by Aly Martinez
I stumbled back a step. “What?”
She smirked. “Chapter thirty-two in that woman’s book was entitled ‘Rita and the Fish.’ Apparently, Greg wasn’t the only one watching you two.”
My mouth fell open. “What. The. Hell? That bitch was the one who stole my fish?”
“Yep. But don’t worry. Tanner negotiated its release as part of the deal. She was also required to move back to California, submit to the DNA test before the birth of the baby, and agree to never contact him or you again.”
“Holy. Shit.”
“Call him, okay? Don’t move in with him. Don’t marry him. Don’t get pregnant with his child. Just take it slow and call him.”
“We suck at slow.”
She laughed and pulled me in for a hug that shocked me more than anything else she’d said. Yeah. Porter was definitely Charlotte’s light.
She released me and headed to the door, calling, “Slow-ish will be fine. By the way, he’s working at The Porterhouse tonight if you wanted to go see him.”
“He’s working there? Like, cooking?”
“Yep. Porter says he’s been there a lot recently.” She drummed her fingers on the doorjamb. “So, do I get to keep my number-one best friend position or what?”
I dug the alligator toe ring I’d had put on a necklace out of my shirt and brought it to my lips. “Yeah, and I decided to give you tenure too. So your job is secure for the foreseeable future.”
She grinned and then she was gone, leaving me standing in my living room, wondering if I had enough peas to make this right.
* * *
I was going to die. Pure exhaustion was like a drug, and as I drove home from the restaurant at a little past one in the morning, I was overdosing. When I cut the engine and hit the button to close my garage behind me, I didn’t immediately move. It seemed like entirely too much work to get out of the car, go inside, take a shower, and collapse into bed.
Maybe just a quick nap in the car would do the trick. I lolled my head back and allowed my lids to fall closed, my mind slowing to a halt almost immediately.
Somewhere between a second and a decade later, I was roused back to consciousness by the ding of my phone. I prayed that it wasn’t a problem locking up the restaurant because Porter would kill me if I left it open all night, but there was less than a zero percent chance I’d be able to make it back.
My body jolted, a surge of energy blasting through my veins, when I saw her name on the screen.
Rita: Are you going to sit in the car all night?
My head popped up and I looked to the door, but it was closed, no sign of Rita anywhere. My lips curled into a smile.
Me: I thought stalking was my job.
My stomach was in knots for the next two minutes as that text bubble played on the screen letting me know she was typing.
Rita: It was. Until I realized that, while our timing sucked, we did not. And I’m willing to exclusively wear your favorite yoga pants, including dry-humping you in them if that’s still your thing, and to make a million tuna noodle casseroles, with peas of course, and then get old and fat on your couch, holding your hand because I love you with every part of me, including parts that I hate and you will probably hate one day too. But if you’re willing to have me, I’m willing to make your life totally miserable.
I couldn’t breathe. It was as if all of the air in not only that car but the entire state of Georgia had vanished.
I read it three times, gave my nuts a painful tug to make sure I wasn’t actually asleep, then read it again.
And again.
And, fuck me, I read it again.
My thumbs hovered over the phone, but I had no idea how to reply.
Rita: P.S. I’m on the Ninja Warrior course if you’d like to start the misery tonight.
I was out of my car and racing around the side of my house in the very next beat.
God. I was such a damn sap. I didn’t give the first fuck.
There were spotlights surrounding the course. Porter had insisted we have them installed after the great midnight napkin debate. I’d never been so thankful in my life.
Her face was bright, shyly smiling back at me.
My future was suddenly brighter.
She was standing at the end, wearing my favorite yoga pants and a matching tank top, her hand nervously toying with a necklace that I hoped like hell was my alligator.
I glanced down at myself, feeling superiorly inadequate for the first time in possibly my entire life. My T-shirt was covered by no less than a hundred stains that had seeped through my chef’s jacket.
She was beautiful, and I looked—and probably smelled—like I hadn’t showered in a week.
“Any chance you can help me with something?” she yelled.
Anything as long as it means you’re staying. “Sure.”
“For the past few months, I’ve been trying to finish this damn Ninja Warrior course. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t get past the final obstacle.”
“It’s because you’re the size of a toddler.”
She glared and the pressure that had been mounting in my chest since the day I’d walked out of her house finally rushed from my body.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I said, strolling toward her. “That glare is why I fell in love.”
“Really? Not my ass?”
I swayed my head from side to side. “And your ass too.”
She smiled, but her chin quivered the closer I got. “I thought I had to do it on my own, Tanner. I thought that—”
“You were right. We needed some space.”
“We did?” she whispered.
Stopping in front of her, I snaked a single finger out to hook one of hers. “I paid Shana off.”
“I heard. Charlotte told me. Including the fish, which I’m not going to lie… The idea of her going into my house is a tad scary.”
“I agree. And I am so sorry about that. My life was a clusterfuck. I had no business dragging you into that until I got my shit sorted.”
“She stole my fish, but your attorneys handled my divorce. I’m pretty sure I dragged you into far worse.”
I kissed the palm of her hand before intertwining our fingers. “Your attorneys were cheaper though.”
She bit her bottom lip. “Yeah. Sorry about that. I wish I’d known. Trust me. Whatever she was going to publish about me was not three-million-dollars juicy.”
“Right? The skeletons in your closet can’t be that scandalous. You wouldn’t even discuss butt stuff with me.”
She slapped my chest. “So why’d you pay her, then?”
“The same reason you gave Greg the house and refused alimony. I got to the point where I didn’t care about the money or the principle of it anymore. I just wanted her gone so that I could move on with my life.”
“Three million dollars though? That’s highway robbery.”
“The relief I feel is worth billions.”
She looked down at her toes. “Out of curiosity. Do you…have billions?”
I smirked. “Nope. But what I do have is a stubborn pain-in-the-ass woman who has offered to make my life miserable. And I love her so fucking much that I’m dumb enough to volunteer for the job.”
Her head came up, surprise etched in her features. “Yeah?”
“We’ve got time, Rita. I’m not a patient man, and I’m not going to lie: I want a life with you. One day, I’m going to put a ring on your finger. And not long after that, I want to start filling bedrooms with green-eyed babies. But I want time with you first. I want to travel and—”
“Don’t say backpack through Europe.”
“Psh. You roughing it? I’m signing up for misery, not hell.”
She giggled and it hit me deep in a place that was only for Rita.
“Just because I fell in love with you in a matter of days rather than years doesn’t mean I suck at slow.” I tugged her into my arms. “I want to get to know you, especially these pieces of you that you hate, because I
guarantee I’m going to love them so hard.”
“I’m crazy,” she whispered.
I dipped for a lip touch. “We all are, and if you’re up for the challenge, so am I.”
Her face got soft. “You’re a sweet guy, Tanner.”
“I know.”
She beamed up at me. “Good to see some things never change.”
Unable to stop myself, I kissed her smiling mouth.
“Just to be clear,” I mumbled against her lips. “We still get to have sex in slow mode, right?”
“So so so much sex,” she whispered, her hand snaking down to my ass. I had no choice but to allow mine to follow suit.
I swallowed her moan as I pressed her against my thickening cock. “Let’s go in. I need a shower, and your new job description requires you to wash my back.”
She backed out of my hold. “No, wait. I need you to help me up the warped wall first.”
“Now?” I adjusted my erection.
“Now, Tanner.”
I let out a sigh and started toward the base of the curved ramp. “This was the misery you were talking about, huh?”
“Get used to it.”
Oh, I absolutely would.
She backed up several feet and got low. “Ready?”
I shrugged. “As I’ll ever be.”
She ran at a full sprint. Her foot landed on the bottom of the wood, her short legs taking three steps before she jumped, missing the ledge at the top by a mile. She came sliding back down. “What the hell! You were supposed to help!”
I laughed. “What do you want me to do? Throw you up to the top?”
“If that’s what it takes. Yes.”
Chuckling, I shook my head. “You need to lean back instead of forward. You’re trying to climb the wall. All you need to do is run up it. Watch.” With my exhaustion long since forgotten, I got a running start. Two steps up, I jumped, catching the lip. “See?” I dropped, sliding down rather than pulling myself up to the platform.
“I’ll bust my ass if I lean back.”
“You’ll never be able to scale that thing though. You need to run up it.”
“It’s really high though.”
“Fourteen feet to be exact.”
She glared.
I fell in love again.
“Look, it’s mental. You can’t be afraid of falling back down or you’ll never reach the top. You have to go after it with a hundred percent confidence.”
“Holy shit.” She stared up at it. “This wall really is symbolic of my life.”
I grinned. “Then I better get to the top.” I backed up, sprinted up, and this time climbed all the way to the platform.
“Tanner, wait—”
But it was too late. There was a blanket laid out near the back, two candles, wine glasses, and a white casserole dish in the middle.
The sap part of me stirred with emotion. “You made me a romantic dinner?”
She peered up at me. “It’s tuna noodle casserole. Which I’m not sure if you actually like or not, but at this point, it’s kinda our thing. So you’re going to have to choke it down for the rest of your life.”
I didn’t like it. Not even a little bit.
But I loved her.
So I could deal with the rest.
I nodded a million times.
“Move. I’m going to try it again. I used the stairs to set that up and it pissed me off, being up there without earning it. So we may be out here for a while.”
I’d have spent the rest of my life on that platform, waiting for her. And as I watched her fail repeatedly for over twenty minutes, I feared that was exactly what I was going to have to do.
“Yes!” I boomed when her hands finally caught the top of the wall.
“Oh my God!” she yelled, dangling in the air. “I got it! I got it!” She paused. “Shit, now what?” Panic edged her voice. “Oh, God, I can’t pull myself up, I’m going to fall. Shit. Tanner, I’m going to fall.”
I chuckled. “And this is why I was waiting at the top of the wall that symbolizes your life.” Grabbing both of her wrists, I dragged her to safety.
She was flat out on her back, panting and covered in sweat. Her hair was stuck to her face, her makeup smeared to hell and back. But she was mine. All fucking mine.
I sank down, pulling her into my side. “So, you want to get married or what?”
She slapped my chest. “God, how is it possible for you to be this bad at slow?”
“Okay, okay. Fine. So, what’s your stance on butt stuff?”
She burst into laughter, filling me in unimaginable ways, because I knew, slow or not, that her laugh was going to become the soundtrack of my life.
And I’d never been so ready to press play.
* * *
Five years later…
“Until next time, keep on simmering.” Tanner threw the towel over his shoulder and winked at the camera.
“And cut!” Andrea called. “Nice job, everyone.”
My husband’s grin fell, and his eyes came straight to me. “How ya holding up?”
I blew out a controlled breath and continued to pace a path through the downstairs of our house. I lifted my phone to face him, displaying the contraction timer. “Fifteen minutes, but they’re getting closer.”
He swallowed hard and forced a smile. He hated seeing me in pain, but when you were forty-one weeks pregnant, there was nothing but pain.
Turns out, Tanner was really freaking good at slow. We’d dated for eighteen months before he dropped to a knee. When he did finally propose, it was sweet and simple and not at all over the top.
Just kidding. It was pure Tanner Reese shenanigans.
He’d invited all of our friends and family over for a barbeque. It was quite the party, what with all of my one-named friends gaping at all of his two-named friends while trying to be discreet. They failed miserably. That was where simple and sweet ended.
The real shenanigans began with a guy from Florida he’d hired to bring in three alligators and walk them around on leashes. It was the craziest thing I’d ever seen. But that wasn’t even the most ridiculous thing Tanner did that day. He’d hired one of those skywriters that usually spelled out romantic phrases in the clouds. Only it didn’t write Marry Me. Oh, no. That would have been too cliché for Tanner. Instead, it wrote Winter is coming.
I giggled—until honest to God, half of the cast of Game of Thrones came marching out of the wood line in full costume, some of them even riding horses. When they finished their march, Jon Snow—Jon freaking Snow—handed Tanner the ring box. It didn’t surprise me in the least that Robb Stark was notably missing. So, finally, surrounded by our friends, family, three alligators, and the cast of our favorite television show, Tanner asked me to be his wife.
I said yes. Until he pointed out my name would be Rita Reese. Then I said no, because…Rita Reese? Really? He laughed, slid a monster of a rock on my finger, and then kissed me breathless.
When he was done, I said yes again.
We got married one year after that in a sweet and simple backyard ceremony.
Just kidding. It was pure Rita Hartley—soon-to-be Reese—shenanigans.
His pond and the surrounding areas were transformed into a majestic forest. Crystals hung from the trees, twinkling white lights were wrapped around the trunks, and blooming blue hydrangeas supplied a pop of color. There were no chairs or sides of the aisle, just dozens of white hammocks the guests swayed in as we exchanged our vows. When we were officially pronounced man and wife, the party moved to three giant tents adorned with more flowers, more crystals, and even more lights. I’d seen Tanner smile a lot over the years, but never as much as he had that night as we’d danced until the wee hours of the morning, matching bands on our ring fingers.
Another contraction hit me hard, stilling me mid-step. Tanner jogged over, and with his hands on my hips, he helped me balance. He breathed with me, whispering words of encouragement when my uterus finally released its death grip on me.
“No,” Tanner snapped.
“Honey, finish up. I don’t want you to have to work tomorrow if she gets here tonight.”
His body turned to stone. “Did you say she?”
Fuck.
I’d made it over twenty weeks without slipping up on the sex of our baby. He hadn’t wanted to know. I couldn’t not know. So he’d stepped out of the room while the ultrasound tech had given me the news. I’d cried, and Tanner had spent the afternoon talking himself in circles, trying to figure out if the tears were good because I was getting the daughter I wanted or bad because I was getting a boy that I also wanted, but not quite as much.
I went back to walking with hopes of evicting his daughter. “I didn’t say anything. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Ho. Lee. Shit. We’re having a girl. Oh my God, I’m going to have a daughter.”
“Wow,” Andrea smarted. “Congrats. I can’t think of a man less equipped to deal with raising a daughter than you.”
“Right?” Tanner replied.
“No, not right,” I called. “You’ll be great with a girl. You didn’t think you’d be good with a son before Jackson.”
“I’m still not sure I’m good with him. He cries when you leave the room.”
“It’s because I have boobs. I’ve seen you cry a few tears for the same reason.”
“This is true,” Tanner mumbled.
It took a few years of me working at the doctor’s office to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. Funny enough, it had been right in front of me the whole time. Every year when I’d been working for Greg, I’d spent nine months busting my tail to plan and execute the Spring Fling. We’d made thousands of dollars to donate to charity, all while giving back to our patients. And I’d loved every second of it. Yes, it was stressful, but it was also incredibly rewarding. The problem was: Charity was only lucrative to the soul, and having a healthy sense of self-worth didn’t pay the bills. It drove Tanner crazy that I continued to work after we’d gotten married, but I’d learned from my mistakes with Greg. I needed my own identity, so I wasn’t quitting until I was good and ready.