Not Quite Perfect (Not Quite Series Book 5) (19 page)

“Hey, guys?” The voice belonged to Walt.

Mary slumped. “Come in.”

Walt opened the door, pushed back the tarp, and waved his thumb out the door. “We have dinner in about ten.”

Mary started to protest.

“Dakota said, and I quote, ‘Don’t let her say no. She doesn’t like to cook on a good day, and today sucks.’”

Mary found her smile. “Fine.”

Walt waved a hand in the air. “Ten!”

“We’ll be there,” Glen said.

Walt closed the door behind himself.

Mary scooped another tray of glass into the trash and dusted her hands on her pants. “I guess this is as good a place to stop as any.”

They walked out the door eight minutes later, locking it as they left. “Seems useless,” Mary said, looking behind her.

“Unlocked doors invite problems.” He placed his arm over her shoulders. She took the moment to lean her head into his shoulder.

“I didn’t invite this . . . and the doors were locked.”

Glen kissed her forehead. “I know, hon.”

Mary soaked up his support while she had it.

Dakota and Walt’s home felt like heaven compared to her own. Everything was in its place; nothing was broken or sticky. The police hadn’t left smudges of black dust just about everywhere.

And there was baby Leo.

If the scattering of baby paraphernalia didn’t remind her he was there, his tiny cries would.

“Perfect timing.” Walt handed her the baby the second she stepped into the room. “I’m pouring whiskey. Glen, what are you drinking?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Mary, white or red?”

Mary wiggled her face in front of Leo’s, letting her hair feather up beside his cheeks. His cries turned into tiny giggles.

“Mary?” Walt asked again.

“Oh, white.”

The sound of Dakota’s gimpy gait walking down the stairs approached. “Now look who is holding the baby.”

“He’s a bright spot in a bad day.”

Dakota came to sit beside her on the couch. “How are you holding up?”

She glanced away from Leo and tried to shake off the unease the entire situation mandated. “It’s just stuff.”

“Have you found anything missing?” Walt asked from the kitchen.

“Just the cash.” Mary once again tickled Leo with her hair. “Good thing I don’t have a lot of that sitting around, huh, Leo?” Her voice kicked up an octave.

Their informal dinner was eaten around the coffee table with Dakota and Walt tag-teaming Leo. The conversation about the mess across the street eased into a discussion about what needed to happen next.

“A security system is never a bad idea. Seems they only go in after someone is robbed.”

“This has always been a safe community. The most trouble we’ve had is when those boys up the street threw weekend parties,” Dakota told them.

“Thank God for college,” Mary said.

“Glen, when are you going home?” Walt asked.

Mary drank her wine and waited for the answer.

“I told Jason and Trent not to expect me anytime soon.”

Anytime soon?
What did that mean? “You have a job, too, Glen. I can’t expect you to stay here and hold my hand.”

“You not expecting it makes me want to do it more.”

She set her wine down. “I’m going to have to go to my office on Tuesday.”

“We should have the majority of the place cleaned out by then.”

“Dating me doesn’t mean you have to share my problems,” she told him. “You have a life.”

Glen stared her down. “You go to work on Tuesday, and I’ll supervise the security company when they wire your place.”

“I don’t even know what that costs . . . or if I can afford it.”

He titled his head just like he had when he’d bought her the coat.

“Oh, no . . . the coat, okay. I did that. But no way am I letting you foot any bills related to this garbage.”

Glen shrugged and forked the last bite of his dinner in his mouth. “Then I guess you’re stuck with me until we find out who did this.”

“What?”

Mary was vaguely aware that Walt and Dakota were silently watching this entire exchange.

Glen lifted both palms in the air. He dipped his right hand and said, “Security system . . .” Then he dipped his left hand. “Me as your roommate.” His grin told her he wasn’t kidding. “Your choice, hon.”

“That’s ridiculous.” She glanced over at Walt, who seemed just fine with his ultimatum. And Dakota, the traitor. “You’re all ridiculous.”

“Pretending everything can go on as normal is preposterous, Mary, and you know it,” Dakota said.

Mary’s psychology hat snapped into place and her words flew out of her mouth. “You’re feeling guilty.”

“Excuse me?” Dakota asked.

“Guilty you didn’t notice anything until after it was all over. Probably even more so because you’re considering moving altogether and wouldn’t be able to walk across the street to check on me.”

Dakota didn’t argue.

Mary turned toward Walt. “Ditto for you.”

She found her eyes on Glen. “You want to play hero. Kinda stuck in the role since the call came through while we were together. The male ego kicks in with
nothing bad can happen if I’m there
, takes over, and all your normal responsibilities blow away. I have news for you . . . something bad can happen right now and you might not be able to do anything to stop it. Or worse, get hurt trying.” She twisted back to Dakota. “And what if Walt had ran over when that guy was still there? What if he chased Walt back here with you and Leo?”

The room was silent until Glen challenged her. “All your what-ifs do not change the fact that you have friends who want to help,
Counselor
.”

She understood that, but she also knew, on a level that only she could, the risk she took in counting on someone else for her well-being. She’d been going at life nearly alone since she was brought into this world, depending on others now was not an option.

“Help. But don’t dictate what will and won’t be in my life based on your needs.”

“I’m basing it on your needs.”

She shook her head. “Every good dictator makes the people believe they are making all the decisions for the people’s own good.”

From the look on Glen’s face, she’d managed to tick him off. He set his drink down and stood. “Believe what you want, Mary. I’m not going anywhere. Walt, Dakota . . . thank you for dinner. I have a few calls to make.” Then he was out the door.

Walt handed Leo to Dakota and followed Glen.

It took a few minutes for Mary’s heart to stop pounding in her chest.

“You’re wrong on this one,” Dakota said quietly.

Mary started to protest.

“No, don’t. Yes, I feel bad that we didn’t see the asshole who did this. Maybe even a little guilty, but that isn’t driving my desire to see you safe. And I have no doubt that Glen’s ego is puffing his chest out saying he won’t let this happen if he’s here to stop it. It’s not testosterone driving Glen to his actions either. Anyone else would be booking his flight home after what you just said.”

Maybe he should go.

“You know what I see?” Dakota asked.

Mary didn’t trust herself to speak . . .

“I see someone hurt who is too afraid to open herself up and let others in to heal her.”

“I don’t need someone else to heal me.”

“You don’t
want
to need someone to heal you. You only
want
to depend on the only person in your life who has always been there . . . yourself.”

“You and I both know Glen is temporary. Depending on him for more than what we have right now would be a mistake on my part.”

“Maybe. I don’t have a window into that man’s brain and he hasn’t asked me for your ring size, so maybe he is transient. But he is a good guy who wants to help a friend out.”

“Help . . . don’t demand.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, you don’t accept any help without the other person demanding it.”

Chapter Twenty

The rag Glen was using to remove the word
bitch
off of Mary’s bathroom mirror did a great job of smearing the lipstick instead of taking it off.

Mary walked in during his efforts and leaned against the doorframe. “I’m sorry.”

“Forget about it.” He kept scrubbing, making the mess bigger.

“No, Glen . . .” She approached from behind, placed her hands on his shoulders. “I was way out of line.”

He caught her reflection in the mirror and dropped the towel on the counter. “You’re under a lot of stress.”

“Doesn’t excuse bad behavior. I know you just want to help.”

He turned around, placed his hands on her hips.

“Let me help you.”

Mary closed her eyes.

“Please. I have the means, Mary.”

“Glen—”

“I can’t stay here indefinitely, I do have a life at home. But leaving you here less than protected would be impossible. Especially if there is something I can do.”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m asking.” He reached for her chin and forced her to look at him. “I’d want to do this even if I lived across the street. The fact I’m so far away makes it even more important. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep in my own bed if—”

She cut him off with a long-suffering breath. “Okay. Put in the locks, the security system.”

He’d won.

He tried not to smile.

“It’s the right thing to do,” she said.

Glen pulled her in for a kiss. He didn’t mean for it to be anything but a thank-you, but she reached around and latched on.

A simple meeting of lips quickly turned into lava.

His heart kicked in his chest and his body responded.

When he pushed away from the counter, Mary jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist. Glen caught the globes of her ass in his hands and walked the both of them over to her bed.

They fell together, Mary pulling at his clothes. Her struggles were desperate and needy, and this was where Glen knew he could help and she wouldn’t protest.

The floor of the room was still a mess, but the bed had been remade before they’d gone to dinner.

Mary clawed her way past his clothing, making quick work of her own.

Only when Glen pushed into her did she still. While her desperation to get to this point had been frantic, now that turned to a slow, steady gait to heaven. “I have you,” he whispered in her ear.

“Yes,” she whispered back.

Glen stopped asking permission the following day.

He called a local service to remove the trashed furniture. The only thing left in the living room was a lone surviving lamp and the TV. Even the cable box had been destroyed, but the man hadn’t touched the television. The cords to the speakers of her stereo system were cut in half, the console itself thrown on the floor.

They kept a running list of everything that ended up in the Dumpster for the insurance company.

They passed through the empty room to her kitchen. One of the two bar stools had been slashed like her sofa, the other was intact. The wooden kitchen table and chairs had survived. Thankfully he hadn’t bothered with her washer and dryer, which had been running nonstop since they’d started cleaning the place up.

Mary’s bedroom was starting to smell like a brothel. All her perfumes and cosmetics had been dumped on the floor, many of the bottles broken and leaking onto the carpet. While they had made the bed the day before and slept in it, there was a massive slash in the mattress, which would need to be replaced sooner than later.

Her dresser survived and most of her clothing.

Glen called a tow service to take Mary’s car in for repairs. The insurance companies were haggling over who was ultimately responsible for the bill, and at one point the mechanic vacillated on starting the work. Glen pulled him aside, handed him a credit card, and told him he was covered. Mary hadn’t seen the transaction when he’d done it, and he resolved himself to the fact he’d have to ask her for forgiveness later.

They went from the mechanic to rent her a car. All the questions remained the same . . . will the auto insurance pay for the rental? They didn’t know, and Mary ended up using her credit card to drive away.

Her home office was intact, just in such disarray it would take her weeks to put everything to rights.

By the time they were ready for dinner, Glen had scheduled a professional service to clean the carpets upstairs the next day and a contractor to come and give an estimate for repairs on three of the walls, which took the brunt of the force the bastard who’d done this had inflicted when he threw her belongings around the room.

Mary was taking a shower before they left for dinner, and Glen was on her back porch talking with Jason on the phone. “Damn, Jase . . . you should have seen it. The only thing intact was her TV and computer.”

“Any idea on who could have done this?”

“I think the police need to check out her clients.”

“I can’t imagine Mary would appreciate that.”

Glen pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, she didn’t agree to releasing any names.”

“How is she holding up?”

“Like a rock. The woman gives stubborn a whole new meaning. Her entire home is all but destroyed and she just keeps moving forward. Not one tear. I don’t know any other woman who would hold up like she is during all of this.”

“When do you think you’ll be back?”

Glen rubbed the tension out of the back of his neck. “A few days. I can work remotely while Mary’s seeing clients.” He knew his brother wasn’t asking about work, but he felt the need to tell him he was thinking about it.

“We’re good here. Just make sure your girl is safe.”

Glen ran a hand through his hair. That was the problem. All the precautions in the world wouldn’t assure her safety.

It took Mary four hours and three sets of clients before she felt her head was in the game.

Two of the three clients were married, working on their relationships, and the other set was a mother/daughter situation where they were just as codependent on the other as a married couple. And the daughter was in her forties. Mary had to keep from letting her mind wander during their sessions . . . asking if it was at all possible she was sitting across from the person who had trashed her home.

A text from Glen came in as she was finishing her notes.
Can I bring you lunch?

Meet me at the Hansen’s deli?

Twenty minutes later she sat at the counter, placed her purse in the seat beside her for Glen.

Carla swung by, dropped off the iced tea, and glanced at the vacant seat. “Meeting someone today?”

“I am.”

“The cutie from the law firm?” Carla wiggled her eyebrows.

Mary was quick to shake her head. “No. He’s not . . . no.”

Carla didn’t ask for details, just winked and moved on down the counter.

Mary checked her phone to see if Glen had texted with a need for directions.

“Hey, Mary.”

She twisted in surprise. “Hi, Kent.”

“I’m pleasantly surprised to see you here.”

Mary blinked a few times without responding. The comment felt out of place.

“I didn’t see your car in the parking lot. I thought maybe you’d taken some time off,” he clarified.

She released a breath and smiled. “Oh, no . . . I had another problem. It’s back at the shop.”

His smile fell. “Nothing serious, I hope.”

“Well, yes . . . but no. It’s okay. Nothing I can’t handle.”

“That sounded suspicious.”

Mary glanced toward the door. “It’s been a crazy week.”

“And it’s only Tuesday,” he said. He looked down at the empty seat. “Saving this for me?”

“Uhm, no. I’m actually meeting someone today.” And sitting there talking to a man who had asked her out while waiting for the man she was dating started to feel as awkward as it looked.

When Glen walked into the deli she waved with a smile.

“I see.”

Glen moved to stand behind the saved seat, cut off from taking it by Kent’s presence.

“You found the place,” Mary said.

“Google.” Glen’s one-word answer had universal meaning.

It was obvious that Kent wasn’t moving, so Mary made an introduction. “Glen, this is Kent . . .” She’d forgotten his last name. “I’m sorry, what was your last name again?”

“Duvall.” Kent watched Glen as if sizing up the competition.

“Right, Kent Duvall, this is Glen Fairchild. Kent is the man who helped me when my car wouldn’t start last week.”

Glen extended a hand. “I appreciate you helping Mary out.”

There was a bit of a power struggle with the handshake. “Anytime. I hate to think chivalry is dead.”

“The act, no . . . the men willing to participate . . .”

Kent finally stepped back. “I’ll let you two get to your lunch. See you around, Mary.”

Glen moved into her space the moment he could and greeted her with a kiss. She caught him glancing over his shoulder at Kent’s receding back.

She bit her lip to keep from laughing.

“What?” he asked when he noticed her struggle.

“Male chest-bumping if I’ve ever seen it.”

He didn’t bother denying her claim. “Who is that guy?”

“Like I told you . . . he jumped my car the other night.”

Glen lifted a menu. “Uh-huh! His eyes were all over you.”

Mary gave up and started to laugh. “I told him no.”

“Told who no?”

“Kent . . . he asked me out. I told him no.”

Glen put down his menu, did a double take to find the man they were talking about. “Good.”

She sipped her iced tea, smiling.

“Why did you tell him no?”

Glen was not letting this go. “Because I’m dating you. I know we haven’t talked about being exclusive, but I can’t bring myself to date two men at the same time.” She quickly realized how that sounded and added, “My issue, not yours. It’s just how I am.”

He twisted back to the counter, looked at the menu. “So you said no, not because you weren’t interested, but because we’re dating?”

Mary rested both hands on the counter. “Could you be more jealous?”

He shrugged. “Probably.”

She was laughing when Carla walked back around.

“And who do we have here?” Carla asked, winking at Mary.

Mary stopped giggling long enough for introductions. “Carla, best waitress in this place and overall wonderful woman, this is Glen.”

Glen set the menu down with a smirk. “Mary’s boyfriend,” he added.

She stopped laughing.

“Is that right?” Carla asked.

“Mary’s
exclusive
boyfriend,” Glen said as if his first proclamation wasn’t enough.

It was Carla’s turn to laugh. “Well, Mary’s
exclusive
boyfriend, what are you having?”

“What’s good here?”

“The Reuben,” Mary and Carla said in unison.