Once Written, Twice Shy (The Broken Men Chronicles)
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Authors: Carey Decevito
Once Written,
Twice Shy
The Broken Men Chronicles
Book One
CAREY DECEVITO
Kindle Edition
This book is a work of fiction. The
names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s
imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as
real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or
organizations is entirely coincidental.
Once Written, Twice Shy
Copyright © 2013 by Carey Decevito
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of
this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written
permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical
articles and reviews.
This book is available in print at
most online retailers.
Dedication
For Nick and Isabella.
And for all of those, in search of their very own happily
ever after. May you all be so lucky to find your special someone.
I stared at the overly large bags that
lay by the front entrance with what must have been the world’s largest
what
the fuck
look on my face.
“I can’t do this anymore,” she
said. Her words tore me to shreds.
“What do you mean you
can’t do
this anymore
? Julie, you haven’t been doing anything to fix
this
.”
“I’m done, Paxton.”
I ran my hands through my hair,
pulling at the handful of tresses gripped between my rigid fingers. The
prickle in my scalp did enough to keep my temper in check and diffuse some of
my anger. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
I couldn’t believe it but then
again, I could. She was giving up on everything. My love, our life, our
family; it had all disappeared in the blink of an eye.
I still loved her but in all
honesty, I can also state that I haven’t been in love with her for quite some
time.
We’ve been together for nearly five
years. In that time, we had built a home; one that was graced with our
beautiful three-year-old son, Jasper. My hand ran down my face.
Christ,
how am I going to explain this to Jasper?
I was willing to try and work
things out. Hell, I’d even mentioned marriage counseling on multiple occasions
but like everything else, work came first and the sessions had never
materialized.
I looked up at the woman who
stood in the entrance to what I had considered our home, frustration, anger,
bitterness and that subtle feeling of failure were all too overwhelming. “Fine,”
I said, “but what about Jasper?”
“Can you keep him for this week?
It’s just until I get situated. We can discuss custody later.”
“Where are you going?”
“Todd’s asked me to move in with
him,” she said as if I had been in the know about her infidelity the entire time—no,
not until a couple of months ago.
I huffed. “So he’s still in the
picture.” I hadn’t asked as so much as accused her. She nodded. “How long
have you two been…” I couldn’t finish the sentence. Bile rose from my stomach.
“Does it matter?”
“Never mind,” I said in a
defeated tone and looked down at my feet when all I wanted to do is ask her
what happened to
can we try and work things out?
I groaned at the
memory and shook it out of my head in dismay. “Get out.”
“Pax,” she said and made to step
toward me with an outstretched hand. I wasn’t about to seek comfort from the
one who’d wounded me.
My blood pressure rose. “I said
get
out
!” I pointed toward the door, my stomach contents churning further.
The woman took off like a bat out
of hell.
I was tired of having a one-sided
relationship and thus relieved at the woman’s departure. The news of her
continued adultery had shocked me, especially when she had sworn to make an
effort to sort things out between us. It explained why we had remained in our
separate rooms all of this time, living our lives separately as though we were
roommates. It more than proved that we were better off apart. This was really
the end of my marriage.
When I married, I had intended it
to be for life. Well, I guess life had a plan of its own, huh?
With each passing day, I picked
up the broken pieces of me. I hadn’t realized that I had stifled so much of
myself over the years to try and please a woman that seemed to never be sated
with anything I said or did.
Fueled by my feelings of loss and
neglect, I made a decision which led me to rediscover an old love. The
proverbial flame was rekindled and I began to write again.
For what felt like an eternity, I
wrote. When I was done, I read my piece over so many times that my words no
longer made sense, forcing me to put it down and go back to it later.
I stared at my finished
manuscript displayed on my screen.
What am I going to do with this?
I had discovered a site, a few
months before I found out about Julie’s adulterous tendencies. It had been
recommended by a colleague. The venue allowed people from around the world to
peruse and read various works written by amateurs. Some of the work on there I
found horrid while others, despite their various grammatical and punctual
flaws, you wished you could set your hands on an edited and printed copy, they
were so great.
What the hell.
I decided to chance it. With a bit of copy and paste, a little restructuring,
I hit the
publish
button and there it was. My first written piece was
out for the world to see.
It wasn’t until a few months after
I had posted my work that I stumbled upon a comment that I couldn’t dismiss. I
ached for constructive feedback but the lack of it was getting to me due to the
site being overrun by teenagers. I debated getting rid of my profile
altogether up until that fateful day.
That short message was where
things began to change for me. With simple words of appreciation, intellectual
and heartfelt thoughts, followed by a click of her mouse, she had made me
smile.
I sought her profile out and
found that she was a fellow amateur writer just like me.
She’s gorgeous,
had been my first impression. Despite her evident beauty,
something else could be seen in her profile photo; something that beckoned me
further, begged my curiosity to look beyond the surface somehow. It was in her
eyes—loneliness. Or was I reading into things too much since I was such a
novice at these social media-like sites?
For a few weeks, I sat on her
words alone as I read through some of her work. She was good, better than good.
I thought that I’d end up with
one of those written numbers that didn’t make much sense or that glittered in
the night featuring vampires and werewolves. Boy was I wrong!
The woman sure knew how to paint
a vivid picture. She pulled off the hot and sexy but kept it real all at once
by adding emotion, drama, even a bit of action and suspense to her mix. Her
work was altogether something reminiscent of everyday life—the good, the bad,
the ugly, the…well, you get the picture.
A few days after reading her last
novel, a dream influenced by her work prompted me to finally write out an
acknowledgment to her comment. From there, we began to chat through private
messages on a near daily basis. We never stopped…
Waiting in the airport terminal, I
remembered the last time I had felt like this. The anxiety that consumed me was
reminiscent of my first date with Julie, what felt like, what was, ages ago.
I looked up at the screen and saw
that US Airways flight 2583 to Jacksonville, North Carolina had landed and knew
that in a matter of minutes she would be standing before me in the flesh. My
thoughts flittered to that first day, nearly a year ago when we first made
contact.
The conveyer belt that carried
the luggage snapped me out of my reverie when it ceased moving and the area
around me had become deserted. Had something gone wrong, had she stood me up?
I lowered myself to the bench
behind me and let my head drop into my hands. I sighed. “Serves you right for
thinking she’d show,” I mumbled.
I was trying to convince myself
that I should leave when I felt a soft hand on my shoulder. “Paxton?” a soft-spoken
woman said at my side, her voice all too familiar.
She’s here.
My heart thumped out of my
chest. I felt foolish for thinking the worse and excited that I was proven
wrong. I got up to face Alissa who had a beaming smile splayed on her face. Boy
was that smile contagious! My lips tugged upward instantly.
She let out a giggle and after
dropping her bag, she jumped me with a hug. Without hesitation, my arms found
their way around her waist to return her enthusiastic greeting.
“You looked like a man deep in
thought.”
I set her back but held on to the
sides of her arms. “Can I be honest?”
I breathed easier when she nodded.
“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”
“I thought you weren’t coming.” I
shrugged my shoulders sheepishly and averted my gaze from her.
“Are you kidding me?” My head
snapped up. She looked as if I’d slapped her. “I would have called or emailed.
Hell, I would have messaged you if anything had come up. We’ve talked about
meeting for months, Pax. I wouldn’t-”
Call it insanity or whatever you
will, I did the only thing my brain could process at the time and took the one
step toward her. Standing toe-to-toe, I let go of her arms, grabbed her face
and crashed my lips to hers in an effort to shut her up.
Her hand flew to her mouth when I
pulled back, realizing what I had done. Her eyes were wide as I found myself
surprised just as much as she was. Where had this sudden forwardness come
from? I was just so relieved that she was standing before me in the flesh,
evidence that I hadn’t been the only one looking forward to us meeting.
And
that nervous and flustered rambling of hers…
Yes, things had gotten personal
with our countless chats. But despite the numerous times we had flirted, exchanged
photos, talked dirty, and even discussed how she had come up with some of the
steamy scenes from her stories, I worried that I had crossed a line.
“Alissa, I’m-”
She shook her head and lifted her
hand. “I knew that was coming at one point or another, I just didn’t expect…” she
said but ended up brushing off what she was going to say next with a small upward
quirk of her lips. “Never mind, it was nice.”
I breathed easier and grabbed her
carry-on luggage. “Let’s get out of here,” I said, “assuming you’re still up
for it after my mauling you and all.” She giggled nervously but took my hand
in hers and I walked us toward the parking structure with an added sense of
relief for not screwing things up so quick out of the gate but still wary
nonetheless.
***
With her luggage stowed in the
back of my SUV, I headed to open the passenger side door. My mind was stuck on
our brief kiss.
Before I knew what hit me, she
had me pinned against the side of my vehicle, her body and lips smashed against
mine.
My hands reached for her hips,
pulling her into me as I licked her bottom lip, begging for entrance. My small
taste of her in luggage claim had proven one thing—I wanted more and as long as
she was handing out samples, I wasn’t going to say no.
With a light moan, she granted me
access while her hands found their way around my neck and into my hair. We
breathed each other in.
She pulled away first, her chest
heaving for air. I was none the better. The woman knew how to kiss; so much
so that a certain part of my anatomy had begun to stir.
Don’t judge, it’s been a while.
She hid her face in my chest.
I kissed the top of her head and
said, “I guess we’re even, huh?” I chuckled when she groaned. I grabbed her
chin, tilting it to reveal a beautiful crimson. A chaste kiss seemed to
alleviate her sudden embarrassment. “Let’s get going,” I said, “I can’t have
you all over me for everyone to see. Then again, I was no better.” I winked
at her. That blush of hers had barely begun to fade when it flared up once more.
“I love that look on you by the way.”
I managed to get behind the wheel
as she asked, “What look?”
“Your blush,” I said and buckled myself
in. “I know you told me about it but it’s nothing like I had pictured. It’s cute,
you’re gorgeous.”
“You need to stop that,” she said
and clasped her cheeks with her hands in an effort to conceal another wave of
red and failing miserably.
In a mocked tone of innocence I
said, “What?” I leaned over the middle console to peck her on the nose. “It’s
true.”
A soft laugh escaped her and she
nodded toward the steering wheel. “Get to driving will you?”
***
I dropped her luggage as soon as
we crossed the threshold. Kicking the door shut, I pulled Alissa so her back
was against my chest and hugged her from behind.
“I can’t believe you’re actually
here. You hungry?” It was nearly dinnertime and although I’d had a late
lunch, my stomach grumbled.
She giggled at the noise. “Mmm…a
little,” she said and wrapped her arms over mine. She was a perfect fit in my
arms. “What do you have in mind?”
***
I’m no culinary savant or
anything but I’m not the type of person to cook until I set fire to my kitchen
either—until tonight that is. Part of it was Alissa’s fault despite the fact
that she begged to differ.
White powder filled the room
after she recommended corn starch or flour to thicken the gravy—flour it was.
A fit of laughter consumed us as
we attempted to clean up, making more of a mess out of ourselves than anything
else. I knew that I’d be holding onto that bag of flour with both hands and a
sturdier grip the next time around.
She proceeded to wipe at me with a
damp tea towel. When she got a little too close to a certain area, I grabbed
her wrist to stop her. I pulled the cloth from her grip and wiped at her face
while I felt her cool fingers wiping at mine. Our eyes connected and locked,
our laughter subsided-
The braised pork chops and
boiling potatoes forgotten, we found ourselves wrapped in each other. There was
no telling who had started it. The chemistry was instantaneous, we were like
two magnets.
When we came up for air, Alissa
said, “Is it me or is it getting hot in here?”
From the corner of my eye,
something captured my attention and I turned to see what it was.
Our indulgence had resulted in
yet another mess. The potatoes were an over-boiled pile of mush; the braised
chops were charred as its pan had caught fire; and the gravy did thicken—to the
consistency of a dried up hockey puck stuck to the bottom of its pot. Suffice
it to say, dinner was effectively ruined.
She was giggling into my back
after I had managed to put a stop to the tiny blaze with the help of a box of
baking soda and an expired kitchen fire extinguisher.
“How do you feel about take-out?”
I asked over my shoulder.
“I think it’s a safer bet.”
