It’s been six months and I’m not in a better place emotionally or productively with this divorce business. Not because I’m still wishing I had Ron back, but because Ron has found new ways to make my life hell. Divorce is not quick or easy to begin with, but Ron has found every way possible to make it worse. How I missed his mean-spirited ways when we were together I don’t know. Looking back, there were little warning signs, but I was so busy with school and clinicals and then deployment, I guess there wasn’t time to listen to Ron’s petty bullshit. To be fair to me though he kept that mostly to himself or shared it with friends. One year his brother decided to skip the family Christmas and take his kids to Jamaica instead and Ron pitched a nasty fit going so far as to withhold his niece’s and nephew’s Christmas presents, not sending them till May. I thought it was a dick move then, but I was leaving on deployment two days after Christmas and not in a position to argue or mail the gifts myself. That’s the kind of petty and cruel stuff Ron’s capable of.

Of course, considering Thea is the prize in this scenario Ron has upped his game to a higher level of asshole and I agree she’s worth the fight, but I can’t figure out why he wouldn’t want his daughter to have her mother even a little bit. It’s what’s best for the child. I’d never try to cut Ron out, even knowing what a bastard he is, because I understand she needs her father.

In his latest ploy to get full custody of her he told the judge that I was an unfit mother due to the PTSD. I haven’t had PTSD symptoms since before I deployed on the Comfort. He must have paid less attention to me than I thought because I have proof; I’ve had counseling and was released from treatment two years ago. Since I don’t want to leave anything to chance I contacted a local counselor named Dave and have started seeing him. Although neither he nor I think the counseling is necessary for PTSD it has turned out to be helpful in dealing with a whole new life that includes both military-to-civilian transition and divorce with a nasty ex. Luckily the counselor is an ex-Marine and understands a multitude of things I’ve gone through and has been a great listener and source of support.

On top of it all, Ron is pushing me to sell the house so we can split the profit, and although there isn’t much considering he bought it a year and half ago, there’s still something and he wants to get his greedy hands on it. I found a job about two months ago as a general surgeon at the veterans’ hospital and I love it. The people are friendly and diverse and being in an operating room is calming for me. I can control most of the variables and I’m fully trained to deal with any alternate scenarios that arise, unlike life in general, where I feel lost most of the time since I’ve come home.

I wish I’d had the option to go back home to Tampa when I got out. I miss the sun, the sand, the heat and most of all I miss my family. We’re close in a way many families aren’t and Ron screwed me by moving here. He knew I’d long for the comfort of Florida but be stuck here because I can’t leave Thea. My parents begged me to move home, but I couldn’t and eventually, with the help of my brothers, they finally understood that if I left I’d likely only see Thea twice a year.

* * *

I stand here ready to put the finishing touches on my lipstick and I wonder if I should call my friend Joyce and cancel. Why did I let her talk me into taking her seat at the homeless veterans’ shelter benefit where I’ll know no one? That’s never been a problem for me, considering I talk to people I don’t know every day for work, but social situations are different and I’m way out of practice. I can’t remember the last time I was out with friends or doing something that didn’t pertain to work or Thea. Joyce said that I’d be sitting at the table with two other couples and a friend of theirs, all of whom she promised are ‘very nice.’ When I explained that I didn’t want to be set up on a date, thinking of the extra person at the table, she laughed and said, “You have nothing to worry about. Once you meet Marv you’ll understand why I said that. He’s not the sort of man who’s looking to be set up and he’s much older than you are.”

I wasn’t sure if I should believe her since I’ve only known her for a couple of months, but I don’t have much choice since I already accepted the invitation. Joyce is the director of Veterans Coping Together, or VCT, an organization I started volunteering for on my days off when I don’t have Thea.

After talking myself into and out of going several times while I stood in the bathroom, I finally forced myself to go to the event. This is a classy affair held at a local country club. We’re talking $100 plates, black tie and diamonds galore. These people have serious money, but I guess if you’re looking for big donations this is the crowd you go to. When I arrive at my assigned table I’m pleasantly surprised to find everyone at my table already seated. Although we’re all dressed up and they’re younger than I am, I can tell we come from the same socio-economic class and it’s not the same as the rest of the people in this room. The one empty chair at the table is next to a much older gentleman who has obviously seen better days. He’s in a nice suit and tie and has his hair washed and slicked back but the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth are more pronounced, his skin is leathery and his smile has a few more holes than most. This is definitely Marv.

When I step up to the table all the men stand to greet me while Marv pulls my chair out for me. The lady to my right with the purple and turquoise streaks in her hair flashes me a brilliant smile and holds out her hand to shake. “Hi, I’m Marina and this is my husband, Dex.” He tips his chin toward me, giving me a half smile but says nothing. “Marv is the man who pulled out your seat.” I turn and shake his hand and note the calloused dry feeling of them. Next she turns to a lovely brunette. “This is Quinn, my husband’s partner—they’re both police officers—and that’s her husband, Judson.” I shake both of their hands and introduce myself.

“Joyce told us you were coming. I was hoping you didn’t chicken out. Sometimes being new is so hard.” I can’t help but grin at her. Either Joyce told her what my concerns were or she’s just the type to understand. Dex stands and leans into his wife, “I’m going to get you a fresh drink, do you want the same thing?” She nods and he kisses the back of her neck in an innocent yet intimate way that causes me to blush and glance away. Ron never did sweet little gestures like that, not even in the beginning.

“Valerie, what would you like to drink?” I look back, surprised by the offer. I don’t know why I’m surprised considering all the men at this table seem to have impeccable manners, but I am a little. “Merlot would be lovely, thank you.” He tips his head to me, kisses her neck in the same spot and strides away.

I can’t help but watch him as he goes. Dex is tall and well-built, with shoulders that could probably hold the weight of the world. Marina giggles next to me and when I realize she caught me staring at her husband, I’m mortified. It’s unlike me to gawk like that.

“Don’t be embarrassed. If he weren’t my husband I’d still stare.”

I laugh a little and confess, “I just don’t think I’ve seen anyone that tall with shoulders that broad. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful.”

“Oh, Lord, no! I didn’t take it that way. Besides, if I got upset every time someone looked at him like that I’d never be happy. Let’s face it, Dex is H.O.T.—hot. The funny part is I knew him when we were young and he was short and scrawny back then. Sometime after the age of 17 he grew into that.” She winks at me and I laugh some more. When I look back around the table Quinn is laughing and Judson is looking at Marv, both are shaking their heads like they can’t believe they’re caught up in this conversation.

“Come on, Marv, let’s go get a drink. My ears can’t take anymore,” Judson says and Marv mumbles something under his breath as the men leave us at the table.

Quinn asks, “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a surgeon at the VA. I got out of the Navy about six months ago and am new in town. What do you do, Marina? I know you said Quinn’s a police officer.”

“I’m a stable hand. I work for Judson at their horse ranch and I love it. I had to have some time off after I had the twins but I’m back at work now and absolutely love it.”

“How old are your twins?”

“They’re 16 months. Do you have any kids?”

“One, an 11-year-old girl. She’s with my ex tonight. We’re in the middle of a divorce.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Quinn offers.

“Thank you. I am too but I can’t do anything at this point except roll with my new life, so here I am.”

“Well, I’m glad you joined us tonight,” Marina tells me.

The evening goes well. I find Marv to be charming and funny, even if he is a little rough around the edges. Judson and Dex are friendly but quiet. A few times they’ve talked and it was usually to say something funny but sarcastic, qualities I’ve been surrounded by for years between my brothers and the guys I served with. Both Quinn and Marina are entertaining and sweet, women I can see forming friendships with. During conversation, I learn that Quinn and Judson met in college. She went on to be on the Olympic national pistol team and he went into the Navy SEALs. He lost his leg in an IED explosion and they got back together like 10 years later or something.

Marina and Dex had an equally interesting history, having been in foster care together when they were young but were later separated. Dex went into the Army, ended up losing his best friend and getting burned really badly so he got out and came back to town. Marina had a tough go of it after foster care and ran into Dex while she was being arrested for something she didn’t do. The stories were a little crazy and sounded like they were full of drama, but they were a good example of worst case scenarios turned good because both couples seemed very happy. That was the little bit of hope I needed.

I’m several glasses of Merlot into the night and a little more tipsy than I should be at an event like this when Marina drags me to the dance floor with her. Apparently, Quinn doesn’t dance much and neither do any of the men unless the song is slow. We dance through two songs before they change the tempo to slow. As we’re exiting the dance floor, Dex meets Marina and pulls her back out there. I don’t want to go back to my table because Quinn and Judson are sitting there, his arm wrapped around her shoulders as he whispers in her ear. My heart clenches at the tenderness I see between them and with the amount of alcohol I’ve consumed I can’t help but feel melancholy. I wanted that kind of love and connection with my own husband and instead I got a lonely bed and a quiet house. I stand uncomfortably near the edge of the dance floor trying to decide what to do next.

“Would you like to dance?” a deep voice asks from behind me and I turn to find another tall, broad-shouldered man. Do they clone that body type in a factory around here somewhere?

“Um…” What do I say? I don’t know this man.

My hesitation must be obvious because he says, “Come on. It’s just a dance. I promise not to bite, bella.” Beautiful. It’s Spanish the way he pronounces the last word bey-yuh and I melt at the sound of it. If the dark hair, dark eyes and olive skin tone didn’t indicate his Mexican heritage, his accent would have. I’ve always been a sucker for an accent; throw in a sweet term of endearment, in said accent’s native tongue, and I’m a goner.

“Yes, I’d love to dance.” He grins at me through his dark beard and takes my hand to lead me back to the dance floor. He pulls me into his arms and begins the smoothest waltz I’ve ever danced. What an amazing surprise to find such a large burly man so light on his feet. I’m glad I agreed to this. He asks a few basic questions during our dance, but mostly he leads me across the floor like Cinderella at the ball and when the song is over he lowers his head and captures my mouth with his. The promise of those full lips has nothing on the reality. They’re soft and strong in a way I’ve never experienced. His large palm slides to the back of my neck to hold me in place. I forgot that I’m standing on the middle of a dance floor with a man I don’t know. I take that brief moment to accept the passion he’s focusing on me. When was the last time I felt this kind of heat, this kind of spark? Have I ever? His tongue slips inside to tangle with mine, and I pause as I melt a little before I reciprocate, my hands moving of their own accord to his enormous shoulders. About the time I’m ready to strip off my dress and jump him in the middle of the dance floor, he releases me with one last sweet peck to my lips and bows before turning and fading back into the crowd.

Wow! When was the last time I danced with anyone like that, much less someone who knew what they were doing, smelled so incredibly good or was so handsome? When was the last time I was kissed like that? I’m going with never. Well, maybe once in college, but I’m not holding my breath and I can promise that guy didn’t hold a candle to this one. Why didn’t I at least ask his name? I’m an idiot. I rise on tiptoes hoping to see his shoulder length hair and beard over the crowd, but like I said, there are a lot of tall men here.

At the end of the night Marina gives me her number and tells me to call her. She says I can bring Thea out to the ranch when she’s working and they’ll get her on a horse. That would be huge brownie points for me because I can guarantee that Ron would never take the time to do something like that for her. He’s a good dad, makes sure she has breakfast, lunch and dinner. Makes sure she does her homework and takes her shopping when she needs new clothes, but to do something extra like that, well, he doesn’t seem to have the patience.

* * *

The sun is shining and the birds are singing. A week and a half after the benefit I’m on my lunch break seated out front of the hospital on a bench that faces the grassy knoll between the building and the parking lot relaxing. I had a procedure this morning but the rest of my day is consults and follow-ups. I’d be enjoying the quiet afternoon if it weren’t for the phone call I received at the beginning of my break from Gretchen, my lawyer. I like her, but her calls never seem to mean anything good for me and this was no exception.

I’m lost in thought, trying to come up with a plan moving forward when I see a familiar figure moving my way. Judson Rivers.

“Hey, Doc,” Judson greets me with a smile. As soon as they found out that I’m a doctor he and his friend Dex took to calling me Doc. I tried to nip that in the bud right away but they ignored me.

“Hey, Judson. What are you up here for today? Everything okay?”

“Annual physical. No big deal. More of a waste of my time than anything, but I do as I’m told and my wife said I’m not allowed to cancel. Your shift over?”

“No. Lunch break. I had to take a call from my lawyer so now I’m out here attempting to enjoy the afternoon for a few more minutes.”

“When I walked up the look on your face didn’t say enjoyment—it said pissed as hell.” He motions to the seat beside me and I nod for him to sit.

“My ex-husband is being a tool and I’m frustrated. I have no idea what to do.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really. Nothing anyone can do it seems.”

“Do I need to have a conversation with him?”

My laugh is humorless. “Nope. If you met him you’d wonder what kind of idiot I am to be married to that guy.”

“We all make mistakes, Doc. Just have to learn from it and move on.”

“The problem is I have nothing to fight back with except that he left me while I was on deployment and moved in with his girlfriend, taking our daughter with him. That makes him look like a jerk, but it’s not against the law. The other problem is this is his town. He knows everyone, or seems to anyway, so I’m the outsider. I’m screwed. I just have to bend over and take whatever he gives me.”

“Did you meet Javier Suarez at the homeless shelter dinner?”

“No, I don’t think so. Why?”

“Javie’s a private investigator. Good guy. He’s a vet too—Marines, I believe. It might be worth giving him a call and seeing what he can do. Maybe he can dig around and see if there’s anything that’ll be of help to you. Seems people always have something in their closest they’d like to keep hidden. Here, let me get his contact info and you can call him when you have a minute.”

* * *

It’s seven that evening and I’m finally seated on the couch with my heels resting across the cushions and a glass of wine in my hand. Javier’s number sits in my lap and for some reason I’m scared to call it. I’m afraid of what he’ll find. Ever since Ron dropped all of this in my lap I feel like I’m living in an alternate universe and I’m afraid for that to get worse. But Judson’s right—if there is something in his closet it might help me end the drama.

After a deep breath and a sip of wine I dial the number.

When the call is connected it’s loud in the background, like he’s at a party or in the middle of a dance club. “Suarez,” is all he says as he answers.

“Ah, um… Hi, Javier? This is Valerie Larinsky. I spoke with a mutual friend today, Judson Rivers, who told me I should give you a call. He said you’re a private investigator and might be able to help me. I’m in the middle of a nasty divorce.” I blurt it all out so fast I’m not sure he understands what I’ve said.

“Hi, Valerie. It’s true I’m a PI. I’ll have to thank Rivers for the referral. Hold on for a second while I step outside. It’s loud here.” The noise is muffled a little and then it’s quiet before he returns to our call. “Sorry, that should be better. Can you give me an overview?”

I share with him the basics and he says, “Okay, how about if we meet for lunch as soon as you’re available and we can talk about the case. Do you like Mexican food?”

“Um…”

He chuckles and the sound is rich and warm. I haven’t encountered warmth like that in a long time, except for the arms and lips of the waltzing pro at the benefit dinner.

“This deal is dead in the water if you don’t like Mexican food. I’ve got to keep my people in business.”

“Pardon me?” Did he really just say that?

More laughter from his end. “My tía—aunt—owns Hector’s Hacienda over on North Academy Boulevard. Anytime I can give her my business I do.”

“Oh, okay.” Laughing a little, I continue, “I like Mexican food, I just didn’t realize you’d want to meet with me. I’ve never used this kind of service before.”

“Yes, I like to get as much information as possible before I start and I like to get to know my clients a little. It’ll be painless and the food is out of this world so it won’t be a waste of your time.”

We finish the conversation with the address and a time to meet. When I hang up, I spend the next few minutes trying to figure out what Javier with the lovely laugh looks like.

* * *

When I step into Hector’s Hacienda, the aroma of tacos lures me to the hostess stand with the promise of a happy stomach. I love Mexican food, always have. I could eat it every day of the week. The young man who greets me, Pedro his name tag declares, is adorable in a college-age-boy kind of way. When I tell him who I’m here to meet he flashes me a wide smile and asks me to follow him.

When I get a glimpse of the man with the amazing laugh I’m taken aback. This is not who I pictured in my mind and I’m embarrassed. For some reason, maybe because he used to be a Marine, I had an image of an older, cleaner cut version of the guy in front of me and someone not quite so familiar. Javier, as it turns out, is the man with the amazing waltzing feet and unforgettable kiss. At least I have a name for the Don Juan dancing prodigy. It also explains why I felt the same warmth—the only warmth I’ve felt in reference to a man—from the man on the phone as from the fantastic dancer. It was the same man, I just didn’t know it. His smile is as amazing as his laugh and I’m certain I blush when he kisses my cheek. For a split second I consider turning my head to catch his lips with mine.

“Hello, bella. What a nice surprise.”

I grin at him feeling a little flirty. Although he’s a complete mystery, there is a familiarity with him that seems odd for someone I’ve only encountered once before. “Yes, it is.”

“Let’s order and then we can talk. I’m starving. I knew I was coming here so I skipped breakfast.”

I giggle a little and instantly hate the girlish quality of it. At 42 years old, I shouldn’t be giggling at anything.

“Do you know what you want?” he asks as I close my menu.

“Yes.”

“Pedro!” he calls.

“Hold your horses, Javie, geez,” the young guy scolds him as he approaches.

“I told you I was hungry. I’ve been dreaming of Tía’s tamales since last night.” He rubs his stomach and flutters his lashes like he expects heaven when he gets his plate.

Pedro takes my order and Javier says to him before he walks away, “Add a tamale to her order.” Then he turns his attention to me before I have a chance to decline. “Tía’s tamales are famous in the greater Colorado Springs area, at least try one. If you don’t like it, I’ll finish it.” Who can argue with that? Not me, so I smile and nod at Pedro.

I give myself a minute to take in Javier’s features before I start conversation. Just as I remembered from the other night, Javier’s skin is lighter than most of the Hispanic men I’ve seen around town, but not as light as mine. His full head of longish dark hair looks wild with the little bit of curl mixed in. His beard is thick and surrounds a set of perfectly-shaped full lips. Ones that I’ve fantasized about non-stop since the kiss. He says something about his family and I can’t help but smile at him even though I was so busy taking in his appearance that I missed what he said.

Javier pops a chip into his mouth and chews with a half grin on his face. I can’t help but smile back, my cheeks heating again, this time for no reason other than I remember what it was like to be in his arms.

“You’re not what I expected,” he tells me, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

“I can say the same. I never got your name the other night so I had no idea it was you when I called.”

“I apologize, it was rude of me. One of my guys was waiting for me to relieve him and I was on my way out the door when I saw you. I knew I couldn’t walk out the door without one dance. Those 12-hour surveillance shifts are hell so I couldn’t leave him hanging and I knew if I started talking to you I wouldn’t want to stop.” He grins at me as I blush. “My guy took on the extra hours so I could be at the event. I didn’t want to keep him waiting. I can’t say that I’m upset it’s you who showed up today.” This time he dips his chip in the salsa before he eats it. He’s so matter of fact about it and my mind immediately jumps to him shirtless, sweaty and tangled in my sheets. Oh my god! What is happening to me? Thoughts like that are so unlike me, but he seems to bring out the sexy, flirty thoughts and reactions hidden inside me.

Changing the subject, he asks, “So you have a nasty ex?”

“Yeah, he’s pretty bad.”

“Tell me again about the situation; it may help to get me started.”

I take the next 20 minutes to tell him everything that I know from Ron’s relationship with Sheila before we met until I separated from the Navy. I also explain that Thea is caught in the middle like a ping pong ball, but not by my doing. I never discuss with her what’s going on from my point of view in the divorce. She’s shared with me recently that her dad has been trying to get information from her that he might be able to use against me and has gone as far as to cancel my time with her saying she’s sick and then turn around and tell her that I didn’t have time to see her. Luckily, my daughter learned a long time ago how to communicate with me electronically.

The first time it happened I showed up at the house to pick her up anyway. He was pissed and made a big production because he was caught in a lie and I’m sure was embarrassed. When Thea went back home at the end of her time with me he made her life miserable so the next time it happened we got on Skype and spent the evening watching a movie virtually. There won’t be a third time or I’ll show up with the cops at his house to take custody of her. I already warned him through my lawyer. He’s asking for a ridiculous amount of alimony and being as nasty as a man can be.

Once I’m finished with the story of my asshole ex, Javier sits back in his seat and stares at me. Even under the beard I can see his jaw tick with irritation and I decide quickly I never want to be the subject of his ire.

“When do you need the information by?” He pulls out his phone and appears to be scrolling through something. “I have two other jobs going but I can get to work on it right away.”

“Whenever you can get it. We go to court again in six weeks so any time before that would be good. I don’t know if you’ll find anything, but I’d be grateful for something to fight back with. He’s pulled out every ugly thing he can think of when it comes to me. I’ve been playing nicely up till now, but I’m done with that.”

We discuss fees and I give him some necessary information to get started. By the time we’re done with lunch I decide I like Javier with the soft full lips, the magical dancing feet and the strong sense of justice.