Wild Side (Rose Hill, #3)(48)

I shrug. “No excuses.”

Her eyes widen, almost comically, but I figure, what’s the point in beating around the bush? I meant what I said last night, and given the opportunity, I’d put my hands down Tabitha Garrison’s dress over and over again.

The problem is, deep down, I suspect she still hates me. At least a little. She believes I’ve done something unforgivable, and I’ve made no move to correct her. When I decided to give her someone to blame for her sister’s death, I didn’t expect to end up here.

Married to her and feeling like this.

She clears her throat, signaling a change in the conversation, as Cleocatra curls herself up in my lap, like a fuzzy cinnamon bun. “Well, the reason I’m tired is I stayed up all night watching wrestling.”

My head snaps up. “Come again?”

She shrugs and tucks her feet under herself. “What? It’s entertaining.”

I stare blankly at her, figuring out how I feel about this and how I should respond.

Another shrug. “And I was curious.”

I search for tones of mockery in her voice, but they don’t come. She’s not laughing at me. But she stayed up all night watching WPW. I just…

Now her head joggles. “And it’s kind of addictive.”

Tabitha enjoying wrestling was not on my bingo card.

“You know who fuckin’ sucks?” Before I can guess, she continues. “Million Dollar Bill. I can’t believe that guy has your belt. What an absolute tool.”

I blink, dumbfounded. “Tabitha.”

She tips her nose up with a light sniffle, as though too proud to look embarrassed by having taken a deep dive into my job. “What? It’s true. Brass knuckles? If that clown sends you back bruised again, I’ll beat his ass myself.”

I bark out an unexpected laugh. I’m not surprised by much anymore, but I am surprised by this.

Her head tilts. “I’ve never heard you laugh.”

I absently pet the cat, just for something to do with my hands. “It’s been a heavy couple of months.”

Tabitha nods, but there’s a soft smile on her face, a flush on her cheeks. “Well, I’m not joking. Watching you lose was infuriating. I’d like to speak to the writers about where the hell they’re taking your storyline. I have notes.”

I laugh again, and fuck, it feels good. Not just to laugh, but to share. It’s a strange sensation, having someone on your team. It’s causes an unfamiliar tingling in my chest. “Great, I’ll let them know my wife would like to speak to them. They’ll love that.”

Her lips roll as she struggles to bite down on a laugh. “Good.” Then she waves a pointed finger over me. “And don’t start smiling like that too much.”

I didn’t even realize I was smiling. “Why not?”

“Because there are fans flapping posters around in the audience asking you to father their children. Women around the world will combust if you hit them with that.”

“Wow, one day of marriage and the rules are already coming out in full force. Sorry, I can only smile at my wife,” I joke.

“Okay, well, you can obviously smile at whoever you want. Just not here,” she qualifies, voice squeaking ever so slightly. “Like not where people we know would think that…”

“Think what?”

Tabitha sighs, tugging the blanket more tightly around her shoulders. “I’m not stupid.” Her voice comes out more hushed now. “I don’t expect you to act like we’re married when you’re away. But if we can keep up appearances in and around town, I’d appreciate it.”

Realization dawns on me. “I’m not gonna do that to you.”

I get a scoff and an eye roll. “Please, I’m sure I haven’t inspired a lot of warm and fuzzy feelings. I know I’ve been harsh and demanding, but I promise I’m doing my best to move on. I don’t want things to be like that between us. I just…I don’t know how to act around you. And I’m fucking terrible about holding grudges.”

It’s one of the most vulnerable moments we’ve ever shared. One of the most honest things she’s ever told me. The truth is, I don’t know how to act around her either. She makes me nervous in unfamiliar ways. Still, I feel the need to reassure her. To lay it all out in black and white. To wipe the strained expression off her face. I lean forward, propping my elbows on my knees, ducking my chin just low enough to be at eye level with her.

“Tabby, I’m not the kind of guy who fucks around. So you can make up all the rules you want, but I’ll be following my own. And that rule is that there won’t be anyone else while I’m wearing this ring.”

She sucks in a breath and swallows.

I don’t know what she’s about to say, and I’ll never find out because Milo’s voice interrupts through the monitor with a dopey, “Hello?” and she fucking dashes for the door.





CHAPTER 23


Tabitha





I FUMBLE THE ROSE HIP BETWEEN MY FINGERS WHEN I HEAR Milo’s sugary voice behind me. “Tell me a story,” he says to Rhys.

With a day off from the restaurant, I’d told Rhys that Milo and I were going to pick rose hips for my winter tea blend. To my surprise, he hit me with the most earnest puppy dog eyes in the world and asked, “Can I come?”