Susan Mallery - Daughters Of The Bride

“Are you saying you’d rather watch TV than eat dinner with your parents?” she asked, pretending to be shocked at the notion.

“Please, Mom.”

How much longer would he ask rather than simply do? How many more years until the hormones kicked in and she became nothing but an irritation in his life?

When it was just the two of them, she generally agreed. Often she joined him in the living room to watch whatever game was on TV. But if she said yes tonight, she would be dining alone with Greg. Did either of them want that?

She risked a glance at her ex. Greg shrugged. “He loves the Dodgers. It’s fine with me.”

Josh whooped, as if all was now decided, then hurried into the living room to set up a TV tray. Seconds later the sounds of the baseball game were audible. He returned to the kitchen, put two giant slices on a plate, grabbed his glass of juice and disappeared again.

“We’ll miss you,” Greg called after him.

A mumbled response came in reply.

“Kids,” he said with a grin as he took the seat across from hers. “What are you gonna do?”

He held open the smaller of the two boxes of pizza. She saw the veggie with extra cheese she liked but rarely got. Because when it was just her and Josh, it didn’t make sense to pay for an extra pizza or toppings.

“Thank you,” she murmured as she took a slice.

He set a couple of the all-meat slices on his plate.

“What did you two—”

“How was your—”

They spoke at the same time. Rachel looked away, then back at him. “What did you and Josh do this weekend?”

“We spent a lot of yesterday shopping for his glove. We went to three different stores before finding the right one.”

Which meant they’d gone way out of Los Lobos. Something that would make her crazy—mostly because of the time. But Greg wouldn’t mind. He’d always been more adventurous than her. There was a reason he’d chosen a job that put his life on the line.

As he talked about the different gloves they’d looked at, she remembered what he’d been like that first night they’d gone out. She’d been beyond scared. Barely sixteen and she’d been kissed only one other time.

After dinner, they’d gone to the park. The night had been warm—too warm. The unseasonable temperature had meant lying in the grass was comfortable. They’d found a secluded spot and settled down. He’d kissed her. She still recalled how magical his mouth had felt on hers. He hadn’t pushed her, hadn’t taken too much, and they’d kissed for what felt like hours. Then he’d touched her breasts.

No one had ever done that, and she’d been unprepared for the tingles that had swept through her. Her head had warned her to stop him, but her heart had whispered that this was Greg, and anything he wanted to do had to be right. Her body had loved the heat and excitement his touch had generated. She hadn’t known she could feel such things. One thing had led to another, and before she’d realized what was happening, she was naked and he was inside her.

The feeling of being swept away had ended the second he’d taken her virginity. Pain was a quick road to reality. She’d thought about telling him to stop, but it was really too late. So she’d waited the three or four seconds until he’d finished, then had gotten dressed.

Neither of them had spoken on the drive home. She’d jumped out of his car and raced inside—not sure what to think. She’d done something wrong, she knew that much. A slut. If her mother ever found out...

The next morning Rachel had thought about faking being sick. Only, she didn’t want anyone asking about her. Speculation was death. Better to simply pretend to be fine and get through the day.

She’d been shocked to find Greg waiting for her as she left the house. He’d told her they had to talk. Reluctantly, she’d gotten into his car, even though she had no idea what they were going to say. They’d done it. Now they had to deal with having done it. What was there to say?

Apparently, a lot.

“Are you okay?”

Not the question she’d expected. She’d nodded.

“I’m sorry,” he told her earnestly, his dark gaze locked on her face. “Not that we had sex, but because it happened so fast. It should have been after we’d been going out for like six months, and been a lot more romantic.” His concern turned sheepish. “I kept waiting for you to tell me no, and when you didn’t—” He shrugged. “I couldn’t believe you were going to let me do that.”

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re you. Everybody loves you.”

“Do you?”

Love him? Did she? “I don’t really know you. I know of you, but that’s different.”

“So you’re saying you used me for sex.”

After that time in the park, she would have sworn she would never laugh again, never smile, never feel good about herself. But right then, she couldn’t stop her lips from curving up.

“I wish I was brave enough to do that,” she admitted. “But I’m not.”

“You’re the most confusing girl I’ve ever known. And the prettiest. Can I drive you to school?”

She’d said yes and that had been the beginning of their relationship. They’d dated exclusively until she’d graduated from high school and then they’d gotten married.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, drawing her back to the present. “And don’t say nothing. It’s obvious you didn’t find my glove descriptions riveting.”

“Sorry. I was just going over what I have to get done this week.” A flat-out lie, but there was no way she was going to admit to reminiscing. While their marriage had been her whole world, Greg hadn’t felt the same way. He’d cheated on her.

“Josh’s game’s Wednesday afternoon, right?” he asked. “I want to make sure I’m there.”

“Yes. It’s at four.” She picked up her pizza slice and took another bite.

“I know you’re one of the team moms. Anything I can do to help with that?”

As a team mom, she was expected to collect money from the other parents to pay for drinks and snacks. She was also in charge of making sure the equipment was collected at the end of the game. If any was left behind, she brought it home with her until the next practice. There were usually two team moms. Heather was the other one, but she was turning out to be a flake.

“I’m good,” she told him.

“You sure? Josh mentioned that Heather hadn’t remembered to bring snacks last time. I could take care of that.”

“I’m handling it. Besides, you have to miss some of his games for work.”

“Yeah, but I could help when I’m not working. You wouldn’t have to do it all yourself.”

“I don’t mind.”

“At least that way you know it will be done right?” he asked. The tone was light, but there was something in his words.

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t trust easily.”

She put down her pizza and glanced toward the living room. When she returned her attention to Greg, she made sure her voice was low.

“If you’re asking if I trust you, I would say it depends. You’re a good father and I appreciate that. Josh needs his dad in his life. As for the rest of it, we’re divorced, Greg. What does it matter what I think of you?”

He pushed his plate away. “You’re never going to get over what happened, are you? It doesn’t matter how many times I tell you I’m sorry. That I want to make things right. You don’t care. I screwed up and you can never forgive me.”

Her stomach started to hurt. “You don’t care about my forgiveness. You just don’t like being the bad guy. It cuts into your self-image. Get over it. Like I said, you’re a good father. I never say anything bad about you to Josh. We work well with him. That’s more than most divorced couples have.”