by Kennedy Fox
I shrug, not wanting to bring her mood down with mine. “I’ll tell you later.” Waving her off, I sit on the couch.
“Okay, you better.” Everleigh goes to the kitchen, then returns moments later with a huge bowl of fresh popcorn drizzled with butter. She hands it over to me, then grabs her fancy camera. Once we’re both settled and comfortable on the sofa, Everleigh scrolls through the photos.
“Oh my God, you took two thousand pictures?” I glance at her as she stuffs her face and nods.
“This is why I couldn’t decide!”
Shaking my head, I watch as she goes through them. “They’re all so good. If the boutique doesn’t work out, you should be a photographer.”
“Are you flirtin’ with me already?” She flips her hair.
“You wish.” I laugh. “Oh, I love this one of Katie where she’s looking off in the distance.”
Everleigh moves closer. “Yes, me too. She looks gorgeous. Every woman in a hundred-mile radius is gonna want this outfit. And look at you in that red skirt, you little sexy firecracker.” She waggles her brows.
“That is a good one,” a deep voice says from behind us, and every cell in my body comes alive.
Everleigh and I both jump as Tyler straightens up and chuckles. Everleigh grabs a pillow and tosses it at him but completely misses.
“I’m sad I wasn’t invited to the slumber party.” He smirks and walks into the kitchen. That’s when I notice he’s not wearing a shirt and see his joggers hanging off his hips. Immediately, I chug my wine, though the image of his ripped body and the way the muscles cascade down his back are now imprinted into my memory. Fuck.
“Well, you’re the one who didn’t want to look at two thousand pictures with me,” Everleigh counters. “You snooze, you lose.”
My mouth falls open. “So I was your third choice? I’m offended!”
She snorts and winks. “Third time’s the charm, baby.”
Tyler returns to the living room, sipping a beer. I avoid looking at him because I don’t think I’ll be able to pick my jaw off the floor before he notices.
“Welp,” he says. “I’ll leave you two hens to it.”
“Mm-hmm." Everleigh continues to scroll through the pictures.
When I look up, he’s staring at me with so much intent that I stop breathing. Tyler blinks, breaking our contact.
“Good night,” I say, but it comes out in a whisper.
“Night,” he says, then leaves the room, taking all the air with him. If Everleigh notices my reaction, she doesn’t say anything, and for that, I’m grateful.
“How about this one?” she asks, bringing me back to reality. It’s one of Katie and me laughing our asses off at something Everleigh said without a doubt.
“Yes, I love that one! It’s perfect and looks so natural. The only thing it’s missing is you in there with us.”
“I have the satisfaction of knowing this picture was taken when I was talking about butt stuff.”
Cabernet nearly shoots out of my nose, but I manage to choke it back down. “Jesus, give a girl some warning.”
“I can’t help that we’re like twelve-year-old boys when it comes to that.” She giggles.
“Oh, for sure.” I point out a few more that she should definitely use. By the time we get through half of them, she has a notebook page full of image numbers. Hanging out with her was just what I needed tonight.
“So, you gonna tell me what had your panties bunched in a big old knot when you showed up, or am I’m gonna have to beat it out of you?”
I roll my eyes and huff. I swear this glass of wine is never-ending because I need more alcohol in my system to discuss this. “Robert.”
She doesn’t make a face or react, but just listens to me as I explain my frustrations and insecurities. As I talk, Everleigh grabs an empty glass and the bottle, then returns to the couch. She refills mine and pours her some too.
“And I understand he wants me to be involved in his work, but you’re well aware of how I feel about a big crowd. Especially when they put me at the center of attention. I want to throw up.”
“You hate it. Always have.”
“Right! It makes me anxious, and I always have to answer the same questions over and over. It’s just, I dunno, it makes me feel weird—like I’m a prop in his business deals,” I admit.
“Like you’re playing a part.”
“Right, like an actress showing up to a movie set whose character is married to the rich and famous, living a glamorous lifestyle.”
Everleigh glances down at the big ass ring on my finger, then shrugs before sucking down half of her glass. “If the ring fits, though, right?”
Groaning, I lean my head against the couch. “I wanted a simple life with a husband and a couple of kids. Though I knew how important Robert’s career was before we got engaged, entertaining people has become an every week occurrence now.”
“He’s definitely driven. But aside from that, when’s the last time you two did it?” she blurts out.
I close my eyes, trying to remember, but it’s been too long. “Weeks. Fuck, maybe months. He’s been so busy with clients, contracts, golfing—and that doesn’t include my schedule. By the time we’re actually alone, we’re both exhausted. I know it’s stupid to think this, considering he’s the one who’s eager to have me live with him, but sometimes, I don’t feel like a priority to him.”
The realization has me burning from the inside out, and I feel smothered by my thoughts. The only thing that saves me from drowning is Everleigh placing her hand on mine.
“Gemma. Are you absolutely, without a doubt, positively sure you want to marry him? It’s not too late to change your mind. Everyone would understand.”
I pause, not sure how to respond. No one has really questioned me about our relationship, and everyone has been supportive. Even my dad is caught in Robert’s web.
“Well…” I swallow hard, trying to find my words.
“You’re hesitating.” She arches a brow.
“I don’t know.” I shrug, lowering my eyes as I hold back tears. “Things have been off between us, and maybe they have been for a while, but I’m just now seeing it. He’s pushy about me moving in with him, and since we don’t get to see each other much, he thinks living together will give us more quality time.”
“And what do you think? Will moving in with him change that? Or will he still be too exhausted to spend alone time like he claims? Do you see things getting better once you’re married, or will you feel stuck?”
I empty my glass, wishing the alcohol would hit my system faster. “I really don’t know.”
“Listen, I just want you to be happy. You’re my best friend, Gemma. I don’t doubt that you love him, but I don’t know if you’re in love with him or just the idea of it. Maybe you need a vacation because all the stress of the wedding is catching up to you. It happens!” Everleigh grabs the bottle and pours more into my glass.
But does it? Is this stress, or is there an underlying issue?
“I wouldn’t say no to a vacation,” I say, grinning. “Mimosas by the beach, suntanning, and the ocean breeze. Hell, let’s plan a girls’ trip. No boys allowed.” Especially no ex-lovers.
“Sign me up for that!” Everleigh gives me a high five. “Well, my best guess is that you’re just having wedding day nerves. What do you think?”
I shrug with a frown. “How can it be nerves when it’s so far away?” I don’t even have much to do since Robert hired a wedding planner.
“It’s still a huge fucking change. And it’s a forever contract. Hell, I’m nervous just thinking about it, and I’m the most eligible bachelorette in Lawton Ridge. I’ll probably be single with four dogs by the time I’m forty.”
Her exaggeration makes me snort. “No, there’s Old Lady Annette and her thirteen cats. Speaking of, where’s Sassy?”
Everleigh is full-on laughing, the kind that makes her nose scrunch. “Annette was promiscuous back in the day, though. I heard stories
of her breaking three different men’s hearts at once. Guess she realized she was too good for them. But if I ever get that many dogs, trust me when I say it’s a cry for help.” She gulps her wine. “Oh, Sassy’s sleeping on my bed. She was tired and put herself to bed.”
“Well, there’s no denying her name fits.” I chuckle, which feels good, considering the conversation we’re having.
“It sure does.” The room grows quiet except for the sound of Everleigh chewing popcorn.
“Robert met Tyler today,” I say. I don’t know what possesses me to even bring it up, but I need to get it off my chest.
Her eyebrow pops up, and she repositions herself with a smirk. “And?”
“And Robert asked if there had been anything between us in the past.”
“Oh, God.” She grins. “What’d you say?”
I bury my face in my hands and exhale, then look at her. “Well, I cut him off before he could fully ask, but I knew where he was going with it. So I didn’t technically lie, but I just didn’t tell him the truth.”
“Why not? Everyone has past relationships. He can’t get mad about that.”
“Because I think he’d be jealous and insecure about us working together. How fucking stupid is that, though? I mean, come on…” I turn my hand around, show her the ring, and she grins.
“That’s hilarious.”
I tilt my head at her. “No! It was awkward.”
“Well, maybe it’s time to come clean about your previous relationships. It’s not like he didn’t date a decade before you were even legal.”
I roll my eyes. “He’s not that old.”
“At least men get better looking with age while women have to put on under eye cream and slather ourselves in lotion to look young. Hell, if Leonardo DiCaprio showed up at my door, I’d give him the time of his life, and nothing would be off-limits. I’d let him draw me like a French girl any day of the year.” She releases a dreamy sigh, and I laugh at her Titanic reference.
“Point taken.”
“At least tell me the sex is mind-blowing. Like if he’s the best you’ve ever had, I’ll forgive his old man traditional values.”
I think about it. Sadly, I barely remember the last time we had sex.
Her mouth falls open when I take too long to respond.
“If it was monumental, you would’ve immediately answered with a fat, cheesy grin.” She frowns. “It’s mediocre at best, isn’t it?”
Heat meets my cheeks, and I hate the pitiful look she gives me. “I seriously can’t get anything past you, can I?”
“Are you kiddin’ me? We used to exchange diaries, remember? I especially loved your middle school entries about my brother.” She giggles.
“That was your idea!” I remind her, blushing at the memory.
“Yeah, and I learned a lot about you that summer. And you learned a lot about me too.”
I nod as I remember reading about how much she missed having her mother in her life. We connected, and it’s a bond that’s never been broken.
“Well, I’m not sure what to say, but sorry. You’re too young to be compromising hot as fuck sex. You deserve someone who’s not so vanilla—some hair-pulling, ass-smacking, throat-squeezing sex—Neapolitan would be more your style.”
“Jesus.” I chuckle at her descriptive version, but she’s not wrong. That sounds hot as hell. “You’re right. But I’m pretty vanilla too.”
“Maybe you are, but at least you have sprinkles. If a man offered to tie you up or handcuff you to the headboard, you wouldn’t say no. Amiright?”
She lifts an eyebrow at me, and I smirk.
“Regardless, it’s not that I’m some relationship expert or anything because you know how many men are knocking on my door.” She holds up her hand showing a big fat zero with her fingers. “But if the work lunches and dinners are too much, you should tell him, along with the other concerns you have. Honesty is the best policy. Unless it’s about dick size. You don’t want to inflate their ego.”
I snort. “You’re right, but I feel guilty telling him I don’t want to go to these client outings. Like I’m not being supportive, especially when he calls me his lucky charm. He gets so excited when he closes a deal with me there.”
Everleigh finishes her wine. “Welp, seems like you’ve got some decisions to make, my friend.” Her words are sincere, and there’s so much truth in them that it nearly slices me to the bone.
“I do,” I agree softly.
For the next hour, we go through the rest of the pictures, and Everleigh’s list to post nearly doubles. But at least we narrowed it down to the top fifty.
“Looks like I have enough for the next couple of months, too.” I’m so proud of her for making her dreams come true. When we were teenagers, there were no local clothing stores for women under sixty, so she made it her mission to have a store for women of all ages and sizes.
After my buzz has worn off and the yawning begins, I decide to go home. I’m going to be exhausted at work tomorrow, but it’ll be totally worth it. Tonight was just what I needed.
On the way back to the cottage, I can’t stop thinking about our conversation. She made so many valid points. Robert and I do need to talk, but where do I even start? I hate confrontation, and the last thing I want is to hurt his feelings. Things have always been simple between us, and I thought I was okay with that, but I’m starting to realize I may have just accepted that without considering what I truly want.
I want a person who’s as obsessed with me as I am him.
Someone who craves alone time together.
A man who listens and understands my needs just the way I do for them.
As I walk through the door, I kick off my shoes, strip out of my clothes, and take a quick shower. After I’m clean, I slip on a T-shirt and panties, then climb into bed.
When I close my eyes, I expect to see Robert, but I don’t.
I see a shirtless Tyler and fall asleep with him on my mind.
Chapter Nine
TYLER
Though I’d like to say working around Gemma is getting easier, it would be a lie straight from the pits of hell. I’ve tried my best to keep our conversations short and stay out of the lobby as much as possible. Sometimes when I’m grabbing water or in the break room, I hear her humming with the radio. In the past, I’d tease her about it, but after I left, it was one thing I missed the most. Perhaps I should wear earbuds to drown it out before it completely fucks with my head how much I enjoy hearing it again.
Helping Jerry in the shop the past week has been enjoyable. He works his ass off to make an honest living, and at times, he runs circles around me. More than once, he’s shown his gratitude for my help, but it’s nothing compared to how I feel for him giving me this chance. We’re no longer on a trial basis because I’ve arrived before Gemma each day and haven’t fucked off on my phone once. It’s a steady, secure income—something I never had in Vegas. Sure, I’d trained people, but sometimes, my clients would quit or move. I lived that hustle life, doing what I could to make ends meet. I loved living in the city, enjoyed the desert air, and had no intention of ever coming back. But here I am.
People have a simpler way of living here. There aren’t bars on every corner, gangs that run the streets, or robberies happening every day. The biggest gamble people take here is buying out of season fruit at the grocery store. Not that I’m complaining about my new simple life, but I wonder how long I’ll last before craving my old reckless lifestyle.
Though I’ve been at work for eight hours already, it feels like I just walked in. There’s always something more to do and no time to be idle, so the days pass by quickly. My mind stays busy with tasks instead of thoughts. Too often when I’m alone, I replay everything that happened with Victoria. It’s at those times when the urge for revenge runs through me like poison, and I want her to pay for what she did. I want her to know what it was like to spend five years in prison. Drugs and weapons are not my forte. Even though I didn’t have a record, mo
ney can buy anything when the court system is corrupt as fuck. I admit, I have a chip on my shoulder, and I’m not sure anything can repair it.
After I clock out, my gaze drifts to Gemma. She notices, and her lips fall open to say something, but then her dad walks in. Instead of sticking around for a potentially awkward conversation, I head out.
Needing to blow off some pent-up aggression, I quickly walk home, change into workout clothes, and then go to the gym. It still smells the same as it did when I was a teen because getting buff to impress the ladies at school was the thing to do. Now, as I look around at all the kids in here, I laugh at the memory.
Old carpet covers the floors, and the walls have wood paneling. It’s looked this way over the past few decades. Sam, the owner, is getting older and moving a lot slower. He’s here every morning at five to open the doors, and then his granddaughter closes at nine p.m. I wonder what his plans are with the place when he decides to retire. I’d love to eventually be in a position to buy it, but that might be a pipe dream.
A few meat heads are lifting weights in front of the mirror. I hold back my laughter and walk to the area for kickboxing. Grabbing a set of gloves, I put them on, then pound my fists together.
I feel alive the moment I put them on, then take my frustrations out on the bags in fifteen-minute sprints. I punch and swing as hard as I fucking can, then I switch positions to stay light on my feet. It’s a relief to just let it out of my system and burn off the extra energy after working. Every once in a while, I throw in a few kicks, ducking and imagining Victoria’s sneer on the other side. It doesn’t take long before I’m exhausted, but I don’t stop until I’ve worked out for a full hour. Even though I’m completely worn down, I feel more calm with a sense of clarity.
As I head home, the sun hangs lazily in the sky over the old buildings in the town square. The warm breeze brushes against my sweaty skin, cooling me down even quicker. When I walk inside the house, Sassy sprints toward me, wagging her tail, so I quickly take her outside. We’ve been taking regular walks, and she can’t seem to get enough of me now. I bend down and pet her before grabbing some clothes and jumping in the shower. The stream falls over my body, and I think about my life. It feels like I’m living in an alternate universe. When my skin prunes, I get out and put on some joggers and a T-shirt, then place a frozen lasagna in the oven. It’ll take an hour, but Everleigh will be home by then, so it works out perfectly.