Page 16 of Christmas Eve Do-Over
The kid gave us a quick head nod and rushed off. "Excuse me, please."
"Well, holy shit. Mr. Foxy is not only fit, fabulous, and forty, he's filthy rich and..." Bailey paused. "Damn, where's Hessa when you need her? What's a good 'f' word for generous?"
"Oh, I know! Philanthropist!" Esa jumped up and down.
"Jesus..." Sage muttered.
"What?" Esa just looked adorably confused. "Oh wait. That starts with a 'ph' doesn't it?" Her cheeks blushed, and she shrugged. "Wedding brain, what can I say?"
"Ladies! Can we focus for a second?" I looked around at them, hoping they'd see the gravity of the situation. I counted off on my fingers. "A highly decorated lifeguard. Started a program for at-risk young girls. Sent me a mixed tape of old love songs. What the hell kind of man am I dealing with here?"
"Back up. Mixed tape? Who has a cassette player these days?" Bailey grimaced like I'd shown up wearing plaid with paisley.
"It was a thumb drive with music downloaded on it, but it sounds way cooler to say mixed tape, okay?" Sometimes these girls just frustrated the hell out of me.
"I think you're finally dealing with a real man, Shasta," Brinley whispered.
I chewed my lip, trying to wrap my head around a man that turned me on like Duke did with just one look, but also a man who I respected. It was on par with finding a unicorn. A big, muscly, silver-haired, gorgeous unicorn.
And that's when the nauseous feeling hit my stomach, along with the heart palpitations, and the crippling anxiety. Triple threat. I placed a hand on the wall, right above Duke's smiling picture, and tried to breathe my way through it.
Esa rubbed my arm and Sage ran to grab a chair. I felt plastic hit the back of my knees and down I went, happy to have four sturdy legs under me instead of the limp noodles I was sporting.
Brinley crouched down and grabbed my hands, rubbing feeling back into them.
"Nod your head if you hear me."
I nodded back at Brinley slowly, afraid to move too quickly, lest my head roll right off my shoulders. I'd been scared before, but never like this. Which was saying a lot when you consider I ran away from an abusive husband who threatened to kill me on a daily basis.
I wasn't scared for my physical welfare; I could take care of myself.
I was scared for my heart.
The double reinforced wall I'd built around my fragile little heart was falling. At a rapid pace, mind you. If I didn't change course, and fast, I'd be an open, exposed organ, just asking for Duke to hurt me.
No more wine, no more thumb drives, no more love songs, and no more running into that man. I was on the diet I could never seem to start, only this time, the off-limits temptation was Duke.
And with all that resolved in my head, the panic receded and I could breathe again. My decision felt right, felt comfortable, felt familiar. Another layer of brick and mortar slotted into place and my heart beat normally, knowing it was protected.
Funny how it still ached though.
