I felt my brows draw together and I repeated, “What?”
He looked to the TV muttering, “Nothin’.”
“Ty,” I called and he didn’t look at me but still I repeated, “What?” He continued not to look at me so I asked, “What don’t you get?”
Then his eyes sliced to me and he proceeded without hesitation to rock my world.
“You’re part-goof all class. Never walked in a room, any room, with a woman on my arm, any woman, who’s got your looks, your style, the kinda beauty you got and the light that shines from you. So I don’t get it. I don’t get how a woman leads a life full of shit and comes out of it bein’ part-goof and all class. That shit’s impossible but there you f**kin’ are. Part-goof, all class.”
I felt my breath coming fast but managed to whisper, “I’m not part-goof.”
“You’re right. I was bein’ nice. You’re a total goof.”
“Am not.”
“Babe, you call me ‘hubby’,” he pointed out but my breath came faster because he called me “babe” again.
“You are my hubby.”
“No one says hubby,” he told me.
“I do,” I told him.
“All right, I’ll rephrase. No one but a goof says hubby.”
“Is that written in stone somewhere?”
“It should be.”
“So, you don’t like it.”
At that, his body twisted minutely in my direction, his chin dipped down a half a centimeter, his eyes locked with mine and I quit breathing.
And his voice was a very low rumble when he stated, “I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”
“Okay,” I breathed.
“I like it.” He kept rumbling.
“Okay,” I repeated breathily.
“You’re still a f**kin’ goof.”
I kept silent.
“And I like that too,” he finished, readjusted microscopically and his eyes slid to the TV.
I decided my best course of action at that juncture was to point my eyes at the TV too so I did. Then I struggled to regain control of my breathing. I managed this feat. Then I wondered again what he was wearing under the sheet. Then I struggled to quit wondering and also managed that but barely. Then I allowed the fact that he liked me calling him “hubby” and that I was a goof (he thought) to penetrate. Then I tried to stop myself from allowing the fact that I liked that he liked those things and I also liked all the other things he said to penetrate.
I failed at that.
Then I pulled the covers up high on my shoulder because the room was f**king freezing and I managed to fall asleep in a bed with Ty Walker.
I woke up and he was gone. This time, he left a note on his pillow that said,
L
Gym.
T
I studied it with sleepy eyes and for some bizarre reason, memorized his slashes. And that was what his handwriting was. Dark, heavily pressed slashes. Even where there should be curves there were slashes.
Then I got up, got ready to hit the pool, wrote him a note and then for some other bizarre reason, I folded and tucked his one word note into a pocket in my wallet.
Then I went to the pool and ordered a latte from a passing waiter hoping Ty would show eventually so we could have breakfast together. And I didn’t allow myself to think about this hope or the fact that my eyes moved to the doors to the pool on far more than a rare occasion hoping I’d spy him striding out of them. In fact, not lying in bed with him after he won half a million dollars and told me I was a goof and beautiful, I was able to disallow myself from doing a lot of things.
Though one of those things wasn’t stopping my eyes from wandering hopefully to the door time and again.
Shit.
It hit me I was hot, as in very hot and that was something I didn’t expect I’d be after I woke up with a frozen nose in the deep freeze that was our room. It also hit me that the morning was wearing on, Ty was not showing and I was hungry.
It was time to find my husband.
But I’d do that after a cool down.
I set my eReader aside, took off my shades and tossed them aside too, got up and moved to the edge of the pool. I waited for my opening in the busy pool, bent my legs and dove in.
The cool waters hit me like a slap and felt great. I loved the water, loved swimming. Ronnie had promised me a beach house but obviously never delivered on that promise. In fact, until I took a significant detour the day before showing up to pick up Ty, I’d never been to a beach. But I built the time in to hit La Jolla. I didn’t have a lot of time but I built it in, parked the car and took an hour long walk on the beach before climbing into my car, driving to the town outside the prison and checking into a motel to spend the night before I had to pick up Ty. And even though that beach was packed, it was the most peaceful hour I’d had in my entire life. It wasn’t bliss, it wasn’t even happiness. It was quiet contentment, warm sun, soft sand, the sound of the waves and the beauty of a horizon filled with blue.
Now that I had my life back, I was going to carve in a vacation at the beach. Maybe, after Ty’s business was done and I was free, I’d go to the beach.
Maybe I’d try to talk him into going with me.
Shit.
Pushing this thought aside, my stomach told me it needed food and I struck out to the ladder at the side of the pool. I pulled myself out and the sun glinted, sending a bright flicker that caught my attention and I looked to my left hand and saw my wedding rings.
Then I felt my mouth curve into a smile.
When I realized my mouth had curved into a smile at the mere sight of my wedding rings, it turned down into a frown.
Shit.
I pushed that thought aside too when my feet hit deck, my eyes went to my lounge chair and it took a lot for me to keep moving to it when I saw the man stretched out in the one next to mine.
Navarro. Navarro wearing nice slacks, one of those shiny, expensive polo necked shirts and shades that cost more than Ty’s. Shades, incidentally, that were pointed at me and they were pointed at me in a way that I knew they’d been set in my direction for awhile.
I was dripping wet and not feeling good about him being there as I moved to the opposite side of my lounge from him, quickly grabbed my towel and held it full-length to the front of me, eyes on him, hands in the towel pressing it against the lower half of my face.
His shades were still on me.
I dropped my hands to my neck and pressed my bent arms against the towel into my body.
“Hey,” I said.
He unfolded from the chair and stood opposite me.
He looked to the TV muttering, “Nothin’.”
“Ty,” I called and he didn’t look at me but still I repeated, “What?” He continued not to look at me so I asked, “What don’t you get?”
Then his eyes sliced to me and he proceeded without hesitation to rock my world.
“You’re part-goof all class. Never walked in a room, any room, with a woman on my arm, any woman, who’s got your looks, your style, the kinda beauty you got and the light that shines from you. So I don’t get it. I don’t get how a woman leads a life full of shit and comes out of it bein’ part-goof and all class. That shit’s impossible but there you f**kin’ are. Part-goof, all class.”
I felt my breath coming fast but managed to whisper, “I’m not part-goof.”
“You’re right. I was bein’ nice. You’re a total goof.”
“Am not.”
“Babe, you call me ‘hubby’,” he pointed out but my breath came faster because he called me “babe” again.
“You are my hubby.”
“No one says hubby,” he told me.
“I do,” I told him.
“All right, I’ll rephrase. No one but a goof says hubby.”
“Is that written in stone somewhere?”
“It should be.”
“So, you don’t like it.”
At that, his body twisted minutely in my direction, his chin dipped down a half a centimeter, his eyes locked with mine and I quit breathing.
And his voice was a very low rumble when he stated, “I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”
“Okay,” I breathed.
“I like it.” He kept rumbling.
“Okay,” I repeated breathily.
“You’re still a f**kin’ goof.”
I kept silent.
“And I like that too,” he finished, readjusted microscopically and his eyes slid to the TV.
I decided my best course of action at that juncture was to point my eyes at the TV too so I did. Then I struggled to regain control of my breathing. I managed this feat. Then I wondered again what he was wearing under the sheet. Then I struggled to quit wondering and also managed that but barely. Then I allowed the fact that he liked me calling him “hubby” and that I was a goof (he thought) to penetrate. Then I tried to stop myself from allowing the fact that I liked that he liked those things and I also liked all the other things he said to penetrate.
I failed at that.
Then I pulled the covers up high on my shoulder because the room was f**king freezing and I managed to fall asleep in a bed with Ty Walker.
I woke up and he was gone. This time, he left a note on his pillow that said,
L
Gym.
T
I studied it with sleepy eyes and for some bizarre reason, memorized his slashes. And that was what his handwriting was. Dark, heavily pressed slashes. Even where there should be curves there were slashes.
Then I got up, got ready to hit the pool, wrote him a note and then for some other bizarre reason, I folded and tucked his one word note into a pocket in my wallet.
Then I went to the pool and ordered a latte from a passing waiter hoping Ty would show eventually so we could have breakfast together. And I didn’t allow myself to think about this hope or the fact that my eyes moved to the doors to the pool on far more than a rare occasion hoping I’d spy him striding out of them. In fact, not lying in bed with him after he won half a million dollars and told me I was a goof and beautiful, I was able to disallow myself from doing a lot of things.
Though one of those things wasn’t stopping my eyes from wandering hopefully to the door time and again.
Shit.
It hit me I was hot, as in very hot and that was something I didn’t expect I’d be after I woke up with a frozen nose in the deep freeze that was our room. It also hit me that the morning was wearing on, Ty was not showing and I was hungry.
It was time to find my husband.
But I’d do that after a cool down.
I set my eReader aside, took off my shades and tossed them aside too, got up and moved to the edge of the pool. I waited for my opening in the busy pool, bent my legs and dove in.
The cool waters hit me like a slap and felt great. I loved the water, loved swimming. Ronnie had promised me a beach house but obviously never delivered on that promise. In fact, until I took a significant detour the day before showing up to pick up Ty, I’d never been to a beach. But I built the time in to hit La Jolla. I didn’t have a lot of time but I built it in, parked the car and took an hour long walk on the beach before climbing into my car, driving to the town outside the prison and checking into a motel to spend the night before I had to pick up Ty. And even though that beach was packed, it was the most peaceful hour I’d had in my entire life. It wasn’t bliss, it wasn’t even happiness. It was quiet contentment, warm sun, soft sand, the sound of the waves and the beauty of a horizon filled with blue.
Now that I had my life back, I was going to carve in a vacation at the beach. Maybe, after Ty’s business was done and I was free, I’d go to the beach.
Maybe I’d try to talk him into going with me.
Shit.
Pushing this thought aside, my stomach told me it needed food and I struck out to the ladder at the side of the pool. I pulled myself out and the sun glinted, sending a bright flicker that caught my attention and I looked to my left hand and saw my wedding rings.
Then I felt my mouth curve into a smile.
When I realized my mouth had curved into a smile at the mere sight of my wedding rings, it turned down into a frown.
Shit.
I pushed that thought aside too when my feet hit deck, my eyes went to my lounge chair and it took a lot for me to keep moving to it when I saw the man stretched out in the one next to mine.
Navarro. Navarro wearing nice slacks, one of those shiny, expensive polo necked shirts and shades that cost more than Ty’s. Shades, incidentally, that were pointed at me and they were pointed at me in a way that I knew they’d been set in my direction for awhile.
I was dripping wet and not feeling good about him being there as I moved to the opposite side of my lounge from him, quickly grabbed my towel and held it full-length to the front of me, eyes on him, hands in the towel pressing it against the lower half of my face.
His shades were still on me.
I dropped my hands to my neck and pressed my bent arms against the towel into my body.
“Hey,” I said.
He unfolded from the chair and stood opposite me.
