Pride And Pregnancy. Karen Templeton
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He also didn’t miss the lack of panty lines underneath all that soft, smooth, snuggly fabric.
A couple of hours later, he and Blake sat on Troy’s redwood deck, legs stretched out in front of them, nursing a couple of Cokes as well as their sore muscles. The twins and Shaun were gone, off on an exploratory hike of the new neighborhood. If it hadn’t been for the Sandia Mountains on the other side of Albuquerque peeking through the just-budded-out trees, he could almost imagine he was a kid again, on vacation at the Wisconsin lake where his parents would drag him and his brothers every summer. Letting his eyes drift closed, Troy took advantage of the moment to sink into the padded patio chair, soaking up the spring air, and the peace.
“That neighbor of yours is something to behold,” Blake began in his Oklahoma drawl, and Troy thought, So much for peace.
He scrunched farther down in the chair, his Coke resting on his stomach. “I suppose. If you like that type.”
“Not talking about me. Obviously. I got me my woman,” his partner said with a noisy, satisfied stretch. “Now we need to start thinking about plugging up the gap in your life. And don’t even think about giving me some crap about how you’re just fine, the boys are all you need, it’s not time yet, blah-blah-blah.”
“I wasn’t going to,” Troy said quietly, his eyes still closed.
He could tell he’d caught Blake off guard. After more than ten years of working together, a rare occurrence.
“You saying you’re ready to move on?” Blake finally said.
“You sound surprised.”
“Try flabbergasted.”
“Why? It’s been four years.” Giving up on dozing, Troy sat forward, his Coke clasped in both hands between his spread knees. “I loved Amy. I’ll always love Amy. But I’m tired of being alone.”
“And you miss sex.”
Troy’s mouth pulled tight. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”
Blake was quiet for a moment. Understandable, considering how wrecked Troy had been after his wife’s death, how adamant he’d been that there’d never be anyone else. Even now, the pain still lurked, even if these days it tended to stay curled up in its corner, like an old, weary dog. But for every inch the grief receded, emptiness rushed in to take its place.
“Sounds like you’ve been chewing this over for a while,” Blake said.
Troy held up his soda can, squinting at the shiny metal in the late afternoon light. “A year or so. Ever since we started talking about relocating the business down here.” He lowered the can. “I don’t know, I guess the change finally rattled something loose. That maybe I’d like to think about another relationship while my working parts are all still in order.”
The dark-haired man crossed his arms, fixing Troy with a far-too-astute gaze. “Any idea what you intend to do about that?”
Troy released a weighty sigh. “None whatsoever. Amy and I were together for thirteen years. And she’s been gone for four.” He shook his head. “Saying I’m a little out of practice is a gross understatement.”
“It’ll come back to you, I’m sure,” Blake said dryly.
“I’m not talking about that, dirtwad. I’m talking about dating. Starting a new relationship. It was bad enough in my teens when at least I had youth to hide behind. Now I’m supposed to know what I’m doing.”
One side of Blake’s mouth tilted up. “You’re not exactly indigent and you still have all your teeth. My advice? Leave it up to the women. They’re born knowing what to do.”
Both men jumped when overloud country music knifed the silence; just as suddenly, the volume receded. Not, however, fast enough for Troy.
“Like that one, for instance,” Blake said when Karleen appeared in her yard, practically hidden by an umbrella-sized straw hat. A minute later, she was walking back and forth, head down, pushing something—a spreader, maybe?—singing enthusiastic backup with the female vocalist. Her cell phone rang; she stopped, answered it, that damned low, warm laugh carrying over the fence on the slightly chilly breeze.
Staring, borderline miserable, Troy shook his head.
“Why the hell not?”
“Her front yard?”
“At least there’s no junkers on cement blocks. Or toilets.”
“That we can see. Anyway, then there’s the hair. And the nails. And the…” He rolled his hand. “Attributes.”
Blake frowned. “I’m not following.”
Her call finished, Troy waited until he heard the rhythmic groan and squeak of the spreader before he said, “The woman’s not real, Blake, she’s a hallucination brought on by sexual deprivation. And I’m not looking for a hook-up. Which is all that would be. If anything.”
“Oh, believe me, buddy, anything it would be.” Blake took a swig of his soda, chuckling. “Something is what that would be. I half expected the grass between the two of you to ignite.”
“That’s crazy. And do not—” he jabbed his soda can in Blake’s direction “—shake your heading pityingly at me.”
“I’ll shake my head any damn way I want. I’m beginning to wonder if maybe I should go back and double check the van, make sure you didn’t leave your brain inside it. The woman’s pretty, likes kids, seems reasonably conversant in the English language and looked like she had her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth for a while there. No, wait—that was you.” Blake pushed himself back on the chair, grinning. “Not real sure I see what the problem is.”
“Just because she doesn’t have kids doesn’t mean she’s single,” Troy said before he caught himself.
Blake tapped his own wedding ring. “No ring.”
“So she could still have a boyfriend, you know. But it doesn’t matter, because I’m not interested. Oh, come on, Blake…you know as well as I do that ‘opposites attract’ stuff is a crock. Yes, she strikes me as a nice enough woman, but I’m looking for something with some substance to it.”
“Like you had with Amy.”
“Exactly. What?” he said when Blake shook his head again.
Dark-brown eyes met his. “They call it starting over for a reason, dumb-ass. There’s never gonna be another Amy, and thinking that’s even possible isn’t fair to anybody. Especially you. But aren’t you jumping the gun a little here? Thinking you’re gonna find the next Mrs. Lindquist right off the bat without taking a couple of test drives first? Why limit your options by automatically tossing out any woman who doesn’t immediately make you think wedding bells?”
“Because it’s a waste of time? Because…” He glanced toward Karleen’s house, then lowered his voice even further. “Because