No thanks.
What he offered was enough. No expectations, only acceptance, respect, and love.
Very different from David.
The thought was like an uppercut, and for a moment she fought for breath. She’d done a terrible thing, and she was going to pay. Wolfe was wrong. Mistakes ruined lives, and by not following through, she’d let everyone down.
No. You protected yourself. You know why.
The inner voice whispered slyly, as if she knew much more and couldn’t wait to spill. But Gen didn’t want to hear it.
She swam to the dock and jumped back up, reaching for her beer. Her goal of drunken forgetfulness was the only thing keeping her together right now. Thank goodness for Mr. Samuel Adams.
Wolfe surfaced, pulled himself out of the water, and grabbed a beer for himself. Quickly arranging the towels over the battered dock, he lay on his back, bottle propped up on his belly, and stared up at the sky. With a sigh, she did the same, shoulders touching, drying off in the hot breeze, watching the first stars poke out from the clouds. The alcohol gave the scene a nice blur that dulled all the sharp edges.
“I should be on a plane to Bermuda,” she said.
“This is better. Pink sand is overrated.”
“The cake was coconut with chocolate icing. Five tiers.”
“I got you Sno Balls. They have coconut on them.”
A smile touched her lips. “True. My negligee was five hundred dollars of pure silk. Maggie got it for me in Europe.”
“Well, that’s just stupidity. Gonna be on for two minutes and ripped off you. Never understood the expensive underwear crap.”
“You modeled them and made a million dollars.” Maggie had turned Wolfe into a superstar of designer boxers, which he wore in billboard and magazine ads in place of formfitting tightie whities. Wolfe posed at a delicious side angle wearing simple black boxers, arms crossed in front of his chest, and a moody expression on his face. He was the rebel hottie incarnate. The tagline read F— Briefs: Wear What Feels Good.
The United States bucked the curse word. Europe loved it. He became a legend, a millionaire, and the biggest model in the industry.
He quit after a year to go to college for his business degree and to run Purity. Women still chased him, but he never threw his fame around, and since he was growing his hair and usually covered up his tat with long shirts, many never knew.
“It was a pisser for a while, but I’d never buy expensive boxers. Who’s gonna see them?”
A genuine laugh escaped her lips. He was so different. David adored anything with the right label, and he sniped about her boring wardrobe and lingerie constantly. “Agreed. But what about sex? Honeymoons are known for endless sun, drinks, and sex. I probably won’t have sex again for a year. Maybe more.”
“You got beer, the sun was just out, we’re by a lake, and I’m here. If you’re hard up, I’ll have sex with you.”
That earned him a punch that hurt her more than him. “Gee, thanks. You’re a real buddy.”
“They call them fuck buddies. You know, great friends who don’t want to mess up the dynamic so they just agree to occasional sex.”
“I hate that term, it’s so crude. I’ve seen every one of those movies and they all end up the same. One of them falls in love, the relationship explodes, then someone confesses their undying love and they get together in a romantic way.”
“Hence the word movie, Gen. Fiction.”
“Some movies are based on reality. Maybe those are, too.”
She felt rather than saw him roll his eyes. “Other than the occasional war film, no romance movies are based on reality.”
She turned over, propped up on her elbow, and stared at him. His challenge sung to her sense of competition. They both had a strange need to win, and could spend hours debating ridiculous points of inane information. “Marley & Me.”
“Oh, for God’s sake. I’m removing war, animals, and historical movies from the pool.”
“How many do I have to name?”
“Two is good.”
“What do I get?”
“I’ll protect you from Kermit.”
“Hardy-har-har. You have to tell me one secret you’ve told no one else. I don’t care what it is.”
She had no idea why that request popped out of her mouth. Gen waited for him to blow her off, and almost retracted her words. But something kept her silent. Probably since her life had exploded around her, she had nothing to cling to. A secret for a secret. Something to make her feel not so alone. Not so . . . broken.
Arilyn would have been proud of her ability to self-diagnose her issues. As the counselor of the matchmaking agency Kinnections, she counseled clients on awareness in relationships and helped break down barriers that would block their journey to happiness. Of course, knowing she had emotional problems because she’d run away on her wedding day still didn’t make her feel like snagging a gold star.
“Wolfe, forget it, I—”
“Agreed.”
Wow. She didn’t see that coming. Of course, now she had to find two movies based on real life that had some type of romantic relationship in them. No wonder he’d agreed. “Give me a minute to think.”
He rested his arms behind his head and gave her a cocky grin. “Take all the time you need.”
The lightbulb went on. “Titanic!” She beamed with pride.
“Buzz. Based on history. Disqualified.”
Her mouth fell open. “Oh come on! The love story is separate from the ship sinking!”
“You agreed to the rules. No history. Try again.”