On Dublin Street

In response, he brushed his thumb over my mouth and smiled at me with his eyes before letting go.

 

And then, we were two friends spending time together. We talked about all the usual stuff. Music. Movies. Books. Hobbies. Friends. We made each other laugh. We had fun. But it was all little things. Braden was careful to make sure that he never asked anything he knew I wouldn’t answer. And when I stumbled over a question because it related to the past, he cracked a joke and changed the subject. This was a smart man.

 

We were just finishing up dessert when a sultry voice with an accent as melodic as Ellie’s, drifted across our table. “Braden, honey, I thought that was you.”

 

My eyes lifted to the woman who was standing by our table, and was now dipping down to kiss Braden’s cheek, giving him an eyeful of her small but perfectly formed breasts. Her dress was red, daring and as sultry as her voice. She gave me a bright smile as she drank me in.

 

“Aileen. How are you?”

 

She grinned and stroked his cheek affectionately. “Better for seeing you.”

 

Oh hell. I tried not to shift uncomfortably as an inexplicable tightness lodged in my throat. This was an ex-girlfriend. Awkward.

 

“How’s Alan?”

 

Who the hell was Alan? Please be her husband.

 

“Oh.” She waved the question off with a grimace. “We’re separated. I’m here with a very charming date.”

 

Well, go back to him, lady, so we can get on with our date.

 

Shit! Not a date! Not a date!

 

Braden smiled and turned around to nod at me. “Aileen, this is Jocelyn.”

 

“Hi.” I smiled politely, not really sure how to converse with an obvious ex. As I looked over the tall, blonde glamazon, I was convinced more than ever that I was the opposite of Braden’s usual type.

 

Her eyes were assessing as they washed over me. After a second her smile widened as she looked back at Braden. “Finally, a girl who doesn’t look like Analise.” She touched his shoulder affectionately again. “I’m glad for you.”

 

“Aileen...” Braden pulled back, his jaw clenching.

 

Analise? My eyebrows were raised in question. Who was Analise?

 

“Still sore I see,” Aileen tutted and took a step back. “I guess we all are about spouses. Takes time.” She waited for someone to say something and then, as if suddenly realizing she was intruding on our dinner, she laughed a little embarrassed. “Anyway, I better get back to Roberto. Take care, Braden. It was good to see you. And nice to meet you, Jocelyn.”

 

“You too,” I murmured, trying to hide the fact that it felt as though someone had rammed the table into my gut. Spouses? I sucked in a breath, a shot of adrenaline kicking my heart into a riot as Aileen sashayed away, having no idea she’d caused tension between me and Braden.

 

My lips felt numb. “Wife?”

 

“Ex-wife.”

 

Why did I feel betrayed? That was stupid. Or was it? He’d said we were friends. And Ellie… Ellie was my friend, and she hadn’t told me Braden had an ex-wife. Did it matter?

 

You haven’t told him anything, Joss.

 

No, I hadn’t. But I also hadn’t been married.

 

“Jocelyn…” Braden sighed, and I lifted my eyes to see his expression was like granite. “I would have told you about Analise eventually.”

 

I waved him off. “It’s none of my business.”

 

“If that’s the case, why do you look shell-shocked?”

 

“Because I’m surprised. I got into this with you because you were a serial dater. Not a one-woman kind of guy.” I touched a hand to my chest. What the hell was that pain in there?

 

He ran a hand through his hair and then sighed heavily again. The next thing I knew, he had hooked a leg around my chair leg and was pulling me toward him, until our shoulders were almost brushing.

 

I stared up at him questioningly, lost for a moment in his beautiful eyes.

 

“I got married when I was twenty-two,” he began softly, quietly, his eyes studying me as he explained. “Her name was Analise. She was an Australian post-grad student. We’d only been together a year before I proposed, and we were only married for two. The first nine months were great. The next three months rocky. The last year hell. We fought a lot. Mostly about my inability to let her in,” he whirled his wine glass, dropping his gaze now, “And when I think about it, that was true. Thank fuck.” His eyes came back to me. “The thought of handing her – someone as vindictive as her – all my personal crap…”

 

“Like ammunition in her hands,” I murmured, understanding completely.

 

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