Jagger

 

 

 

“It’s ninja time!” Tenn crouched down and sliced the air with his hands.

Grabbing my partner’s arm, I yanked him back up. People eyed Tenn in suspicion as they curved around us on the sidewalk.

“Come on, I don’t want to be late,” I said studying their faces out of habit, but mostly due to embarrassment.

“Can I come and help?”

It had been a few days since I volunteered my services to David as a ninja instructor. I felt good when I left the park that day. Helping some kids be able to defend themselves gave me that high that’s been absent these past months.

Instead of hurting the bad guys, I was helping the good ones. It was different but something about it made my heart full.

Then I walked into the office the next day and gazed into Katlin’s cold eyes. She was relieved I obtained the signature for the divorce, but warned me to stay away from anyone related to Emma Hawthorne’s case.

I confided in Tenn. He promised to keep my secret but suggested I not tell anyone else.

“No, I don’t want to get you involved. It’s one thing to put my job on the line but I don’t want to risk yours too.”

He nodded but as we walked toward Tiffany’s building, I realized my partner was unusually quiet.

“What is it?”

Tenn shrugged. “I don’t know why you’re doing this—risking the case like this. You know if this gets out and Emma Hawthorne or her lawyer find out, it doesn’t look good for us.”

My throat tightened. “Yeah, I know. Just this one time and I’ll explain I can’t do it anymore. One time shouldn’t be a problem. I mean, I already fucked up marrying the woman. At least Katlin can work her magic to make sure that doesn’t get out.”

“I guess.” Tenn paused and looked at me. “What happened to you, Jag? You’ve been different lately.”

Shoving my hands into the front pockets of my jeans, I turned my head toward the street. “Don’t you ever want to be like them?” I removed a hand and waved it toward the people around us.

“What? Naïve? Boring? No, thank you.” Tenn laughed.

“Sure, they’re innocent of the evil people that we fight so hard to protect them from, but if I’m going to be honest, I’m jealous of them. I want to be blissfully unaware sometimes. Hang out with my friends and go to a bar on a Friday night. Maybe date a woman without having to search her background and the backgrounds of her friends and family.”

“What happened to Cate?”

“She’s dating some guy. He has a regular job downtown doing finance or something. When I saw her last that’s what she told me. No more hookups for me.”

His hand came to rest on my shoulder with a hard smack. “Sorry, man. She was hot. I’m sure you’ll find another fuck. Someone with a clean record that only wants sex.”

Maybe I want more than a fuck.

“Perhaps you’re right. Looks like I’m here. Thanks for walking with me. And good luck on your lunch date. Hope you get lucky,” I said just outside Tiffany’s building.

“Hopefully she lets me into her inner circle.” Tenn winked before he continued on his way.

I used to be like that. Find some woman, have a casual fling, and not feel like I was the loneliest man in the world.

Tenn usually bragged about the women he was about to hook up with, but he didn’t tell me anything about this one. Maybe he wanted more than sex, too.

Pushing the buzzer to Tiffany’s apartment, I forced myself to get out of this funk I was in. Making the country safe, that was more important than some woman to come home to at night.

“Yes?” Tiffany’s garbled voice came through the speaker.

“It’s Jagger.”

The door buzzed and I pushed through. I took the elevator to the eighth floor, moving thirty feet down the hall and came to stop in front of door 803. I knocked.

The door opened as the smell of garlic and spices wafted past me. Tiffany stood there with her thick hair cascading around her face and over her shoulders. Her smile inviting and curved with a pale red.

“Great. You’re here. David’s been talking all day about the lessons. Come in.”

She moved to the side as I stepped past her. Her frilly, heart-dotted apron wrapped over her green blouse and jeans had my eyes momentarily fixed on two hearts in particular. I swallowed as I pried my eyes away from her chest.

“Do you like garlic?” Tiffany asked as she brushed past me and into the kitchen.

“Of course. But why would—”

“Good.” She cut me off as she moved gracefully around the kitchen. “I’m making a lemon garlic pasta and salad for dinner. And I use garlic in my salad dressing.”

My head jerked. “You make your own dressing?”

The servants made the food in the house I grew up in. I may have only been six when my mother died, but I remember she never cooked. As for my dad, he refused to even eat in the same room as me.

As she stirred whatever was in the metal pan with a wooden spoon, she turned her head. “Of course. I’m not a fan of the bottled dressings. My mom used to make her own dressing before she died. Luckily, she taught it to me before I went off to college. I guess she thought I might need it because of all the salad college students eat.”

Tiffany snorted at her own joke.

“I forgot about your mom,” I said and realized too late at what I revealed.

“What?” Tiffany put down the spoon and turned to face me.

“I mean, I’m sorry about your mom,” I said as I leaned against the counter to appear casual as my heart pounded in my ear.

She hesitated but shook her head before turning back to the stove.

“It was right after I met John, my late husband. He was a senior at Northwestern and I was a sophomore. We had only been dating a few weeks and then, my mom had a heart attack.” She pushed the pan off the burner and turned off the heat.

Tiffany stood there, staring at the pan like a statue frozen in a memory. She sighed. “She was a great cook. A little too good. I think all the fattening food she loved to eat and the toll of being a single mom finally got to her. There’s a part of me that still regrets not being there when she died. Not holding her hand and telling her I loved her. She had done that for me a thousand times, but when she needed it the most from me, I was at some party at school. The music too loud to hear my phone.”

Coming up behind Tiffany, I put my hand on her shoulder. She turned and without a thought but loaded with emotion, I embraced her. Her pain was my pain. Not because I loved her. How could I? I barely knew the woman. No, it was because my life had been battered by that same regret. When I was too young to understand and when I was older and knew better.

Regret like that forces a person to make lonely decisions and unhappy mistakes.

Her arms came around my back, tightening. A fluttery soft sensation made circles on my back as Tiffany comforted me as much as I was trying to console her.

Tilting my head, I brushed my lips over the top of her head, inhaling. She smelled like garlic and flowers. Two scents that should work against each other, but for some reason, I had never smelled anything so amazing in my life. My hand lifted into her hair. So thick, that when my fingers curled, I wondered if she even felt it.

Her fingers stopped. It’s what they did next that caused my head to lower until my lips were brushing hers. Tiffany moved her hands to my ass. Nothing subtle. No light movements that could be mistaken for an accident.

They cupped my cheeks and dug in.

“Mom?”

Tiffany’s hands moved from my backside to my front in seconds, pushing me away from her. I grasped the granite counter so I wouldn’t fall to the floor. For a petite woman, she had some strength.

“Yes, David?” Tiffany said as she turned her back to me, to her son, and resumed cooking.

I glanced over at David as he moved closer to the kitchen. His eyes remained on his mother, refusing to even turn my way.

“Is it okay if Diego and I have dinner in my bedroom?” David asked as his voice cracked halfway through talking.

“Sure. Sure. Just eat at your desk.”

“Good. Uh, hi.” David finally turned his head toward me. His eyes remained glued to the floor, but at least I knew he was speaking to me.

“Hi, David. It’s nice to see you again. I guess we’re getting started after dinner.” My eyes bounced between him and his mom.

“Yes. In fact, if you take a seat over at the dining room table, I can bring you your plate,” Tiffany said.

I turned back to her and was surprised to find several bowls filled with pasta as she was grating a hard cheese over top.

“Why don’t you get something to drink for you and Diego, David.”

I suddenly felt out of place. David knew what to do and helped his mother without her having to say a word. Just before he was ready to leave with two cans of soda in his hand, she turned to kiss his cheek.

“Mom,” he groaned as his eyes flickered to me before shuffling out of the kitchen.

“What can I do to help?” I asked.

“Just bring these plates back to the boys. Thank you.” She handed me two large plates with salad, forks, and a bowl full of pasta on them.

I easily found David’s room from the sounds of explosions and gun fire. The boys leaped up as I placed the plates on his desk. They awkwardly thanked me before shoveling some angel hair pasta into their mouth.

Once I came back out to the main area, Tiffany had already placed our plates on the dining room table.

As she came over I tried my best to pull out her seat in time, but she waved me off.

“I’ve gotten used to doing everything myself. It feels weird when someone tries to help. I guess I’m just not used to it,” Tiffany said as I insisted on helping to push her chair in before I took my seat.

“Being alone for a long time will do that to a person.” I smiled at her as the aroma of the food made my mouth water.

The small, round wooden table caused my knees to bump into hers. A jolt of electricity seemed to make me sit up a little straighter.

“I’m not used to this sort of thing either,” I said.

And I wasn’t. The past twenty minutes felt nothing like a ninja session and everything like a date. It caused my neck to burn with doubt and my heart to surge with wonder.