Page 9 of Love Everlasting

Stay with him.

Spend the night with him.

So he can take another piece of my soul.

Her mind seized, and then her heart. “No!” she screamed, shoving him away with such force, he bumped his head on the dash. “Out, get out, you … you … slimy letch!” She flogged him with her fists, not feeling a bit bad over the nasty knot he would have.

“Shannon, wait—” He raised his arms to protect himself, but she only whacked him all the harder, furious she’d been dumb enough to be played by a player. Especially after Jack’s warning.

“He can charm the spots off a kid with measles, which makes him all the more dangerous. So I need someone mature and levelheaded, with an immunity to players …”

Yeah, right. Apparently an “immunity to players” doesn’t inoculate one against “stupid.”

“Shannon, let me explain, please—”

Chest heaving, she jerked one of her high heels off and bullied him with her size five-and-a-half stilettos. “The-only-ex-pla-nation-I-want-from-you-bucko,” she hissed as she bludgeoned him but good, “is-how-to-get-you-out-of-my-car!”

“Hey, that hurts,” he moaned. He clutched his stomach as he scrambled out, finally toppling into the street.

“Good!” She lunged to slam the door, too angry to gloat when he furiously scuttled back before she could take off his big toe. Shifting into gear, she spared him one last glance to make sure he was clear, satisfied to see the fear of God in his eyes. “I hope your stupid tie stinks forever,” she shouted, moisture stinging as she gunned away from the curb.

Just like my judgment in men.

Chapter Five

“You’ve been a godsend, Cam.” Carrying two tall, frosty glasses of her famous peach iced tea out to her patio, Tess O’Bryen placed one in front of Cameron Phillips—the uncle of her daughter-in-law, Lacey—who had just taken her out to lunch. “I can’t thank you enough for all the help you’ve been.”

“My pleasure, Tess.” Cam hoisted his glass in a toast, his smile solid, steady, and warm, like the friend he’d been to her the last five months since her ex-husband Adam passed away. “I remember all too well the grief of losing Susan to cancer, which is one of the reasons I’ve spent so much time at sea on various naval commissions. Despite the fact it’s my job, it was one of the few ways I found I could cope. So trust me—I count it a privilege to be here to help you shoulder your grief.”

Offering a grateful smile, she sank into her white wrought-iron chair, welcoming the comfort of the heron-blue striped pillows that were beginning to show wear and tear. Like me, she thought, shamefully exhausted from their trek through the cemetery, where she and Cam had attended a Memorial Day service before lunch. They’d both put flowers on Adam’s and Susan’s gravesites. She laid her head back on the chair and closed her eyes, grateful that Cam understood her moments of silence and didn’t press her to talk.

She’d only officially met Cam briefly last August at his daughter Nicki’s wedding. And then again at her son Jack’s and Lacey’s wedding the next month after he’d finished his naval commission on the USS George H. W. Bush. So when he showed up at Adam’s funeral, she’d been surprised. And so utterly grateful! Somehow, she hadn’t expected her ex-husband’s death to affect her so, especially since she hadn’t seen him for two years prior to last summer, when he’d come back to make amends to his family.

Amends. Tears pricked her eyes. And then some. The pastor husband who had left her almost eight years ago after an adulterous affair with her friend and neighbor, Karen—Cam’s sister—had somehow managed to burrow into his family’s heart all over again. He’d been a changed man on a mission—to heal the wounds he’d inflicted before God called him home. And, oh, how he had! Becoming a best friend to her all over again and an unlikely hero to his children, making the last five months since his death oh, so hard.

And yet, oh, so wonderful! Knowing he was now in the presence of His Savior while his family no longer bore the burden of bitterness.

Only grief.

She took a sip of her iced tea, gaze trailing into her once-lush garden and yard, which now suffered neglect as much as she. But she hadn’t expected Adam’s death to bruise her so badly, imposing an awful malaise that was so unnatural for a woman Ben Carmichael once called “annoyingly perky.”

Ben.

Loneliness struck with such force, a flash flood stung at the back of her eyes. With two daughters, two sons, a brand-new daughter-in-law she adored, and a crotchety blue heron who resided in her oak as an unofficial pet, she shouldn’t be lonely. And yet, from the moment Ben—her crotchety neighbor, Lacey’s father, and now love of her life—had kissed her goodbye in that empty hallway before Jack and Lacey’s wedding last year, a hint of loneliness had crawled into her heart.

“So help me, Tess,” he’d said, nudging her to the wall with an agony that had shocked both of them to the core. “I am so in love with you …”

Her answering moan had melted into his mouth before she gently pushed him away, the same torment in his face that she felt in her own. “Ben, I’m in love with you too—desperately—but this is not the time nor place.”

And so he had left after the wedding, one of the country’s top cardiac surgeons opting for a six-month medical missionary trip a friend had been badgering him about for years. To give her time with Adam and then time to grieve. Only six months had turned into eight, so when his once frequent letters and emails tapered off to only here and there, her loneliness had spread like the vile disease that had taken Adam’s life. A sharp stab of pain wrung more moisture from her eyes. What if he had changed his mind about marrying her? What if he’d met someone else? What if he didn’t need her anymore like she needed him?

Oh, Ben, where are you?

“Tess.” Cam’s voice was gentle as always.

Her eyes jerked open, so lost in her thoughts that she had to blink several times before Cam’s face came into view. “Yes?”

She startled when he reached across the table to tenderly brush a tear from her cheek. “You know I don’t mind the moments of silence between us because I understand.” He slowly sat back down, kind eyes probing hers with a concern that had been a balm to her soul these last five months. “Because the silence is comfortable, like our friendship.” He paused, a crease above a classic nose on a face most women considered attractive, she supposed, although she’d been too depressed to notice. One side of his full lips lifted into an off-center smile that popped a dimple, and she blinked, suddenly caught off-guard by military-short sandy hair and hazel eyes the exact shade of Ben’s. “But when the friend I’ve come to care for starts shedding crocodile tears …” He cuffed the back of his neck with an adorable grimace that made her smile. “Well, I tend to revert to Navy mode, and the Rear Admiral in me takes over.”