Chapter 12
Cold Feet
Angelina
Me: I’ll meet you at Rosie’s in an hour.
Tyler: See you then. :)
I hope I’m not making a mistake by agreeing to see Tyler, but he’s been texting me every day asking to meet.
I have no intention of taking him back. If that’s what he’s hoping for, he can put that right out of his feeble little mind.
There’s no coming back from the stunt he pulled, and whatever speech he rehearsed in the mirror this morning will fall on deaf ears.
What I want is closure, not reconciliation.
I pull up to Rosie’s a few minutes early and place my usual order. Whatever Tyler has to say will go down much better with food. He’s bound to be late, anyway. Tyler hasn’t been on time for a single thing in all the years I’ve known him.
While I wait, my mind replays that night on the tailgate, as it has every day since. The truth about what happened five years ago, and Griffin’s impassioned declaration that he wants something more, something deeper than friendship, hasn’t strayed far from my thoughts.
I just don’t know if I’m ready for anything close to what he’s offering, and I’m certainly not while Tyler is still trying to worm his way back into my life.
Maybe that’s why I agreed to meet with him today.
I don’t need his permission to move on, but I need mine.
The only way to get that is to find closure.
I can’t think about the future when my past won’t leave me alone.
As predictable as the tides, he arrives five minutes past the hour, his sun-kissed skin accentuating his deep blue irises. Once upon a time, those eyes could’ve melted me with one look. Standing here now, I’m completely unaffected. I breathe a quiet sigh of relief at the realization.
I didn’t miss him; what I missed was the companionship. The house is lonely without him, but I could fill that loneliness with anyone and still feel as fulfilled. It has nothing to do with Tyler and everything to do with my fear of being alone.
“Hey, Ange.” He touches my lower back as he attempts to pull me in for a hug. The touch feels like a thousand needles prickling beneath my skin.
I push him away, crossing my arms. “Don’t. Whatever you think this is, you’re wrong. You wanted to talk, so talk.”
He reaches for me again, his hand hovering in the air between us before it drops. There’s genuine remorse written on his face, but I can’t discern if it’s for him or me. Does he regret what he did? Or is this something else?
He slides his hands into his pockets. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just got cold feet.”
I let out a humorless laugh, but I don’t have anything to say, so I wait for him to continue.
“I still love you. We can start over. I can give you the wedding you wanted. We can go to Greece and Italy together.”
“You think that’s what I want? That giving me everything I asked for will convince me to take you back? You ended this. You lost the best thing that’s ever happened to you.” I put my hand on my waist and pop my hip out. “Why the change of heart? Is it because I’m with Griffin now?”
An icy chill descends around us as his expression goes from contrition to something darker.
He sneers. “You just had to bring him up.”
“He’s my husband now. Why wouldn’t I bring him up?”
It’s the first time I’ve referred to him as my husband to anyone but myself, and the intended effect is instantaneous. Where was this passion when we were together?
Tyler’s muscles coil as he glares at me with derision. “You were my fiancée. He’s my best friend. You don’t see how fucked up that is?” He shakes his head, his jaw ticking and nostrils flaring. “God, I bet this was his plan all along. Did you fuck him?”
I smile sweetly, my head tilted to the side. “Yeah. I did. Right on the balcony of the honeymoon suite. I screamed his name at the Las Vegas skyline. Best sex of my life.”
“I can’t believe you would do this to me.”
I step closer, jabbing my finger into his chest. “You don’t get to come in here and play the victim. Not after what you did.”
He holds up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I’m sorry. I know I fucked up, but you have to admit that what you did is worse.”
I swipe at the single angry tear that escapes past my lashes.
Not now. Fuck.
“Worse than flying off on our honeymoon after you left me with nothing but a note? God, you’re such a loser. I can’t believe I ever agreed to marry you.”
I devoted three years of my life to this man. Three years I could’ve spent with someone who actually cared—someone like Griffin. The thought is fleeting, there one second and gone the next, but the sentiment rings true all the same.
The bell above the door chimes, drawing my attention to the six-foot-seven cowboy striding toward us. His expression is downright murderous as he stares at Tyler, but it softens the moment his eyes land on me.
When he’s close enough, he pulls me into his arms, and his sensual amber scent wraps around me. “Sorry, I’m late.”
Griffin
I haven’t heard from Angie since I dropped her off at home the other night.
Between riding lessons and getting Sadie acclimated to her new surroundings, there hasn’t been much time for anything else, but Ty’s been back in town for a couple of days, and I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him.
No man could walk away from Angelina Rossi and not regret it.
I sign the paperwork and slide it across Jaxon’s desk, tossing down his pen. “That all? I have somewhere to be.”
After two days of radio silence, I’m itching to set eyes on my wife.
He sets his glasses down, leaning back in his chair. “Hot date with the wifey?”
“Something like that.”
Despite her impulsiveness in Vegas, Angelina’s usually a creature of habit. It’s Tuesday, which means, as long as she hasn’t been called out to an emergency, she’ll be having lunch at Rosie’s Diner.
Jaxon chuckles. “I know that look. You’re so fucked, man.”
“Are we done here?”
He dismisses me with a wave of his hand.
I get in my truck and gun it down the back roads into town, white-knuckling the steering wheel. She hasn’t been responding to my texts, and I’m not up for a repeat ghosting. Not this time.
I pull onto the side street near the restaurant. Maybe I’ll just circle the block. Once I see her, I’ll feel better about the whole thing.
Fat fucking chance of that happening. One glimpse will never be enough.
Tourist season is in full swing with the blossom festival on the horizon, and the streets are full of passersby. At least I won't be subjected to the bachelor auction this year.
When I spot Angie’s work van parked across from the diner, my heart leaps.
I could eat. At least then I’ll have an excuse to be here.
I pull up to the curb and park behind the familiar navy blue truck belonging to my former best friend.
Every one of my nerve endings is on high alert as I hop out of my truck and slam the door shut.
Angie’s already inside the diner, standing toe to toe with Tyler.
He has a few inches on her, but she’s holding her own.
I smirk and lean back against my truck, watching the spectacle through the windows.
I’ve never seen her so angry. She jabs her finger against his chest, and he holds his hands up and says something that only seems to make her more pissed off.
She clearly doesn’t need my help handing him his ass, but Jaxon once told me I’m like a coach for bad decisions, and I’m always on the winning team. Maybe it’s time I step up to the plate.
I walk through the door with single-minded focus. Without an ounce of hesitation, I stride over and pull Angie into my arms. “Sorry, I’m late. Had to sign some paperwork for Jax.”
Before she can respond, I cup her cheek and kiss her like we’ve been doing this forever.
I expect her to push me away, but she does the opposite.
She grabs my shirt and practically melts into the kiss.
Her tongue tangles with mine as she takes control, bending me to her will.
I let her because she’s a goddamn queen, and I am but a humble servant.
She tastes like spearmint gum and bad decisions.
Tyler clears his throat, breaking us out of the moment.
I slide my arm around Angie’s waist, holding her against me. If the kiss wasn’t enough of a claim, the way she leans into me oughta do it. “Ty. How was your honeymoon?”
He opens his mouth to answer, but I cut him off.
“Oh. You know what. I forgot. I don’t give a fuck.”
Tyler shakes his head indignantly, and I don’t miss the subtle clenching of his fists. “My best friend and my girl. I didn’t wanna believe it.”
“Oh, come on. You know I don’t do anything half-assed. Unlike you, I know how to commit.” I squeeze Angie’s hip. “In case it wasn’t clear, she’s not your girl anymore, and I’m sure as shit not your friend.”
Angie lays her hand over my heart, looking up at me through thick lashes.
There’s a rebellious glint in her eyes that tells me she’s about to do something wicked.
Her hand trails slowly down my chest, stopping above my belt buckle.
“I’m suddenly hungry for something else. Why don’t we take our lunch to go?”
Jesus Christ.
Don’t get hard. Think of something else. Anything else.
Circus clowns, sewer rats, horse shit. That’ll do it.
The bell above the door chimes, and I glance up just in time to see Tyler’s truck speeding away.
Angie’s shoulders shake as she dissolves into a fit of laughter. “That was too good. Did you see the look on his face?”
I smile, but inside I’m dying to know what he said to her.
Before I can ask, Rosie comes through the swinging doors and sets a plate down on the long counter. “You must be hungry after that performance.”
Angie beams at her and slides onto the stool. “Should’ve known you were listening in, Nosy Rosie.”
“Hard to miss, doll.” She turns her attention to me. “Can I get you anything? Pie? Soda? Ice to put out the fire in your pants.”
“Rosie!” Angie squeals with a fry halfway to her mouth.