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“It has a freestanding tub. As for the bedroom, if you don’t like this one, I have another place I can show you that might work better.”
She follows me down the hall. “You mean you weren’t going to anyway?”
I wait outside the door to allow her to feel the space when she enters. “Listening to Kaz, this place was about what you wanted.” She’s smiling when she turns back. “But hearing your priorities, it’s about what’s best for him.”
“That’s marriage, if you’re one of the lucky ones.”
We see two other apartments—one she loves and one she thinks he’ll love. I’ll leave that for them to decide. As soon as I drop her off at the hotel where she’s staying, I pull my phone from the inside pocket of my jacket and check my messages in the back of the SUV.
That’s strange . . .
Tatum—missed calls (2)
Tatum—1 text message. I tap to open her chat box.
Seeing the round box with her initials has me realizing that I’ve missed an opportunity—TD. Touchdown. Just thinking about scoring with her yesterday, getting her off in the hall, and then her returning the favor has me wearing a ridiculously big grin. Fuck me, that mouth and body are magical.
I could veer off the main path, getting lost in those memories, but when I read the messages, concern tugs inside.
First message: Where are you? I need to talk.
What would she need to talk about that can’t wait until tonight when we made plans to see each other? Since hours have passed, I decide to call. Listening to the ring, I start to wonder if she might be one of those people who never answers their phone. Based on her master avoidance skills, I’m sure of it. “This box is full,” the AI voice says.
“Figures.”
Looking out the window, I don’t even know where I am in the city to be able to tell her when I can meet her or where. I text anyway: Just got out of an appointment. Is everything okay?
I wait and watch for three dots to roll across the screen, hoping they do, but nothing comes. Should I detour the car to her apartment building? Or should I keep heading back to Nick and Natalie’s?
Natalie.
She’ll know what’s going on. Just as I pull up her number, we hit a pothole, causing me to glance up. I recognize some of the landmarks, so maybe it’s best I just ask about Tatum when I get back.
The vehicle pulls up to the curb, depositing me at Nick’s. A weird feeling twists in my stomach as I rush up the stairs. Tatum and I haven’t been texting up to this point. It’s been the bane of our relationship, or should I say the lack of texts, actually. So it’s surprising to see this one, but the missed calls are even more strange to receive. The smallest bit of hope grows with every step I take that maybe Tatum will be here, and I can ask her instead.
I’m hit with the smell of something delicious as soon as I walk in. “Hello?”
“Hey, Harrison,” Natalie calls from the back of the house. When I reach the kitchen, she’s cutting carrots.
I’m tempted to hit her with fifty questions, but I have to play this carefully. The last thing I’d want to hear is that Natalie told Tatum I was acting possessive and psycho. “What are you cooking?”
“Chicken noodle soup.” She looks up with a self-deprecating grin. “I think it’s called nesting actually. I can’t seem to want to do anything other than get the house ready for this baby.”
“That’s understandable.” Pulling a barstool out, I sit. I’m hoping she won’t notice my bouncing knee. I’m not foolish enough to believe it will stop until I hear from Tate.
Leaning against the other side of the island, she asks, “How was your day?”
“I think it went well. Lara has two great choices. She only has to decide what’s most important right now. The rest she tends to fix and personalize. I was gone longer than expected, though. Have you heard from Tatum today?” Worst transition ever.
She starts to laugh, stirring the pot, and I wonder if it’s just the soup by how she glances at me out of the corners of her eyes. “She was meeting with a client today. I haven’t gotten an update all day.” Setting the spoon down, she continues, “Some clients like to be babied and decide every detail instead of letting us do our job, especially with so much money involved. Others don’t want to think about a thing and let us handle it all. She’s working with the former, so I’ve not heard anything from her. It seems you two are finally getting along.”
“A lot of years and troubles have flowed under our bridge, but . . .” I chuckle, smiling ear to ear. “Yeah, we’re getting along.”
