The Groom Wanted Seconds: A Novella (3 page)

“It is indeed,” Rebecca said, giving the order another look. Twenty gift baskets. It wasn’t a huge order, but it was a huge step forward. One of many, Rebecca thought. Who knew where the path ahead would bring the three of them? All she knew was that she was glad she was on the same road as her friends.

And that she had become the change she wanted to see. Professionally, at least. She thought of Jeremy’s heartbroken face this morning, and how close she had come to relenting, to making yet another foolhardy mistake, and realized she had a ways to go personally. The best way to do that was to stay far, far away from Jeremy.

Correction—stay away from
all
men. Relationships muddied the waters, and if she got any deeper into the muddy mess she’d already made, she’d be wearing waders every day. Not the fashion statement a woman working on a new life wanted to make.

3 Ready Made Pizza Crusts (use the ones in a can, unless you are some glutton for punishment who makes your own from scratch)

1 small jar pizza sauce

8 ounces shredded pizza blend cheese (or Italian blend)

Parmesan cheese

Pizza toppings of your choice

Yeah, you can buy those tiny pizza things from the frozen section, but sometimes a man needs a real meal. These are easy enough that even you can make them, I swear. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Unroll pizza crust. Spread about 4 tablespoons of pizza sauce on each crust, within 1/2 inch of pizza dough edge. Top with cheese, then add toppings.

Roll up pizza, jelly-roll style (which means roll it from one side to the other, like wrapping a body in a blanket.) Pinch seams together. Pinch ends together, to seal. Don’t worry about being exact—it’s junk food, not a blueprint. Place on a cookie sheet and bake for 30-40 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Cool for five minutes on a wire rack before slicing. Serve with beer, rum and Coke, or whatever makes you forget her the fastest.

C
HAPTER 3

The beer sat in front of Jeremy, growing warmer by the minute. He had his hands wrapped around the mug, but had yet to take a sip. He’d done a pretty damned good job of hosting a one-man, one-beer pity party so far.

On the screens above him, the Red Sox played the Orioles, which had the other guys in O’Toole’s cursing and cheering. Jeremy barely saw the game, and wondered for the hundredth time why he’d agreed to come here tonight. He could be miserable at home. Hell, he’d pretty much perfected the art of being miserable this summer.

“You going to drink that or commune with it?” Dan asked.

Jeremy jerked his head toward his friend. “Huh?”

Dan gestured toward the beer. “You’ve been staring at that Bud for the past ten minutes. It only gets in your bloodstream if you drink it, not teleport it.”

“I’m just not in a drinking mood. Sorry. I should have stayed home. I have that project to work on for the firm and—”

Dan mocked a yawn. “Man, if you keep working this much, you’re never going to have a life. You’re twenty-three, Jeremy. That’s time to live your life, not spend it stuck in a cubicle, doing the boss man’s bidding.”

“It’s called building a career.”

Dan spun on the stool, holding his beer in one hand and resting his elbows on the bar while he surveyed the room. He’d gone all out tonight on his appearance, which for Dan meant wearing his favorite Red Sox shirt, a clean pair of jeans and a pair of scuffed Nikes that looked like they’d been through a war zone. His brown hair stayed in a perpetual shaggy mop, but he’d at least shaved off the last few days’ worth of stubble.

“It’s also called avoiding the real world,” Dan said. “What is up with you, anyway? For about five minutes there, you were out, having a good time, but you’ve gone back to your ostrich impression again, burying your head in the work sand. I would have thought you’d have enough of that, after spending all those years in school, getting the bachelor’s and the master’s. It’s time to party, not pout.”

Jeremy took a long gulp of the beer. Room temp, it tasted like crap. He pushed the rest away and signaled for a fresh one. “I saw Rebecca today.”

“Yeah? You guys get back together?”

“She wants nothing to do with me.”

Dan arched a brow. “Really? I thought she was wild about you. I swear, I never saw a girl light up like she did when she was with you. It was disgusting, man.”

“Well, that light’s off now.” Jeremy thanked the bartender for the fresh beer, took a long swig, then held the beer between his palms again. “I should learn my lesson and move on. You know what?” Jeremy said, smacking his hand on the bar, “I don’t need her. There’s millions of women in the world.” The words came out flat, hurting his throat. “Correction. Billions. What’s the world population now? Six billion? That means there’s at least…two billion women. Plenty of other fish in the sea.”

Dan glanced at Jeremy, and shook his head. “Oh, hell. You are in bad shape, my friend.”

“I’ll get over it.” He hoped.

“You really like her, huh?”

Jeremy nodded, because a lump had sprung up in his throat. Damn, what was wrong with him? He never got emotional. Must be the beer. He needed to get a grip on this. Letting his emotions rule his decision would be a stupid choice. He had to think with a clear head, not with the hurt churning in his chest. “I thought I did. Hell, I even thought I’d marry her. I proposed and everything.”

“You did? When? You never told me.”

“That’s because she broke up with me when I did it. Not exactly something I want to broadcast to the world.”

“What’d you do? Set her hair on fire with the candlelight dinner?”

“No, nothing like that. I merely said that we should get married a year from September because she’d be done with school, have a year of the business under her belt, and I’d have a year of work myself which should let me save enough for a down payment on a condo. And, we’d avoid the June rush of weddings, and thus the higher expense.”

Dan snorted. “I’m surprised you didn’t suggest a courthouse elopement.”

“I did. It’s far cheaper and more efficient than to have a full church wedding.”

Dan smacked his forehead. “Jeremy, Jeremy, Jeremy. Are you using the Accountant’s Handbook as your guide for romance? God, that couldn’t be any more practical if you tried.”

“What’s wrong with practical?” Though even Jeremy had to admit that his proposal had been lame, one of those things that seemed like a good idea at the time. If he ever got a second chance—

Well, given the way things had gone between him and Rebecca today, he doubted he’d get another shot at proposing.

“Women don’t want practical. They want hot. Memorable. Amazing.” Dan leaned in and lowered his voice. “Tell me you didn’t treat sex the same way as you did your proposal.”

Just the mention of sex with Rebecca sent a fire racing through Jeremy’s veins. From the first moment he’d touched her, after a chance meeting when her bike got a flat and he stopped to help, he’d wanted her. He’d turned too fast to the right and she too fast to the left, and the sparks between them had been quick and hot. He’d wanted her then—and wanted her now. Kissing her, touching her, making love to her, had all been amazing. She always seemed to taste like candy, sweet and delicious, and just a little wicked. And in bed…she’d been an incredible lover, adventurous, giving, and sexy as hell.

His face heated and he cleared his throat. “That, uh, was never a problem between us.”

“Then go after her,” Dan said. “Guns blazing.”

“I don’t think an AK-47 is the way to Rebecca’s heart.”

“I meant pull out all the stops. Sweep her off her feet, a la Prince Charming. If you want the girl, you gotta go all in.” Dan studied him for a long second, then guffawed. “You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

“No, I hear you. Send her flowers, write a love note. That kind of thing.”

Dan laughed. “Dude, that is the lame way. When I say go all in, I mean you need to take it to the limit. Make it public, make it big. Think outside the box.”

“That’s the trouble,” Jeremy said. “I’m an engineer. All I do is think inside the box.”

“Gotta get out of your comfort zone, my man. And who knows? Maybe it’ll be good for you.” Dan grinned, then slipped off the stool. “Speaking about going out of your comfort zone, there’s a blonde over there who definitely looks like the kind that’ll ride me hard and put me back wet.”

Jeremy rolled his eyes, then watched Dan head across the bar to a buxom blonde beside the pool table. Within seconds, he’d managed to get her to laugh, two seconds later, she had her hand on his arm and her face so close to his, they could have been conjoined twins.

Jeremy signaled for the tab, paid his bill, then waved at Dan and headed out of O’Toole’s. The warm late summer night greeted him with the salty tang of an ocean breeze, kicked in off the Harbor.

It was a perfect night, the kind he normally would have spent with Rebecca, the two of them cozied up on his sofa, him working on some college paper or a project for the firm, her sketching ideas for her business while some home show played on the TV in the background. They’d had a comfortable, easy relationship, as predictable as snow in the winter. He’d thought she’d been perfectly happy with that, and even now, it still surprised him that he’d been so wrong. Or maybe he just needed to find a way to get them back to that cozy comfortableness.

Yeah, that was what they needed. To find the stable middle ground from before. Rebecca wasn’t a big, public, outside the box kind of girl.

Was she?

*~*~*

The first bouquet of flowers arrived early the next afternoon. Gorgeous red roses, just beginning to bloom. A second bunch arrived the next morning, white roses this time, with white baby’s breath. The cards were short but sweet,
Thinking of you, Jeremy. Miss you. Call me, Jeremy.

Nothing wrong with any of them, Rebecca thought. It was just that when she looked at the flowers, she felt…

Nothing.

Maybe it was because she had closed off her heart long ago. She glanced at the cards, noting one very visibly absent word—love. Jeremy had proposed to her, without ever saying he loved her. He could have been leasing a car for all the romance and heart he put into it. No, if she married a man, she wanted him to truly love her. And not be afraid to show it.

“More from Jeremy,” her mother sang, sailing into the kitchen with a box of white and red roses. “These are even more beautiful than the last ones, I think.”

“More roses.” Rebecca left the box on the table. Already, the small space was filled with the flowers’ cloying fragrance. “Why don’t we give these ones to Grandma?”

“You don’t like them?”

“They’re beautiful, just not…” Rebecca sighed, and pushed the box of roses to the side, “me. I’ve never been a roses girl. I told Jeremy that a couple times, but he didn’t pay attention.”

Gloria’s hand covered her daughter’s. “Most men don’t pay attention, dear. If they did, they’d have to do what we tell them to do.”

Rebecca laughed. “True. It’s just…he says he cares about me, but how can he if he doesn’t really know me?”

In the year she’d dated Jeremy, she kept hoping the spark between them would turn into something deeper, and it had, on her end, but clearly not on his. There’d been no whirlwind of romance, no breathless moments that would put a Hallmark card to shame. Analytical Jeremy had buried himself in his work, and after a while, she realized the only thing keeping her with him was attraction. Sex was one thing—a relationship was another. She couldn’t keep eating the frosting and hoping the lack of a good cake would satisfy her appetite. Jeremy had brushed off her concerns, telling her everything would be fine after he graduated, then after he finished the internship, then after he got his first job…

It wasn’t until she’d walked away that he finally noticed her. And heard what she’d been trying to say for months.

Then she’d rushed to Indiana, and fallen head-first into a huge mistake. A guy with a smooth voice, a charming smile, who said all the right words and did all the right things, and then, in the end—

Ran for the hills aas soon as he got what he wanted. She’d been stupid, blinded by a nice smile and soft eyes. By a dream that didn’t come remotely close to living up to the reality. Never again. She wanted a man who was real, who was committed, who loved her, and most of all, a man who truly connected, body, soul and mind.

She glanced at the roses again. Clearly, that man was not Jeremy Hamilton.