Fighting the Flames (Firefighter Romance #1)(12)
Jessie moaned and stretched, trying to work out the crick in her neck, knowing she couldn’t do anything about the soreness between her legs.
She and Derrick made love three times—she thought—during the night and shared two bottles of wine between them. It had been so long since she’d had sex, she felt blissfully used up, in the best possible way.
Squinting at the screen, she typed: I’m fine. Promise. Be home in a couple of hours.
She plopped back on the bed, needing more sleep but her bladder had other ideas. Moaning again, she wondered where Derrick was, and if he was in better shape than she was. She staggered to the bathroom, then washed her hands, and splashed water on her face.
Ouch! The sharp pain on her shin would leave a whopper of a bruise; she just hoped it wasn’t bleeding. Pushing away from the coffee table she nearly tripped over, she continued to lurch toward the kitchen, fighting her urge to vomit along the way. Does she really need another reminder not to drink?
Stumbling and wincing with pain, she turned on the light over the sink, and noticed three empty bottles of wine, more than she’d originally thought. Two merlots and a cab, with one more corked and three quarters full. She remembered opening the second bottle, not much after that.
The lukewarm tap water didn’t help her nausea, but she drank it anyway, knowing she had to be severely dehydrated, if the way her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth was any indication. She grabbed the bottle of aspirin, even as her mind screamed no. She knew it was bad for your liver to take aspirin with alcohol, but it had been a few hours… hadn’t it? Choking down four aspirin, she finished another glass of water.
Falling back on the bed, she stretched out, willing the room to stop spinning. The white comforter was a little too warm, but she doesn’t care. The only thing that matters was her head. This was going to be a doozy.
She was surprised Lisa didn’t interrogate her after Derrick dropped her off a few hours later. He was much better off than she was, and had been working in the bar, which was still enjoying a brisk grand re-opening increase in business.
She had forgotten Lisa had taken her car, so he dropped her off and then went back to his apartment to catch up on missing sleep.
As Jessie stepped into the hallway, little Alexa screamed, “Aunt Jessie” and she thought her brain would fall onto the floor. Lisa smirked, but hushes her daughter, whispering, “Aunt Jessie’s not feeling well, let’s all be quiet.” The sweat dripping across Jessie’s puffy eyes and pale skin must have signaled Lisa to leave her alone. She did shoot Jessie the ‘I know you’re hung over and I could really make your life hell’ look, just for good measure.
“Would you like a nice glass of wine before dinner?” She heard Lisa smirk. She knew Jessie wouldn’t argue around her kids, but she had to get a least a dig in.
“Very funny, water is all I need, especially the fizzy kind if you have any.”
The smell of tomato and sausage baking made her stomach growl, and she couldn’t wait for the lasagna to come out of the oven. The dripping cheese and tomato sauce, the one part of the noodle where the sauce doesn’t quite cover it and it gets all crispy. Call her weird, but it was her favorite part; as long as it wasn’t totally dried up and burnt.
After a nice dinner, Jessie felt the vice around her head loosen considerably. The kids skipped off to watch a movie while Jessie gave Lisa a hand cleaning up. She might was well get the interrogation over with while Lisa had some sympathy left.
Filling the sink with bubbles, Lisa flicked a few of them on Jessie. What choice did she have? Jessie took a whole handful and blew them all over, hitting Lisa dead center in the face. Not exactly where she had aimed, but Lisa started it after all.
Sighing, Jessie allowed her sister the last shot and got a handful of bubbles up her nose. Laughing, Jessie raised her hands in defeat and begged for mercy which Lisa, believe it or not, gave her.
“So… how’re you feeling?” she asked.
“Better. The lasagna was perfect, thanks so much. I actually thought you might poison my portion.”
Lisa looked at her sister and turned serious again. “I have to admit, the proposal came as a huge surprise. But, I can see Shithead is trying, so if you’re willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, I will too.”
Jessie groaned, “Can you stop calling him Shithead?”
“Nope. I’ve not forgiven him that much.”
Chapter 8
Days pass into weeks, which pass into months, and suddenly nearly two years have slipped away. Derrick’s bar is finally in the black after losing money by the buckets in the beginning. Jessie had gotten a job at the local newspaper, but quit just a month before. They were finally financially secure enough for her to chase her dream of becoming a professional photographer. They were also able to make their promise of marriage a reality.
So here she was, standing in the bridal shop, once again in the dress of her dreams. This was her last fitting before her fairy-tale wedding this weekend. They were expecting close to two hundred guests. The week has been hectic to say the least.
“You look like an angel,” Jessie’s mom sniffed and fluffed the veil again. “I wish your dad could be here to walk you down the aisle.”
Tears filled her eyes, even as a sliver of anger pierced her heart. Here Mom stands, unsullied by the knowledge of Dad’s other life, forever ignorant of his betrayal. How wonderful it would be if I was also as oblivious.