17. Tyler
SEVENTEEN
TYLER
It’s everything I thought being a dad would be like. A dad with a partner, that is.
I dig through my duffel to find the full bottle of Tums I threw in there for good measure.
I pop two and grind them up, waiting for the relief to kick in.
I knew this whole experience would bring on my reflux.
Darcy’s lasagna alone was enough to set off a rousing round of heartburn, but it was worth it.
A family meal where CJ wasn’t mentioned once, probably because it wasn’t with my family.
I should have asked more questions of Maggie and Darcy, but I was too busy being overwhelmed.
They were probably only being nice because Becca told them to, and I can’t unpack what that might mean.
My heartburn took full effect looking at Ellie falling asleep while holding Becca’s hand.
We have to live in the same place if we want people to believe we’re in love. Becca and I can fudge it by flirting and joking around, but not my daughter.
Ellie is fully falling for Becca. And who could blame her?
Becca is magical to her. All the reasons she called her a fairy princess might actually be true: animals love her, she has that certain cool-girl charm and who-gives-a-damn attitude, and she makes every person she comes into contact with feel special.
Unless they cross her, but that’s a different story.
I’m terrified of what comes next. If Ellie loves Becca, it’s on me to make sure she can stay in Becca’s life.
It’s on me to make this work, because I can’t bear to think of taking anyone else from Ellie.
I just want her to be okay, and I’m so scared that being okay hinges on this arrangement succeeding.
I think of all the emotions that have bubbled up in the last week, the greatest of which is dusting off that old feeling that I want Becca.
I want her attention on me and only me if it’s romantic.
With the way I’ve treated her in the last few years, I’m lucky she even talks to me.
The only reason I even saw her again was because fate had enough of me avoidng her and shoved us back together.
And under all my hope is this dark cloud, the memory of what she said to CJ that sent her into a spiral.
Can I forgive that? It’s hard to negotiate the person Becca is today with the things she did that made CJ leave.
I want to be able to forgive it, but I’ve spent three years resenting Becca. Old habits die hard.
Ellie’s happiness depends on my forgiveness, or at least for me to try. The fear of failing her is crippling.
Soft porcelain clanks come from downstairs where Becca’s washing the dinner dishes. I should go help and at least acknowledge what she did for Ellie. I steel myself with a hand on the doorknob before turning it and heading to find her.
She looks over her shoulder from the sink with a quiet “hey.”
“Hey. Thank you for that. She’s totally out.”
Becca nods. “Glad to hear it.”
I lean a hip against the counter where she works, picking up a dish towel. “Need a hand?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
I sneak glances at her as I dry a plate. “You’ll be okay without your dog tonight?”
She hesitates, nibbling her lip before cracking a tired smile. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. T-Bone might still get up to find me, but maybe not if she’s comfy.”
I set the first plate on the counter and pick up the next, running the towel over it. My mind wanders to Becca’s usual sleeping arrangement. “Does T-Bone stay with you when you have people over?”
Becca smirks. “What people?”
“You know. Partners.”
She shakes her head and laughs, picking up a scrubber to get at the corners of the lasagna pan. “Dwelling on what I do in bed?”
“No. I mean, yeah. Sorta. I just—” I know my impulse control is down right now and I’m probably going to say something I shouldn’t. “If you’re going to have people over, I’d rather Ellie not know about it.”
The look Becca gives me tells me she’s about to yank my chain.
“I thought you said we had to be faithful. Is this one of those classic cheater strategies? Deflect that the other person is cheating when it’s actually you?
You don’t even have a rock on my hand and you’re already plotting how you can have a guest over. ”
“No! I have no plans, but I don’t know if you’re doing something else . . . privately.”
Her tongue pokes into her cheek. “You want to know what I do to get off?”
“No, god!” I scrunch my eyes shut like that’ll prevent me from hearing whatever she was about to dump on me.
I can’t know about what Becca gets into in the bedroom or I’ll be tearing down her door like a starved animal outside the meat locker.
Three-plus years without sex is a long time.
“I just want you to keep it quiet if you do end up doing that.”
She turns off the water and shakes her hands over the sink before snatching the dish towel from me to dry her hands. “Why, are you planning to sneak someone in?”
“No, of course not!”
“Good. Neither am I.” She tosses the towel back at me and turns to grab another set of dirty dishes.
I can barely breathe. I have no right to control Becca’s sex life, but we do have a secret to keep. It seems ludicrous that she’d really agree to all this. “You’re giving up all of that for me?”
“That is the idea of marriage, Tyler,” she deadpans. “Just one person for the rest of your life.”
This is all so hard to believe. “Even if I’m not going to fuck you?”
“Jeez, rub it in,” she grumbles, turning toward the opposite counter where a notepad sits and picking up a purple glitter pen.
I rub my forehead, because I’m obviously upsetting her. “It’s just a lot to give up. You’re really going to stop having sex for my shop?”
She tosses her pen down and sighs. “And that sweet little girl upstairs. And my farm, Tyler. You forget that I’m trying to get this damn farm off the ground and not have to run around like a chicken with my head cut off every damn day.”
Becca is twenty-five years old and giving up prime years on the prowl for this. I’m used to living like a monk, but per her reputation, she is not. “Then when are we getting divorced?”
She widens her eyes. “Ye of little faith. Sheesh. Haven’t even taken me to the altar yet and you’re already planning to ditch me.”
“It’s a fair question! We both need to be free to do what we want when it’s done. The more we agree on now, the less likely we are to fight about it later.”
Becca is quiet, writing “Tuesday” at the top of her notepad and underlining it a bunch of times. I almost think she’s totally tuned me out when she speaks. “It’s done when we pay off the loan.”
“That could be years,” I point out.
She flops the pen down again and narrows her eyes at me.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you think the bank would believe us suddenly dating, getting married, getting a loan, and splitting up two weeks later?
I don’t think so. I know this is a sacrifice.
It is for both of us. We’ll just have to suck it up and make the best of it. ”
I laugh but there’s certainly no humor to be had here. “The best of it. The best of it would be not having my back against a wall in the first place.”
She huffs. “Last I checked, we don’t live in Fantasyland. We are where we are. The best we can do is work the system to our advantage. Now, when are you proposing to me? Let’s get our story straight.”
Her chest is flushed and she won’t meet my eyes. I’m not trying to hurt her, but I am trying to make sense of it all.
“We can’t just hard launch an engagement, right? No one will buy it.”
Becca waves a hand through the air. “Yeah, so line dancing night Wednesday, a whirlwind romance, then boom, proposal.”
A waft of her pretty, flowery scent hits my nose and I resist the urge to step closer and get a better whiff. “When, next week?”
“I think we have to go on a date this week, don’t you?” she asks.
“This is your territory. You’re the good liar.”
She squints at me. “I’m going to pretend that’s a compliment so I don’t tweak your ear right off your head.
” She reaches up to pinch the offending appendage.
I fully deserve it. “I think you should get me a big ol’ ring.
Let everybody know that you’re so proud I’m yours.
You need to scream it from the rooftops. ”
“I can’t afford a big ring,” I sigh. “Try again.”
She picks up her laptop from next to me and opens it, typing in her password. “They make fakes. They’re pretty good these days.”
“Right, but if we get you a big ring then go ask for money, that’s not the best look to the banker,” I explain.
She shrugs. “Yeah? We tell them how frugal you were with the fake.”
I chuckle. “Knowing you, they’ll think you stole it.”
Her jaw drops. “I know they don’t trust me, but I don’t think they think I’m a thief!”
I loll my head at her. “Reba. Come on. They don’t think highly of you. And I’m pretty sure I’ve watched you steal something before. Might have even driven the getaway car.”
That memory makes my stomach dip. Dusty made me do it, saying Becca had something to “take care of.” All she did was run into the house of some girl who did her wrong, swipe something, and dash for the car so I could drive us away.
She sticks her tongue out, and I have to brace myself to keep from letting that affect me. “That was different. Colby cheated and got her due.”
I laugh and her grin is so wide. I forgot how fun it is to make her pleased with herself. She opens a browser tab, goes to a bargain site with fast delivery, and starts browsing ring sets.
“Ooh, Ty, look at that one.”
I lean in, looking at what must be a football-sized stone.
This is all so strange. I thought marriage was no longer a possibility for me after CJ left and I’m too beaten down to even think of dating.
And now I’m entertaining marrying CJ’s best friend, my best friend’s sister?
It’s not a normal marriage, but my mind starts to imagine what it would be like if it was.
Becca lying naked in bed, examining that massive rock on her hand, grinning because I gave it to her.
Sneaking up behind her and pulling her hair away from her neck, placing kisses all down her neck and spine until—
“Ty?”
I shake my head to clear it. “What? That one? No. That’s huge.”
She scoffs. “Three carats isn’t that big.”
“It’s enormous!” I object. “No one’s going to believe I can afford that.”
“But you can afford it, Big Daddy,” she tries, batting her lashes at me. I clench my jaw because I was just imagining her naked and now she’s calling me that. “The whole set is only eighty bucks.”
“Yeah. No.”
“I’ll go halfsies with you,” she offers.
“It ruins the whole story we’re trying to sell!”
“No, it doesn’t! It tells everyone that you’re so swept away by my love that you had to give me the biggest ring money could buy.”
I scrape my fingers over my forehead. “It’s going to look like a bubblegum machine ring. No one will believe a bubblegum machine ring.”
She puffs out her lip and turns toward me. “Aww, Ty. Are you saying you want me to have a nicer ring?”
My jaw clenches. “I’m saying you need to have a believable ring. One where I did the best I could with my modest means.”
She looks up at me through her lashes. “So, two and a half carats instead of three?”