by Lexi Blake
The last month had been rough. Macon had helped put together the new menus, started teaching his assistants and the woman who would take lead at the Fort Worth Top, and was working on a cookbook. All in all, he was busy and seemed happy.
The trouble was his damn phone. He was getting texts from a woman named Holly and he’d never once mentioned her to Ally.
Was she losing her husband?
“What should I say?” She turned to Tiff. The blonde was stunning, her every curve showed off even in the professional uniforms they wore as servers at Top. Ally was worried her own black slacks and pressed white dress shirt were getting a little tight. It was one of the problems the wife of a pastry chef faced. He was always asking her to taste the amazing confections he made. “I’m trying to figure out how I would even start that conversation. ‘Hey, babe, I’ve been staring at your phone while you’re in the shower. How’s the mistress?’”
Tiffany’s clear blue eyes rolled. “No, silly. First, you need to decide how the rest of this marriage is going to go.”
She became deeply aware that they weren’t alone. Javier was checking on the prime rib they were serving that night, his eyes on the dish in front of him, but his ears were really good. The kitchen was a hotbed of gossip, which was odd since it was mostly made up of veterans who looked like they could be out defending the country. Men were just as gossip prone as women, and the Top staff proved it.
She eased toward the back door, Tiffany following her.
Macon straightened up and stretched his back. That man made the chef jacket look so hot. He turned carefully. All of Macon’s movements were made with a careful grace. He’d lost the majority of his right leg in combat. Sometimes she wondered if she could have handled the man when he’d had two legs and no scars. The man was too hot to handle as he was.
And sweet and strong. He was everything she could have hoped for in a man.
He glanced her way and his face turned grim. “Hey, baby. You still okay with staying late tonight?”
She’d let him drive her to work, though she wasn’t scheduled to close. “Sure. I don’t mind at all.”
“Good, because I was hoping we could have a talk.”
That sent her stomach into a deep dive. Macon had kind of avoided any serious talk for weeks. What did he want to talk about and why now? She gave him a smile she didn’t feel. “Of course, babe.”
He nodded and turned back to his work.
She opened the back door and stepped outside, taking a long breath of the night air. Her chest felt tight.
“Hey, you can’t honestly think this is serious.” Tiffany closed the door behind them. “Look, sweetie, this Holly girl could be anyone. You know he’s working on a section of that cookbook for Sean. Wasn’t the editor on that named Holly?”
“Heidi,” she corrected. “Her name is Heidi and she actually tends to text me because I’m the one he’s dictating the recipes to. He has me type everything up for him so I handle her. Holly’s different.”
“Okay,” Tiffany said quietly, her tone calm as though she was handling her with care. “What does this woman say in her texts? Or is she sending pictures? Have you looked on the camera of his phone to see if he’s had photo sessions with his dick?”
“What? Why on earth would he do that?”
“I always forget you’re not a big tabloid reader. Dick pics. They’re a big thing right now. I get two or three a week.”
Tiffany led an interesting life. “Do I want to know why your male friends send you pictures of their male parts?”
Tiffany bit her bottom lip and winced a bit. “They’re so not my friends. I might have an ex who’s a total jerk. He basically wrote my name on the bathroom wall of the Internet and this is what I get. I’ve taken to replying with critiques. I might start a website. You know, you can tell a lot about a guy from his penis. I’m pretty sure one of them has a skin disease. I advised him to see a doctor.”
“I’m sure he thanked you for that.”
Tiffany shook her head. “You would think so but he was quite an ass about it.”
One of these days, that girl was going to get herself in serious trouble. “I still don’t see why Macon would do that. He’s barely started to wear shorts, much less show off his junk.”
He looked hot in a pair of basketball shorts and a tank top, but in the beginning he’d been sensitive about his C-Leg. Long nights in bed with her worshipping his body seemed to have convinced him that he was a hottie, but she found it hard to believe that he was sending some woman a picture of his dick.
And honestly, she might cut off said dick if he was sending pictures out. That dick was hers. She’d earned it and had the certificate of ownership to prove it. She’d been the one to convince that man how beautiful he was, and she was going to be damned if he then took all that confidence she’d given him and used it to get another woman.
But it was so hard to believe that Macon would cheat on her. That was the real problem she was having. Her husband was practically Captain America, he was so squeaky clean. Oh, sure, he liked to smack her ass from time to time, but that was all agreed upon fun.
He wouldn’t cheat on her, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have feelings for someone else. He would be honorable. He would sit her down and talk to her before he would ever touch another woman. He would break things off in as honorable a way as he could.
“I don’t honestly think he would,” Tiffany was saying. She hopped up on the picnic table Chef had installed to make it easier to take breaks outside of the building. There was a small fence around the area that cordoned the space off from the alley. “I think you’re being a wee bit paranoid, but I’m your friend so I’ve got to indulge your crazy.”
“I’m not crazy. He’s gotten at least ten texts from her.” She knew. She’d counted every single one.
“And what did they say?”
“I don’t know.”
Tiffany stared at her for a moment. “You don’t know.”
She shrugged. “How would I know?”
Tiffany shook her head like she was trying to clear it. “You are actually telling me you’ve made the decision that Macon is cheating on you and you haven’t read the texts? You’re telling me this Holly person could be nothing more than a big old spammer since you don’t know what has truly been written.”
“Uhm, I’m not some crazy person,” she shot back. “I’m not going to read his texts.”
Tiffany groaned. “There is something so wrong with you. Okay. So remember what I was saying about you have to decide what kind of marriage you want?”
She wanted the kind that lasted forever. “Yes.”
“Do you want to be the chick who questions her husband every time he talks to another woman? Or do you want to be the chill wife who trusts her husband and when she finds out he’s been texting some other woman, she sits down and asks him what’s going on?”
“Isn’t that the same thing? I’m still questioning his loyalty.” She hated this. She hated being vulnerable like this, especially when Macon had never once made her feel that way since they’d gotten married. It had only been lately, and she knew she was part of the problem. She’d been taking a heavier load at school and studying hard. She’d skipped two nights they could have gone on dates because she’d had tests. It was hard. They both worked weekends and she went to school during the week, so there wasn’t a ton of time to spend together.
“It all depends on how you go about it. Look, I’ve dated a lot of guys,” Tiffany said. “And I know how to deal with any number of relationship dilemmas. So I can tell you there is a difference between running at your dude with tears and a loaded .45, and sitting him down and calmly explaining that you’re worried he’s pulling away from you.”
Tiff had lived an interesting life. “I wouldn’t pull a gun on him.”
“Then you obviously haven’t dated Austin Habina,” she replied primly. “He deserved it, and honestly, the gun wasn’t loaded, but it still made him pee hi
s pants. Having watched a grown man cry and pee himself, I think you want to go the other way. You have to talk to him. You have to be open and honest, and it won’t hurt that you haven’t invaded his privacy.”
“I love him. I don’t want to distrust him.” She sighed. “I don’t distrust him. I don’t think he’s cheating on me, but that doesn’t mean there’s not distance between us. I’ve been so focused on school. Maybe he feels neglected.”
Tiffany frowned her way. “Because you’re trying to better yourself? Look, we can all feel neglected at times, but I don’t think that would cause him to look at another woman. Talk to him. The truth of the matter is people change over time. My dad explained that to me. He said the hardest thing about a marriage is growing together and not apart. Make that choice. You feel him growing and changing? Talk to him. Find a way to grow with him. You don’t have to make a decision between him and you. If he loves you, he wants you to find the best you there is. He’s finding the best Macon. He’s doing everything he can to learn more and be better at a job he’s passionate about. You’re both working for the future.”
Yet they felt a bit stuck. They were still living in his brother Adam’s guesthouse. She loved Adam, Jake, and Serena and their little boy, Tristan. She adored the new baby. Brianna. She was so tiny and cute, but Ally wanted space that was hers and Macon’s. She wanted to start building their own home. They weren’t ready for babies, but they were ready to have their own place.
Emotionally ready. Not so much financially.
“I love him so much.” Everything she did was for the betterment of them as a couple, as a family. Eventually she wanted to have that man’s babies and that meant building a strong foundation. It meant preparing for the future.
One day he would want his own bakery and he was horrible at the business stuff. He just wanted to makes cakes and tarts and perfect his croissant recipe. She had to run things for him.
For them.
“I know you love him, but you’re afraid to talk to him. You have some serious abandonment issues and, sweetie, it’s time to get over them. The only way you lose that man is to push him away.”
That was the last thing she wanted to do. Macon and the whole Dean-Miles family had become her family. She’d spent so many years without, being the girl no one wanted. Then she’d found her foster mother and brother. When they’d died she thought her hopes for being part of a real family did, too. Until she’d met him.
If she lost him, what would she do?
“I hate that I feel this way. I’m supposed to be stronger than this.”
Tiffany hopped off the table and Ally found herself wrapped up in a hug. “Oh, sweetie, we all feel this way from time to time. It’s because you’re human and in love. Anyone who says they don’t is either lying or a really sad human being who can’t admit they’re lying. Talk to him and you’ll feel better. If something is wrong, you work on it. Nothing so good as a marriage happens without work.”
She held on to her friend and promised herself that she and Macon could work out anything.
Seven hours later she sat at a table, looking down at her accounting book, but not really able to see the words in front of her. The night had gone by in a blur of work and she’d been grateful for it. They’d dealt with one angry asshole who didn’t have a reservation but thought his cash should buy him the best table in the house. He’d tried to bully the hostess and suddenly decided to find someplace else to eat when confronted with Chef and three other former military men. She seriously loved it when the guys dealt with jerks. Other than that one incident, it had been smooth but rapid sailing.
Now she was waiting for Macon to finish his prep for tomorrow so they could have the talk.
“You sure you don’t want to come out with us? We’re heading to Deep Ellum. Well, all of us except Sebastian. Beer is far too low for his elevated palate,” Tiffany said with an affected snobbish accent.
Sebastian was the sommelier and a nice man. He and Macon had become friends. He was quite friendly with Ally, but he did seem to stiffen up around Tiffany. “I’m sure he’s got another reason. You know you should give him a break. He’s really a cool guy.”
“Cool? Try arctic,” Tiffany replied with a frown. “He doesn’t like me. Not that it matters, but damn it, I’m adorable. Everyone likes me. It’s annoying. But he doesn’t matter. Soon he’ll be over at Fort Worth Top and I won’t have to endure his cool stares for a while. So I’ll see you tomorrow? Because you could change your mind and come drinking with us. I’ve got a bet with Julie that Javier will get slapped at least once tonight. If I win, she’s got to close for me next week.”
It was a good bet Javi would both get slapped at some point and potentially laid. It was a fifty-fifty bet, and sometimes both happened the same night and sometimes with the same chick. It was always fun when he got slapped and then laid.
“Sorry, I need to do this.”
Tiffany put a hand on her shoulder, giving it a sympathetic squeeze. “I know. Call me if you need to. I’ll be there for you.”
She nodded. It was good to have friends, but tonight all she needed was her husband’s strong arms around her. She needed to be alone with Macon and get serious about making it plain that she missed him and they needed to work harder to spend more time together.
It felt like she spent all her time at school or work or driving to school or work. Traffic was so bad around Dallas, and they lived fifteen miles north of downtown, where they worked and she went to school. Sometimes it felt like she spent hours on the freeway when she should be cuddled up with him.
She watched as Tiffany left with the last of the cleanup crew. They’d all changed and were heading out to party. They’d spent the day making gourmet food and serving the finest wine, and now they would down beer and wings. It was the way of their world.
It had been fun once, but now she wanted a party of two.
“You’re a braver man than I,” she heard a deep voice say.
Sebastian was still here. She thought he’d gone. She would know that slow Georgia accent anywhere.
“Well, it might be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”
She went still. With the restaurant quiet, she could hear them talking in the kitchen. It was faint, but she could hear the words fairly clearly. Macon had been the one to do the stupid thing. Or rather he was planning on doing a stupid thing.
Her hand fisted around the pen she was holding as they continued.
Sebastian chuckled. “Well, you do what you have to to be happy. But do you really want to go with an unknown quantity?”
“I know exactly what I want. Holly and I have gone over this a million times. I’ve told her everything I need and she’s sure, too. So this is happening. It’s going to be okay. Ally’s going to understand.”
Ally was so not going to understand. Ally was starting to get emotional. He and Holly had gone over it a million times?
She took a deep breath and tried to be logical. Could Holly be some kind of a personal shopper? Maybe Macon had bought her a birthday gift. Five months early.
“Yeah, well, I’ve never been married,” Sebastian admitted. “I suppose you know better than I, but I would have at least given my wife some warning. This is serious. Women take it incredibly serious. They tend to have opinions, and strong ones at that. I wish you luck, man. If she kicks you out, you can always call me. I’ve got a bottle of Scotch I’ve been waiting to open.”
“Well, if she kicks me out, now I’ve got a place to go, don’t I?” Macon chuckled, the sound normally pleasant.
The door opened and Sebastian stepped out. He looked over and shook his head. “Good evening, Ally. Try not to kill him. He does mean well.”
Oh, no. She was going to be the psycho chick. She could see it clearly now. No reasoning for her. She was going to be the woman the cops had to pull off some other woman.
Macon stepped out.
Ally heard the front door close as Sebastian left. The main lights went out and M
acon fished around in his pocket for the key.
“You ready?” he asked, holding a take-out bag.
“Who’s Holly?” That was good. Fairly non-judgemental, with only a hint of “I’m going to cut a bitch.”
There was no way to mistake how pale her husband went. She actually watched him decide what to do. It was like she could see the mix of ideas swirling around in his brain. He seemed to come to some conclusion and then nodded her way. “Holly who?”
Wrong fucking conclusion. She slapped her book closed. “The Holly who texts you five times a day. The Holly whom I believe you step out of the room to talk to.”
He winced. “Oh, that Holly. So you know about that. Guess I wasn’t as sneaky as I thought I was.”
She stood up and shoved the books into her bag. She couldn’t do this with him right now. It didn’t make any sense. He wouldn’t do this to her. He wouldn’t stand there with that half grin on his face and lightly tell her their marriage was over.
He wouldn’t. Ever.
Ally stopped. She was allowing her past to inform her future. She expected the people who loved her to go away. Somewhere deep inside she’d known the gorgeous man in front of her was going to wake up one day and realize she was the trashy girl no one wanted.
That was the old Ally talking and she didn’t want to be that girl anymore. Macon loved her. She made the decision Tiffany had been talking about. What was her marriage going to be like? He’d never once done a single thing to make her doubt him. Whatever this thing was he was doing with this Holly person wasn’t what she thought. It couldn’t be.
“Babe, can you talk? Because your facial expression has changed like fifteen times in the last thirty seconds and it’s scaring the hell out of me.” Macon was staring at her like she’d grown two heads and a set of fangs he was pretty sure she was going to use on him.
She leashed her inner psycho chick. Faith. She needed a little of it. Faith in him. Faith in the fact that she’d chosen correctly. “I’m sorry. It’s been a rough day and I’m not going to take it out on you. You got a few texts from someone I don’t know. I didn’t read them. They were on your screen while you were in the shower or working in the kitchen and I saw them. I got jealous and I’m sorry.”
