The Widow's Harem

Jocelyn

I stared back at the reflection in the mirror, gazing at the beautiful woman I saw looking back at me. My hair was pulled into a tight ponytail at the top of my head, long locks of natural blond hair curled just right hanging around my shoulders. A few strands were strategically pulled out, framing my face. My sky-blue eyes seemed more lively tonight than they had been recently. I had put more care into my make-up and could see the instant difference it made. Gone was the stone-faced businesswoman. In her place stood the shadow of the woman I once was before I became a widow. A woman who was once carefree and knew exactly what she wanted out of life. A woman who never once had to worry about the security of her future.

That was until tragedy struck.

Gone was the vivacious woman, replaced by someone who had to upend everything she knew amidst the heartbreak she faced, and had to learn how to swim in a man's world she knew next to nothing about and took over her late husband's business.

Honestly, I couldn't believe Caleb's accident had happened only a year and a half ago. So much had happened. So many changes had to be made. It felt like several years had passed by since his untimely departure.

My phone vibrated. I picked it up and read the message from Vincent: You're not chickening out on me are you?

Even though I could hear the teasing note in the text, I still sighed heavily, trying my best to keep the anxiousness at bay. I set my phone down and stared back at my reflection.

Yes, I was honestly debating on chickening out on him tonight.

I couldn't believe I had taken him up on his offer yesterday when he sprang it on me before leaving work. The damn man! He knew exactly how to catch me off guard. Not to mention, he had been doing it here more recently. It was maddening!

Ok. Maybe that was a bit of a stretch. It had been a long time since I had flirted with anyone or been remotely interested in someone else in that way. I was just out of practice and feeling insecure. Both things of which I had felt--amongst other things--when taking over my husband's business. I had overcome some major obstacles and maneuvered several hurdles in the industry. This was child's play in comparison, I assured myself squaring my shoulders.

It wasn't in good faith to back out of something I had already committed myself to.

I could do this.

It wasn't really a date, I assured myself. Vincent had invited me to a party he was throwing for some of his military buddies--and their partners--since they were back from their deployment. Vince told me it was going to be a potluck BBQ kind of event. It wasn't a big dress-up event. It was going to be outside in his backyard--in late February--in SoCal. It was a beautiful day. He was hosting it in the early evening. The pair of jeans I had on, with a tight-fitting white plain tee tucked in and the dark green knitted sweater over it was appropriate. The only apparel Vince had suggested to wear were boots, since it had rained recently and there was a decent amount of mud in his backyard.

Taking one last look at myself, I grabbed my purse and made a bee-line for the front door. I didn't give myself any opportunities to argue myself out of going.

Tucking the purse away under the passenger's seat--because I didn't want to take the obstructive thing inside with me, or give anyone the opportunity to steal something if I left it unattended for too long--I made my way to Vincent's. As I started walking up his driveway, he appeared on the porch, a shit eating grin on his face. My heart fluttered and butterflies curled through my stomach as a fiery passion--ones I thought had been buried with my husband--arose.

Interesting, I mused to myself.

I had known Vincent a long time. He had been Caleb's childhood friend. The three of us had grown up together once Caleb and I met, and started dating, back in high school. There was a time I had a childish crush on Vince, but it had never turned in to anything or gone anywhere. Even once I became a widow.

That was until today.

I wasn't sure what had changed.

Perhaps it was meeting somewhere else other than work? Because, at work, I was only ever focused on business. I never allowed myself to dwell on things that weren't important for the company.

As I approached, my steps slowed and I could feel the blush creeping up my face as I took in the sight of him. He was a few years older than I was. Late twenties. He was just shy of six feet tall, was an ex-marine, worked out, and sported some tattoos. His dark brown hair was short with a faded undercut. He'd used gel to style it up. Something I hadn't noticed him do before. It looked so good on him. He had trimmed his beard short and had taken some time to style it too. A dark earthy button-down complimented his darker brown eyes, and I was ensnared by the way he looked at me.

How had I not noticed how absolutely perfect this man was before?

God! I had been blinded by grief and survival, I had nearly missed my opportunity with this man.

"Hi Jo," he greeted warmly, pulling me into a familiar hug. This wasn't unusual, per-se. This had been a common occurrence back in high school and before Vince had joined the military. The last time I could remember being hugged by him, like this, was at my wedding. I melted into him, not realizing just how much I'd needed it until this very moment. "I'm glad you didn't convince yourself not to come."

"I almost did," I confessed.

His silent expression told me he knew. "Everyone's in the back. And just so you are warned, they are all a few drinks in and brawling in the mud pit."

I rolled my eyes, not in the least bit surprised by this. After growing up around Caleb and his football buddies, nothing really shocked me. It was just boy's being boy's.

Vince and I made small talk as he led me to where the food and drinks were. I grabbed a plate as he made me a mixed drink before heading back to find a spot to watch the show unfold. From the sounds of it alone, it seemed entertaining enough, and I had this feeling I would enjoy the show.

"Are they all friend's of yours?" I asked after a few minutes passed. There wasn't a spoken rule when it came to the mud brawling. More of just who could pin the other down first.

"Mostly," he shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. "From my time in the marines. Or they are friends of friends." Which made sense. I glanced around at everyone and smiled. There was a lot of comradery and good ol' sportsmanship mixed into the competitiveness. Almost every man in the area was covered in mud. Women cheered on their men. It was fun. "You look beautiful tonight," he complimented on a gentler note. I could hear it in his tone and in the look he gave that it wasn't just what I was wearing. It was in my eyes, the way I was actually present tonight and not withdrawn.

"Thank you," I grinned gently, bumping my shoulder into his. "Why aren't you in the thick of it? Proving your manliness and all?" I teased.

"Well, I figured if I got all muddy, it would decrease my chances of a goodnight kiss from you," he winked, trying to cover the nervousness that suddenly arose behind his usual teasing nature.

I was a bit shocked by his forwardness, yet at the same time it had an age-old heat curling through my stomach. "You know, I'm not afraid of a little mud." He should have already known this! He had been on the same football team as Caleb and had watched me, the top cheerleader and prom queen, practically tackle Caleb to the ground after he'd won the championship. It had been raining and everyone was damn near covered in mud and grass. I hadn't cared then, and it hadn't changed now.

There was a sparkle in Vincent's eyes. Before he could reply, someone called out to him. "Hey, Vinny!" It was the latest winner of the mud scuffle. He was abnormally tall and brutish looking. Like a Scottish Highlander with his wide-set shoulders, his long dark-red wild hair pulled back into a ponytail at the base of his neck. His bright green eyes were in contrast to the mud smearing his face. His chest was bare and the tats across his torso were on full display. He was definitely a tall drink of water. "Stop being a f*cken prude and get your ass over here!"

Vincent rolled his eyes and then went lunging at the guy. A small, short scuffle later had Vince the loser and the others cheering on Tristan, the red-headed Scott. As Vince made his way back over to me, covered from head to toe in mud, I could hear Tristan jeering as he stepped closer for a kiss.

"He doesn't deserve that kind of prize!" Tristan sneered.

"You're just jealous you only have your hand for company," Vince threw over his shoulder and the yard erupted in laughter.

Tristan ignored Vince and turned his eyes to me. "If that's what he gets, shorty, what do I get?" He waggled his eyebrows and made some lewd gestures.

"Leave it alone, Tris," Vince growled over his shoulder.

Maybe he would have left it alone, but I couldn't. Something took hold of me, some of the spark and vigor I used to have. Stepping past Vince, I addressed Tristan. "I'll make you a deal." I started, pulling off my sweater. "If you win, you can go the full mile," I bartered, feeling alive for the first time in a long time. I knew Vince had to be shocked by my sudden offer, especially if the look on Tristan's face was any indication that my sudden decision had taken him by surprise. Though, Tristan did recover fairly quickly.

"And if you win?" He growled in a deeper undercurrent as I approached him in the mud pit.

Squaring my shoulders I told him, "If I win, you have to kneel before me and yell out for everyone to hear that I am a superstar." I knew it was ridiculous, but I wanted to ruffle that cocky damn exterior of his. He needed to be taken down a damn peg or two.

"That's never going to happen, shorty."

"What? The first part? Yes, you're right," I smirked, not intimidated in the least.

"Bring it on, shorty."