The Perfect Husband by Lynn Dare

1

Cecilia

“That girl is never going to get married.”

No, what I’d never do was get those words out of my head. Words from my own sister. I stayed perfectly still, hardly breathing, as my family went on talking about me as if I was a sideshow for their entertainment.

“That’s a bit harsh, Cerisa.” Cruz, the one brother in a family full of sisters. And apparently, the only one who had my back.

Mom sighed. I recognized it even though I couldn’t see her. It was her typical “my kids are arguing again” sigh.

Let’s be real. My siblings and I loved each other, but we also annoyed the hell out of one another. These family cookouts were the only time I really spent with any of my sisters.

I lowered myself to the bottom step, willing the tears not to come.

“Am I wrong, Craig?” Cerisa used her best know-it-all voice on my brother. She was the youngest sibling, yet she was engaged to a guy my parents adored, and she thought that made her an expert on life.

Cruz groaned. Cerisa and Mom were the only people who ever called him Craig regularly. Cerisa when she wanted to be annoying, and Mom either with affection or when he was in trouble.

Caydence and Cami, the two oldest Cabots in our brood, were suspiciously silent.

It wasn’t like I was the black sheep of the family. Cami was married, sure, but Cay enjoyed the freedom of singlehood even more than I did. She used all her spare time not spent catering to someone else on advancing her career as a talent agent with a client list she never let me meet. How could someone know so many famous people and keep them from her sister?

There was silence for a moment, and I almost walked into the kitchen, thinking they’d finished. Normally, the family cookout took place outside with a game of soccer—which Cruz and my nephew Daniel usually won—and then we’d eat out there, pretending we weren’t constantly searching the lawn for fire ants. It was Florida, after all.

When my mom spoke again, her voice was quiet. “Why did she end the relationship this time?”

I raised a brow at the question. Relationship was such an odd word. Did it apply to a situation where I’d only gone on four dates with a guy before realizing he had a secret clown fetish? Totally serious. The guy apparently liked to dress up like a clown and perform, but that wasn’t the worst of it. He’d wanted me to wear his multicolored wig the first time we… uh… did stuff my mother would not approve of.

But I wasn’t about to tell her that.

I’d run out of there so fast I left my favorite bra behind. Damn clowns. My boobs hadn’t felt the same since.

“Does it matter?” Cruz had always been my protector. “He wasn’t right for her.”

I could practically hear Cerisa roll her eyes. “They never are. There was that one who chewed too loudly.”

“The one who talked too much.” There was Cami, piping in with her already-married opinions on girls who reached thirty still single. I’d wondered when she was going to say something.

Caydence laughed, the traitor. “That’s something coming from Celia. What about the one who wasn’t good enough at—”

Cruz’s cough cut her off.

“Chess,” Cay finished. “I was totally going to say chess.”

I’d never played chess in my life.

“My Celia is special.” Mom’s words had me getting to my feet, ready to join my family, but then I stopped. “Not everyone is meant to fall in love.”

My breathing stuttered. Not everyone is meant to fall in love. Unlike two of my sisters, I didn’t believe a woman had to get married to become whole, to reach her full value, but the thought my mom had given up on it happening for me?

I couldn’t give two shits about marriage, but love?

Dammit, I hated how much I wanted that.

Wiping tears from my cheeks, I realized I had two options. Storm into the kitchen and let my family face the fact that I’d heard every little thing they’d said about me or get out of here. The second choice sounded really good right about now.

Before I could make my decision, someone walked out of the kitchen, stopping when she saw me.

I froze until Ellie stepped closer into the light. Relief flooded me that none of my sisters had caught me.

Ellie’s lips turned down at the edges. She’d started out as being simply the sister of my brother’s friend. Then, she became my brother’s girlfriend. Now, she was my best friend, closer to me than any of my sisters.

I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer, and she rushed toward me, pulling me into a solid hug.

With a glance back over her shoulder, she tugged me toward the front door. We slipped out into the evening, where rain still drizzled from dark clouds overhead.

Huddling under the overhang on the front stoop, Ellie slipped her arm through mine and leaned in. “You should really tell them about the clown sex.”

I snorted a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “Yeah, I’ll just go in there and say, ‘Hey, Mom, Dad, the reason I’m still single is because I was screwing this guy I hardly knew, and he was into way too much kink. Maybe the next guy I sleep with will be normal. Fingers crossed.’”

Ellie suppressed a smile. “Well, someone needs to shut Cerisa up, and I’m pretty sure that would make her speechless for once.”

A sigh worked itself out of me. As the baby of the family, Cerisa was always more forceful in making her opinions known. Like she had to be if she wanted us to see her. We shared a room for most of our younger years, but lately it was like I didn’t know her at all.

“I think I need to get out of here.” I peered through the darkness to where my car was parked at the end of the driveway. I’d taken to always arriving a few minutes late, knowing my always-punctual family would get there before me. It kept my car from getting trapped so I could make a quick escape.

“Want me to come with you?” Ellie asked, and I loved her for it. “Your brother won’t care if I ditch him.”

He would. Cruz loved Ellie more than I’d ever seen anyone love someone. Before them, I hadn’t known it was possible to be so in sync with another person. I wanted that.

I just couldn’t let anyone know I wanted it.

“I don’t think so.” I slid my arm free. “I kind of want to be alone tonight.”

Ellie offered me an understanding smile. “What should I tell your family? Work emergency?”

I laughed. “El, I’m a first grade teacher. What kind of emergency would I have on a Friday night?”

She shrugged. “Class pet died?”

“You mean our stuffed alligator?” My school had banned live pets in classrooms ever since a snake got loose last year and found its way to the principal’s office. “Just say you haven’t seen me. It’s not exactly a new thing for me to get out of Dodge when I feel like it.”

She nodded. “You’ve got it. But please do me a favor and don’t go home and drink wine in front of Netflix. No amount of teenage singing ghosts will make you feel better.”

Ellie knew me way too freaking well. Netflix and wine was the new Netflix and chill. “Fine.”

I stepped away from her into the miserable January drizzle. It could be worse, there could be snow or something. Thank God for Florida.

I slid behind the wheel of my Mini Cooper convertible and wiped wet brown hair out of my eyes. It was the perfect night to curl up under my heated blanket with an entire box of wine, but Ellie was right. That wouldn’t do me any good. I’d spend the entire time wondering if my family was embarrassed by me.

We lived in a society where people got more excited for wedding and baby announcements than any kind of actual accomplishments. I’d been named Teacher of the Year in my district last year out of over a thousand teachers from the surrounding towns.

My mom’s reaction? That’s nice, honey. Do you know if Cerisa and Eric have set a wedding date yet?

I loved my mom with my entire heart. She was amazing, the best mom. But in this, she was wrong. More than anything, I wanted to prove that to her that I, Cecilia Cabot, was meant to fall irreparably, heartbreakingly in love.

I would find a man who wanted to love me, who was everything I’d always dreamed of. And he’d be a lot better looking than Cerisa’s fiancé. That was just a bonus. I hadn’t found him yet, but he was out there. I knew it.

There was nothing for me in Cape Kismet, the town I called home. Ellie and Cruz were at Mom’s, and they’d brought along Kennedy and Hadden for the cookout. That was my circle, the people who kept me sane.

If I couldn’t be with them, I needed to go where nobody knew me. And in Cape Kismet, that wasn’t possible. It was a small town and everyone knew everybody else. Most of the time, that was great, but sometimes, it was really freaking annoying.

Like now. I just wanted to sit somewhere noisy, where no one would talk to me.

I headed toward the more rural areas away from the Cape. There had to be a bar or something here.

My windshield wipers worked furiously to keep the rain from blocking my view. The pounding grew heavier the farther into town I drove until I could hardly see anything in front of me at all. Then, a lit-up sign broke through the night, its neon glow calling to me, beckoning to me with its promise of booze and maybe a man.

Definitely a man.

This was what my family took issue with. My losing myself in jerks who were never long-term options.

And I didn’t care.

Not tonight.

I knew what other women would call me. I knew the names my own sisters probably thought, but there were worse vices to have. At least I didn’t do drugs.

I parked in the small gravel parking lot, shutting my car off. My headlights faded, casting me into shadows as I looked up at the dirty windows with signs promoting the various ways to escape one’s own mind.

Escape was what I needed.

Not everyone is meant to fall in love.

I wasn’t ready to believe Mom yet, but right now all I wanted, for a little space in time, was the company of someone who didn’t know me inside and out, someone who didn’t know enough to judge or criticize. There was something to be said for the ignorance of strangers.

I counted to three in my head before pushing the door open and darting into the rain. Running across the parking lot, I reached the heavy wooden door and threw it open.

Water slicked across the floor in front of me, no rain mats anywhere in sight. I was moving so quickly I didn’t have time to stop myself before my legs flew out from under me. I landed hard on my back and groaned, squeezing my eyes shut. If I was lucky, this bar would be completely empty.

A slow clap started, followed by more, along with whistling and yelling. I opened my eyes to find an entire bar of patrons cheering on my fall.

I searched the crowd for anyone I knew, breathing a sigh of relief when I didn’t recognize a single person. My eyes caught those of a man standing near the back wall. He didn’t clap for me or cheer with the others in mock excitement.

Instead, his dark gaze burned into me, setting my skin on fire. I couldn’t make out many of his features that were hidden in the shadows, and I tore my eyes away as a man reached a hand down to help me up.

“You made quite an entrance.” He smiled like it was so easy for him. It normally was for me, too.

I took in the towel draped over one shoulder, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing intricate tattoos. “You’re the bartender.”

“What gave it away?” He chuckled.

“Maybe I’m just hoping.” I’d never been good at turning the flirt off.

“I take it you need a drink.” He walked back around the bar.

I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror. Loose, wet strands had fallen free of my ponytail and clung to my pale cheeks. I looked tired, like a drowned, tired rat. Turning to the bar, I sighed. “You have no idea.”

“What can I get you?”

“Alcohol.” I really didn’t care what kind. “Pronto.”

A grin stretched his handsome face. “I know exactly what you need.” He pulled down a bottle of José Cuervo and a shot glass, filling it to the brim.

I relaxed onto a stool, glad most of the patrons were spread out among the tables and not crowding the bar. When the bartender slid the shot glass toward me, I threw it back, relishing the burn.

His brow arched. “Okay, then. Let’s get you another.”

I made myself a mental note to call Cruz in an hour and tell him to pick me up on his way home. There was no way I’d be driving tonight.

A deep voice behind me sent a shiver down my spine. “Another whiskey please. On the rocks.”

I knew without turning it was the man from the back of the bar, the one who’d drawn my gaze like there was no one else around. I didn’t know how I was so sure that voice belonged to him, I just did.

The bartender was much less smiley dealing with this other patron than he had been with me, but I’d lost all interest in his smiles or anything else.

Before I could stop myself, I turned. “Whiskey? You trying to forget or forgive?”

“What?” Those eyes locked on mine, and I could see they weren’t dark like I’d thought before but a brilliant blue instead.

I threw back another shot. “Whiskey is not what anyone drinks when they’re enjoying themselves.”

“I enjoy whiskey.” He looked down into his glass.

“No, you order it on the rocks in hopes that the ice will dilute it enough for the taste to be worth it. Trust me, I know drinkers.” I was mostly a wine person and only really drank with my girls, but I knew men.

“You don’t know me.” He didn’t sound unkind, only confused.

“No, but there are three reasons a man drinks whiskey.” I eyed his leather jacket, the way he carried himself with confidence. “The first is they want to look cool, but something tells me you don’t care about that.”

He stayed silent, not moving or taking a drink as he waited for me to continue.

“Next up is forgiveness. Someone betrayed you, and you want to move past it. Or you betrayed someone and need the false hope they’ll forgive you.”

When he didn’t respond, my next words stopped on the tip of my tongue.

Then, the strangest thing happened. One corner of his mouth curved up, and I felt like I’d won the freaking lottery. He took the stool next to me.

I looked from the bartender to this more intense man, trying to keep my head.

“Go on,” the man said. “Maybe reason three is the winner.”

I didn’t want to tell him the third reason to drink whiskey was the same as my only reason to drink tequila.

He leaned in. “Oh, darlin’, don’t quit now. I’m enjoying this show of yours.”

I met his eyes in challenge, not willing to back down. “There’s something in your life you need to forget.” I lowered my voice. “In my experience, it’s usually loneliness.”

His mouth opened, but he didn’t say a word as he released a puff of air. His eyes remained locked on mine as if looking for something. I didn’t realize he’d moved closer until his breath warmed my face. He smelled of whiskey and spearmint, a heady combination, one I could get drunk on.

I didn’t know this man. We hadn’t even exchanged names. Yet, I wanted to kiss him more than I wanted my next shot. I wanted to fix the loneliness I saw in his gaze, my own feelings reflecting back at me.

Most of all, I wanted to forget. Maybe I should have been the one drinking whiskey. I turned back to the bartender, who was no longer giving me a flirty smile. “Can I get a whiskey?” My eyes flicked to the unknown man beside me. “I’ll take it neat.” I didn’t want anything diluting my escape tonight.

Glass in hand, I lifted it, waiting for the blue-eyed man to do the same. He tapped his glass against mine. “To forgetting,” he said.

“To escaping,” I responded, sipping my whiskey and trying not to choke on the taste. I closed my eyes as it burned on the way down. When I opened them again, I found the man staring at me, an indecipherable expression on his face.

Not everyone is meant to fall in love.

Maybe not. But we can sure as hell escape.