Page 56 of Studfinder

“You know I’m still sorry about how everything happened,” she says, not letting it go.

“It’s over, Lisa.”

Stepping up to me, her hand comes to my chest. “But we could start over. A fresh start. A second chance. You look so good, Jake.”

My stomach churns at the solicitation. Lisa might be thinking she’s seductive, but she’s not. I don’t need a woman who broke our marriage vows. Hell, I don’t need any woman who isn’t committed to me, and that goes for Rita as well. Her earlier rejection still stings.

“I’m not interested in doing this with you,” I mutter, shaking my head at my ex-wife and removing her hand from my chest.

“I made a mistake. One night, Jake. One time. I made a mistake. Can’t you forgive me?”

I’m not interested in rehashing an old argument. Lisa and I both know it was more than one night. It was more than one time. Forgiveness was all I wanted once upon a time. Actually, faithfulness was what I wanted. I wanted Lisa to believe in us as a couple, but she hadn’t. She turned her back on me even before everything fell apart.

“I do forgive you, Lisa, because you have to live with the regret, not me.”

“What about your regrets?”

“What regrets?” I state, a cold sweat breaking out on me.

“The fire,” she whispers, showing her lack of faith in me once again.

“I’m not doing this,” I mutter, stepping away from my ex-wife. “Thanks for the ride, Lisa.” I turn my back on her and wave over my shoulder. I don’t need this shit. Not from Lisa. Not from any woman.

“So Lisa looked good,” Nolan teases, wiggling his brows over glassy, inebriated eyes.

“Yeah, that ship sailed, brother,” I state, pouring him a glass of water in the kitchen and handing it over to him, reminding me of so many nights he’d come home young and drunk, and I’d try to help him squash a potential killer hangover.

“Could go sailing again,” he says, lifting the glass and downing the water I offered.

“Not interested in sailing,” I say, wanting to cut this euphemism conversation short and get to bed. I’m exhausted.

“Thank goodness that other ship pulled out of port,” Nolan mutters.

“What ship?” I snort.

“Rita Captain.”

“Rita Kaplan,” I correct. “And what happened with you two anyway?”

“Oh, Jakey,” Nolan mutters. “The things I could tell you.” His eyelids lazily lower.

“Well, there’s always tomorrow,” I tease, patting him on the shoulder and stepping behind his chair to wheel him to his room. His hand catches mine over his shoulder.

“You didn’t need her,” Nolan says, and something about his touch and the tone of his voice has the hairs on the back of my neck rising. Stepping back around the front of the wheelchair, I lower to my haunches and glare up at my brother.

“Why would you say that, Nolan?”

“She was talking to that fancy lawyer, all chummy and hugging. They probably laughed about your conviction, saying how easy it was to put you away.” Nolan licks his lips, and his lids close once more.

“Why would you say that? Did you hear something?”

“I didn’t need to hear anything. She kept looking at me like she knows.”

More hair raising. A cold sweat starts next. “Like who knows what, little brother?” My voice is tight while I try to coax whatever it is he isn’t saying out of him. I remember having to do the same thing when he was younger. He’d be in trouble at school but didn’t directly say what he’d done to cause it. And typically, when trouble occurred, Nolan was the culprit. Softening my voice, lowering to his level, I learned how to speak to my brother to get him to open up. Of course, it was never Nolan’s fault. Someone else always made him do whatever he’d done.

“She knows about me. She knows about us.”

Having lost me, I pinch my brows in question. “Us?” Immediately, I think back to Lisa. Was Lisa standing near Nolan? Did Rita sense that something happened between my ex and my brother after all? My stomach churns again. The beers I drank slosh around in my belly.