Chapter 30
Who the fuck is this Kate woman and why does she call him so dang much?
Penny
I wish you could hear how hard I’m laughing. I just snorted.
But I’m loving how jealous you are right now.
Well, who is she? I swear they’ve been on the phone three times today.
Penny
Kate is Austin’s publicist. I can assure you there’s nothing there. Kate’s like a robot, solely focused on her job.
Calmed by her assurances, I push the jealousy from my mind and enjoy the time Tyler and I have together.
He helps make dinner, sometimes taking over completely, and afterward we settle on the couch, either with one of his crossword puzzle books or our current read.
This time he’s reading a self-published book by a friend of a friend’s called Nothing is Heavy and I’m reading a sexy hockey romance by a new author, Jillian Arly.
The kids hang out in their rooms until inevitably Jay pulls Tyler into a game or two of Fortnite.
We go our separate ways at bedtime; me to my bedroom and Tyler to the newly patched air mattress.
The first night, after much internal back and forth, I sent him a text to join me in my bed.
Now this is our routine: Tyler comes to my room, lies down beside me tucking me into his solid chest, and holds me while I sleep.
That’s all we do. We sleep. Sleep doesn’t come easy to me.
I spend my nights tossing and turning, a few hours of shallow sleep, then I’m awake again.
But with the warmth of Tyler next to me, I can’t recall a single time in my life I’ve slept so sound or felt so content.
Every morning, he’s the first to rise with fresh coffee waiting for me in the kitchen and we repeat the day.
And it’s been nice. Better than nice, if I’m being honest. It’s been perfect.
We’ve gone through this routine for three days now, but based on the conversation drifting from the kitchen, it sounds like Tyler’s heat is fixed.
The snow has melted, other than a few lone snowmen still hanging on for dear life in shady spots, leaving no reason for Tyler to stay another night. And my heart hurts.
Wishing desperately he had a reason to stay, I almost don’t hear his approach as he rounds the couch to sit beside me.
“Time to get back to real life,” I say, forcing neutrality into my voice.
Tyler doesn’t respond immediately. His gaze sweeps over every inch of my face, as if to commit it to memory.
“Yep, real life,” he finally says.
He packs up his stuff while I deflate the air mattress, rolling it up for the storage bag.
Before he leaves, he tells Abby goodbye and does a fist bump with Jay.
I can’t figure out why this all feels so weird, so final.
I know I’ll see him in a few days for the New Year’s ball.
It’s probably good he’s leaving before I get too attached to his solid presence, to having him hold me while I sleep.
I walk him to the door and he pulls me to him, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. I think I hear him take a deep inhale, like he’s breathing me in the same way I do every time he’s near.
Releasing his hold, he says, “Listen, you might not see me for a couple days. I need to get some work done and make some arrangements to have more of my belongings shipped here.” He pauses, like he wants to say more, but then his eyes shift from mine, and he simply says, “I’ll see you on New Year’s Eve, sweetheart. ”
I watch as he descends my steps, and heads to his vehicle, already missing him.
Closing the door, I head to the laundry room to distract myself from thoughts of all things Tyler, how he’s fit in seamlessly with me and my kids from day one and knows what we need without our asking.
He just jumps right in to do it. What I can’t stop thinking about is how the heart that I thought was out of order is definitely feeling… something.
As I’m passing through the kitchen I spot the coffee mug he uses and I snap a picture of it, sending it to Tyler.
The cup already misses you.
No dots appear, but this doesn’t surprise me. I’ve noticed Tyler seems to be more of a talk on the phone type of guy. Placing my phone on the counter, I spend the next hour folding laundry. I’m pretty sure I’ve folded the same towel three times to keep my hands busy.
When I pass through the kitchen to take the basket to Abby, I see that I have a text notification.
Tyler
The cup or you?
Maybe a little of both?
To torture myself, I go to my art room where the scent of him lingers in the air. My eyes immediately land on a hoodie draped over my chair, and without thinking, I greedily tug it over my head, pulling the hood up so I’m enveloped in his smell.
I snap another picture for him, now wearing my new hoodie.
Like my new hoodie?
Tyler
Like the woman wearing it more.
I feel myself grinning like a lovesick fool.
Placing my hand to my mouth, the evidence is there, my lips stretched into the biggest smile.
Biting my cheeks, I attempt to temper my smile, but it’s useless.
Totally and completely without my permission, I might have developed a crush on my daughter’s father.
More than a crush, my brain says. And mentally I shush my brain.
The rest of the week drags on at a snail’s pace.
Tyler calls each evening to check in, asking about my day and telling me about his.
I absolutely don’t tell him I’ve worn his sweatshirt almost constantly.
The scent is beginning to fade, and I also don’t ask if he could please wear it again, then return it to its rightful owner. Which would now be me, of course.
Finally, it’s New Year’s Eve. Austin and Penny are still in Texas, and Lisa and Greg decide to head to the mountains. Therefore, I arranged for Abby to spend the night with Amelia and for Jay to stay with the neighbor. Odds are, Tyler and I will be out late.
Because I know how much Tyler loves my curls, they’re hanging loose down my back.
My makeup is perfect, and I smile when I spritz my perfume on my pressure points.
The other day I used my key to Austin and Penny’s and dug through her closet for a dress.
And, lord have mercy, did she have them.
I slid dress after dress down the rod, none quite right, until I got to the last one.
A strapless midi dress, pretty darn close to my favorite color.
My fingers immediately went to touch the jacquard pattern embroidered in a floral design on the fabric.
Penny’s foot is a size bigger than mine, but I found some nude strappy heels that would give me some added height.
Now, standing in front of my full length mirror, I take in my appearance. Though I’m not what anyone would call skinny, I’ve grown to like my body. It’s weathered many storms and I can find appreciation for my curves.
I grab my phone from my nightstand and shoot a quick text to my group chat with Penny and Cassie.
Fit check.
Penny
Cassie
Lucky Tyler. You’re hot as fuck, Jo.
Penny
Wait, is your hair curly? I don’t remember the last time you wore it curly.
I almost make up some lie about my hair dryer being on the fritz or something that would be believable. But because these are my girls, I text the truth.
Tyler likes it curly.
I don’t wait for a response, because I’m sure they’re blowing up my phone.
Smoothing my hands down the front, I twist behind my back to raise the zipper.
I can’t quite get it all the way to the top and just when I’m looking for something—tweezers, pliers, anything to zip it the rest of the way—a knock sounds at my door at the same time Smudge’s barking alerts me that someone is here.
In typical Tyler fashion, he’s early while I’m not all the way zipped up.
“Coming!” I shout, and scurry to answer the door.
I swing it open, and there he is. Tyler.
Who I haven’t seen in days and didn’t realize I could miss, like a dull ache beneath my ribcage.
He’s wearing a navy suit with a tie that comes close to matching my dress perfectly.
I look down at my dress, then to his tie, and Tyler grins, shrugging.
Looking at him, standing here, the only word that comes to mind is devastating.
My eyes sweep over him, taking in the way his suit fits so perfectly it was probably tailored just for him.
Without thinking, I lick my lips and his gaze drops to follow the motion, heat flickering in his hazel eyes.
Wordlessly, he steps through the threshold, eyes never leaving mine.
“Jo.” He clears his throat and then tries again. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Let me look at you, sweetheart.” Taking my hand, he spins me slowly.
“I’m not all the way zipped. I couldn’t reach it,” I explain, when my back is facing him.
Stepping closer, Tyler deftly slides the zipper up, but before he steps away, he trails his fingers from my neck all the way to my fingertips.
Pin pricks of heat dot my arms, and I feel momentarily breathless, my whole body lighting up.
Eyes fluttering closed, I lean into him and he threads our fingers together.
“You know we could skip it,” I suggest.
“And miss an opportunity to have you on my arm and show you off? Not a chance.”
“Then we should probably get going.” My words come out in a whisper but neither of us move.
After a beat longer of sharing his warmth, I’m the one to finally step away.
“Let me grab my clutch and I’ll be ready,” I say, not trusting myself to look at him. Running to the kitchen, I refill Smudge’s water bowl, and meet him back in my foyer.
“Ready?” I ask.
Tyler flashes me a smile. “Always.”
The school gym has been transformed into a wonderland of lights and colors. Tyler walks me in, his hand on the small of my back. Someone approaches with a tray of champagne flutes, and we each take one. I can feel eyes on me as we move through the gym, probably admiring the gorgeous man by my side.
“Everyone is looking at us,” I whisper from the corner of my mouth.
“They’re looking at you, Jo. You’re the most stunning person in the room.”
I bring the champagne flute to my mouth to hide my smile.
We walk around the room, chatting with various people from around town and school but when “Uptown Funk” starts playing, I turn pleading eyes up to Tyler.
Dancing is one of my favorite things to do, and other than dancing around my house, I usually only dance one time a year. Each summer, Penny and I bust a move at the River Fest.
“Dance with me.”
Tyler’s mouth opens to respond, but I’m already dragging him to the middle of the gym where others are already dancing.
I’m not the greatest dancer, but I do it with wild abandon, and I do at least know how to follow the rhythm of the song. It would appear that Tyler did not get that gift.
“What are you doing?” I ask after several seconds of watching his offbeat shuffle.
A puzzled look crosses his features. “Dancing?” He poses this as a question.
I shake my head. “No, Tyler. That is not dancing. You realize there’s a beat to follow. Those finger snaps you’re doing”—I snap my fingers—“are off.”
Fortunately, Tyler is good humored about his lack of dancing skills but he doesn’t stop.
“Seriously, though. How are you related to Austin James, yet have no rhythm? And Cassie, too! I heard her at karaoke once. Did the dancing gene hop right over you?”
This makes Tyler laugh. Then he shrugs, grabbing my hand to twirl me around. A few more songs play but eventually we stop to grab drinks from the bar.
Some co-workers walk up to chat, and Tyler steps over to say hello to Henry. I’m just wrapping up my conversations when Principal Stanback eases up beside me, too close for comfort.
“You look beautiful tonight, Jo.”
Not wanting to make a scene in front of my colleagues, I pretend I don’t hear him.
But because he can’t take a hint, he keeps on running his mouth.
Craning his neck around to glance to my backside, he makes a strained sound that has my blood boiling.
“That ass, though. I bet you know exactly what you’re doing in that tight little dress.
” Either he thinks I’m here alone, or he hasn’t yet seen Tyler, because he invades my space, the faint smell of alcohol on his breath.
“You thought about my offer?” he murmurs into my ear.