35. Tyler
THIRTY-FIVE
TYLER
“Night, Ty.”
“Night, Reba.”
One week of marriage, and this is the greeting she gives me from outside my closed bedroom door.
In fairness, I’ve been so busy this week that I haven’t had much time to woo my wife.
The only time we were alone together was when we went to sign for the loan on Tuesday.
Since we were under the town’s microscope, we had to be on our best couple-y behavior.
I paid down all the back bills to my parts dealers and put out an ad for a mechanic.
I sanded all the floors at the cottage into the wee hours of the morning yesterday and I plan to finish them this weekend when I can open the windows without freezing to death.
No matter how late I went to bed, I left a bunch of flowers somewhere I knew Becca would find them. That was the best I could do for wooing.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t want her.
Every time I lick my lips, I swear I can still taste her. Every time I close my eyes, I see flashes of her smile while she danced at our wedding reception. Every scent is her hair and bubble gum. And every sound I can remember has been replaced by her desperate plea.
I’m so close, Tyler, please.
I stare at the ceiling like I have every other night this week, digging my heels into the mattress and trying to deny how hard I am, calculating how much I’d be willing to give to hear her call my name like that again.
Like all the other nights, I lose the battle of trying not to think of Becca while my dick is in my hand.
I grunt at the first stroke, circling my cock and moving from root to tip.
A wave of guilt passes over me. She would love to do this with me. Hell, even to watch me while she does the same.
But if we crack this open and start messing around when we’re just days into a years-long arrangement, I run the risk of having it go like it did last time: with Ellie left feeling abandoned, and me feeling like the worst dad in the world.
I can’t take my eye off the prize, and the prize is financial stability for all three of us: her, Ellie, and me.
Becca stands between me and what my daughter needs.
Not because she means to, and not by any fault of her own.
It’s because I can’t do it all. I already devoted too much of Ellie’s early life to trying to take care of her mom.
That alone almost burned me completely out.
I only have so much to give, and I’m not sure I can be both a good dad and a good partner.
So until Ellie’s old enough to go on her own, I’ll fly solo.
Just like I am now, remembering Becca’s sweet taste on my tongue, the pressure of her heels on my back, the delicious heaven between her legs.
At least I got to experience it for myself.
I shove my pajama pants down until my cock springs free, relaxing on my back.
I spread a bead of precum down my shaft, my fingers rubbing the sensitive spot under the head.
My eyes drift shut as the Becca movie starts to play in my head.
Her soft body under mine as I pressed her against the LeBaron, her wetness on my fingers, and her moan—
Fuck. My hand stops moving as I listen closely. A quiet hum fills the air, along with stilted breathing and a squeak like she’s turning on her mattress. Fuck, is she using a vibrator? Every muscle in my body strains to run for the door, to tear hers down and watch or touch or do whatever she asks.
“Tyler.”
My name. She said my fucking name. But does she know I can hear her?
A moan that must be how angels sing and a gasp. I know the walls were thin. Has she been able to hear me every night? How has she been able to contain herself all this time? I’m basically a teenager again with how often I’m getting hard thinking about her.
Becca just let out the sweetest sigh. For one almost-perfect night, I got to be the one drawing those sounds out of her.
“So good, baby.”
It slips out of my mouth and right now, I don’t even care. I wonder if she’s on her back or her stomach now, which way gets her off better. I wonder if she left her clothes on or if she’s naked, those nipple piercings glinting with the light from her bedside lamp or if her lights are out.
I have to be hallucinating, because there’s no way I’m hearing another “Ty.” But she does it again, louder. “Tyler.”
“Reba.” I grunt instead of saying it because what if she comes in here because she thinks something’s wrong rather than what’s actually happening, which is me getting off to the thought of her getting off.
Not just the thought of it.
The sound. The smell of all her body wash and shampoo from the shower that lingers in the air. The knowledge that there’s just a wall between us.
“Reba,” I say again before I utter a curse and come, my release splashing up to my chin. And while I’m in the middle of it, there’s one more desperate cry from next door.
“Tyler.”
“Tyler.”
I startle awake to a frantic knock in the middle of the night. I sit up in bed and rub my eyes, trying to figure out where I am. Since I’m in a bed and not on a couch, it’s obviously not my apartment. Becca’s house. My new home.
“Tyler,” Becca hisses through the door.
“Yeah?”
The door cracks open, revealing a sliver of Becca. “There’s raccoons in my room,” she rushes out.
“What?”
“There are raccoons in my room,” she says more slowly, but her voice trembles.
“I know I’m a big girl and I can handle it myself, but they’re fucking raccoons and they’re where I sleep and you’re a boy and I just—” She cuts herself off with hysterical almost-crying and waving her hands.
“Please help. It touched my face, Tyler. My face! With its little hand paw thing!”
My feet are already on the floor, my head in my hands as I try to figure out how to help. “Did you close them in there?”
“Yes! But they can outsmart a door handle, so it’s just a matter of time.”
“How many, do you think?”
“Somewhere between a hundred and a thousand, Tyler. I don’t know, one is too many!”
I put my hands out trying to calm her down. “I know. I know. Okay. I’ll . . . go look.”
“Be careful, they’re crazy!”
I grab a sweatshirt from my duffel bag, as I still haven’t fully moved in here. I pull the hood up and Becca asks, “What’s that for?”
I shrug. “I don’t know, so they don’t touch me or something? You said a hundred.”
Becca pins herself to the wall across the hall from her room, putting her hands up to shield herself in case one runs out. “Don’t let ‘em loose.”
“I won’t, I just need to assess.”
I slip into her room and close the door.
No fewer than seven pairs of eyes look back at me.
A few of them gather around a pack of cigarettes, where one has already been extracted and is being chewed upon.
Their beady little eyes peer at me in a way that makes me unsure whether they think I have more food or if I’m next.
I don’t need to see anymore. She’s right to be upset. This is a horror show. I rush back into the hall and slam her door behind me.
“You’re right. It’s like a hundred.”
“Ew,” she cries, flapping her hands again. “I hate this.”
“I know. Just,” I huff a breath, trying to clear my head, “come get in bed with me.”
“They could get out!” she squeals.
I sigh but she’s not wrong. I go get the single chair from my room and wedge it under the door handle. “There. Now they can’t get out. We’ll call somebody with traps in the morning.”
“I have my biggest festival yet tomorrow! I can’t be having a pest control truck here!” She’s breathing like she’ll hyperventilate. “I need to wash my face. I can’t believe that little shit touched me.”
“Okay, but then come to my room.”
“What if they start crawling through the vents?” she whisper-shrieks, both of us still committed to not waking Ellie.
This has not yet occurred to me, and they are pretty damn smart. “We’ll . . . Take it as it comes. Go wash your face and let’s try to sleep.”
Her lower lip trembles. “Will you come with me? What if they’re in the bathroom?”
I sigh. “There’s no hole in the ceiling in there.”
“The exhaust fan!” she points out. “They’d just have to push it in—”
I put my hands on her shoulders in some quest to calm her down, marching along behind her. “I’ll come with you.”
“Thank you,” she squeaks, but when we get to the bathroom door, she shrinks away from it and into me. “Will you check first?”
I take a deep breath and squeeze her shoulders. I step past her and open the door wider. I jump at the door’s shadow and Becca screams, then covers her mouth. “Sorry.”
“Alright. It’s all clear.”
Becca tows me in there by the hand. “I have to pee too. Don’t look.”
I guess it doesn’t matter that I’ve seen it all already.
I settle on the rim of the bathtub and put my hands over my eyes.
I was looking forward to a good sleep before helping out with the festival and working on the cottage tomorrow, but restful sleep is clearly off the menu.
After she washes her face, we scurry back to my bed, Becca jumping in first and pulling the covers over her head.
I chuckle as I get in next to her, making a show of not being able to find her because she’s too far under the sheets.
She wiggles her way over to me, nestles her face into my chest, and seals her arm around my waist.
“I’m too scared,” she protests.
“You want me to come in there with you?”
“Yes, please.”
I pull the covers over my own head and find her sweet blue eyes peering up at me.
“I didn’t think I was afraid of raccoons,” she admits.
“I mean, being touched by one while you’re sleeping is a little different than being afraid of one on the side of the road.”
She nods and it’s warm where we’re both breathing under the covers.
“I don’t want to deal with it,” she moans. “I need tomorrow to be perfect.”
I kiss her hair and stroke down her spine, warmth spreading through me as she cuddles closer. “I’ll help you.”
“I feel like I’m taking advantage of you.”
“I promise you’re not,” I say. “I’ll tell you if I can’t handle something.”
Becca goes quiet and pushes herself back so she can look at me.
“About that. I’m glad you asked for what you needed after the dinner at your parents’ house.
I know we’re not as close as we used to be, but .
. . I want you to know that you can unpack things like that with me. You don’t have to hide that away.”
Warmth spreads through me as I consider that. “Thanks. I guess I’m used to handling everything on my own. Even with Dusty, we usually just talk about whatever. Feelings aren’t really part of it.”
Becca tips her head at me. “Dusty’s a great feelings guy. I’m sure he’d love it if you opened up.”
Now that I think of it, he is pretty forthcoming.
But Becca goes on. “I didn’t say it, but I kinda needed you then.
Or, wanted, I guess. I survived it obviously,” she gestures to herself.
“I appreciated that you stood up for me, but I could have used some cuddle time to come down. Or just a hangout, I don’t know. ”
I’m stunned. It didn’t even cross my mind to go to Becca for comfort. I snort and tug her closer. “I think I could have used a cuddle too.”
She hums as she nestles her head into my chest and I sigh. There’s a long pause when I wonder if she’s falling asleep. Her voice is muffled from where she’s buried in my chest. “I heard you say my name.”
I go still all over. It’s slightly mortifying that we’re actually going to talk about this, even though we’ve seen each other do several more taboo activities.
It’s somehow different now. We’re married, living in the same house, and in effect, we’ve been avoiding each other.
And, as it seems, thinking about each other while we get off.
Very rational behavior out of both of us.
“I could hear you,” I admit. “I don’t think you know how sexy you are, Reba.”
“I have some idea,” she says quietly. “Because you’re just as hot.”
We go quiet again, her blue eyes watching my brown ones. I swallow hard.
“I wanted a wedding night with you,” I admit.
She nods with a sad smile. “I did too.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I know this is weird.”
She’s so pretty lying here next to me in her little pajamas. We’re sealed away from the rest of the world, just the two of us in a wonderland of sheets.
“I want everything. Our businesses doing well. Ellie to feel safe and secure. To give you all the love you deserve.”
“And all the lovin’?” she suggests with a sweet, mischievous smile.
I can’t help but grin at her. “Yeah. That too.” I lick my lips and roll them between my teeth. “I’m afraid if I take my eye off the prize, I’ll lose focus and ruin things for Ellie.”
“I get that.” Her eyes follow her finger down the front of my shirt and back up again. “I’m not her mom, but I bet it’s good for her to see her dad happy too.”
The deeper doubts tug at my insides. What if Becca breaks my heart? What if being with Becca does what being with CJ did to me? Hardens me against the world? Makes me lose faith in myself, my judgment?
“I know,” I whisper. “I’m just afraid I can’t do it all.”
“Well,” she chuckles, “not sure I’ve ever been in one, but I think healthy relationships make life better. You work together to make it good for both of you.”
I run my tongue along my teeth. “I have trouble with that. I get too focused on everyone else and then get resentful.”
She smirks. “You? Resent me? Impossible.”
Looking at her like this, in my bed, stripped down, vulnerable, I don’t know how I ever resented her. Maybe she’s a different person than she once was, and so am I.
“Maybe we could just go slow,” she suggests.
I have to laugh at that. “You’ve never been slow a day in your life, Reba.”
She presses her lips together, then smiles. “I think I could be for the things that matter. Some things are worth the wait.”
“You’ll wait for me?”
“I won’t wait.”
I quirk a brow at her and she goes on.
“I’ll be right here with you along the way.”
My hand slides down her side to her waist and I pull her in tight to kiss her. This kiss is slow, thoughtful, just the two of us feeling each other. When we part, she giggles.
“You do have to communicate, though. I would have fucked the shit out of you on our wedding day if I knew you wanted it.”
“When? When you were out picking pumpkins in the middle of the night?”
She cocks her head. “Yeah, I’d fuck you in the pumpkin patch.” We laugh into a kiss, then she laughs harder. “I’d make you sit with a pumpkin stem up your ass.”
There’s a rustling next door and Becca flinches. “Make them go away. They’re probably running amok in there.”
I tuck her into my chest and kiss her forehead. “In the morning. I’ll call Jake and Dusty and we’ll evict ‘em.”
Becca nods and after a few deep breaths, she’s asleep in my arms.