Joss
No matter how many times I looked at myself in the mirror, my reflection stayed the same.
Hair: Cute ponytail with a few pieces of hair deliberately allowed to escape to create a casual, I’m-not-obsessed-with-my-appearance kind of look.
Makeup: Pretty. I should wear eye makeup more often.
Ass: On point, if I do say so myself. These jeans are the best.
My doorbell rang, and I snuck another look at myself before answering it. Why had I thought my ass was too big before? Carson was right; my ass was perfect.
I was nervous about meeting his friend from the army tonight. It felt like a big thing. Hopefully, I would make a good impression.
As I opened the door, I put on my most confident smile. It slid away when I saw it was not Carson standing on the other side, but Dean.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, an edge in my tone.
I was nervous enough; I didn’t need my ex-husband showing up unannounced.
“Hey,” he said, giving me a sheepish grin.
I scrunched up my face with confusion. “Yeah . . . sorry, but I’m heading out shortly. Do you need something?”
“Can I come in?”
I groaned inwardly. This was my place and mine alone. Dean had never been inside, and I didn’t really want him there.
“I just . . .” He ran a hand through his hair and grinned again. “I’ve been looking for that picture of me and Jack from med school graduation. He wants it for the slideshow at his engagement party.”
“Oh.” I shook my head and stepped aside so he could come inside. “Sure. I think I have it in a photo album.”
“Thanks.”
He looked around, and I had to stop myself from asking him not to. I’d never have shown up on his and Amanda’s doorstep.
“You and the maintenance guy,” he said, taking a framed photo from the shelf of a bookcase. “Must be serious.”
“It’s Carson,” I said, opening the door of an armoire where my photo albums were stored.
“And he, uh . . . does it for you?” Dean asked, sounding puzzled.
I felt a flare of anger in my chest. “Yes, he does.”
“Huh. Always thought you were into smart guys.”
“Carson is very smart,” I said defensively. “Don’t let his amazing body fool you.”
Dean smiled knowingly. “Ah, got it.”
“Got what?” I asked, flipping through the pages of a photo album.
“It’s just a sex thing. Nothing wrong with that.”
I sighed with aggravation. “It’s not just a sex thing.”
“Everybody needs a little rebound action sometimes, Joss. Nothing wrong with it.”
I was about to argue his point again when another voice interrupted.
“Nothing wrong with what?” Carson asked from the doorway.
His expression was closed off, and I couldn’t tell if he was angry. But whether or not he was, I felt guilty for letting Dean in here.
“Dean thinks he knows it all,” I said to Carson, pulling the photo I was looking for out of my album.
I stood and handed the photo to my ex.
“Thanks,” he said as he took it. “I’ll get it back to you.”
“I don’t want it back.”
There was an awkward pause before he responded. “Right.”
Carson cleared his throat. “You need anything else?”
“Uh, no.” Dean looked at me. “Thanks, Joss.”
He left then, and I turned to Carson as soon as the door closed behind him.
“He just showed up out of nowhere wanting that picture.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
Carson shrugged. “You’re with another man now, and he’s jealous.”
The suggestion made me laugh out loud. “Dean? No. He lost all interest in me a long time ago.”
His expression was doubtful. I wrapped my arms around him and looked up into his eyes.
“You’re the best man I’ve ever been with. Have I told you that?”
He smiled and kissed me softly. “No, but I already knew I was a hell of a lot better than that asshole.”
“Let’s forget about him. I just want to think about you.”
“Oh yeah? Dirty thoughts, I’m hoping.”
“Very dirty.” I grinned at him. “And if we weren’t meeting your friend in a few minutes, I’d be doing more than just thinking.”
Carson groaned and cupped my ass in his big palms, kissing me again. “There’s always later.”
He took my hand and led the way to the door. Outside, the New Orleans afternoon was sunny and muggy. Though I’d been on the back of it once before, I still felt a ripple of nervousness when I saw Carson’s motorcycle parked in front of my apartment.
Just like the first time we rode on his bike together, he put a helmet on my head and secured the strap. Then he put his own on and got on the bike. I slid onto the back and wrapped my arms around his waist, remembering what he told me about not squeezing the life out of him.
My heart raced as he took off, but it settled within a couple of minutes. By the time he parked in front of a downtown restaurant ten minutes later, I was kind of sorry to see the ride end.
As soon as we walked into the sports bar, a tall, fit-looking bald man stood up from a booth near the door.
“Hey, man,” he said to Carson.
“Swanson,” Carson said with a grin.
After a short, back-clapping man hug, Carson gestured at me.
“This is Joss.”
“Danny Swanson.” He shook my hand and smiled warmly. “It’s great to meet you.”
“You too.” I gave him a nervous smile. “Should I call you Danny or Swanson?”
He grinned. “Swanson. That’s what my friends call me.”
We sat down and ordered iced tea and sandwiches. Swanson was on leave from the army, and he caught us up on what things were like in the Middle East these days.
Carson felt stiff next to me, his shoulders set tensely. I sensed it was hard for him to hear about the place he’d served, but he seemed interested at the same time.
“Had to get shrapnel dug out of my leg a couple months ago,” Swanson said. “Fuckin’ IEDs.” He glanced at me and smiled. “Wouldn’t have been so bad if I’d had a doctor like you to work on me.”
“She’s an obstetrician, dumbass,” Carson muttered. “She can only work on your pussy.”
“Fuck off,” Swanson said, laughter in his voice.
Carson leaned his head against mine as if he were confiding a secret. “He’s got a hairy one. I saw it once in the shower.”
“Please,” Swanson said with a laugh. “My balls are bigger than yours, son.” He turned back to me. “So how’d this dipshit pull a woman like you? He paying you or something?”
“He fixed the air-conditioning for me at work,” I said, squeezing Carson’s knee under the table. “I was pretty immediately smitten.”
“She never noticed me before that,” Carson said, wrapping an arm around my waist. “I’d check her out in the cafeteria, and she wouldn’t even look at me.”
“You know me,” I said, leaning against his shoulder. “I get lost in my own world sometimes.”
“This is a good dude right here,” Swanson said in a serious tone, nodding toward Carson. “Saved my ass many times.”
I looked at Carson, whose expression was dismissive. His eyes were shining with pride, though.
“You did the same for me, Swanson,” he said.
The waitress set down our iced teas, and we kept talking. I loved the warm, solid feel of Carson next to me. I’d never felt the gooey warmth in my belly for Dean that Carson brought on.
“You been back to Missouri at all?” Swanson asked Carson.
Carson shook his head. “No reason to go back.”
“You still have family there.”
“Just my deadbeat dad.” He shifted in his seat and changed the subject. “You seeing anyone, Swanson? Other than your hand, I mean?”
Swanson shrugged. “Not really. I’m never in one place long enough for that shit. And my hand is never whiny or demanding.” He grinned at me. “No offense.”
“None taken,” I said, laughing.
“I thought I wanted to be alone till Joss gave me a shot,” Carson said.
“You guys look happy,” Swanson said. “I hope to have that someday. Kids, a house, the whole thing.”
“You’d be good at that,” Carson said.
“So would you. Fixing the leaky sink with a kid on your hip. I can see it.”
Carson shook his head. “I’d be a shitty father.”
I turned to him, shocked. “You would not. How can you say that?”
He shrugged dismissively. “I had a lousy example, babe. You don’t want that kind of father for your kids.”
“Then . . . I’m just a way for you to pass the time?” I said, unable to contain the hurt in my voice.
“No.” Carson’s eyes darkened seriously. “Not at all. I’m just saying I don’t want kids, that’s all.”
“That’s all,” I repeated sarcastically.
Swanson looked as uncomfortable as I felt. The food arrived, and he tried to pick the conversation back up, but I felt like a switch had been turned off inside me.
I was polite, but once we’d said goodbye to Swanson and he’d left, I shut back down again.
“I’ll walk home,” I said to Carson, not meeting his gaze.
“Babe . . . come on. Let’s talk about this.”
“I need to be alone right now.”
He sighed heavily. “So you can get even more pissed off?”
I glared at him. “You of all people should understand the need to be alone sometimes.”
After a moment of silence, he said, “I care about you, Joss.”
“I care about you, too.”
“And it’s early with us.”
I slung my bag over my shoulder. “I know,” I said angrily. “I just need some time alone. I’ll call you later.”
“Let me take you home. I won’t even get off the bike.”
I exhaled deeply. “I don’t mind walking. It helps me think.”
He threw out his arms and shook his head, frustrated. “Fine.”
Getting on the bike in a hurry, he sped off without even putting on his helmet.
My heart thundered in my chest as I watched him ride off. Our first official fight had sucked. And the way I was feeling right now, I wondered if our first one would also be our last.