Changing Course (Wrecked and Ruined #1)(70)

"Okay, I'll be right back." She heads up the stairs leaving me alone standing in the cold, and feeling like a total jackass. Very fitting.

A few minutes later she returns looking more beautiful than ever. A smile plastered across her face. A smile I know isn't real, but it still manages to steal my breath.

I swing open the passenger side door as she slides inside without a single word. "Jesse James, are you ready for some horrible banquet food?" I ask, trying to lighten the mood.

"Brett, promise me something." Her voice is stern and serious. I prepare myself to make her yet another heartfelt promise. Hell, I'll promise her anything at this point. "If dinner sucks, promise me we can order room service."

I laugh, leaning my head back in relief. "I swear. Actually, even if it's not terrible, we should at the very least order dessert."

"Maybe we can get into our pajamas and order one of those chocolate cakes with the melted chocolate inside."

"Absolutely, well...except for the pajamas part. No pajamas." She finally gives me a genuine Jesse smile.





Jesse

Two weeks later…

THINGS HAVE surprisingly been great since I opened my big mouth confessing my love to Brett. I figured it would get weird, or it might even scare him away completely. But if anything, he's started coming around more often. It's as if showing up almost every day is his way of proving to me that he does care. I think he might feel guilty for not sharing my feelings. Just what Brett needs, more guilt.

He and I live in a perfect little world of denial. We don't talk about Sarah or our feelings. We definitely don't talk about a future together. We just exist, hanging out and talking about our days, but never our tomorrows. Somehow it works. I keep telling myself that I should ask about Sarah. Maybe try to help Brett move forward, but I always chicken out at the last minute and end up having sex with him instead. At least we're good at the sex part.

Last week, Brett shocked the heck out of me by asking me to spend Christmas with his family. I used every excuse I could think of to get out of going. It's not that I didn't want to go...okay, it was completely that I didn't want to go. I'm not ready to meet Brett's family. What if they look at me like the other woman? I'm sure they were close with Sarah. What are they going to think of him seeing someone new now? But Brett pulled out the trump card, and invited Kara first. She of course jumped at the opportunity to spend the night with the Sharp family. When I informed her later that he doesn't have any brothers, she was pretty disappointed.

Today, I'm going to the station to meet Caleb on his lunch break so he can help me shop for Brett’s Christmas present. I'm buying him size fifteen bowling shoes. Every time we hit the lanes he always limps for days afterward. They don't offer rental shoes that big so he crams his feet in a size too small. Caleb agreed to help me pick them out. At least this way if he hates them, I can blame it on Caleb.

"Hey, baby girl." I hear Caleb say as walk into the front of the police station.

He’s sitting on the desk flirting with the sixty year old receptionist. I look around equally hoping to catch a glimpse and trying to avoid Brett. I'd love to see him in his work element, but I don't want him to know I'm going shopping with his best friend.

"You can relax, he's not here."

"Oh, um...okay," I say disappointed. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah come on back, I need to grab my jacket." He leads me around a surprisingly quiet police station.

He stops on one side of two desks pushed together. "Give me just a minute, I need to send out this email and close out my computer." He nods to the desk facing his, "That one is Brett's. Have a seat."

I slowly walk over trying not to look too eager, but inside I'm dying to see what pictures are inside the two frames propped on his desk. I feel a rush of relief when neither of them are of Sarah. One is a family photo of a herd of beautiful people. Caleb wasn't wrong, that is a good gene pool. The other is a picture of him with his parents at his graduation from the police academy. God, he looks so young, but he's way better looking now. He's filled out and looks more like a man than the boy in the picture.

I sit in his chair and study his workspace. He's a pretty neat guy. His apartment isn't immaculate, but it's always tidy. His desk is no different. All the papers are in stacked baskets, pens all stored in a Chicago Bears mug, and his paper clips cling to a magnet next to his keyboard. I want to open all his draws and get a closer look at this professional side of Brett Sharp, but I'm relatively sure digging through a detective’s desk is frowned upon in the eyes of the law.

Out of the corner of my eye, something under his keyboard catches my attention. I can tell it’s the edge of a photo and my heart drops. Ah, this must be where he hides the picture of Sarah I so feared he would have. Unable to stop myself, I reach forward uncovering it.

My breath hitches with what's revealed. If finding the picture hadn't already stolen my breath, the beautiful image in front of me would. It's a picture of us at the police ball. I have no idea who took this. It's not posed. It's just us standing talking. I'm staring up at him, and he must be saying something dirty because my cheeks are flushed-his thumb caressing the red. He's wearing a sexy smirk, and my face is glowing. I don't remember standing there with him, but I can feel a rush of the million emotions captured with one click of a camera.