Unbearable (2 page)

“He brought her to my wedding,” Seth said. “And Maggie said the two of them went to a movie a couple weeks ago.”

“The movie thing wasn’t a date. She commented that she was going to see the new
Star Trek
movie, and I wanted to see it, so we went together is all.” I finished the car and put the lid on the wax.

“So tell me, how many times have you been to dinner with her over the past, say, six weeks?” Cole pressed.

“I don’t know.” I rubbed my neck. I didn’t want to talk about it right now. “Maybe twenty times, but they were working dinners.” Both of their eyes popped wide open. “We’ve been setting up the office and we had to eat, right? I mean, she’s nice and all, but . . .”

“I like her, don’t you?” Cole
took the wax and shammy from me, dropping the shammy. We hit heads bending to pick it up. “I mean, what’s not to like?” Cole said, rubbing his head. “She’s a sweet person, kind, hardworking.”

“And she laughs at my jokes, which is nice.” I tugged on the hideous dress. The straps cut into my shoulders. “She talks more now since she started working for me. Did you know she used to play lacrosse in high school?” Cole shook his head. “And she was a ballerina. Anyway, when I’m around her there’s this calming feeling, you know? Peaceful. I don’t have to put on an act. I can be myself. Well, except for the whole eating meat thing, but I think that’s my hang-up, not hers.” I glanced at
my friends, realizing how much like a lovesick puppy that sounded. Dropping my head in defeat, I admitted, “Yeah, I like her, a lot. More than I want to.” I scrubbed my hand over my jaw.

“Sorry, but I don’t get it. Why does that bother you?” Cole dropp
ed the shammy again. I let him pick it up this time.

“Doc, have you not noticed she’s in disguise? Who is she hiding from? And why does she even need to hide?” I asked. “She could be a criminal mastermind hiding from the mafia.” Seth rolled his head back. “Okay, she’s not a criminal, though I’m not discounting the mafia idea. Maybe her ex-boyfriend . . .” Seth planted his face in his hand this time. “Alright, I’m grasping. The fact is I don’t want any more chaos in my life. That’s why I left the MET. It was clouding my judgment. Taking over my life. Don’t you remember the way I treated Lilah before you got married?”

Cole patted my back. “I do, Booker, but you’re overreacting about Tess. You said you had a calm feeling around her. Maybe you should trust that.”

“Maybe it’s the calm before the storm,” I insisted. “Look, since changing jobs, I’ve not had a single panic attack. My life’s normal again, and I like it.” I slipped off the shoes. The stupid rhinestones
dug into my toes. “Besides, Tess told me the other day that she viewed marriage as a prison.”

“She actually said that? She’s so passive I can’t believe she’d make a bold statement like that.” Seth poked my fake boobs again.

“Hands off the merchandise.” I folded my arms over my chest. “I’ve been working with her on being more assertive after a near disaster with a sales rep last month. She was beside herself when he wouldn’t take no for an answer. I came back to the office after running an errand and found her in a panic. I kicked the guy out and had a long talk with her about not letting people walk all over her. She’s actually doing better.”

“I, for one, don’t think you should discount her until you learn the truth,” Seth said as we walked to the porch. “Maybe she’s just super shy.”

“Whatever. You two think everyone should get married and live happily ever after. You forget I’ve already done the whole marriage thing.” I shook my head against the memory of Nikkolynn. I never wanted to repeat that disaster. “Not everyone’s so lucky.”

“You just have to find the right person, Book, not rush into a relationship. You knew Nikkolynn less than three weeks before you married her,” Seth pointed out unnecessarily.

“Maybe. Or maybe I’m too much for one woman. Maybe I need to spread Booker around a little,” I teased.

Seth slipped backward off the porch as he laughed. “Is anyone truly shocked you’re not married?” He stood, brushing the dirt from his jeans.

“All kidding aside, I’m in no hurry to rush into marriage again. Lesson learned.”

A nasty wind shot up my dress again as the girls came back outside. Poor Tess groaned softly as it tossed her hair. She hated the cold.

“We’re heading to lunch,” Magpie said, giving Seth a kiss as he walked up the steps.

“Cole, will you make Sofia a sandwich? We’ll only be an hour or so.” Lilah stretched to kiss Cole. There had to be a ten-inch difference between them.

“I’d love to, m’lady.” He bowed to Sofia and she jumped into his arms.

“I want bologna, please, Daddy.” She wasn’t his biologically, but she was his daughter in his heart. I handl
ed the adoption for them. Her weasel birth father wanted nothing to do with Sofia, which made the paperwork less complicated.

I pointed to Lilah’s waxed car.

“Thank you. You’re a good man, Book, no matter what everyone else says. Well, I think you’re a man.” She poked my faux chest.

“Is that all any of you can see when you look at me?” I asked, wrapping my arms around my bust. “I have a mind, too, you know.”

Tess dipped her head, sharing that beautiful smile of hers with the ground. I allowed myself to entertain the idea that maybe she
was
just shy, and I was overreacting.

But I
knew
I wasn’t. Yet, I didn’t want to know what was going on with her. I preferred the “ignorance is bliss” philosophy for once. No more chaos.

Yeah,
who was I kidding? I’d be stewing on it, more than I wanted to. So much for the quiet life.

Chapter 2

Tess

Nine and ½ years ago

“ . . . No time for losers
/ Cause we are the champions / Of the world.”

We sang it loud, and we sang it proud. Several of my buddies from the football team stormed the field to celebrate my game-winning goal. Our lacrosse team just won the championship, and they hoisted me, the team captain,
high on their broad shoulders. Now the world knew us not just as Mighty Lions of Santa Mesa High. We now held the label of State Champions. The skies above burned a brilliant blue. The temperature: a sweltering ninety-four degrees, just how I liked it. Hot. We paraded around the field as we belted out “We Are the Champions” at least a million times at the top of our lungs. Mud caked my red hair, along with my face and my blue and gold uniform. My voice, raw from screaming, could barely be heard, and I just didn’t care. We won. The season was hard-fought, and me, a mere junior, led the team to victory. I had three full-ride scholarship offers already. And a partial scholarship offer for dance, my real love, at the small college right here in town. The world was my oyster.

“Tess
! Tess!” If Mr. Vintage Southern California guy screaming out my name hadn’t waved his arms frantically in front of me, I would’ve missed him. Not a good thing. The guy was red-hot Hollywood gorgeous, with chiseled features, tan face, blond hair—and tall. I liked tall guys. At five-ten myself, it helped.

“Tony, set me down
.” I tapped the head of the football player holding me several times before he glanced up.

“What, Tess?” His voice boomed above the others.

“I said put me down!” I pointed to the ground.

“We’re going to make another lap,” he said, as if it were obvious.

“Tony, we’ve circle the field three times already.”

“Yeah, but if I put you down now you’ll be trampled. Look at this crowd.”

He had a point. My classmates now flooded the marred green field, running around, cheering, many still singing the Queen song. Some of those divots in the grass were mine and I smiled proudly. My twin sister Abby jumped up and down, waving her arms at me, screaming out my name. I couldn’t hear her over the noise, but I watched as her lips formed my name. My older brother stood next to her with his arm around a pretty girl I’d never seen before. He too waved at me proudly. Remembering hot blond guy, I turned to see if he was still there but could no longer find him in the chaos.
Dang
.

Later that evening, Coach Holly and her two assistants threw a party on the beach. One of the many perks of living in the suburbs of San Diego, California: beaches. Another? Perfect weather, at least most of
the time. The main reason for the party was to celebrate our victory, but it also signaled that school was about to end. I could hardly believe I’d be a senior. The past two years blitzed by.

I snagged a water bottle from the cooler and made my way to the ocean to watch the sunset. I was partied out and needed a little quiet time away from screaming girls and high-fiving guys. With graduation looming, it meant we’d lose half
of our team. But I was up for it. I loved a good challenge. Getting my hands dirty and making things happen. I thrived on it. Terese Layla Selleck was not a quitter. Not ever.

Memories flooded my mind as the waves rushed the shore. I remembered my first week of ballet classes. I was six. The teacher told my mom not to waste her money when she’d asked if private lessons would help me. “This class is enough for Tess. She can get a little exercise, and have fun with the other girls, but she’ll never excel in dance. She just doesn’t have it.”

I cried for a week. Finally, my dad sat me down and told me I had two choices. “Move on, or prove the teacher wrong.” I decided on the latter. My parents checked out DVD’s from the library and I spent every spare minute practicing. Three years later, an elite ballet school in the area selected me to join their troupe, and seven years later, I was the lead in Swan Lake. Nope. I didn’t quit then, I didn’t quit today, and I wouldn’t quit next season.

Wearing only a pair of jean shorts and a green tank top, I shivered. It didn’t take long for the cool ocean breeze to raise goose bumps on my body. As ribbons of red and orange painted the sky, I rubbed my hands over my arms in an effort to warm myself. I hated the cold . . . Okay, it was probably in the low seventies, but still.

“Beautiful,” said a warm rich voice from behind. Startled, I spun around so fast I had to take a step to keep from tipping over. The tall blonde god from earlier, now dressed in white slacks and a white shirt, looking oh so good, stood smiling at me. The breeze pressed his shirt against him, exposing his wide shoulders and muscular chest. Impressive.

“Hi,” I said, smiling stupidly.
Come on, girl, pull it together
. “And I agree, the sunset is spectacular tonight.” I stiffened as he approached. I ordered myself to play it cool. The guy was obviously in college and I didn’t want to look like a silly high school girl, which technically I was.

“Not the sunset, though that’s beautiful also. I meant you.” He smiled. His straight white teeth gleamed.

“Thank you.” I adjusted my sloppy ponytail before shoving my hands into my pockets.

“My name’s Garen. Garen Johnson. My cousin Jessie’s on the JV team,” he explained. “I stopped by to give her a ride home from the party and saw you standing out here all alone. I’ve wanted to meet you since the game. I hope that’s alright.” His eyes lit up with
a smile as he added, “Great game, by the way.”

“Thanks. My name’s Terese Selleck, but I go by Tess.” I looked into his steel gray eyes framed by dark thick lashes. Nice. The guy had a good four inches on me, too. Perfect.

“Terese is such a pretty name. I think I’ll stick with that, if you don’t mind.” He smiled again and my heart took off. I didn’t care much for my first name, which was why I went by Tess, but I wasn’t about to put up a stink with hottie guy. He could call me whatever he wanted.

“So, Jessie tells me you’re a junior. Is that right? I’ve never heard of a junior being the captain of the varsity
lacrosse team before.” His face held a look of disappointment if his frown were any indication. “I thought you were older.”

“I’m pretty lucky, I guess. I didn’t even start lacrosse until ninth grade,” I explained, quickly adding, “I’ll be eighteen in a few months.” Okay, seven and a half.

“Nice.” He added a nod.

Both of us seemed to be at a loss for words as the conversation lagged. We turned to the ocean. Garen picked up a broken seashell, turning it over a few times in his hands. He pulled his arm back, ready to toss the shell back into the ocean. I stopped him.

“Wait.” I held out my hand and he slipped the shell into it, brushing his fingers against my palm. “Look. This side has waves of color, like a rainbow.” I smiled into his eyes.

“If it was perfect it’d be worth saving. It’s a chomped up mess
.” His brows pulled together in a scowl.

“I disagree. Something doesn’t have to be perfect to be beautiful. May I keep it? I think it’s lovely.” I traced over the fragmented rainbow with my finger.

“Go ahead, but like I said, it’s not worth anything.” He angled back to the sunset. “So you’re a lacrosse prodigy, and you like sea trash.” He laughed. “Tell me more about yourself.”

“I’m a dancer, ballet mostly. In fact, I hope to travel with a ballet company after college.” He nodded approvingly and I continued. “I’m an ace shot with a rifle, and pretty darn good with a pistol, too.”

“Guns? I’m not a fan of guns.” He scowled again.

Great. I searched my brain for something to say that would impress him. “My mom hates them also. When my dad takes us kids out for target practice, she won’t come along. In fact, she’s never even fired a gun in her life. And if there are bullets in the gun, she refuses to pick it up.”

“I do believe your mother is a very intelligent woman.” If Garen was still appalled by my love of guns, he hid it behind another winning smile.

Jessie raced across the sand toward us as I babbled away about my love of surfing.

“Garen!” She jumped into his arms.

“Hey, runt. You’re getting my pants dirty.” He set her down and brushed off several grains of sand. It was nice to see a guy who cared about how he looked. So unlike the boys I was surrounded with at school. “Your dad asked me to pick you up. Ready to go?”

“Sure. Do you need a ride, Tess?” Jessie pressed. “Elise left with Shane about ten minutes ago. You came with her, right?”

“Ugh. Not again.” Elise was my best friend, despite being uncontrollably boy crazy. It wasn’t the first time we’d gone somewhere and I had to find my own way home because she’d met up with a boy.

“I’ll give you a ride,” Garen offered casually.

Oh yeah. Perfect. Could this day get any better?

Garen and I were inseparable all weekend. I learned he was a student at Harvard, majoring in political science. “I will be president someday,” he assured me. “I have everything all scheduled out. I call it my Life Plan. I’m going to Harvard now, year round. I plan to graduate in three more years with a Masters at twenty-three. Then I plan to marry the most beautiful woman on the planet.” He stroked my cheek. “Next, I’ll work for a prestigious politician, and run for congress when I’m twenty-eight.”

“That’s an impressive plan,” I said.

“Hold on, I’m not done. I’ll serve two terms as a representative, then I’ll become a senator. When I’m forty-one, I’ll become the youngest president ever, beating Theodore Roosevelt by one year.” He beamed ear-to-ear. “Oh, I almost forgot. When I turn thirty, my perfect wife and I will have a child.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “You do have it all planned out.”

“Sure do. And it will happen. I may have to make minor tweaks to the plan here and there, but it will happen,” he said confidently. “You have to want it bad enough, and you have to be willing to do whatever it takes to achieve it. Then it will happen.”

“My feelings exactly.” A guy who knew what he wanted. What a nice change from the last guy I dated whose greatest ambition was to advance to the next level on some stupid video game he was obsessed with.

“Sounds as if we’re soul mates.” Garen nudged my shoulder with his. Instead of finding him cocky, I saw only confidence, determination. I liked it.

Late Sunday night he went back to Massachusetts. My parents were thrilled when he left. “He’s in college, Tess,” Dad
grunted. “You should be dating boys your own age. Besides, there’s something about him. I can’t put my finger on it, but I don’t trust him.”

My father’s warning fell on deaf ears. Garen mesmerized me. He was articulate, bright,
ambitious. His drive to succeed, infectious. Out of respect to my parents, we only text messaged each other and talked on the phone until I graduated. Garen came down for my graduation and took my parents and I out to dinner afterward.

“Please don’t rush into anything,” my mother
said as I got ready for bed that night. He was charming and polite all evening, but still he hadn’t won my parents over.

“Mom, I’m going to Santa Mesa State University. He’s in Massachusetts. I don’t think you need to worry,” I assured her. “Did I tell you he’s not a fan of guns either?” I hoped having that in common with Garen would endear him to her.

She kissed my cheek. “Well, that’s nice. Now off to bed.” Not the enthusiastic response I’d hoped for, but it was a start.

Two months later, Garen flew in from Harvard on a long weekend to help me move into the dorms at SMSU. I turned down many scholarship offers in lacrosse, including one to USC, for a partial one in dance at SMSU. It was a small school and they couldn’t afford full scholarships as the major universities could. But I didn’t care. I dreamed of starting my own dance studio someday after touring around the world performing with a ballet company. Garen worked hard to convince me that majoring wasn’t a smart move, especially since I intended to have my own studio someday. I could see his point, so I compromised with a double major.
Dance and business. It wasn’t what he had in mind, but he didn’t press the issue . . . well, not
too
often. He also wasn’t excited about me staying in San Diego for college.

“Harvard has a great business school,” Garen insisted. “Don’t you want to be by me?”

“I hate the cold. Correction, I despise it. And you’re carrying an eighteen-hour credit load. I’d never see you anyway.” None of that mattered. Unlike his, my parents weren’t rich. My dad was a teacher and money was tight most times. Passing up my partial scholarship wasn’t a luxury I could afford.

“That’s kind of a childish reason, Terese,” he complained, setting the last box in my dorm room. “What if I’m a senator in New York or Massachusetts some day? Are you telling me you won’t be a part of my life because of a little snow?”

Did he just suggest marriage? Stunned, I didn’t know what to say at first. Garen, not being the demonstrative type, seldom kissed me. The only reason I knew he loved me was that he sent a dozen roses for my birthday with a note stating that he did. “Of course I want to be a part of your life no matter where you end up,” I said, brushing stray hairs off my face. “I’ll move if your job dictates we live in a snowy climate.”