whole thing never happened. She's a sweet girl, but I am in no position to be dating right now. Besides, Jesse seems a bit young and naive. She is after all twenty-six years old and still working in a coffee house. Don't get me wrong, I'm not one to judge anyone based on their career choices, as long as it's what you want to be doing and not just what you have gotten stuck doing. Jesse doesn't strike me as the type of girl to serve muffins for the rest of her life though, so her working at Nell's is confusing.

Above and beyond all of that...I'm still married. That alone is like the blinking neon signs of reasons why I shouldn't be on a date with another woman. I've been broken for a long time now. I don't have anything to offer someone else. Shit, why did I show today? It would have been easier if I just stayed home and apologized for standing her up after the fact.

I wait in front of the stadium, scrolling through Facebook on my cell phone. I swear if one more of my high school friends posts pictures of their lunch, kids, or dogs, I'm going on a spree reporting everyone as spam. I can't even turn on my phone anymore without being reminded about exactly what my life is lacking. Good food, kids, and a dog!

Just as I end my internal rant, I hear a loud whistle behind me. Turning to look and I see a smoking hot brunette headed my way. My eyes start on her high heel knee boots, sliding up her sculpted legs, and over her perfectly curved waist. I freeze as I watch her full breasts bounce with each step. My dick instantly gets hard and I quickly shove my hands in my pockets trying to rearrange myself before anyone notices. Just what I don't need is for Jesse to show up right now, forcing me to explain why I'm playing pocket pool while staring at some woman walking down the street. That would probably go over about as well as when I cussed at her the other day.

"Hey." I tear my eyes away from the woman’s breasts just in time to see her stop in front of me. I glance up and into a pair of familiar golden brown eyes.

"Jesse? Jesus, what are you wearing?"

"A dress," she answers shortly.

"Are you sure, because it looks like you left half of it at home," I respond as my eyes rake over the short black sweater dress with a plunging V in the front revealing most of her tits.

"Don't you dare start with me about this outfit. It took me six hours to convince Kara that I didn't need to wear a red corset and black leather mini skirt here today. So this," she motions her hands over her luscious body, "was our compromise." Did she just say red corset and black leather mini skirt? Oh yeah, my dick heard her loud and clear.

I try to clear my throat and shake my head to stop myself from staring at her chest again, but damn, she is showing a ton of skin. Until today, I didn't even know Jess had cleavage. I bet I could hook the tip of my finger into her top and stroke her nipple without anyone even noticing. I groan at the thought as she stands looking at me questionably.

"Are you okay? You're making weird noises. Do you want me to go?" And just like that my shit life comes crashing back down. I remember that I won't be stroking anyone’s nipples tonight, unless my left hand happens to wander to my own during a much needed solo cold shower.

"Yeah I'm fine, sorry. No, I don't want you to go."

"Well, can we go inside then? It's getting cold, and Kara said it would be an insult to cover this dress up with a coat so I had to freeze my butt off the whole way here."

"Lead the way." I give her my best uncomfortable smile and motion for her to walk ahead.

I follow her into the stadium as my gaze once again travels down her body. This time it meets a perfectly round ass that causes my cock to stir back to life. Shit! Caleb's right, I have got to get laid.

We walk into the stadium and up to the VIP box. Normally, I would have been stoked to have such amazing seats, but I know the conversation we are about to have will probably leave me watching the second half from the sports bar around the corner. As we settling into our seats, our personal waitress stops by to take our drink order.

"I’ll take whatever lager you have on draft, please."

"Just make that two," she says as I turn my head in shock.

"Beer huh, and not even a light beer?"

"Are you saying I need a light beer? Brett, are you calling me fat?"

"No, not at all! It's just that most women drink light beer. I just assumed..." As I trail off, she lets out the most adorable giggle while smiling at my discomfort.