Unforgettable Page 20

“You know what?” he said.

“What?”

“I decided. I’m glad I know. And I’m glad to hear that he was adopted by wonderful parents who really wanted him. That makes me feel good.”

“Me too.”

We sat in silence for another minute, but it wasn’t awkward. It was . . . nice. Familiar. Comfortable.

Tempting.

“Well, I should go in,” I said, reluctantly taking my hand from his. I loved that he’d reached for it. How long had it been since anyone had taken my hand? Kissed me in the dark? Held me close and whispered all the things he wanted to do to me? And why was I wishing Tyler would do all of those things? Was I that lonely? Or just insane?

“Can I still pick you up tomorrow and drive you to work?” he asked.

“You don’t have to. I could ask Chloe to get me on her way in.”

“I want to. I’ll pick you up about eight, if that works? That way I can still get an early run in.”

“That works. Thanks.” I put my hand on the door handle but didn’t pull it. “And thanks for talking about this with me. I know it’s not easy, but in all honesty, I needed this.”

“You’re welcome.” His eyes held mine. “Now get the fuck inside, April, before I forget I’m the good guy tonight.”

Smiling, I hopped out of the car and slammed the door behind me.

That smile lingered on my lips as I let myself into my condo. As I watched him drive away through my living room window. As I floated upstairs to my bedroom. As I undressed myself, got ready for bed, and slid between the sheets. As I recalled the moment at the restaurant when he’d held me close. As I remembered the way he’d taken my hand in the car. As I heard in my mind his deep, hushed voice asking whether I’d had a boy or a girl.

I was so glad he’d asked. I would have been fine if he hadn’t, but it had been such a relief to acknowledge out loud the piece of my past I constantly carried around with me but could never discuss. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

And speaking of shoulders . . . I closed my eyes and pictured Tyler’s body, imagining what it might look like naked. The broad chest. The sculpted arms. The solid abs. The night we’d been together, everything had been so fast and furtive and threaded with fear—Would we get caught? Would I bleed? Would he guess that I’d never done it before? Would he stop? Was this going to hurt? Was I supposed to make noise or be quiet?—that my memories had taken on a blurry, unreal quality. More like a movie than a life experience.

I only recalled two things with any clarity—the moment he reached over and touched my hair, and the way he said, “Come here.” A second later, his lips were on mine and I was in heaven.

God, I wished he’d kissed me goodnight.

Was I losing my mind?

I mean, what would be the point of messing around with him? Nothing could come of it. He was only in town for the wedding. He lived all the way across the country. He wasn’t interested in a relationship. And our history was all kinds of complicated.

But . . . it hadn’t felt complicated tonight.

Being with him had actually felt easy, just the way it used to. Easier than it had ever felt with any other guy, because I didn’t have to hide anything. And I was proud of us. We’d managed to tread softly through a landmine of emotional baggage and come out the other side hand in hand.

He still made me laugh. He still had that cocky grin that made me want to take him down a notch. He still had the biceps, but now he had maturity too, the kind that comes with age and life experience and finally learning that life doesn’t always go the way you planned.

Sighing, I hugged my pillow.

Good thing he was a gentleman.

 

 

The next morning, I woke up at six-thirty and got in the shower, humming a tune and wondering if Tyler would have time for breakfast before running me up to Cloverleigh. I decided to text him and ask.

Me: Hey. How was your run? Do you have time for breakfast?

Tyler: You caught me. I skipped the early run and slept in. Totally down for breakfast.

Me: I know a great spot. See you at eight.

Since I wouldn’t have time to come home before Sadie’s rehearsal, I dressed a little more formally than usual, in a black and white gingham pencil skirt, black blouse, and heels. My hair still held some of its Beyoncé waves, but I knew it would be a busy day, so I tied it back in a ponytail, leaving just a few pieces loose around my face.

A few minutes before eight, I heard his knock. I raced down the steps to answer it, but when I hit the landing I made myself slow down, take a breath, chill. When my heart stopped pounding so fast, I opened the door.

Seeing Tyler on my doorstep made my pulse spike right back up again. He was dressed casually—jeans, sneakers, and a navy zip-up sweatshirt—and he hadn’t shaved. But the smile was what got to me.

“Morning,” he said, his eyes traveling over my outfit. “Damn. You look awesome. I’m a little underdressed.”

I laughed. “You’re fine. Thanks for coming to get me.”

“No problem. You ready?” He glanced over his shoulder. “I think it might rain soon, so if we don’t want to get soaked, we should move.”

I nodded. “Let me just grab my purse. Want to come in for a sec?”

“Sure.” He shut the door behind himself and looked around. “I like your place.”

“Thanks.” I moved toward my kitchen and dining area, which was open to the living room. From the counter I grabbed my keys and phone, tucking them into my purse.

He wandered toward the fireplace and studied the framed photographs on the mantel. “Whose wedding is this?”

“My youngest sister, Frannie’s.”

“She was a friend of Sadie’s, right?”

“Yes. She still is.”

“I feel like I recognize the groom too.”

“You probably do—he was two years ahead of us in school, and he played baseball. Declan MacAllister. Goes by Mack.”

“Oh, right.” He took the frame off the shelf and looked more closely. “Outfielder. Good arm.”

I walked over and stood beside him. “They got married last fall. He’s actually the CFO at Cloverleigh Farms. He had three daughters from a previous marriage—that’s who those young girls are.”

“Wow. Three girls.” He set the photo back on the mantel.

I laughed. “She’s trying to convince him to have more.”

“He’s probably a great dad.”

“He is.” I threw my bag over my shoulder. “Okay, ready to go.”

Outside, the sky was completely overcast and the air was slightly humid. Off to the west, I could see dark gray clouds moving toward us and knew Tyler was right about the rain coming. He unlocked the passenger door and opened it for me.

“Thanks,” I said as I climbed in. “The place I want to take you for breakfast is Frannie’s pastry shop. But they have eggs and sandwiches and all kinds of things. Plus, the coffee is amazing.”

“Sounds good. Just tell me how to get there.”

Once he was behind the wheel, I gave him directions and he nodded, but I could tell he was distracted by something. He leaned toward the driver’s side door, elbow on the window, hand rubbing his jaw.

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