Page 45 of Issued
The oaf nudges me with his beefy arm, nearly knocking me over. “So, what you’re saying is she doesn’t trust you enough to open up.”
I sigh. “Basically.”
Our therapist had talked about the need to be patient, and I’m trying. Patience has never been my strong suit when it comes to someone getting hurt or being in danger. I hated sitting idle when my men were in harm’s way. Or when we had to wait for a MEDEVAC helo when someone was wounded. I wanted results right away. And Taya being hurt is the same situation. I want to know what happened so I know if there is something I need to worry about. Some way I need to protect my wife.
Bear whistles in sympathy. “Well, at least you’re getting laid again,” he says, tone overtly bright.
This has become more than sex, more than duty. Taya is family. My heart gallops while my gaze shifts around the yard, refusing to land on my best friend.
Bear groans beneath his breath and shakes his head. “What the hell are you two doing, then? Holding hands in a circle and singing ‘Kumbaya’? You plan on buying her a fucking promise ring next?”
“Shut up.” My best friend would have a field day if he found out how often I’ve been rubbing one out. Between playing imaginary hide the sausage and dreaming about Taya at night, my dick is sore, my balls are blue, and I finished off an entire bottle of lube.
Again.
Bear crosses his arms over his chest. “Maybe it’s a good thing. You dodged the baby bullet. You may not be so lucky if you forget to pull out next time.”
We’re almost to the picnic table set up in the yard. Everyone was asked to bring a dish, so the table is weighed down by foil-wrapped pots and pans. The grill lets loose a steady stream of smoke and sizzling meat weaves its magic around my appetite. Bear isn’t done grilling me yet, so instead of heading straight for the food, I pause to allow him the opportunity to get it all out of his system in relative privacy.
Bear places both hands on his hips and surveys the yard. “Has she told you how she broke her arm yet?”
I cock my head in his direction. “You mean you don’t believe the gym story, either?”
Bear smirks. “In my professional opinion, it sounds like bullshit.”
“Well, when she decides to tell me the truth, you’ll be the first to know.” I shove my thumbs into the pockets of my jeans, watching as Leslie sneaks off toward the clown’s bag of tricks.
Bear’s fingers tap against his biceps, eyes focused on the soon-to-be-punished birthday girl. “What did her doctor say?”
“He gives it about five more weeks before she can get the cast off.” Five more weeks. It’s astounding that so much time has passed already.
“She must be happy to return to waitressing. Swear I don’t know whose resting bitch face is worse, yours or Taya’s, since she’s been stuck being hostess. And you won’t need to drive her to work anymore,” Bear says, trying to point out a silver lining.
Disappointment briefly darkens my mood. With Taya out of commission, I’ve been taking on more responsibility to accommodate us both. The extra effort is exhausting, but I chafe at the idea of giving it up. And she’s been bringing home food from the restaurant that the cook staff has given to help us out. Wonder if they know she can’t cook for shit.
Bear throws his head back, shaking with unbridled laughter, then looks at me, deadpan. “The lucky girl just had to sign some papers to marry you. Imagine if she had to march down the aisle to meet your grumpy ass.”
Once when I was younger, I played hide-and-seek with Lux. I dozed off while hiding in a tree in the neighbor’s yard and fell to the ground, landing on my back. The impact knocked the air from my lungs, and I laid on the grass struggling to inhale, to exhale, to do anything.
That’s how I feel right now, frozen from being stunned and trying to force my body to remember to breathe as Bear’s words bounce around inside my skull. All this time, I’d never thought about a wedding. Was Taya the kind of person who’d dreamed of her wedding day since she was little? Did she want to get married in a church? The program robbed her of that. I groan, rubbing the knot of tension in my stomach.
Bear quirks an eyebrow, tilting his chin in my direction, his eyes studying my face. “You wanna know what I think?”
“Not really.” I turn and make my way over to the table, avoiding Bear’s scrutiny and scanning the partygoers for signs of Marge. If I’m lucky, I can stack up a plate of burgers and hot dogs and scarf them down on the side of the house in shame before she realizes I’ve gotten into the food.
“I think you’re—”
A scream echoes from the kitchen, drowning out Bear’s final words. The sound of broken glass follows soon after, but I’m already on the move. Bear has a hard time keeping pace. Growing old, my ass. I smirk as I slide into the house, with him a split second behind. He stumbles into me, knocking me aside, but I’m too flummoxed by the sight before me to mind.
Taya is crouched near the stove, arms over her head and wild eyes glued to something on the ceiling. Marge is red faced and ranting, slapping a dishrag on each countertop as she stalks back and forth. I follow Taya’s gaze to the ceiling and drive my elbow into Bear’s side once my brain figures out what it is I’m looking at. “Isn’t that the pressure cooker I gave you at your wedding?”
“It’s the lid,” Bear says, calmly enough.
“I’m so sorry.” Taya straightens, color flushing her cheeks.
Marge slaps the counter again, red streaks covering every available surface. It’s plastered all over the ceiling as well, dripping onto the hardwood like rain. “It’s barbecue sauce. It was premade. All you had to do was defrost it and add the meat. How do you fuck up barbecue sauce?”
“I thought you wanted me to put it in the water,” Taya explains weakly. “You know, to thaw it?”
