I turn to leave, but he halts me with a quiet “Stop.”
I turn to face him. He hasn’t moved. He’s watching me with his arms crossed over his chest. “We are too important for you to just walk away, Lauren.”
“I’m not walking away from you. I’m irritated with you and I need to go home. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“You don’t want me to come over tonight?”
I shake my head no. “Let’s just take a night off from each other, Ty. I’ll be working all night anyway.”
He nods, still angry, but his eyes have softened. In relief? I’m not sure.
I leave his office, ignoring Sylvia as she calls out to me, asking if I want to make an appointment with Cary.
I can’t deal with this right now.
I took the afternoon off because I missed Ty and I wanted to see him in action in the courtroom. Now I have a good eight hours of work ahead of me before I can e-mail the manuscript to my editor. She wants it by the time she gets to her office at 9:00 a.m. eastern time.
I can do this.
I push thoughts of Ty and his hurt eyes out of my head as I pull up to my house and let myself in and march straight back to the my pool house. The men finished up yesterday, thank God, and I can finally swim again. Seventy-five laps or so should get my head back in the game.
I strip naked and swim. I love the feel of the water over my skin, the sound it makes as it rushes past my ears.
Fuck, I even love the way it smells.
After the last lap, I climb out and brace my hands on my knees, panting and dripping water all over the concrete floor. I reach for a towel, dry off, and pull my clothes back on. I stop in the kitchen to grab an energy drink on my way to my office.
Two hours later, there’s a knock on my door, pulling me out of the story. I save the document and walk to the front door, surprised to see Jillian standing there, white plastic bags dangling from her hands and a big grin on her pretty face.
“I’ve come with provisions, per Ty’s orders.”
“What did you bring?” I step back and let her breeze past me, shut the door, and follow her to the kitchen.
“He said you’re writing tonight, and you forget to eat, so he made me bring you some homemade soup from Mrs. King, sandwiches from Mrs. Blakely’s deli, and chocolate-chip cookies that I baked, but don’t get too impressed because they’re the ones you buy in the store and just bake in the oven.”
“Thank you.” I’m amazed at the spread before me. I’m mortified to feel tears gathering in my eyes as I remember how frustrated I was at Ty earlier and how I ran as soon as things got rough. “I wasn’t very nice to him earlier.”
“He’ll be okay.” Jill waves and unpacks her bags. “I know you’re busy, so I’ll get out of your hair. Just eat the soup while it’s hot. The rest will keep until later.”
She kisses my cheek and bustles back toward the door. I hear the door shut behind her.
I take the soup and the plastic spoon that Nancy King remembered to include back to my office and reach for my phone.
Thank you, I text to Ty.
You’re welcome.
I eat the soup quickly, not wanting to lose the momentum of the story and eyeing the clock. I have nine hours to finish.
I flick on the desk lamp, pull my feet up under me in my chair, and dive back into the story. I’m vaguely aware of my phone pinging with incoming texts, but I ignore it and focus on the task at hand.
When I’m in this mode, there is no interrupting me.
I work without moving for the next two hours, until I type the words The End. Then, without a pause, I scroll up the document to the very beginning and read it straight through, looking for typos and awkward words, tweaking here and there until I’m completely happy with it.
There will be edits and revisions after my editor reads it, but for now I’m content knowing that it’s as perfect as I can make it.
I open my e-mail and compose a note to her, attach the book, and send it off, then check the time.
It’s five in the morning here in Montana, so I managed to sneak it in two hours early.
Go me!
I mentally give myself a high five and stand, stretching my arms high above my head and then down to my toes, trying to loosen my muscles.
I should have installed a hot tub long ago, for moments just like this.
I check my phone and see that I’ve missed texts from Cara and Jill. Nothing from Ty.
Cara: I don’t have class until 9 tomorrow. Meet Jill and me at Sips for coffee at 7:30?
And the next one is from Jill an hour later: Meet us for coffee at 7:30 or I’ll come find you!
I chuckle and quickly type a reply, hoping I don’t wake them.
Me: See you there!
I pad into the kitchen and pour myself a glass of celebratory wine, raise the glass in salute, and take a long sip.
I wish Ty were here.
If Ty were here, he’d celebrate with me, most likely while we’re both naked and he’s inside me, rather than with just a glass of wine that tastes like it’s on its way to being stale.
I think about calling him, but then quickly dismiss the idea. He’s probably still asleep, and we have some talking to do before we are okay again.
Taking my glass with me, I turn the kitchen light out, and as I walk toward the stairs, there’s a loud banging on my front door.
I grin to myself. Ty must have decided he couldn’t wait any longer to see me and come over before work.
Without looking out the peephole, I unarm the alarm and swing the door open wide. “I was hoping I’d see you—”