"You might tell her that." Tucker smirked. "Your ex-girlfriend was all over the ink shop yesterday telling Winter about how you two were about heartbeats away from registering at Target."

This reveal only made Finn's glower turn darker. Maybe Tucker wasn't oblivious. Maybe he was just an asshole. Not that this excused Sam for cheating on him. She should’ve chosen better in the first place.

"Lay off, Anderson," Adam said coolly and turned a warning gaze at Finn. No crazy shit in his bar, he telegraphed. Finn got the message and stared at the band, cutting Tucker out. Having lost his toy, Tucker scanned the bar and then turned to Adam. "Where's Sam? She said she was working tonight."

Adam gave a nod toward the second floor of the bar. "VIP."

"Why? She hates it up there."

Maybe because she’s found an ounce of shame and took herself away from the scene of the crime. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, the guilt scratching at my back. I had to come clean to this guy, but not in front of everyone.

"She doesn't hate it. Besides, I think it was too crowded down here for her," Adam said.

"Whatever. I need to see her. I think she's pissed at me," Tucker said.

"How come?"

"Why d’you automatically assume I'd done something?" Tucker complained, but he caved under Adam's cool stare. "Fine. I skipped out on the memorial lunch."

Adam and Finn cursed in unison.

"You're a douchebag. Your brother dies during deployment and you can’t even bring yourself to go to lunch?” Adam punched Tucker in the arm. From Tucker's wince, the fist carried a bit more power than a friendly smack. Tucker must've felt guilty because he took the punch without retaliation. So maybe Tucker was a serious douche, but that still didn’t excuse Sam from kissing me.

"Yeah, yeah, but seriously, I need to see her. When's she got a break?" Tucker asked.

Adam stared at him for a moment, kind of measuring him up. "You still got a thing for her? If so, you better start treating her right."

"Or else what? You're going make a move?" Tucker asked a little belligerently. This was like a goddamn telenovela. I looked at Bo and he wiggled his eyebrows. But seriously they were asking if Tucker still had a thing for his own wife? Were they separated? I wanted to stand up, yell time out and have everyone explain themselves because I was damned confused. The one thing I did figure out was I owed someone an apology and right now I had a feeling that apology needed to be given to Sam.

"No, dumbass. And I don't think you should either,” Adam replied.

"Why, because of Will?" Tucker returned. More belligerence. Everyone at the table was watching this train wreck. We couldn’t look away. "At least I'm not fucking sisters."

This was apparently directed toward Finn because he leaned forward immediately and shot back, "No, you’re only trying to fuck your dead brother's widow."

Tucker's chair made a screeching sound when he stood up, fists at the ready. Finn had risen to meet the challenge and everyone on my side of the table tensed up. We were backing Finn. No question. But Adam stood and separated the two.

"Come on, Tucker, let's go upstairs." Tucker allowed himself to be dragged away while Finn stood glaring at the two of them. He kicked one of the chairs and then left the bar. A minute later, we heard the roar of a hemi engine as Finn drove away.

"Did I catch that right? Tucker Anderson is Sam's brother-in-law? And he wants in her panties?" Everyone nodded, wide-eyed. Yup, I'd gotten that right, which meant I’d gotten everything oh-so-wrong before. Well, shit. All the details clicked into place. Sam was a widow of a military guy who’d died over in the Middle East. Her brother-in-law was the crapbag who’d just taken off. And I was the fucker who’d accused her of cheating on her dead husband. I started toward the bar.

"Don't go there," Bo said warningly. “No need to save damsels you don’t even know.”

"Go where?" I pretended like I didn't know what he was talking about.

“She’s got all she can handle if her brother-in-law is looking for a poke," Noah added.

"Ugh, can we not talk about that poor girl like this?" Grace interjected.

"Sorry," we all mumbled. It was low class. She’d made the ultimate sacrifice, losing her man in battle. That had to be respected and I wasn’t leaving until I’d made amends.

Samantha

AFTER GATSBY’S CLEARED OUT, I came down and helped Eve cash out the patio bar. “The hottie that arrived with Adam left alone, or at least without a girl. Maisey was mad because he wouldn't even accept her number. Just said that she was too pretty for him.”

I ignored her and sorted and arranged the bills so all the numbers were facing the same direction. Orderly things made sense. Knitting a precise pattern of stitches into a blanket or socks made sense. Trying to figure out a new man? That did not make sense.

"He came up to the bar a couple of times. Like he was looking for someone,” Eve said.

My hand hovered over the bills for a moment as a little thrill inside of me surged up. He looked for me? No, stop it, I thought, and clenched my hand for a moment, the pain of my nails digging into my palm bringing me back down to earth.

Eve put out a hand to stop my counting. “Steve said you had a run-in with a customer and that’s why you hid upstairs all night. The patron he described sounded a lot like Adam’s new friend.”

I closed my eyes for a moment and then opened them to see Eve still staring at me. “Yeah, it was him. I kissed him.” I didn’t tell her that I virtually dragged him down the dark hallway and then climbed him like a pole and rubbed against him like a cat in heat until I was left with wet panties and a whole lot of regrets.

Eve squealed and clapped her hands. “Oh, Sam, that’s awesome. What happened next?” She placed her fingers under her chin for support and batted her eyelashes. “Tell me more. Tell me more. Did he put up a fight?”

I smiled at her use of the words from Grease. “No, Sandra Dee, he did not, but when he saw my wedding ring he was plenty pissed off.”

“Oh no.” She groaned and lifted my left hand. She grimaced slightly. “Do you think you’re ready to take that off? You definitely don’t want to be attracting guys who think it’s okay to hit on married women.”

“I hadn’t even thought of it that way.” I didn’t know if I was ready to take off the ring. Removing the band seemed to signal that I was ready for other things—like another relationship, another boyfriend, another husband. Experimentally, I tugged at my diamond, but there was little give to it, the knuckle preventing the ring from sliding any further off my finger. No, not ready for taking my ring off then. But the memory of Gray’s mouth on mine and the dirty words he’d growled in my ear made me think I was ready for something. The press of his body against mine was like taking the first sip of hot coffee in the morning. It woke me up and I was hungry for more. I knocked my head against the register. “I’m no good at this. It’s just one of a million reasons why I shouldn’t have been kissing Gray.”

“No. No. It’s all good. Is that his name, Gray? I like it. It’s unusual.”

“It’s a color. Who names their kids colors?”

“Weird people. California people.” Eve’s boyfriend had arrived in the lounge and parked himself on a bar stool while I finished cashing out the drawer and she completed the bottle count.

“Opposites, then,” Eve cooed. She let go of my hand so she could pat her heart.

“Don’t go having us married in your imagination. I can’t even get my ring off, which means according to you that I’ll only attract the slimiest of slime.” The beautifully cut facets sparkled even in the crappy lighting of the bar as I waved my hand in front of her face. “This is Carolyn’s, you know.”

“Will gave you his mother’s ring?”

“Yes. But then David had to buy Carolyn a five-carat diamond to replace this one.” I pulled the diamond around to the inside of my hand. “It all worked out.”

“Are you going to see him again?”

Picking up the bills, I started counting again. “No. He was pretty angry. Besides, I could probably be used in an instructional video about how not to interact with males."

“Go up to him and explain.”

“Explain what?” Randy interjected.

“Sam made out with a guy tonight down by the storage closet and then he saw her ring and got mad. I told her she should go and explain that she’s not married anymore.”

For a moment I was irritated that Eve was sharing but what the heck, a male opinion might be worthwhile. “What do you think?” I asked him.

“I’m not sure I’d feel comfortable kissing a girl who’s got her wedding band on.” He popped more nuts in his mouth, swallowed them, and added, “But if you want to see him again then an explanation is worth a shot. Be real obvious about it. Guys are dense. Go up to him and say ‘Hey, boy, I want to do you tonight.’”

"Is that how you picked Randy up, Eve?" I teased.

"No way. He was even denser. I had to basically club him over the head and then drag him back to the car. Even then I had to climb onto him before he realized I was interested.”

"Hey, no," he protested. "I just wanted to be sure you were sure.”

"I couldn't have been a surer thing if you'd had paid for me." She shook her head in mock dismay. "But I took him against the car anyway."

"Against the car?" I was torn between being aghast and envious.

"If you haven't tried that position then I’m really sorry because up against the wall or door while he's between your knees, one leg slung over his shoulder is," she paused and shuddered, "un-friggin-believable.”

I stared at her and recalled the truncated promise Gray had given me. Just the memory made me shiver. "I believe you. I think I'm turned on just by hearing you describe it.”

"I know I am," said Randy.

"Can't wait for tonight, baby." She leaned over and cleaned his tonsils out. I watched them far too long to be polite. I realized then that I had been missing sex and more, real intimacy with another person. I missed what Eve had with her boyfriend, the right to have casual intimate contact. To hold hands with someone in public, to know that on all the important holidays someone was thinking of me. I’d missed it so much that I’d attacked a stranger in the hallway. Should I go after Gray and explain? Should I explore these feelings he’d roused? I thought I was immune to men and that my girl parts had shriveled because not one guy in the two years since Will died even warranted a second look let alone stirred sexual desire.

Eve must've seen my envious glance or felt my overlong stare because she broke it off and shooed her boyfriend away.

"It's been two years, why not give another guy a chance or at least just hook up? Get back in the game.”

I looked down at my left hand and the diamond winked backed at me. "I don't know how.”

“Go over to Adam’s house tomorrow. Maisey said he’s staying there for like six weeks. Or ask him over to your condo for coffee.”

“Coffee?”

“Or a movie.”

“What kind of coffee? And a movie? For someone I don’t know.” This sounded like terrible advice.

Randy snorted. “It’s never coffee.”

“What?”

“It’s never coffee. Or even a movie,” he elaborated. “You invite him over for anything and he’ll know you’re asking to have sex.”

“I thought you guys were dense and that I had to ask for things straight up.” Getting back into the dating pool was going to take a lot of effort. Probably more effort than I was interested in exerting. Yet…wouldn’t it be nice to leave the bar and crawl in bed next to someone? The ache I felt in my heart may not be soothed, but the ache in the body could be.

“Everyone knows that an invitation over to her place for anything after, say, eight at night, maybe even seven, is a booty invitation. And vice versa.” He shook his finger at me. “You should know this if you’re gonna start sleeping around.”

Thankfully Eve hit him so I didn’t have to. “What?” He held up his hands. “I thought we were just tossing out advice to the poor chick.”

“Don’t even,” she warned, “or you won’t get any of what I was talking about earlier.”

Randy sat back and motioned that he was zipping his lip.

I sighed. “It’s okay. I need all the advice I can get. I haven’t done this in, well, ever. I grew up with Will. I knew him better than I knew myself at times. This Gray guy, I only know he smells good.” And other stuff that I didn’t want to admit like how strong he was when he held me against the wall and how his rough calloused fingers on the bare skin of my thigh made me damp just at the memory.