The boys finished showering and dressing faster than Marsh had expected, and ten minutes after returning to the locker room, he was headed for his car. He mentally reviewed his conversation with Karissa and tried to figure out what he’d said to set her off, or if the thing bothering her was unrelated to their conversation.
He arrived at Wendel’s which, in addition to their burgers and fries, had terrific shakes and soft-serve ice cream, as well as great flavors of the scoopable kind. He didn’t see Karissa’s car in the lot, so he went inside to claim a booth for them. The parking lot was predictably full and the inside was filled beyond capacity; most of the patrons had been at the game and greeted Marsh as he walked past. If he got a few grumbles or glares, he reminded himself that it was all part of the job.
“Marsh, is that you?” a woman’s voice asked from his right while he spoke with a man who used to teach senior English.
Marsh turned to see the tall willowy blonde he’d dated for two years in high school. “Sasha, I haven’t seen you in ages. How have you been?” He slid his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels.
He listened to her prattle about her job in Boulder, her ex-husbands—all three of them—and the two kids who were in the corner playing arcade games. She finally slowed enough to ask, “So, what are you up to?”
“I teach history at the high school, and I’m the boys’ basketball coach.”
“Right.” She drew the word out, infusing it with extra meaning. “I heard about your little problems. What a terrible ending to such a promising season.” She patted his arm, as if to console him.
He bristled, irritated by her patronizing attitude. “The season isn’t over yet, so we’ve still got time to prove ourselves. I’m proud of how the boys played tonight.”
She looked confused. “But I heard you lost.”
“We did, but it was close. How long are you in town, Sash?” Marsh remembered how much he’d liked Sasha, how sweet and unaffected she’d been. No longer. He much preferred Karissa.
“Marsh!” Paul’s voice preceded the impact of a little body against Marsh’s legs.
“Hey, bud.” Marsh turned and picked up the kid, putting him between himself and Sasha. “Where’s your mom?”
“So slow. She’s coming.”
“Who’s this?” Sasha’s voice turned a little too bright.
“You know Karissa Carver. Hank and Bo’s little sister. This is her son.”
“Yeah, and Marsh is buying us ice cream!” Paul shot an arm into the air in celebration, narrowly missing Sasha’s face.
Sasha stepped back out of reach.
Marsh glanced behind him to find Karissa standing less than ten feet away, her eyes wary. “Come on over. You remember Sasha, don’t you?”
“Of course,” Karissa came to stand beside Marsh, though she didn’t touch him. “You two dated for a couple of years, didn’t you?” An Arctic chill blew through her tone.
“You have such an amazing memory!” Sasha cooed. “Marsh was always such a good boyfriend.” She gave his arm a playful squeeze.
“Yes.” Karissa turned to Marsh, though the frigid expression on her face didn’t soften at all. “Should we order? I don’t want to keep Paul out too late.”
“Of course.” He nodded to Sasha, glad to have an excuse to leave her behind but seriously confused about what was eating at Karissa. “It was good running into you. Have a nice weekend.”
***
Karissa tried to reign in all of the insecurities and frustration that roared through her when she saw Marsh talking with the beautiful Sasha. She’d recognized the blonde on sight and the flirty way she touched Marsh’s arm, the flutter of her lashes, the teasing smile. ‘Sash’ was a woman on the prowl, and Marsh didn’t seem too determined to put up a fight.
After the night Karissa had experienced, the last thing she needed was to deal with her insecurities and remember the way she’d felt when Dennis had told her he wanted to marry Sheryl. One corner of her mind niggled, saying that she was overreacting, but all she could feel was the pain of being passed over for another woman. When she’d talked to Dennis earlier that day, he sounded so jazzed about being a daddy. He’d never been that way before, which had to be her fault, somehow, because Paul had been perfect.
What was she doing getting involved with another man? Sure, Marsh claimed he’d loved her for years, but that didn’t mean much. Especially considering how Dennis had kept saying he loved her almost up until he left her.
Well, if Marsh wanted Sasha, there was nothing Karissa could do about it, so there was no point in getting bent out of shape. And what was with the criticism about how she’d talked with someone she knew in school, as if she could have ESP about Alanna’s profession? Where did he get off telling her who she could be friends with? Dennis had done the same thing and there was no way she would put up with it again.
She got through the ordering process, then kept up a steady stream of chatter with her son, so she wouldn’t have to hold a conversation with Marsh. When Marsh returned with their ice cream though, Paul quieted down.
“Are you having a rough day?” Marsh asked carefully when he was finally given a chance to talk.
“Not especially.” She focused on her ice cream cone so she wouldn’t have to look at him.
“Tired?”
“Nope. I’m fine.”
Marsh gave a sigh of irritation. “So what’s bothering you?”
“Nothing you need to worry about.” That was patently untrue, but Karissa wasn’t going to discuss her feelings in front of her son. It was bad enough she was letting Paul and Marsh spend time together when she wasn’t sure what she wanted from the relationship—thinking she was falling for Marsh didn’t mean he was the right one for her. What would happen to Paul if another man left him behind? She should never have let them grow so close. But then, how could she have prevented it?
***
“Fine.” Giving up on getting any answers from Karissa, and completely irritated by the way she had shut him out, Marsh turned to Paul. “So what’s going on, little man?”
“I have a baby sister. Daddy called to tell me. He even asked to talk to me so he could tell me himself.” He nodded in satisfaction. “I get to go down next weekend and meet my baby and we’re going to be bestest friends.”
Marsh snuck a glance at Karissa, but her face was impassive and her gaze was focused on the ice cream in front of her. “That’s cool,” Marsh said. “I bet you’re the best big brother ever.”
“Of course.” Paul nodded and went back to his ice cream.
Marsh studied Karissa for a long moment. Was the baby what was bothering her? And what was it, exactly, that bothered her? That it wasn’t hers? Did she still wish she was with the jerk? Had her attitude since she arrived at Wendel’s been due to jealousy, or had he been reading her wrong? And what was wrong with women that they wouldn’t just come right out and say what was bothering them?
Somehow they got through the ice cream—a crazy treat considering it was the middle of the winter and already well below zero outside—and Marsh walked Karissa out to her car. “Can I come over and talk after you’ve had time to get Paul into bed?” he asked once the boy was safely strapped into his car seat.
“I don’t see why you would need to.” Karissa reached for the handle on her door.
Marsh touched her arm, needing some kind of contact and nearly at the end of his rope with her attitude. “Hey, don’t play dumb with me. I know something’s wrong. Just tell me what it is so I can fix it.”
“Maybe it can’t be fixed.” She waited several seconds, then added, “You and Sasha looked cozy. Isn’t it nice to touch base again after years apart? She looks better than ever. I wonder how much plastic surgery she’s had.”
Marsh had never heard Karissa say something so catty, but at least it gave him something to work with. “Karissa, Sasha doesn’t mean anything to me. You know how I feel about you.”
“You guys dated for two years.” Karissa shrugged one shoulder as if it were a foregone conclusion. “You don’t do that if you don’t care about someone. You aren’t built that way.”
He reached out and took her chin, turning her face toward him so he could see her eyes. “I liked Sasha fine, and she was fun and sweet, but it never got serious between us, which is why we broke up. Now I wouldn’t date her even if you weren’t in the picture. And why is this even an issue—you know you’re the one I love, right?”
It took her a long moment to respond. “I’m not sure what I know anymore. Really. I’m just tired. I’ll feel better tomorrow. Can I go home now?” She touched a finger to the corner of her eye, wiping away a tear that had been growing there.
That tear just about killed him. “Sure, in just a minute.” He leaned in and kissed her with all the fervor and frustration he’d been feeling that evening. He poured his heart into the kiss until she started to soften, relax against him. No matter what was wrong, he had to make her understand that she was still number one for him.
He pulled back and she sucked in a breath before unsteadily asking, “What was that?”
“A reminder of why you’re with me, and why I’m with you.” He brushed the hair out of her face, lingering on her cheeks, which were already cold. “We have something special. Don’t shut me out.”
It took her a long moment, but eventually she nodded. “I’m sorry. It’s just this thing with Dennis, and then you basically took me to task for having a conversation with Alanna, and then you were all flirty with your ex-girlfriend and it just got on my last nerve. Trusting that you’re not going to change your mind about us eventually is not going to be easy. It’s the hardest part of all of this, and it was hard seeing you with someone else.”
He slid his hands up her arms, along her shoulders, and to her neck so he cradled her face, tipping her head back to face him. “I love you, Karissa. How long is it going to take you to understand what that means to me?”
“I don’t know.” She stared into his eyes. “I thought I was ready to move past all of this, but now I’m not so sure.”
The pain and doubt in her voice tore at him. “You don’t trust me. Even after everything I’ve done to reassure you, you still don’t trust me.”
She shook her head and wet her lips. “I don’t trust me. I don’t trust that you’ll keep loving me. That I’m really worth it.”
He slid his hands onto both of her shoulders as the icy wind whipped past them. “I’m not Dennis.”
“No, you’re not.” She paused for a long moment. “I really ought to go. You’ll be there for Sunday dinner?”
“Yes.” His shoulders fell as he realized he hadn’t made any headway. She still thought he would leave her. How could he convince her that he wasn’t going anywhere? “What’s it going to take to convince you that I mean it, Karissa? Because I’ll buy you a ring any time you’re ready.”
She shuddered slightly and pulled out of his grip. “And that worked so well for me last time.”
He let his hands drop and stepped back, feeling like he’d just been slapped. She said she knew he wasn’t Dennis, but she had to be lying if she thought so little of him. “Fine. See you at Sunday dinner.” He moved to the sidewalk and watched her car pull back onto the road.
Maybe Hank had been right. Maybe Karissa was too hurt to take a relationship seriously yet. And she may never be ready.
Marsh pushed that thought away. He wasn’t about to concede defeat.