by Becky Wade
If Tawny had the bravery to admit that she loved Ty, then maybe Celia should have the grace to give Tawny’s pursuit of Ty her blessing. A “may the best woman win” sort of agreement. Celia opened her mouth to say something along those lines. What came out was “Ty is my husband.”
Tawny’s posture stiffened. Her eyes began to narrow.
Celia dropped her hands to her sides and felt her fingers curl in. Weeks of pent-up emotion and confusion over Ty mounted inside her like lava. She couldn’t help this ridiculous compulsion she had to protect Ty—from himself, from Tawny. “Ty’s gorgeous, and he can make your tummy flip with a smile and give you goose bumps with a look. Yes, he can. And so while I understand, very clearly, why you’d love him, I feel compelled to tell you that you can’t have him.”
“Have you lost your mind?”
“Have you? Why else would you chase after a married man?”
“You two are barely married.”
“But we are married.”
“And for your information, I’m not the one chasing after him. Ty’s been chasing me. For years.”
“Well, not any longer!”
“No? Then how come I was kissing him,” Tawny spoke with slow and articulate venom, “just last night?”
A blistering, unbearably painful silence fell. Tawny’s words, their meaning, the mental image of Ty and Tawny together, sliced through Celia’s brain, her heart. She took two steps backward. Kissing. Last night. She set her palm against the cool glass of the bakery display case and groped for balance. Staring at the floor, she willed herself not to pass out or cry or say anything more in front of Tawny.
“Celia?” Tawny asked, tentative. “I’m really sorry I said that.”
Celia couldn’t respond. With everything she had, she willed Tawny to leave. Right when she sincerely thought she might lose it, she heard the clicking of Tawny’s shoes as she walked away. The closing of the door.
The forgiveness Celia had been working to extend to Ty reeled in on itself like a tape measure. And like a tape measure, it snapped closed. She’d known it. She’d known all along that he would do this to her, but like a fool she’d lowered her defenses anyway, and now they were smashed and lying like broken sticks in a circle around her. Worthless.
Oh, Lord. Oh, God. Again. You wanted me to forgive him! And now he’s chosen Tawny over me.
Again.
By the time Ty arrived at Cream or Sugar, Celia’s stomach had twisted into what felt like a pretzel. Her eyes had gone as moist as Death Valley. Her hands had turned cold and shaky.
If she’d had her way, she’d have locked herself in the pantry and cried buckets after Tawny left. But she was an employee. The bakery’s customers didn’t know about the devastating information Tawny had handed her. They came in for baked goods and coffee just like they always did.
She was ringing up a line of customers three deep when she saw Ty park his Harley. He pulled off his helmet, exposing rumpled bronze hair. Aviator sunglasses.
When he entered, he greeted the people in line, and they all greeted him back warmly. She could feel his gaze seeking hers, but she studiously focused on counting out change.
“Are you Ty Porter?” a child asked. The red-haired boy looked to be just shy of Addie’s age.
“Yeah,” Ty answered. “I am.”
The boy’s face went soft with awe.
“He’s a bull-riding fan,” his mom said to Ty, settling a hand on the boy’s head.
“Good for you.” Ty smiled down at the kid. “Who do you root for?”
“You. I mean, I did. Is your leg hurt really bad?”
“Not anymore.”
“You going to ride again?”
“No, I’m not.”
The boy frowned, his eyes enormous with sadness.
Ty clasped him on the shoulder. “I had a long career. I’m still going to go to some of the events and talk on TV about how the other riders are doing.”
The kid nodded. “You were real good. The best I ever seen.”
“Thank you.”
“Can I have your autograph?”
“If you want it.”
“He collects them,” his mom added.
Ty set aside his sunglasses and helmet.
One customer left, and Celia served the other and then the boy’s mom while Ty handed over his signature and chatted with the boy.
Celia couldn’t believe she was about to break up with someone that young children idolized and asked for autographs. She wished Ty wasn’t famous, wished he was one of those boring, dependable types who never gave their wives a moment’s worry and weren’t attractive enough to garner the attention of gorgeous brunettes.
No. She didn’t wish all that. She wished Ty was exactly who he was, only trustworthy.
As soon as the mother and son left, Celia went to the front door and taped the handwritten Be back in just a minute! sign she’d prepared to the inset window. Deftly, she turned the lock.
“I’m liking the looks of this,” Ty stated.
“Mind coming with me for a minute?”
“I never thought I’d see the day when the rule follower broke a rule and closed the shop during business hours.”
“Coming or not?”
“Definitely coming.”
She led him up the stairs.
“Now I’m really liking the looks of this.”
She continued along the hallway to Donetta and Jerry’s office, the most private room in the place. With a flick, she turned on the lights. Two metal desks formed an L shape. The space would have been ugly, except for the incongruously exquisite old rectangular windows that framed views of the town square.
Celia crossed her arms.
The sight of Ty’s lopsided smile, so full of tenderness, affected her like a dagger. “We can’t kiss anymore,” she said.
He went still, concern etching a line between his brows.
“And I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to work here anymore, either.”
A few beats went by. “Excuse me?” His voice had gone raspy and dangerous.
Her chest tightened.
“Say whatever it is you need to say to me, Celia. Plainly.”
“When we started kissing, I didn’t ask where our relationship was going. I didn’t ask for a future. I only asked for one thing. I asked you not to kiss anyone else while you were kissing me.”
“And?”
“And Tawny came by earlier. She told me that the two of you kissed last night.”
Instant fury filled his face. “Is that all she said? That we kissed?”
“Yes.”
“She didn’t say that she was the one that kissed me?”
She’d expected him to have a quick retort, would have been surprised if he hadn’t.
“I pulled away after two seconds,” he said, “and told her that the chance for a relationship between us was over. Did she tell you that?”
“No.”
“That’s what happened.” The room’s stark fluorescent light hid nothing, not a single detail of him. She could see the faint scars on his face, the piercing blue of his eyes, the taut lines of his torso beneath his T-shirt. “Do you believe me?”
Since her confrontation with Tawny, she’d had time to think everything through multiple times. If a friend of hers had come to her with this scenario—a boyfriend who’d kissed someone, then blamed it on the other woman—Celia would have advised her friend to treat the boyfriend with the highest level of distrust. Red flags cropped up during the beginnings of doomed relationships. Celia believed this, believed that women had to heed those flags if they wanted to escape intact.
“Celia?” he asked, tense. “I need for you to believe me.”
“Trust is something that takes a long time to rebuild—”
“I would have given you all the time you needed. But this thing with Tawny has happened, and I need for you to believe me now.”
She still had a dash of intelligence left in her brain. She still ha
d a desire to protect herself. Most important, she had a child. She couldn’t afford to be gullible. “Look, I don’t even want to know what happened between you and Tawny last night. It doesn’t matter—”
“It matters a lot to me.”
“This fling between us—”
“Fling?”
“—has been fun, but I can’t do it anymore. I’m going to end it before it goes any further or gets more confusing.”
“I am not confused.” Fierce certainty radiated from him.
“For Addie’s sake, we’ll return to being friends.”
He made a slashing motion with his hand. “I don’t want to be your friend. I have plenty of friends. Everyone in this town is my friend.” Visibly, he struggled to hang on to his composure. “You can’t tell me you want nothing more from me than friendship.”
“I want nothing more from you—“
“No,” he answered immediately. “That’s not true.”
She refused to lose her cool, to let emotion overtake her. Even if it killed her, she could not show him how much she’d let herself care about him and how much he’d hurt her—again.
They looked at each other with raw and difficult honesty.
“I love you,” he said.
Her heartbeat thumped. He’d never said those words to her before.
“I love you.” His eyes glittered blue. “And I want our marriage to be a real marriage. I want to be married to you all my life. You. Only you.”
She considered running away—out of the building, as far and as fast as she could go, to flee from her razor-sharp longing for him. “You can talk the talk,” she said haltingly. “You really can.” He’d even talked her into marrying him once. She’d regretted it for years afterward. In her weakness, she’d wanted to let him persuade her then, just like she wanted to let him persuade her now. “You say all the right things. And maybe you even mean most of what you say. But think about it. A real marriage between us? Husband and wife? You can’t be faithful to me for a lifetime.”
“I swear to you that I can.”
“I don’t—” Her voice broke. She drew herself up. “I don’t trust you not to break my heart again, and I can’t risk it. I can’t risk Addie having to live through that. I’m not the one for you, Ty.” It physically pained her to speak the words. “There are so many women who’d jump at the chance to date you—”
“How can you say that to me?” Color rose on his cheekbones.
Now she’d done it. She’d pushed him too far.
“I don’t want to date other women.”
She tried to swallow. Couldn’t. “We can co-parent Addie—”
“I don’t want to co-parent! I want to marry you, but I’m an idiot because you won’t give me a chance. And you’re a coward because you want some kind of guarantee when all I can give you is my word. Life doesn’t come with guarantees, Celia. Neither do relationships or marriages. Bad things happen.”
“I’d rather avoid the bad things that I can see coming.”
“I’m standing right in front of you, and you can’t see anything at all.”
She felt frozen inside. Stricken. “Ty . . .”
“Sometimes you just have to have faith, Celia. When Tawny kissed me, I stopped it immediately. She’s not the one I want. I love you and I want to be married to you. Trust. Me.”
“I did,” she said. “Once. And once was enough.”
He held her gaze for a searing second, then stalked from the room.
Celia remained rooted to the spot, self-righteous in her certainty that she’d done the right thing. And so happy about it that she covered her eyes with her palms and wept.
Ty was not a man given to anger. But Celia had made him angry. Wildly angry.
He drove his truck out of town in search of open space. One turn onto a remote country road that went nowhere led him to another road to another. His pulse beat his veins. A headache pounded his skull.
He couldn’t believe that Tawny had screwed him over by telling Celia about that kiss. Why would she have done that? And why hadn’t Celia believed him when he’d told her the truth? If Celia would have listened to him and trusted him, he could have rescued the situation.
But no. She’d go to the grave before she’d trust him. She’d rather be unhappy. She’d rather he be unhappy. She’d rather do anything than take a chance on trusting him.
He couldn’t defend himself against the past because he had made a huge mistake in Vegas. He’d admitted it to her and apologized. He wasn’t a perfect man, and he’d even agree that she could do better than him.
On the other hand, he wasn’t the same man he’d been in Vegas.
Whenever Celia started acting like he was, it made him crazy. He had no way to prove her wrong. How could he prove her wrong unless she let him prove it?
He raked his hair back with an unsteady hand.
He couldn’t have her. She’d told him so in every possible way since the day they’d had lunch in Oregon—
His phone buzzed. A text.
Are you still able to pick up Addie from school today?
He almost threw the phone out the window. Should he curse her every which way to sundown for expecting him to pick Addie up today? Or should he curse her for expecting him not to, like some deadbeat dad too selfish to remember his responsibilities to his child?
He held his body rigid against the rage rising inside him. Drove. Checked the time. Threw the truck into park and typed a message back to her.
I’ll pick her up from school like I always do. I’m trustworthy.
Once Ty got Addie back to Celia’s house and gave her the food Celia had set out—what kid wanted to eat an organic rice cake and a banana as an after-school snack?—they went into her room just like they always did so she could give him princess lessons.
She started in on a story about Rapunzel.
It took him a while to register it when the room went silent. He’d been staring at the wall, stewing. He looked to Addie and took in the sight of her thin frame and sweet face.
“What’s the matter, Daddy?”
“Nothing. I just zoned out for a second. Sorry about that. Go on.”
“I’m still hungry,” she whined.
“Okay, let’s go get you something else to eat.” They went to the kitchen, and he gave her at least five food options and three drink options.
She kept wrinkling her nose and shaking her head and saying, “I don’t want that. Is there anything else?”
Addie usually behaved like a prize student for Ty. Today she complained nonstop. Nothing would please her. As time passed, Ty’s patience stretched tighter and tighter.
When he heard Celia let herself into the house, he pushed to his feet, hiding a wince when pain ran up his injured leg. “Addie, I have a lot of stuff I need to do today. Your mom’s here, so I’m going to take off.”
“But—”
“I’ll see you tomorrow after school.” He and Addie walked into the hallway and came face to face with Celia.
She immediately turned her attention to Addie. “Hi!” she said, pretending to be the most cheerful person alive.
“Good day at work?” he asked, making a stab at friendliness in front of Addie.
“Mmm hmm.” She avoided looking at him.
Blind, stubborn woman! She was so wrong. And also so beautiful it made his gut churn. He desperately wanted her . . . everything about her and everything she represented.
“What have you all been up to?” Celia asked Addie.
“I ate my snack, but it tasted yucky.”
Ty said nothing. An ice cream sundae would have tasted yucky to Addie today.
“Then we played in my room,” Addie said.
“Great!”
Addie looked back and forth between the two of them.
“Well. Thanks for bringing Addie home.” Celia’s gaze stopped on his face for a moment, then crossed by. “I appreciate it.”
“Yep.” He kissed Addie and left.
“What’s the matter with you and Daddy?” he heard Addie ask Celia as he walked away.
He drove straight to a bar called Deep in the Heart. It smelled like beer, peanuts, and cigarettes. Most of the lighting came from the neon signs on the walls. He ordered a shot. After he’d thrown it back, he clunked down his glass. Despair shifted through him. He ordered another.
Music filled the interior of Deep in the Heart, but it couldn’t touch the darkness in his head. People spoke to him: the bartender, locals he knew, a stranger or two. He said the expected things. Felt no better. Ordered more shots.
No telling how much time had passed when Bo sat on the bar stool next to him. “I heard you were here.”
Ty wanted to tell him off. His older brother. If he’d been more like Bo, Celia would have loved him back. Honorable Bo, who always said and did the right things. Always had, since they were kids. Bo’d been the one helping his father with the horses; Ty had been the one jumping off a cliff into shallow water.
Now Bo had what he deserved: a wife he loved and a home and a career. And Ty had what he deserved: nothing.
He wished Jake had come. Jake was at least as screwed up as he was.
When the room started tilting, Ty swore viciously.
Bo didn’t lecture. He just waited until Ty was finally forced to make a choice between the lesser of two evils: leave the bar or vomit. Ty picked leave. Bo helped Ty into his truck, drove him home, and got him settled in his horrible dark house.
Ty lay alone on his bed with his wrist covering his eyes, feeling like he wanted to puke, his head spinning like he was on a carousel.
He hated his house. Why was it so quiet? Why was it so brown?
Why didn’t Celia live here with him?
Celia. He squeezed shut his eyes as bitter pain whipped him.
Hours later, Ty slid his eyes open. The only light came from the open doorway to his master bathroom. His ears picked up no sound.
He pushed to sitting and wheezed. It all came back to him, the physical misery of his hangover plus all the things Celia had said to him. The fact that she couldn’t trust him.
He hissed every piece of profanity he knew as he limped into the bathroom.
