The miles passed by, the heavy metal pounding from the speakers of my Range Rover. Yes. My car now. I took it in the divorce. Not because I had any particular fondness for it. But Greg did. And that was reason enough.
Four months had passed since that August afternoon when my husband shattered my heart into a million pieces. I moved home to Marlo, retreating into a deep depression in my childhood bedroom. I had nothing to show for my twenty-two years on earth. No husband, no babies, no college education, no friends to lean on. My best friend, Whitney Nelson, was in Washington, busy with her aspiring career in politics. My other best friend, Lacey Jones, was in Boston trying to care for a newborn while doing online courses to finish her degree at MIT. My friends didn't have time to come home and pull me from the depths of hell.
After weeks of wallowing in self-pity, I pulled myself out. Without any help from my family or friends. I woke up one morning with a wine bottle in my bed and a Twinkie wrapper stuck to my forehead. As silly as that sounds, it was the wake up call I needed. The old Carla would have never let herself go like that. She was a ball busting chick who didn't take any shit off anyone. A girl with boundless energy and a zest for life. Until my marriage sucked the life out of me. I decided right then and there, that Carla Cooper would never let a man bring her to her knees ever again.
The traffic picked up as I crossed the state line into Massachusetts. My first order of business was to visit Lacey. Her baby was two months old, and I had yet to see her. I didn't even attend her baby shower. I wouldn't blame her if she never wanted to see me again. But Lacey would never do that. She was a great friend, and she understood how painful it was to see someone else that had something I desperately wanted. Infertility was brutal.
When I called her the night before and asked if I could come to visit, she was ecstatic. I got the impression that she was very lonely. Her fiancé is a trainer with The Boston Bruins, a job that requires him to travel a lot during the hockey season. Marty was away for a few days in California, so it was a good time to crash at her place and catch up. It would be just like old times. We could stay up all night watching movies and eating junk food. Maybe do a little shopping and have lunch. She said she had completed her courses for the semester and it was a perfect time for a visit.
I followed the GPS instructions to a quiet, tree-lined street about a block from MIT. After parking my car in the visitor section, I headed for the front entrance of the red brick high rise. The building only had nine floors. I'm not sure that even qualifies as a high rise, but whatever. I had arrived, and I was ready to party with my bestie. Apparently, I was really stupid and knew nothing about having a newborn.
I realized my foolishness when Lacey picked up the phone to buzz me in. The baby was screaming in the background and she sounded very flustered. When she pulled open her apartment door, my jaw dropped to the floor. Lacey's normally gorgeous black hair was a greasy mess pulled up in a half-assed ponytail. Her pink shirt was dotted with fresh spit up splatters, accompanied by wrinkled pajama pants.
"Hi! I'm so glad you made it." She pulled me into a hug, squeezing me tightly.
"Um," I said, glancing around her apartment as she closed the door behind me. "Is everything okay, Lacey?"
"Oh yeah," she chuckled. "Things get a little crazy when Marty is away. But I'm on school break until February now. Which is really great timing with the wedding and moving and everything. So things are bound to get better."
"That's good," I said. I sat my small suitcase next to the door, thinking I might need to find a hotel to stay in.
"Well, come in," she said, gesturing toward the kitchen. "Have a seat. I just have to feed the baby and then I can make you a cup of tea or something."
"I'm fine, Lacey. Feed your baby." Yes, please feed her, Lacey. Now! Before I start screaming.
She disappeared into the bedroom, and a moment later the screaming stopped. When Lacey reappeared, she had the baby on her breast covered with a receiving blanket. I could see a little bit of jet black hair sticking out. I'd seen pictures of her. She was the spitting image of Marty, but she had Lacey's eyes.
I followed her into the living room where she settled in a rocking chair. "Just move Mitch's stuff," she said, gesturing toward a pillow and blanket folded neatly at one end of the sofa.
"Mitch is staying here?" I asked as I squeezed myself onto the cluttered couch.
"Yeah. He's doing an apprenticeship to be a mechanic, but he doesn't get paid enough to live on."
"Mitch wants to be a mechanic?"
"Yep. He's really changed since he broke up with Whit."
Mitch and Whitney had recently ended their six-year relationship. They were high school sweethearts. After living in Washington together for three years while attending college, they decided they wanted different things from life. They took a break last summer with Mitch eventually pulling the plug a couple months ago. Whitney was a career driven woman hoping to get into politics. Mitch wanted a family and a quiet life in the suburbs.
"Wow. And you guys are letting him crash on your couch?"
"Yeah. He's been a huge help with the baby. Especially when Marty is away. And Marty is paranoid about leaving us alone. He's so overprotective."
"Well, I can kind of understand that after everything that happened to you."
"Yeah, I guess," she sighed.
Lacey's last boyfriend raped her, right under his parent's roof, with them down the hall. After she dumped him, he stalked her and beat her up, before kidnapping her when she was five months pregnant with Marty's baby. He let her go, and then killed himself and his own mother.
"Doesn't it bother him to leave you alone with Mitch?"
"What? No! Nothing like that would ever happen. Mitch is like a brother to me, and I love Marty. He knows I would never cheat on him."
"Just checking," I said with a devilish giggle.
"So, how are you doing, Carla?" She glanced up at me as she switched the baby to her other breast.
"Doesn't that hurt?" I asked, ignoring her question for a moment while I watched little Macey latch onto her nipple.
I laughed when I found out they named their daughter Macey. A combination of Marty and Lacey. But it suited her. I guess. I cringed at the thought of what they might name their next kid.
"Sometimes," she replied. "Last week, I had mastitis. And it hurt so bad I couldn't feed her. I had to pump. That was painful too. But not as bad as her sucking."
"That sounds awful, Lacey."
"You never answered me before. How are you doing? I know you had a rough time, and I'm really sorry I couldn't be there for you."
"I'm actually doing okay. I'm thinking about enrolling in college after the holidays."
"Carla, that's awesome!"
I heard a key turning in the lock and glanced at Lacey. She still had her boob on full display. And she wasn't doing anything to cover it up. "Lacey!" I exclaimed, gesturing toward her chest.
"It's okay. Mitch has seen it all. No biggie."
I turned toward the door just in time to see him enter.
Holy shit!
Mitch Dawson bulked up. Big time. He used to be kind of scrawny, with no muscles to speak of. The total opposite of his older brother, Marty. Marty was a musclehead. Had been for as long as I could remember. And he always picked on Mitch.
He shrugged off his jacket and hung it in the closet. His tight black t-shirt outlined rippling biceps and firm pectorals.
"Hey, Carla," he said, grinning from ear to ear when he caught me checking him out.
"Hey," I replied before tearing my eyes away from the sexy specimen walking toward us.
"Oh, Lacey. Put that thing away." He covered his eyes.
"Relax, Uncle Mitch. She's done anyway." She pulled the baby from her breast and tugged her shirt down.
"Is the boob put away?" he asked, peeking out from behind his fingers.
"Yes, you big wuss," she chuckled. "You watched me give birth, Mitch. A little boobage shouldn't even phase on you."
Lacey's water broke during a traffic jam on the interstate. In an ironic twist of fate, she ended up giving birth at the same inn where she and Marty hooked up during a blizzard and conceived Macey. Mitch was with them and had to assist Marty when he delivered the baby.
"I've blocked the images of that day from my mind." He opened the fridge and pulled out a beer before leaning against the kitchen island. "How ya been, Carla?"
"I'm clawing my way back to life," I replied, still mesmerized by all that muscle. "How are you doing?"
"Awesome. I'm finally doing what makes me happy. Taking care of number one. Nobody tells me what to do." He glanced cautiously at Lacey. "Except Mama Bear, there. But I'm sleeping on her couch and eating her food, so I kinda gotta help out. And I don't mind. I love my little niece."
"Aww," Lacey cooed, lifting the baby up onto her shoulder to burp her. "You wanna go see Uncle Mitchy?"
"Can I hold her?" I asked.
"Oh, of course!" Lacey rose from the rocking chair and handed me the baby. "Sorry. I didn't want to put any pressure on you, Carla. I know this is hard for you."
"It is. But I can't keep avoiding babies." I gazed down at the beautiful little girl in my arms. My heart wrenched at the thought that I might never have one of my own. Stop, Carla. Positive thoughts only.
Macey Grace Dawson was absolutely gorgeous. Jet black hair, chocolate brown eyes, and a perfect little heart shaped face with a tiny dimple in her chin.
"Oh my God! She has Marty's dimple in her chin."
"I know," Lacey said, beaming. "She got all Marty's genes. I guess nobody can say she's not his kid."
"I can see you in her too." I rubbed her soft cheek as she nodded off to sleep. "Wow. I want one of these."
Lacey rubbed my shoulder. "You will. You'll find the right guy. Probably when you aren't even looking. And it will happen. Maybe there's nothing wrong with you. You never know."
"Well, if you ladies will excuse me, I'm gonna jump in the shower," Mitch said, grinning from ear to ear. "I've got a hot date tonight."
"Go get her, tiger," Lacey yelled as he disappeared into the bathroom. She shook her head and returned her attention to me. "Do you want me to take her?"
"Sure." I handed the baby back to her mother, sighing sadly.
"You want a drink or something?" she asked when she returned from putting Macy in the nursery. She sat a baby monitor on the coffee table and flicked it on.
"No thanks," I replied. "When did Mitch get the muscles?"
She flopped down on the sofa next to me. "Since he's been staying here. He's been working out with Marty."
"Hmm."
Lacey studied me thoughtfully before a knowing grin spread across her lips. "You think he's hot!"
"Do not," I whispered, glancing nervously at the bathroom door. I couldn't hear the shower running anymore.
"Do so!" She poked me in the arm.
"So what if I do? I'm not dead. And it's not like I could ever act on it."
"Why?"
"Um. How about the fact that he went out with Whitney for six years? And he's clearly on the rebound."
"So?" Lacey shrugged her shoulders. "So are you. I didn't say you had to marry him. Just have a fling."
"I could never do that to Whitney. It would ruin our friendship."
"Maybe she wouldn't care. She might be happy for you."
"No. She definitely would not." I laughed and shook my head.
Lacey nodded, chewing on her lower lip. "You're right. She wouldn't be pleased."
The bathroom door opened and Mitch came out wearing nothing but a towel wrapped snugly around his waist. He darted into the living room. "Sorry, ladies. I forgot to take clean clothes with me."
I watched as he rifled through a laundry basket of folded clothes. I tried to tear my eyes away from his chest. Miles and miles of rippling muscle with firm pecs, and a generous treasure leading down his well-defined V before disappearing into the towel.
"You see something you like?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows.
I opened my mouth but no words came out. Lacey covered her mouth with her hand, suppressing a giggle. I tore my gaze away and stared straight ahead, heat pouring from my cheeks.
He chuckled to himself as he headed back into the bathroom, closing the door softly behind him.
"What was that?" Lacey exclaimed. "Since when are you and Mitch attracted to each other?"
"What makes you think that?"
"The freakin sparks flying all over."
"You're crazy," I said. But she wasn't wrong. I definitely felt some serious lust a moment ago when he was standing a few feet away in that towel. Better switch gears before he comes out. I would be mortified if he overheard our conversation. "How are things with Marty?"
"Hot," she whispered. "I had my six-week check up a couple weeks ago. Got the clearance for sex. And boy, have we made up for lost time."
"So it's still good? Even after pushing a giant baby out of your vajayjay?"
"It's better than ever," she giggled. "We can't keep our hands off each other."
"Ain't that the truth," Mitch said, coming out of the bathroom just in time to hear Lacey's last comment. "You know the walls are thin and I can hear everything?"
Lacey shrugged. "Put on some headphones."
"I gotta run. Nice to see you, Carla." He winked at me before going out the door.
Fuck me. Literally. Anytime, anywhere. Just say the word.
I shivered. What crazy thoughts. I'd known Mitch since we were kids. And for a good chunk of that time, he was my friend's boyfriend.
I was never as tight with him as Lacey, but we still hung out a lot in high school. He'd been in Washington the last three years going to community college while Whitney attended University. I thought he was whipped when he followed her there.
When I heard he dumped her, I gained a lot of respect for him. And now that I'd witnessed his physical transformation? Well, maybe I would have to see where that went. You never know.
Except no. Nothing could ever happen between us. I wouldn't betray my best friend.
"Carla!" Lacey's voice broke through my reverie.
"Yeah?"
"I asked if you're bringing a plus one to the wedding. You mentioned before about bringing your sister."
"No. I think I'm going to come alone." That would leave me free to pursue any hot, single guys. Maybe that was exactly what I needed. A one night stand. With some hot guy who wasn't my best friend's ex.
"Really?" She reached over and rubbed my shoulder. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah. I think so." I ran my hands through my long blonde tresses. "How did Whitney feel about you choosing me to be your Maid of Honour?"
"She understood. I think she was actually relieved. Mitch is the best man. Their breakup wasn't amicable by any means. The last thing they need is to be forced together for dances and pictures and all that."
"Yeah," I said, nodding my head. "That would be kind of awkward."