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“That’s great,” I say again.
“So, not married, then?” she asks, looking at my ring finger. “Sorry, I’m Bea.”
“Hi, Bea. No, I’m not married, but I’m here with my—” My what? Girlfriend? Ex-wife?
“I’m Ally,” Ally says, reaching around me to offer her hand for Bea to shake. “And I can hear you.”
“Oh, I was just making conversation,” Bea says, clearly flustered. “I certainly didn’t mean any offense.”
“Of course,” Ally says with a nod and sits back, mumbling under her breath, “Home-wrecker.”
I lean over to whisper in her ear. “Your green eye is especially green tonight, sweetheart.”
“Your blue eyes are both about to be black,” she says with a saccharine-sweet smile. “Must you flirt with anything in a skirt?”
“To be fair, she’s not wearing a skirt. And I wasn’t flirting. I was talking.”
“Hmph.”
“You know, your jealous side always did turn me on. Seems nothing’s changed in that regard.”
Her eyes are pinned to the field, but her lips turn up in a half-smile. This is a conversation we would have had before. Teasing and easy. She’s not easily swayed to jealousy, so I know she’s just giving me shit—the way she always did.
Falling into an easy cadence with her is as simple as breathing.
The game is underway, Bea keeps to herself now, and I spend the next two hours cheering for a team that isn’t mine, in a town that isn’t mine, next to the woman that is mine.
“Come on, ref, put your glasses on!” Ally yells, almost coming off her seat. “What a jerk.”
I grin down at her. “I knew you’d enjoy yourself.”
“I’d enjoy it more if that ref knew what a decent call is.” She shakes her head in disgust. “He’s not a great banker, either.”
“Excuse me?”
“The ref. He works at the bank.”
“Small towns,” I murmur with a smile, enjoying myself. She’s getting so worked up by the game, it’s hilarious to watch. “You would love watching Will play.”
“I’ve been,” she says and sends me a sly smile. It fills my heart to know that she’s still interested in my family after everything that went down between us. They loved her and were upset when we broke up. “I drove to San Francisco to watch him a couple of years ago. I always liked your family.”
“I know.” I swallow and watch the quarterback throw the ball. “They liked you, too. Still do.”
She nods. “Anyway, it was fun to drive down for a couple of days and watch him play. He used to remind me of you.”
“Because of the amount of food we ate?”
“That,” she says, “and your personalities. You’re both easygoing, funny. Kind of cocky.”
“Hey, I’m not cocky.”
She laughs and shakes her head. “Have you met you? You’re completely cocky. But not in an asshole kind of way.”
“Uh, thanks?”
She takes my hand in hers, smiles, and then resumes watching the game. I want to cover my heart with my hand and sigh.
I have it bad. Real bad. I don’t know how we’re going to make this work, but there is no other choice. Because I’m not leaving Bandon without her. Next week or next month, I don’t care when.* * *“You put in a hot tub?” she asks as she stares dumbfounded at the bubbling tub out on the deck. We stepped out to listen to the surf below. “That was fast.”
“I work fast,” I reply. “It seemed like a good investment. Who wouldn’t like to sit out here in that tub, watching the ocean? If I end up using this place as a vacation rental, it’ll help lure in vacationers.”
“I would rent it,” she says and dips her hand in the water. “Is it all ready to go?”
“Yep.”
“I’ll be right back.”
She turns and disappears into the house. I want to go after her, but my phone rings.
“Hi, Stasia,” I say.
“How’s it going?”
“Great.”
“Are you with her?”
“Yes.”
She huffs on the other end of the line. “Gee, you’re so talkative. Tell me things, Archer. Where are you? What did she say when she saw you? What are you doing now? When are you coming back to Seattle? Are you an item again?”
“Christ, do you ever stop talking?”
“I need information. You’ve been very tight-lipped. So, where did you find her?”
“I’m not telling you that.”
She pauses. I can just see her face in my head, her brow furrowed in a frown.
“Why ever not?”
“Because she doesn’t want anyone to know where she is.”
“Well, you have to tell me something.”
“No, I don’t.”
“What if something happens to you? What if something happens here, and I need to send for you?”
“Send for me? What is this, sixteen-sixty? I have a phone. Call me.”
“Archer Steven Montgomery.”
“That’s not going to work, and you know it.”
She sighs dramatically, and I can hear a deep voice in the background.
“He won’t tell me where they are.”
“Is that Kane?”
“Of course, it’s Kane.”
“Tell him to rein in his wife.”
