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CHAPTER 5

T RINA

“What did you think of that arson presentation?” Jack asks.

We’ve just left the last session of the fire service conference Elladine sent us to and we’re walking back to the hotel we’re both staying at. The hot Las Vegas sun warms me, and it makes me shiver just thinking about how cold it will probably be when I get back to Elladine tomorrow. March might be warm in Vegas, but it’s usually not in Ohio.

“It was good. But I had a really hard time focusing because of that guy snoring next to me. Ugh. Like, why are you here if you’re gonna sleep during the sessions?”

Jack chuckles. “I thought I was gonna die when he leaned against you like you were a pillow and you pushed him off.”

“He had the nerve to act offended! I’m never again going to sit anywhere but an end seat, so I have a quick escape.”

An amused laugh erupts from Jack. We walk a few more minutes when he says, “Your flight isn’t until tomorrow evening, right?”

I nod. I’m tired and want to get home. We’ve been here for five days and I’ve learned a ton, but I’m ready to go.

“I have about an hour and a half before I need to leave for the airport. Do you want to meet in the hotel bar in about a half hour for a drink before I go?”

“Sure. That sounds good.”

We walk through the revolving glass door at the hotel and head our separate ways.

A half hour later, after a quick shower and changing into jeans and a long sleeve T-shirt, I walk into the hotel bar. The Donley brothers are already there, seated at a high-top table across the room.

While it’s sweet that Ben and Jack are so close they turned this into a guy’s trip, I’m glad they’re leaving tonight. I like Jack, but I’m running out of excuses about why I can’t have dinners with them.

It’s been a month since the Valentine’s Day fundraiser, and I’ve avoided any social gatherings where I thought Ben might be present. He took me by surprise with his apology at the fundraiser. I thought I didn’t need him to say he was sorry—and that it wouldn’t make a difference—but when he did, and I saw his sincerity, some of my anger lessened. I don’t know what to do with that.

I love my job, and my life is full of love from Emily and Fitz, but Ben wasn’t wrong when he spoke about the desires of my heart. I’ve always wanted to have a large, loving family. Like the one the Donleys have. Yet, despite going on a lot of dates in the years since Ben and I broke up, I’ve not met anyone I can picture that happening with.

When I get to the table, Ben tries to stand to pull out a chair for me, but I’m faster than him and I’m in my seat before he has a chance. It’s petty, but I’m secretly proud I prevented him from accomplishing the small gesture.

Jack slides a shot and a glass of wine over to me and I notice he and Ben each have a shot and a beer in front of them. I raise a questioning brow at him.

“Patron Silver for each of us and a glass of chardonnay for you,” Jack says. “I’m a shit flyer, so I figured I should pre-game.”

“How’d you know I like chardonnay?” That would be one hell of a lucky guess.

“I didn’t. Ben did,” Jack shrugs.

I toss a quick glance in Ben’s direction. “Oh.” Since I feel awkward now, I pick up my shot and hold it up, waiting for them to do the same. When they do, we all down the tequila shots together.

We make small talk for a few minutes and Ben excuses himself; I assume to use the restroom. When he returns, he has another shot for each of us. We make quick work of downing those as well.It’s definitely making it a little easier to sit here at the same table as Ben.

I chuckle. “Well, you should handle the flight fine with these on board. Do you have a layover?”

“Yeah, two hours. Which sucks. I want to get home to Annie and the dogs. I figure it’ll give me time to get dinner at the airport, though.” Jack looks down at his watch.

“Hey, how’s Emily been doing lately with everything?” Ben asks.

I take a sip of my wine before I answer. She’s his friend, so it’s fair of him to ask.

“She’s doing okay. Her and Fitz have been working on doing some painting and light remodeling in her house so she can put it on the market this summer. It’s too hard for her to continue living there.” I stare into my wine glass as I speak.

“She’ll stay in Elladine, though, right?” Ben asks.

“Yeah, sure. Everyone she cares about is here. And she loves her job. She just needs a home that isn’t filled with so many memories.” I glance over at Jack and see sadness in his eyes. He’d been Teddy’s best friend since they were about fourteen years old. When Teddy died in September, it devastated him.

Deciding a change of subject is in order, I turn to Jack. “How are the plans coming for the wedding? It’s only three months away now, huh?”

Jack smiles. “Good. It’s all coming together pretty fast. I’m trying to help with as much as I can but, truthfully, I’d marry her in grubby clothes out in the backyard as long as she ends up my wife. Ben here says I need to be more involved in decisions, though, so I’m trying.”

“And how many weddings have you planned?” I challenge Ben, trying not to sound as spiteful as I feel.

“None. Always the groomsman, never the groom, I guess.” Ben’s smiling but it doesn’t meet his eyes.

“Well, that’s probably for the best. I’m sure the single lady population in Elladine would be sad to lose one of their favorite boy toys.” Shit, that sounded mean. Fucking Patron, causing my lips to be loose.

Jack clears his throat. “Well, as fun as it would be to stay and watch the fireworks as you two go at each other, I’ve got a plane to catch.”

“Sorry,” I groan. “Old habits die hard.”

Jack chuckles. “It’s okay. Don’t go too hard on him when I’m gone, though.”

“I won’t. Wait. What? When you’re gone?” The panic in my voice is obvious.

Now Ben’s the one laughing. “Yup. Jackie here invited me last minute, so I’m not on the same flight as him. I’m leaving tomorrow evening. When you do. When the only flight back to Ohio leaves.”

My jaw drops and I’m speechless.

“That, my friends, is my cue to leave,” Jack says. “See you later, Trina. Ben, I’ll see you at Mom and Dad’s for dinner Sunday, right?”

Ben nods, and Jack says goodbye and walks out. Leaving me alone with his twin.

“So, you gonna need another shot to get through sitting here with me?” Ben teases.

“You’re half joking, but, yeah, I think I am. I’ll go get this round.” I leap off my seat and head to the bar before he can stop me.

Five minutes later, I’m back at the table with two more shots of the smooth tequila—double shots this time. I set them on the table and return to the bar to grab the beer I ordered for him and the second glass of chardonnay for me. When I return to the table, Ben watches me warily, following my jerky movements with his eyes.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?” I pin my stare on him.

“Well, for starters, you look like you just found out you’re sitting at a table with Charles Manson. And you came back from the bar with more drinks and what appears to be a double shot for each of us. Not that I’m judging, but I don’t remember you being much of a drinker.”

“You hung out with me for a few months. That’s not long enough to know another person.” The irritation in my voice grates on my ears. “Maybe I’ve started drinking a lot more since then.” I pick up my shot and toss it back.

Ben follows suit.

“Trina, let’s get some dinner. Clearly that I’m still here tonight has caught you off guard, but I can’t drink this much without getting some food in my system.”

I search his face, looking for any hint of insincerity in it. “Is this some kind of trick?”

Ben grins that annoyingly handsome smile I’ve always hated—okay, not always. “Damn, you got me. I’m trying to trick you into eating so you’re not drinking on an empty stomach.” He rubs his hands together, trying to appear sinister. “You’ve foiled my evil plan.”

I watch him for several long seconds and, because it’s easier than sitting here awkwardly, I agree to dinner. Ben goes over to the hostess stationed outside the hotel restaurant and puts our name in for a table. I don’t miss the way the young woman ogles him the entire time he’s walking back to me. She’s probably looking at his ass—he’s always had a great one.

When he sits back at the table, Ben wears a huge smile. “She said ten minutes and there should be a table for us.”

* * *

BEN

Forty minutes after I’ve requested a table for Trina and me, a server delivers our steaming hot food to our table. The aroma of garlic and basil wafts toward me as the server sets the plates of lasagna and chicken parmigiana in front of us. She places a loaf of warm bread in the middle of the table and pours a small amount of olive oil with Italian seasoning on a plate next to it.

“Would you be able to bring us some butter for the bread as well?” I ask the server.

“Of course. I’ll be right back with it.”

I take the bread knife in my hand and cut the bread into slices. When the server returns to the table with the butter, I spread some on two of the slices of bread and pass them to Trina. Then I dip a piece for myself into the olive oil and place it on my plate.

When I glance back up at Trina, she’s staring at me, wide-eyed, and her lips slightly parted.

“What?”

“You didn’t want the butter for yourself? You got it for me?” Her voice is quiet, almost surprised sounding.

I shrug a shoulder and nod. “It’s no big deal. I thought you didn’t like the olive oil. You always preferred butter. If that’s changed, we can switch pieces.”

Trina shakes her head subtly. “No, it hasn’t changed. I just didn’t think you’d remember, though.”

We both dig into our meals and eat in silence for several minutes, and I get lost in thought as I eat. Trina thinks I’m a playboy—which I was before her—and she’s never really grasped what she meant to me. Hell, what she still means to me. I may have been young, but I loved her to the core of my soul. That she took a chance on me all those years ago was a miracle. That I fucked it up is my greatest regret. One I’ll likely never get over.

“Ben, can I ask you something?”

I look up into Trina’s striking eyes to find them fixed on me, her biting on a corner of her lower lip.

“Sure. Of course.” I pick up my beer to take a sip and brace myself for what she might say.

“Is it true you’ve only had sex with three people in the last nine and a half years?” She asks, her tone full of incredulous doubt.

I cough and sputter on the drink of beer I was in the middle of taking, not having expected her to ask that. After several long seconds, I’ve finally got my windpipe clear and can speak again. Right when I’m about to open my mouth to answer, our server approaches and asks if she can get us anything else.

“Can we have two more double shots of Patron Silver, a whiskey neat, and”—I glance at Trina’s near empty wine glass—“another glass of wine if she wants it.” I’m buzzed, but I’m going to need a little more liquid courage if we’re revisiting this conversation.

“Yes, please.” Trina smiles up at our server. When the girl walks away, Trina looks at me. “I’m hoping one of those shots is for me.”

“Yes.”

Trina narrows her eyes at me and tilts her head. “Yes, what? Yes, one shot is for me or yes, it’s true about…” Her voice trails off.

“Both. Yes, to both.”

Fuck, this is awkward. I should never have told her that detail at the Valentine’s Day fundraiser. I stare down at my food and focus on it as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

“And the other thing?” she asks. “Is that true, too?”

“Huh? What other th?—”

“The no kissing thing,” she blurts out. “Is that also true?”

Shit, I’m not sure I can have this conversation again. Or if it’s even appropriate.

“I’m not sure Joe would want us having this discussion,” I answer, trying to find an out.

Her eyebrows move so close together they practically touch, and she tilts her head and purses her lips. Speaking of kissing… “Joe who?”

I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest. What the hell game is she playing at? “Joe, your boyfriend from the Valentine’s Day fundraiser.”

Trina watches me with a blank expression on her face for a moment before her eyes brighten and her mouth turns up into a delighted grin. She’s chuckling when our server brings our drinks over, and she smiles at the girl, then thanks her.

I try to wait patiently while she works out her amusement at my expense, but I can’t take it anymore. “What’s so funny?” Irritation radiates from my voice, and I assume my body as well.

Trina looks at me. “Joe’s not my boyfriend, Benjamin.”

“Okay. Well, whatever you kids are calling it these days. Still, I don’t think he’d appreciate us talking about this.” I can’t keep the sarcasm and jealousy from my voice, and I hate it. I lean back toward the table again, rest my elbows against its top, and clasp my hands loosely together.

Trina matches my posture but taps the tips of her index fingers together. “Joe is the owner of the construction company that renovated the old apartment complex near the station. He’s the one who fired the kid you arrested at the bar in late January. And he was there to support the cause and make sure the kid—Guy—hadn’t given me any more problems before he and his crew left town for their next gig. He’s not my boyfriend.”

Relief floods me, though I don’t know why since it changes nothing between us. “Oh… I thought he was your date.”

“Nope. It was the second time I met him. So, answer my question since Joe wouldn’t give a shit about us having this conversation.”

I take a drink of my whiskey. “You answer one for me first.”

She homes her eyes in on mine. “Fine. What do you want to know?”

I wasn’t expecting her to be so agreeable.

“How many men have you been with since… since us?”

Trina’s eyebrows fly up toward her forehead. “You sure you want to know that?” I hesitate, then nod while she takes a drink of her wine. “By ‘ been with’ , do you mean have had sex with or anything physical?”

My stomach drops. I don’t think I like where this is going. “Abort! Abort!” my heart screams. But I suck at taking advice. “Sex, I guess.”

I watch as she lifts her eyes upward like she’s thinking and I glance at her hand, which is now hovering a little above the tabletop. I see her fingers moving slightly, like she’s counting. A pang of pain stabs me right in the left side of my chest. To ease my nerves about her answer, I remind myself she was only with one man until she was twenty-one and had only kissed two others. How many can there really be?

When she clears her throat, I search her face. “Four. I’ve had sex with four men, messed around with a couple of others, and kissed more than I can remember. Now I’ve answered everything you could ask. Answer me.”

Her cheeks are pink and her eyes are glassy. I suspect mine are looking the same.

My heart pounds relentlessly in my chest and my mouth waters as queasiness settles in my stomach. Why did I fucking ask? Every bone in my body quivers with jealousy right now at the thought of her being with anyone but me. I’m aware I don’t have a right to feel that way, but I do anyway.

I lift my glass of whiskey and finish it.

“Yes. It’s true. I haven’t kissed another woman on the lips since you.”

Trina pierces me with a questioning gaze. It’s almost as if I can see her warring with her own thoughts, opening and closing her mouth several times before she finally speaks. “Tell me why. I need to know why.”

I get a moment of reprieve when the server comes over to see if we’d like anything else and I hand her my credit card while she pulls up our check on the mobile checkout device she has. I peek over at Trina and notice that she’s finishing her glass of wine.

I push her double shot of tequila across the table to her and lift my glass to clink with hers. We down the shots.

“Walk with me, and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”