Two of a kind, p.21
Two of a Kind, page 21
Sighing, he took his phone from his pocket and dialed Shane’s number. He’d had enough of this lone wolf stuff. He needed to spend time around people. The type who wouldn’t give him any space for introspection.
“Hi, Jack,” Shane answered, sounding distracted as usual. Being a single father of two seemed to have that effect.
“Hey, man. Look, I, uh…” He struggled for words, not accustomed to asking for help. “I gotta get out of my own head. You mind if I bunk down at your place for a couple of nights? Help you keep an eye on the boys?”
Shane chuckled. “Seriously? You’re asking if I mind?” A muffled noise came through the line, and he heard Shane say, “Hunter, get off the cat. You can’t ride her.” Then he was back. “I’ll buy you a six-pack and a chocolate cake if you can get me an hour of alone time so I can finally shower and shave.”
Jack grinned. Exactly what he’d wanted to hear. “Done. I’ll be there soon. Tell the boys to get their fishing rods and camouflage gear out.”
Shane released a long, weary sigh. “I appreciate it. You’re a lifesaver.”
27
Jack survived a week with Shane’s unruly sons before he retreated to his fortress of solitude. On his first morning back home, where he woke—blessedly—without a miniature face above him, he rose early and went to the marina, where his boat was docked and ready for a dolphin spotting cruise.
A lone man waited nearby, his designer jacket zipped to his chin to ward off the chill. He was leaning against a post, jean-clad legs crossed at the ankles, and when the breeze ruffled his perfectly coiffed hair, his hand shot up to flatten it. Light flashed off the gold ring on his left hand.
“Mornin’,” Jack grunted.
“Lovely day, isn’t it?” the man enthused, coming toward him. “Jack, I presume?”
“Yeah.”
He extended a hand. “I’m Warren Pinkly.” He looked at Jack meaningfully. “I’m coming on the cruise with you this morning.”
“Good to meet you, Warren.” He checked his watch. “You’re a bit early. You’ll have to excuse me, but I have a few things to sort out, and there are another five people due to arrive before we begin.”
Warren clasped his hands together in front of his crotch, as though shielding his balls. Weird guy. “One of those other people is my wife. She’ll be here any minute. She just went to fix her lipstick.”
Jack fought the urge to roll his eyes. Of course she had. That was in keeping with Pinkly’s persona.
Don’t judge, he warned himself. It wasn’t his place to criticize others’ priorities.
“Right. Well, I’ll get a move on, and be back soon.” He nodded to Warren and headed for his boat.
Twenty minutes later, he’d readied everything for the cruise and returned to the marina, where another four people had joined his strange passenger. They turned to face him, and he stiffened, suddenly feeling like a pane of glass that had fractured down the center.
Warren’s wife had dyed-blonde hair, streaked in a way that was intended to appear natural.
Hair he’d buried his hands in.
She also had painted pink lips, which he’d kissed a thousand times before.
“Claudia.”
“Hi, Jack.” Her voice was as soft as he remembered. Her eyelashes—or rather, her eyelash extensions—fluttered. “How are you?”
He stared at her, scarcely able to believe she was here. “You’re married?”
She seemed taken aback by the question, but those pink lips curved in a smile. “Yes, for two months now.”
Two months. Jesus. The two of them had only broken up a couple of years ago, and she hadn’t mentioned being engaged when he’d seen her a few months back.
“Congratulations.” The word tasted bitter. “No wonder I didn’t recognize your name on the manifest.”
“Oh, you didn’t know,” Warren said, drawing his attention. The man was nodding like everything made sense now, but nothing made sense to Jack.
“Why would I?” He shrugged and turned his back, masking his turmoil. “We don’t talk.”
That was the way he preferred it. Why would he have anything to say to the woman who’d effectively told more than a hundred thousand people that he wasn’t up to her standards, and broken his heart in the process? He pretended to check something on his phone while he struggled for composure, then pocketed it and glanced from one member of his group to another, skimming over Claudia.
“Hi, all. Great to see you here. Are you ready to spot some dolphins?”
The response was a resounding yes, despite the curious glances between Jack, Claudia, and Warren. The sixth member of the expedition joined them, and Jack began his usual spiel about water safety, followed by a disclaimer with regards to whether they would actually see dolphins. He said all the right things because he’d said them hundreds of times before, but inside he was a seething mass of emotions.
Why was Claudia here? It couldn’t be a coincidence. Had she tracked him down on purpose? Was she flaunting her ring to show him what he’d missed out on? What he could have had if only he’d swallowed his pride and changed an integral part of himself? Peering over at her, he didn’t think she looked like a woman with vindictive plans. She looked happy, hanging on her fashion-conscious husband’s arm, and murmuring in his ear.
She looked like a woman in love.
Jack led the group to his boat and helped them aboard one by one, holding onto Claudia’s arm as briefly as possible then releasing her as though she’d singed him. Hurt flickered in her mint green eyes, and he pretended not to see. Where did she get off giving him that wounded puppy look anyway?
When they were all aboard, he explained how the morning would go, and invited questions. There were none, so he left the group to outfit themselves with life jackets, disconnected the boat from the dock, checked everyone had geared up correctly, and started the engine. For the next half hour, he steered the boat through the bay, to the spot where the school of dolphins could usually be found at this time of day. His guests leaned over the sides, scanning the water to check for sleek gray fins or snouts.
Claudia rose and came over to him, perching in the empty co-captain’s seat. “Hey,” she said, her tone gentle. “It’s good to see you again.”
He grunted something unintelligible.
Undaunted, she continued, “I’m pleased everything has worked out for you. I know you always wanted to be out and about doing something like this, rather than stuck in the shop all day.” She tucked a blonde lock behind her ear and laughed self-consciously. “I should never have tried to turn you into a city man. Even a fool could see you weren’t cut out for it.”
He shrugged, simultaneously annoyed by her tone and disarmed by her candor. They’d never been particularly open with each other, and perhaps that had contributed to the horrible way their relationship had ended. She’d wanted him to change and tried to prod him along rather than coming out and saying it, and he’d resented every subtle dig she made and viewed her veiled comments as emotional manipulation. Their relationship had been a series of silences interspersed with moments of passion and screaming fights.
“We should have talked more,” he said.
“Yeah.” Her gaze darted over to her husband. “We should have.”
“Does he make you happy?” He wasn’t sure why he asked, but he didn’t take the question back. Perhaps it would be nice to know that it was possible for someone who had failed in a relationship as spectacularly as she had to be part of a healthy one now.
She smiled. Possibly the most genuine one he’d ever seen from her. “We are. I just…” She trailed off.
“What?” he prompted.
She turned to look out over the water, her cheeks pink despite the cool wind. “Sometimes I can’t believe he really wants me. I wake up and think ‘how can this amazing guy really have chosen me, out of all the women he could have had?’”
Jack flinched. While she hadn’t meant it as an insult, it flat-out sucked to hear how much more she thought of Warren than she had of him. But besides injuring his pride, it didn’t hurt the way he would have expected. Maybe that was because he no longer loved her. In fact, except for the lingering resentment, he didn’t care about her one way or the other. Claudia had found what she’d been searching for, and that didn’t bother him in the least.
Someone called out, and he turned in time to see the dorsal fin of a dolphin break the surface. Another followed. And another. They circled around the boat, curious.
“Wow,” Claudia breathed. “They’re beautiful.” She glanced up at him. “I can see why you love it out here.”
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.
The dolphins frolicked beneath the water, surfacing occasionally to investigate their audience, or perform for them. Cameras snapped, and Jack sat back and enjoyed their excitement. This was why he loved what he did.
Claudia hurried over to Warren, who handed her a camera. She leaned over the edge of the boat and snapped photographs of the dolphins while her husband held onto her waist, anchoring her. They worked as a team. A unit. When she finished, he took the camera and photographed her against the backdrop of the ocean, pausing while she changed positions as smoothly as a model at a photo shoot. Then he tucked the camera away and together they posed for a selfie with the dolphins behind them, using a cell phone on a selfie stick. They looked ridiculous, but in all the time he’d known her, Claudia had never smiled like she was now.
But then, this was what she’d always wanted, wasn’t it? A man who was content to escort her around, humor her obsessive need to photograph everything, and be a suitably stylish companion to brag about to her followers. She had it all now, and it looked good on her. The tension that used to stiffen her shoulders wasn’t there, nor was the sharp edge in her voice. He couldn’t help but wonder, had he caused those things? Had he made her as miserable as she’d made him? It had never occurred to him before that perhaps he wasn’t the only one who’d suffered in their relationship.
The truth struck him like an anvil: Claudia may not have been a good fit for him, but he hadn’t been good for her, either. Yes, she’d screwed up and that had been the final nail in the coffin, but at the heart of the matter, they simply hadn’t been suited to each other. One of them would have called a halt to things sooner or later.
With Warren, she was a better person. For some reason, seeing them gave him hope that one day, he’d be able to open his mind and heart to a new partner the same way she had. Someone who was more compatible with him. Strange how he’d never realized quite how badly he wanted that until now. Seeing them together, it really hit home how alone he’d allowed himself to become because of his fear and bitterness.
He processed this new perspective while his clients watched the dolphins. When the pod moved on, he steered them back to the marina, remaining silent during the trip and allowing them to converse amongst themselves. He kept an eye on Claudia and Warren, who had their heads ducked together over their camera screen, talking in low voices. They worked well together. Kind of like he and Brooke had.
Brooke.
Even thinking of her brought a pang. He shook his head, trying to forget the way her eyes had flashed with anger when last they’d spoken. Then how they’d become shiny with unshed tears.
Don’t think about her.
After what felt like an eternity—too long to spend in introspection—he docked and helped the group off. Claudia was the last to disembark.
“Thank you, that was wonderful,” she said, and then paused, as though weighing her next words carefully. “I read an article online about your new girlfriend.” He must have frowned because she clarified, “The one you’re going to Mount Everest with. It seems like you found someone just as crazy about the outdoors as you. I’m happy for you.” Then she patted his hand and walked away.
Just like that, the cogs slipped into place. Jack’s grip slipped from the boat and the world tilted until he managed to right himself. All this time, he’d been thinking of himself and Brooke as opposites because that’s how it appeared from the outside. But on the inside, where it counted, they were the same. They both wanted the same things. They were both adventurers. Sure, she’d had a tougher run of it than he had, but that didn’t make the core of her personality any different, or lessen her wild spirit. She sure as shit was as stubborn as him.
Forget opposites. He and Brooke were two of a kind. And suddenly, he wanted to see her with a desperate, aching longing. He’d acted like an idiot, yet again. Yeah, she’d been too open with the world about their relationship and revealed things he’d rather people didn’t know, but he’d made a lot of assumptions without much in the way of evidence. He’d judged her harshly without giving her a chance to explain. On top of that, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d deliberately pushed her away because he was afraid of being hurt. He hadn’t been willing to risk his heart, and she’d given him the excuse he needed to bow out.
Had he destroyed her feelings for him? God, he hoped not.
* * *
Jack knocked on Brooke’s bedroom door. No one answered. He tried again. “Hey, are you in there?”
Still nothing. He wiggled the handle. Locked.
“She’s not here.”
Spinning on his heel, he spotted Kat at the end of the hall. “She’s not just ignoring me?”
Her mouth tightened into a line. “Nope. But fair warning, while I’m trying to stay neutral, I’ll have to choose a side if you start harassing her. Why are you here, Jack?”
He paused. Why was he here? He hadn’t really thought it through. He’d just finished his cruise and driven straight over, compelled to see her. “I want to talk.”
“Talk, as in a two-sided conversation where you each speak and listen? As opposed to you telling her what she did wrong and refusing to let her defend herself?”
Ouch. Guess he needn’t wonder whether Kat knew how everything had gone down.
“Yeah, that’s right.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Do you know when she’ll be back?”
She took pity on him. “Not until tomorrow. She’s visiting her parents in Tauranga.”
“Oh.” That took the wind out of his sails. “Guess I’ll be back tomorrow then.”
He drove home, and the blue of the sky seemed a bit dimmer. He helped himself to a can of beer, then sprawled on one of the deck chairs outside, soaking up the sun and pondering his relationship with Brooke. Halfway into the beer, he remembered the question she’d asked when he confronted her.
Did you read all of it?
The truth was, he hadn’t. Even if he’d wanted to, he wouldn’t have had time. Getting to his feet, he strode to his office and switched on his laptop. He drained the beer while the computer awakened, then entered her blog’s URL and waited. The first items to appear were two photographs side by side. One was of a teenage girl in a hospital bed, tubes sticking out of her body, her eyes sunken and limbs spindly. His breath caught in his chest. He hardly recognized her as the woman he knew. The adjacent photo showed his Brooke, covered in mud and grinning, her arms around Kat and Bex. He swallowed, and a lump burned its way down his throat. Tearing his gaze from the photographs, he selected the oldest post, dated seven years ago, and began to read.
Three hours later, he’d caught up on everything prior to the New Year’s Eve party, and his insides were wrung out. He was emotionally wrecked. Brooke had told him she’d always been ill, but he’d never realized the extent to which it had affected her. Reading her blog was like poring through her private diary. She shared every setback, every doubt, and he understood now why her readers had turned up to support her at the mud run. She’d come so far, and she was an inspiration to them all.
With trepidation, he read her first post after the fateful New Year’s Eve party. She’d been positively giddy. Raving about how much she admired him, and how wonderful their kisses had been. Flash forward a few days, and she’d been confused. A little hurt. Another week and hurt had escalated to anger. He swallowed. His eyes wanted to shut so he didn’t have to read about how he’d upset her, when that was the last thing he’d ever intended. Shame clawed at his gut. He’d been a massive prick, even if it had been unintentional. No wonder she’d lashed out online.
When he reached the post he’d already read, he scanned over them again, making sure he didn’t miss anything. Then he carried on, coming to a post the following day.
Thanks to everyone for the comments and suggestions. I’m a bit embarrassed about venting to you all. I appreciate your thoughts and well wishes, and I’m going to do my best to take the high road. I’ll try to forget what happened and focus on the important thing. I need Jack to help me get in shape and tackle some big challenges on the horizon. I’m excited for them, and I’m sure you will be too when you hear what I’ve got planned.
And that was the last time she mentioned him in a negative context. He continued reading until after the mud run, and she only ever extolled his virtues or referred to him in the context of training. There had been no grand scheme to humiliate him or crush him, heart and soul. He’d been completely and utterly wrong.
Slashing a hand through his hair, he swore. He’d made baseless accusations. Not once had she said anything about breaking up with him, or manipulating him for the sake of revenge. She’d wanted to make use of his skills to help her in her mission, but he’d known that from the beginning. And yeah, he’d rather his private life stayed private, but she hadn’t lied or tried to get back at him. What’s more, it seemed she actually cared for him.
In short, he’d overreacted and been a real fucking jerk. He exhaled, long and shaky, then scrolled to some of the more recent posts. She’d done a big write-up about the mud run, including all the people she’d met, how some kind strangers had encouraged her to get to the end, and the dinner she’d shared with her new sponsor. He gobbled up the information, aware that he should have been there with her. Should have met the people she did and shaken hands with the guy, Andrew Walters, who was making her dream a reality. Instead, she’d had Kyle by her side. Kyle, who hadn’t let her down. Hot, painful emotion simmered within him, but he tamped it down and tried to be grateful that she’d had someone with her while he’d been pickling his liver.
