"Fucking great."
*
"I think you guys are putting way the fuck too much pressure on yourselves. My God, you just got together three weeks ago." Matt dipped his chip into the bowl of hot salsa between them.
Bethany sucked down another drink of her frozen margarita before answering.
"I know. I keep telling myself that, but some of the little things he's done that have hurt me seem to feel so damn big. So big..."
Matt reached over and squeezed her hand. "So let's talk about something else. You and Damon will figure this shit out. You're too right for each other not to, okay?"
"Okay." She glanced down and forced the hot lump of regret in her chest to go back down. They would figure things out... maybe. Hopefully. "Did you ask Erica out?"
"No. She's a piranha." He laughed as Bethany gave him a look.
"She's a great girl and someone that you would-"
"I know. I've heard it a million times. No is my answer. I don't want a woman like her. Honestly." He shrugged. "She's beautiful and leaves my insides shaking with white-hot need, but she's not the kind of woman I want to emotionally tie myself to."
"Why is that?"
"She's like Damon. Strong, confident, a bitch and a half, and I love it. I would become her lap dog in public and put a collar on her in the bedroom. She would bring out the worst parts of me." He reached over and pulled Bethany's drink toward him. He took a drink and licked at the salt on the side before grimacing. "This tastes like shit."
"You lick the salt first, nugget-head." She laughed and showed him how to do it.
"I'll just stick to beer for now. Thanks." He lifted his beer in the air. "Things are going to work out. I promise."
"I hope so." She hit her glass against his and let Matt move the conversation to more relaxed, fun topics, which he did well.
*
Finding Damon asleep on the coach of the room when she got back that night was a little concerning. He had to know that she went out, but how long had he been in the room waiting on her?
The roses were in a vase on the desk, and a card sat beside them, unopened. Had he gotten it for her for their dinner date?
Guilt pumped through her as she opened the card and turned to face him. The soft sound of him breathing let her know that he was asleep. She glanced up from the card and let her eyes move along him as the moonlight spread across his sleek figure. He was in slacks and nothing else, his beautiful body like something out of a wet dream.
Beth,
Give me time, and I'll give you patience. Give me grace, and I'll give you trust. Give me your heart, and I'll treasure it forever. This isn't the end, but the beginning, right? Sure feels like the opposite is happening. Where are you tonight, baby? Is there someone else you'd rather be with than me? Who is he? How can I be more like him? Am I not enough?
There's so much to work through, but for me... you're it. I'm willing to keep pushing forward if you are. I hope you are, Beth, because despite it being three weeks, I love you.
D
She pressed her fingers to her lips as a sob lodged in her chest. There he was... the man she'd fallen in love with. He was tucked somewhere deep inside the asshole across the room.
After setting the card down and changing into a tank top and panties, she walked across the room and sat down on the bed beside him on the couch, brushing his hair back as tears rolled over her cheeks. It would be so easy to wake him up and make love to him for the rest of the night, to forget the hurt and work toward something better, but she couldn't force herself to do it. She'd never cheat on him, and though that was his main hang up, she shouldn't have had to convince him that she wasn't out with another man.
Well, no one other than Matt, and he didn't count.
She leaned over and kissed his head a few times as he grumbled and rolled onto his side, putting his back to her. She kissed his shoulder and got up, pulled the top cover off the bed and put it on him before getting in the over-sized bed beside him and trying to force herself to get some sleep. They had another long day on Sunday, and she needed to be on her toes. Otherwise, something told her that she'd have Delilah in her face, which wouldn't go over too well.
Wonder if she needs a nose job too.
Chapter 17
Damon
The light mist that covered the golf course that next morning ushered in an odd peace that Damon needed more than he wanted to admit, even to himself. Bethany had come in from her date, or whatever she'd been doing, opened the card and left him on the couch. It was a clear sign that things were headed toward being over. It was too much to consider, so like he'd done his whole life, he boxed it up and tucked it away. Fuck it. All of it.
"So you think you guys going down to Florida next weekend will help some?" James Talling glanced up as he wiped off the tip of his putter.
"Absolutely." Damon nodded and glanced over to Patrick. "Pat's going down there, and some of our other hard-hitting staff. We'll wrap everything up and set up new procedures and processes. It will be a brand new operation by the time we leave."
"And all in a weekend." Patrick chuckled and walked out to the fairway beside Damon as James moved up to take his turn. "We missed you last night. Ben thought you were going to join us."
"Yeah. Too much to do. I had to work for a few hours and then I passed out. One too many bourbons, I guess." He crossed his arms over his chest and tried not to think about how good Bethany looked laying in the bed that morning, still sound asleep. The covers had pulled off of her as she lay on her side, and her tiny white panties left so much skin on display. It took every ounce of denying himself not to bend down, tug them to the side and eat her for breakfast. Any other morning and he would have.
"You all right?" Patrick's expression hardened a little as his eyebrows furrowed.
"Yes, just a lot on my mind, but nothing I'm willing to discuss." Damon nodded as James walked toward them.
"Of course, boss. Just know I'm here if you do."
"Thanks." Damon took the putter from James and smiled. "You're not going to win this one, my friend."
"The story of my life." He laughed as they passed. "The only success I have is Zarpeth, and it's started to crack at the seams too."
Damon turned at the older man's confession. Zarpeth crumbling was a serious situation, not just for the revenue, but because M&B was tied to the company's reputation as they were all of their audit clients.
"What do you mean?" Damon pressed the putter in the ground and gripped the top with both hands as he leaned forward and stretched.
"Hm?" James turned back to face Damon. "Oh, I'm just being a cynic. Everything is good outside of this inventory mess. I was referring to all the other shit in my life."
"Like?" Damon stood back up and swung a few times, feeling much better about James' explanation. There wasn't room for too many more shit storms in his life right then.
"Dana is filing for divorce next week." He shrugged. "I guess all these years of me working eighty-plus hours a week finally got to her."
"That sucks. I'm sorry to hear that, man." Damon moved toward his ball and hit it once. It sunk in the whole and James growled loudly.
"You get all the lucky balls, don't you?" He laughed as Damon lifted his eyebrow at him and walked toward the cart as Patrick moved to take his turn.
"I'm not sure lucky would be the word. My life is a bit of a mess right now too." He ran his fingers through his hair and stretched again.
"Can't be worse than mine." James slipped his hands in his pockets and let out a shaky breath.
"You love her?" Damon couldn't help but ask.
"Yeah, man. With all of my heart, but love isn't enough."
"No? I've always heard that if you had love, you had everything. Doesn't love heal all wounds and stop time or some crazy shit like that?" Damon forced a smirk though his heart ached deep in his chest.
"I wish." James glanced down toward his feet. "She's trying to take custody of our twin boys, and though I'd rather be skinned alive and dipped in acid than hurt her, I have to fight for them. She's going to take it as an attack, and I fucking hate that, but what else am I supposed to do?"
"How old are they?"
"Ten. They need me." He chuckled and glanced back up. "Fuck. I need them. I need her, but she won't hear me."
"Women are complex. Have you asked what the source of her hurts are?"
"Yeah, but I can't let go of the company."
"Sure you can. You've built it from the ground up. Hand it over to a well-qualified team of managers and go get your wife back."
"It's not that easy, but maybe you're right. I'll think about how to do that. Even if this is it for me and Dana, I still owe the next woman in my life a better chance at a relationship than I gave my wife."