Whenever I had a fleeting thought of Emmett or sex with someone else, guilt set in and all I could see was Lance’s face, cold and lifeless. Never to flash that incredible smile my way again.
“What’s too soon?” Kat shrugged her shoulders. “I think the only way to find out is to try to move on.” She looked down at the next dish, a salmon rolled with dill cream cheese and made a face. “Is this wedding on the set of an eighties soap?”
Maisie also frowned and shrugged ambivalently. “I don’t know.”
“It tastes good,” I offered quietly. It wasn’t the prettiest dish but it was tasty. “So far the stuffed mushroom cap was my favorite.”
“Me too,” Maisie admitted. “I was thinking upscale barbecue.”
Kat nodded. “Barbecue is always delicious. Then again, any meal where I can lick my fingers is fine by me.” She turned to me, her expression serious again. “I’m not sure Ma has ever truly moved on from Dad. He was horrible, but she loved him and over the years she’s had lovers, but nothing with staying power. I don’t think it’s been good for her.”
I blinked unable to believe what I was hearing. “But Sadie is so strong and tough, beautiful and stylish. How can she not have a line of men waiting for her to take her pick?”
Kat and Maisie looked at each other for a long, pregnant moment before two sets of wildly different blue eyes swung my way. “Yeah, now you’re starting to get it,” Maisie said with a smile.
“Get what…oh. It’s not the same. She’s been a widow for years, decades. Not months.” Months that felt like years. Some days felt like a whole eternity had passed without Lance.
“Thomas looks at Sadie the way Emmett looks at you, with a wistful longing of unrequited feelings.” Maisie said.
“Someone’s been reading too many romance novels,” Kat said out the side of her mouth, making us all laugh.
“I do love a good romance,” Maisie admitted. “Maybe that’s why I can see these things so clearly.”
The girls had given me a lot to think about, but the guilt bubbled up in my belly, and I decided those were thoughts for later, when I was at home.
Alone.
By myself where no one could see me break down at the thought of moving on from my guaranteed happily ever after. Whenever I tried to think of another man or sex, the guilt crept in, making it impossible to experience those tingles.
Hell made it impossible to feel anything other than the guilt.
Yeah, definitely thoughts for another time.
Any other time.
Chapter Thirteen
Emmett
“You’re reacting about half a second too late for Jimenez, Rachel. She’ll have you on your back, take down or KO, in the next move.”
Usually, training my fighters was the best part of my day. The best distraction from the other parts of life I chose not to deal with when I could help it. But for the past hour as I worked through training tapes with Rachel Cruz, the number one contender, all I could think about was Vanessa.
Not just her big blue eyes and stunning curves, but also just how she was doing. Her car was fixed, so I hadn’t seen her in a few days but she responded to my text messages and shared a few of those weird internet memes with me. It was nice that she thought about me, but what did it mean?
Rachel’s throaty laugh pulled me from my thoughts and brought my attention back to the mat. “You’re way more off than half a second today, Em. Who’s the girl?”
I frowned. “What girl? What are you talking about?” I didn’t get personal with my trainers. It was my job to listen to whatever shit clogged up their minds and took their focus away from training and fighting, but my own business was just that, my own.
Rachel took a long gulp of water and shook her head with a knowing smile on her face, her teeth so white against her darker skin. “Uh-huh. Dudes don’t get all googly-eyed like that unless it’s over a chick.” She shrugged and took another sip before wiping the sweat from her brow. “I say it’s a good thing. It’s about time you got laid. You’ve been crazy stressed out lately.”
She wasn’t wrong, but it was my job to make sure fighters like Rachel didn’t have to worry about anything outside the octagon. Between the shit that went down with Ravager, Fiona’s murder, and keeping Vanessa safe, I was abso-fucking-lutely stressed.
“If you have time to think about my sex life, then I’m not training you hard enough.”
Rachel flashed another toothy grin and said, “Now I know you’ve got a woman on the brain because you’re talkin’ shit,” then shoved her mouthguard in again and bounced on her toes. As soon as Rachel’s sparring partner stepped onto the mat, her smile faded, and the look I called the warrior death stare crossed her face. She was ready for battle.