by Aly Martinez
Her name on my notification screen made my heart stop.
Rita: Oh. My. God.
Rita: Are you insane?
Rita: Tanner? Answer me.
Rita: Call me as soon as possible. I’m freaking out over here like Brad Pitt at the end of Seven.
According to the time stamp, the messages had come back to back over three hours earlier. I hadn’t checked my phone while I was at the restaurant. It wasn’t like I’d expected to get a message from her.
Rita: Are you ignoring me?
Rita: Callllllll me!
Rita: Jesus. Stop pretending you have a life and call me already.
It was a string of shouty, bossy texts, but it made the ache in my chest ease for the first time in over a week. She was reaching out to me. Why, I didn’t know, but I didn’t care, either.
She answered on the third ring. “I’m glad I hadn’t been kidnapped and stuffed in someone’s trunk when I sent you those messages.”
Her voice. I’d missed it so damn much.
Such. A. Sap.
“I’m glad to hear that too. I don’t have the energy for a search and rescue mission tonight.”
The line went silent.
“Rita?”
“Before I say anything else, I want you to know that, when you didn’t answer my text, I downed a bottle of wine. I cannot be held responsible for anything I say during this conversation. Okay?”
I chuckled. “Fair enough.”
“Okay, now that we’ve got the disclaimer out of the way, I’ve missed hearing your voice.”
I blew out a ragged sigh. “I just thought the same damn thing.”
“Have you been drinking too?”
“No. I just got home, actually.”
“Home? It’s after midnight… Oh. Shit. Were you out with someone?”
“Nope. I’m still wallowing over the last woman I lost. You?”
She got quiet again before saying, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you that. It’s none of my business. You’re a free man.”
It was a rusty knife to the gut. “I’m not a free man, Rita. I’m your man. Whether we’re ready for it or not doesn’t change the fact that I’m in love with you. So you can go ahead and assume that, for the next fifteen years, I won’t be out with someone.”
“What happens at fifteen years and one day?”
“I get sick of waiting and kidnap you and stuff you in my trunk, taking us right back to where this conversation started.”
She giggled and it made me smile. Fuck, that felt good.
“Are you as miserable as I am?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Does your chest feel like you survived a plane crash only to be hit by a bus?”
“Wow. You are pathetic,” she teased. “But you forgot being run over by a train. That seems to be my personal trifecta of misery.”
Shit. I had to get off the phone with her. Fast. Because I was less than one minute away from begging her to let me come over.
I’d have given anything to lie in bed, holding her and bullshitting for the rest of the night—and possibly the rest of my life. But no. We were “finding ourselves.” Whatever the fuck that meant.
“Listen, I don’t mean to be short. But it’s late…” And I miss you so fucking much that it’s killing me. “Did you need something earlier?”
“Oh, right. Yeah. I was outside tonight, packing up my hammock, and found a bat.”
I twisted my lips. “Was it dead or alive?”
“It was purple with gold-sequined wings.” She paused before finishing. “And it was beside a black velvet ring box.”
I smiled and looked down at the bed. I’d been wondering if she’d found that yet. I’d torn out of there so fast our last night together that I hadn’t given it a second thought.
I’d assumed she’d find it when she cleaned up the broken glass.
Then I’d felt like a dick for not cleaning up the broken glass.
Then I’d called a company to go clean up the broken glass.
Then I’d decided that sending a six-man industrial cleaning crew to her house wasn’t space and hung up.
“Yeah. Sorry about that. It was supposed to be a fish because I know Greg stole yours but I was stuck at work and had Andrea—”
“You want me to give it to Charlotte to give to Porter?”
My chin snapped to the side. “Why would you give it to Porter?”
“I can’t keep it, Tanner. I’m not even sure what you were thinking. But given our current…situation, I figured you might want it back.”
Pure confusion crinkled my brow. “The bat?”
“No, not the bat. Though I don’t understand that at all. But he’s cute, so I’ll keep him. I’m talking about the ring.”
I sighed. “You don’t like it?”
“I haven’t even looked at it. I only touched it long enough to bring it inside. It’s been staring at me all night from across the room. Hence the bottle of wine.”
“So open it, crazy.”
“Oh, I’m the crazy one? You bought an engagement ring, like, a month after you met me. Seriously, you are the worst slow and casual dater in the world. How many ex-wives do you currently have?”
If I’d been drinking something, that would have been the moment it went spraying across the room. “I didn’t buy you an engagement ring!”
“You didn’t?” Her voice squeaked at the end.
“Christ, Rita. We haven’t even discussed butt stuff yet and you think I’d propose?”
“Okayyyy, we are never discussing butt stuff, and it was a freaking black velvet ring box! What was I supposed to think?”
“You weren’t supposed to think. You were supposed to open it and look at it.”
“Damn. Now, I feel like an idiot. Is it earrings? I considered it was earrings.”
I settled deeper into the pillows and smiled. I was supposed to be getting off the phone with her because talking to her was agonizing. However, I was always a glutton for punishment when it came to that woman, so I pressed the FaceTime button instead.
She accepted right away. “Right, because obviously you need the visual to go with my verbal mortification.”
My heart stopped when she came into view.
She was sitting on her couch, just as beautiful as the day I’d first laid eyes on her. Green eyes. Creamy, white skin. Plump lips.
But her hair—it was brown.
“Holy. Shit,” I breathed.
She sifted her fingers through the top of her hair, shoving it over to one side like I’d seen her do so many times before. “Yeah, I decided to try something different at the salon this time.”
I nodded with wide eyes. “I can see this.”
“What do you think?”
I thought it was hideous. I hated it with a fiery passion, and I wanted my blonde back.
But I fucking loved her, and I knew she was doing this to try to discover who she was outside of Greg. And a step away from him no matter how wrong it may be was a step closer to her coming back to me.
“You are the sexiest woman I have ever seen.”
“Don’t get used to it. I hate it.”
I slapped a hand over my chest and rushed out, “Oh, thank you God.”
A bright white smile split her face. “Judging by that reaction, you’ll also be happy to know that I spent a few hours last night on an app that lets you try different hairstyles. And I hated every single one of them.”
I nodded, not knowing what to say to that but feeling like I’d won the lottery. She was two steps closer to being back to me.
“What else have you been doing?”
She bit her bottom lip and looked away from the camera. “Oh, nothing really. Just having a staring competition with a ring box which turns out is actually an earring box.”
“No. It’s definitely a ring box.”
Her head snapped back to me.
“Just not an engagement ring box. Open it.”
The camera jostled as she retrieved it, then
settled back on the couch. “I’m nervous.”
“Why? If it was anything dangerous, it would have croaked in the last eight days.”
Her eyes got wide. “Shit. Was it alive?”
“Open the damn box, Rita.”
She chewed on her bottom lip as she popped the top open. A smile climbed up her face. “Oh. My. God.” She burst into laughter.
My chest overflowed with happiness as she lifted that tiny toe ring from the box. It was a white-gold band and had a tiny alligator made from emeralds the color of her eyes on top.
“What do you think?”
“Why are you so weird?”
“Did Greg get you diamond earrings?”
Her laughter died. “Tanner.”
“What about a tennis bracelet? Pearls? Engraved locket?”
“Oh, honey,” she breathed.
“I love you. I wanted to get you something and I figured Greg had already stolen all the good jewelry gifts. So, like I promised you on our first date, I got creative.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “I love it. So so so much.”
I grinned. “Yeah? You gonna wear it?”
She shook her head. “No. Nobody’s worn a toe ring since the nineties. But I’m going to have the back soldered closed and put it on a necklace and never take it off.”
I stared at her, that hollow ache once again finding me.
And she stared back, unmistakable love shining in her eyes.
It burned like the hottest knife, knowing it was there but knowing I couldn’t have her.
“I need you to hurry up,” I whispered. “Please, Rita.”
She smiled, a tear sliding down her cheek. “I’m trying. I promise. I’m trying.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
She clutched the ridiculous toe ring to her chest. “Actually, would you mind if I came a couple mornings a week and ran your Ninja Warrior course? I know it’s a lot to ask but—”
The idea of seeing her again was like jumper cables to my nervous system. “Of course I don’t mind. I’d love to—”
“I won’t bother you. I promise. I’ll just slip in and slip out. You won’t even know I’ve been there.”
My disappointment was staggering. Dammit. Bother me, woman!
“I’ve been trying to go back and take a good look at all of my failures. And, well, I fell on my ass pretty hard that day.”
“You also got the best orgasm of your entire life a few minutes later. So I’m not sure I’d consider that a failure.”
“The best orgasm of my entire life, huh?” She twisted her lips to the side.
A laugh sprang from my throat, but I really just wanted to kiss that expression off her sexy little mouth—and then keep her forever.
But telling her that wasn’t going to get her back any faster.
“Whatever you need, Rita. If you feel like stopping by the house, I’ll make you breakfast.”
“You’re sweet, honey. But I think I need to do this on my own.”
Fuck.
“Okay. Then…I guess…”
“I’ll see ya when I see ya?”
Shoot me. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll see ya when I see ya.”
“Thanks for the toe ring.”
I love you. I miss you. Come over. “You’re welcome.”
“Bye, Tanner.”
“Bye, Rita.”
* * *
Every morning for the next six weeks, I took stalking Rita Hartley to a new level as I stood at the window of my guestroom, sipping coffee and secretly cheering her on. We’d only spoken once after that night she’d found her toe ring, but every morning around six, she was on my Ninja Warrior course. She’d sold her BMW SUV, which honestly surprised me because it was the only thing she’d wanted in her divorce. Now, she drove a little red Jetta that was so perfect for her it made me smile every time she pulled up.
I wasn’t positive why she was spending so much time on that course, but her determination was inspiring. She fell more times than I could count, but she always got up, tried again, and usually fell again too.
She cried the day she made it through the wall tunnel. On her knees, violent sobs shaking her shoulders, and it wrecked me to helplessly watch her breakdown.
But she’d asked for space.
A few days after that, I lost her behind the trees. The suspense was killing me. I’d hired at least ten different tree services to cut them down but canceled them all.
She wanted to do this alone. I wasn’t happy about it, but there wasn’t much I was happy about during those weeks.
The judge denied our last attempt at preventing Shana from publishing the book.
Simmering Love—yes, that was the damn title—was set for a summer release, just two weeks after Shana’s child was due. I assumed after the DNA test came back she’d need another source of income besides my wallet. But make no mistake, she was still very much making a living at my expense.
Surprisingly enough, when I finally faced the kick in the balls head on and went to the president of The Food Channel, he didn’t seem too concerned about Shana’s book. I believe his exact words were, “Do you think there’s a man in this building who hasn’t snorted coke off a hooker’s tits?”
I was standing there, so there was at least one.
He didn’t fire me. Or even give me shit. He simply gave me the card to the network’s PR firm and told me to have them put their heads together with my team to spin this in a positive light.
I wasn’t sure how that was possible. But I still had a job when I walked out of his office. A job I hated and dreamed about quitting on a daily basis, but a job nonetheless.
I continued spending several nights a week in the kitchen at one of the restaurants. Getting back to the basics was amazing for my mental health. I did my best thinking over a frying pan. Which was good because, even outside of Rita, there was a whole hell of a lot of shit I needed to think about.
Porter’s life once again imploded, and to top it off, his son’s health was declining so rapidly that it had my whole family paralyzed with fear.
My mom cried all the time. My dad was losing his mind, pacing and cursing at all hours of the night. And for the first time in my entire life, I was the one to pick up the pieces of my family.
At the end of those six weeks, things were far from over for the Reese family. But the sun was starting to show on the horizon, leaving me nothing but more time to think about the one who had gotten away. Well, almost gotten away.
She was currently drenched in sweat and walking toward her car in my driveway.
It was a Saturday. She didn’t have to work, and neither did I. We could have spent the whole day together chatting and catching up. Friends. We could be friends, right?
I was sick and tired of watching her walk away every day, knowing she was so close and still unreachable. My hands ached to hold her, but I’d have happily settled for a conversation.
Finally, on a warm morning early in June, I broke.
“Rita!” I shouted, jogging through my front door.
She stopped with her back toward me but didn’t turn around when she yelled, “Yeah?”
“Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Her shoulders did a slow rise toward her ears before dropping back down. “About what?”
“Um, about the fact that I’m about to cook breakfast for two and I’m only one person.”
Her hair, which was thankfully blond again, swished when she shook her head. “Not today, Tanner.”
“Tomorrow?”
She shook her head again. “Not tomorrow, either.”
“Okay, so what about the next day, then? Really, I’m free for the entire month. Just pick a date. Any date.”
Suddenly, she spun around to face me. Her eyes were red rimmed, but she was wholly pissed off. “No dates, Tanner! And at this rate, maybe never again.”
My back shot straight. “What do you mean never again? It hasn’t been fifteen years yet. And if it has, you need to
get your sweaty ass in the trunk of my car.”
She shook her head. “We should both probably go ahead and accept that this is over. I can’t do it anymore.”
“Do what?” I snapped, walking toward her.
“This!” she yelled, her voice echoing off the brick driveway.
I stopped short of reaching her, my stomach twisting into a knot. “What are you talking about?”
She chewed on her bottom lip. “I can’t get up the warped wall.”
It made me an asshole, but I smiled. “You got all the way to the end?”
“Yeah, like two weeks ago, and I can’t get up the fucking warped wall.” She sucked in a shaky breath and then burst into tears. “And I don’t want to be a doctor. And I like high heels and dresses. And I love yoga and even Pilates too. I like getting monthly facials and pedicures, even if they are expensive, and I should probably be saving for retirement. And, and, and…do you have any fucking idea how many calories are in bacon?”
“Uhhh,” I drawled, buying a second to find the string that would tie all of that randomness together. I came up empty-handed. “Come here, Rita.”
“No.” She threw her arms out to the sides. “I’m still the same person. It’s been almost two months and nothing has changed.”
“Good!” I replied, closing the distance between us. I pulled her in for a hug, which might have done more for me than it did for her. “I never wanted you to change.”
Her arms remained at her sides. “I’m tired, Tanner. I’m so damn tired.”
“So come inside and lay down with me. We’ll take a nap.”
She stepped out of my hold. And then two more steps back until she was out of my reach altogether. “No, because I’m going to leave as soon as we wake up. Do you understand that? Maybe I’ll leave for another two months. Maybe it really will be fifteen years. I have no idea how long this is going to take me. But you deserve better than that. And I’m not sure I can ever be better than that.”
The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. “What’s happening right now? I mean, seriously, what the fuck is happening right now? I just wanted to see if you’d have breakfast with me. That’s all.”
“I see you watching me,” she whispered like it was a secret. “When I get here. When I’m running the course. And you stand there even when you can’t see me through the trees, because you’re still there when I give up for the day.”