Dedicated to the One I Love, page 12
Yes!
When she opened her eyes, Dylan was next to her, holding a third mug. “I figured I could help you out and hand you the next one.”
“You’re a good friend.”
“No talking. Just throw.”
Kylie took the white mug etched with a large red heart and hurled it at the stucco wall.
Each throw caused her anger to flare like a fire being fed oxygen. Heat burned in her chest, even as her arm ached with the repeated throwing motion. Again. Again. Again.
Maybe by the time the last mug shattered, the flame would be extinguished.
Within fifteen minutes, Kylie’s arm fell to her side. Multi-colored shards of glass littered the ground near the wall. Tears streamed down her face. “He shouldn’t have done it.”
“I don’t think you’re talking about Joe.” Dylan’s words were low.
“No … Andrew shouldn’t have done it.” Kylie brushed away tears that dared to streak her face. “Our vacation wasn’t what we’d hoped. The last year had been hard, and we weren’t talking to each other like we always had.”
“I didn’t know … ”
“We were trying to figure it out. I mentioned counseling once, but he didn’t think we needed that. I was anxious about my book release and the publisher was adding more publicity. And then the hotel called with this last-minute dive. I asked him not to go, but—”
“It was just a horrible accident.” Dylan wrapped her arms around Kylie.
“I’ve told myself that over and over again for three years.” She rested her head on her friend’s shoulder. “How ironic is it that the book I worried about exceeded everyone’s expectations? My husband dies—and it’s my bestseller.”
“I understand why it’s been so hard for you to write again.”
Kylie stepped back and rubbed her sore arm. “I never realized until today how angry I was … how angry I am he went scuba diving that day. His choice made me feel unimportant. Again. A repeat of my childhood—all the times I was overlooked. Andrew wasn’t listening to me … ”
The words caused her throat to ache, as if each one was a small shard of glass she was forced to swallow.
It would have been easier if she’d lied and said she was angry with Joe. But being upset about Joe and his rules was nothing compared to trying to deal with being angry with her dead husband.
Kylie pushed her hair back from her face. “I need to clean this mess up.”
“I’ll help you. But first”—Dylan pulled her into a gentle hug—“admitting you’re angry with Andrew isn’t a sin, Kylie.”
Kylie heaved a sigh. “But it feels wrong.”
“It’s healing. It doesn’t feel like it right now, but it is. All you did was break a few coffee mugs.”
“A few?”
“I didn’t keep count.” Dylan offered her a smile. “I’ll go get a trash bag and the broom. Wait here.”
“I can do that—”
But her friend was already disappearing around the corner of the house. Kylie was left alone with the remnants of her anger. Bits and pieces of dozens of coffee cups she and Andrew had collected through the years she’d destroyed one by one.
She pressed the heel of her hand against her sternum. The burning that had surrounded her heart had lessened.
God, I need to forgive Andrew for choosing scuba diving instead of staying with me that day. He wasn’t abandoning me. I’m just realizing I’ve been angry about that. And about how we bought the house, too, if I’m being honest. Help me untangle the last bit of this grief, please. To release all of the unfinished conversations, all the things I can’t change, once and for all.
…
Kylie shut the door to her office on an inquisitive Remington. After Dylan left, she’d thought and prayed about what she needed to do last night and into today. She didn’t need the distraction of her cat wandering in and out of the room. He peered at her through the lower glass panes before disappearing down the hallway toward the bedroom.
Have a nice nap, Rem.
She opened her laptop, positioning it just so on her desk. Pulled up the app, and then brushed her hair back from her face. Considered touching up her lips with gloss. No. This was a professional call. She wasn’t glamming it up for Joe Edwards.
As soon as he connected, Kylie offered him a smile. “Good morning.”
“Hello.” His eyes held a question. “It goes without saying I wasn’t expecting you to want to talk to me.”
“Element of surprise, right?”
“You could say that.”
She needed to just get on with it. “I want to apologize for walking away from you yesterday. I let my anger get the best of me.”
Joe leaned back in the chair. “Apology accepted.”
“I realized later I wasn’t angry with you.”
“You weren’t?”
“I take that back.” Kylie pressed her hands to the sides of her face. “I was angry about those rules. They’re a bit over the top.”
“I can see why you might think that.” Joe rubbed his hand across his jaw.
“You can? Thanks. I-I wasn’t expecting that.”
“My friends Mallory and Tucker? You met them at the cookout over Memorial Day. Mallory’s a straight talker. She keeps me in line.”
“You told her about sending me the email?”
“Yeah. She wasn’t impressed.”
“Nice to know Mallory’s on my side.”
Joe shook his head. “Don’t go trying to steal my friends, now.”
“Not in the plan at all.” Kylie took a deep breath. “My friend Dylan—she’s known me for years. Knows about all of this. How we met online. How we’re working on a book together.”
“The, um, difficulties we’re having working together?”
“Yes. That’s a diplomatic way to put it.” Kylie glanced away from the laptop screen for a moment. Refocused on Joe. “She came over yesterday. We talked, and I came to a realization.”
“That you weren’t angry with me—but then you just admitted you were.”
“Yes and yes.” Kylie laughed. “I was angrier with Andrew.”
“Andrew … your husband?” Joe’s eyebrows knit together.
Kylie thought this conversation would be better face-to-face, but she wasn’t about to drive up to Joe’s unannounced, so the virtual call seemed like the best option. But now that it was happening, her honesty was making things awkward. Again.
She clenched her hands together beneath her desk, praying Joe didn’t see the tension on her face. Either this succeeded, and she and Joe figured out how to work together, or she was done, done, done with this project and her next call was to Shannon.
“Yes, my husband, Andrew. It’s been three years since he died, but I had some lingering anger. He died right before my last book released.”
“I remember reading about that. I’m sorry.” Joe’s voice had gentled.
“Thank you. The year before he died had been stressful for our marriage. I-I don’t know why I’m telling you this.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “There are times I still struggle with how things were left unresolved between us … ”
“I see.”
“He chose to go scuba diving even when I asked him not to. I know my husband loved me, but I was hurt. We argued and never talked things out … ”
“I can understand how you’d feel that way, Kylie.”
She exhaled a slow breath. “Somehow, you sending those rules tapped into some of the same feelings I had toward Andrew. I’m still trying to unpack that. But I want to apologize and ask you to forgive me.”
“Of course.”
This part of the conversation was like picking up half a dozen orange caution cones along the highway, but she could still see more cones lining the road ahead.
Kylie forced herself to release her hands and flexed her fingers. Now to see if Joe would handle her suggestion for their writing together as well as he’d accepted her apology.
“I’m still hoping we can work together on Lethal Strike. I love the story and the opportunity to add romance to it.”
“Thanks. I hope we can work together too.”
“I had an idea of something we could use in the story. A suggestion I’d like you to consider.”
“I’m curious to hear what you have to say.” Joe sounded sincere.
“There’s no denying there’s been some tension between Veronica Hollins and Tate Merrick—”
Joe laughed. “If we tried to deny it, that kid’s video tells the true story.”
“Agreed. Have you checked the traction on that thing lately?” Kylie waved the suggestion away. “Why don’t we play up that dynamic between Remington and Evangeline?”
“You mean, have them clash?”
“It would certainly add tension to the story.”
Joe snorted. “No argument there.”
“It’s still a romance—it’s just a why not/why romance.”
“Meaning?”
“A why not/why. There are reasons against them falling in love—the why not—and then I build in reasons why they fall in love.”
“Oh. Got it.”
“You get it, but are you for it?”
“I love the idea.”
“You do?”
“Yes. One hundred percent.”
This phone call had gone better than she’d expected. Maybe her apology had smoothed the way for Joe to be open to her suggestion. He was relaxed. All Joe—not a hint of Tate Merrick in his demeanor. She liked Joe Edwards. She could work with him.
“I have only one request.” Kylie could only hope Joe would agree to this final suggestion.
“What’s that?”
“We keep the relationship tension on the page—between Remington and Evangeline.”
“You want Tate and Veronica to declare a truce?”
“I want to finish this book, and I think you do too. We can’t write together if we’re fighting all the time. A truce is mandatory, wouldn’t you agree?”
“It is.”
“Truce?” Kylie offered him a smile.
“Truce.”
“Whew.” Kylie leaned back against her chair. “I feel better already.”
With a little compromise, she and Joe would work together. Tension eased out of her, leaving her limp. She had lots to do today, not the least of which was writing, but all she wanted was to crawl into bed next to Remington and nap.
“When do we start?” Kylie forced herself to sit up straight, to ignore the desire for a nap.
“The sooner, the better, right?”
“Agreed.”
“And we still need to avoid the public.”
“Agreed.”
“I can come to your place tomorrow—”
“You came here yesterday.”
“I know I did.” He offered her a grin. “But we didn’t write, did we?”
“No, we didn’t. But I think it’s best if we give ourselves a break and let the truce get a good foothold. How about next Wednesday?”
There was a slight pause. “Sounds fair. What time works for you?”
“How about eleven o’clock? I’ll provide lunch. Do you like tacos?”
“Yep.”
“Then I’ll make my award-winning tacos—”
“Award-winning?”
“You’ll taste them next week and decide for yourself.”
Things were relaxed between them, and they had seven days to put yesterday’s misstep behind them. A warm glint of laughter shone in Joe’s blue eyes. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed Joe.
CHAPTER 12
Hi, Kylie. I’ll see you at eleven. Quick question: How many tacos do Americans eat annually? Joe
Joe anchored his feet to the welcome mat positioned on Kylie’s front stoop. Today would go better than when he was here a week ago. He rapped on the wooden door, curving his mouth into a smile when Kylie greeted him.
“I come in peace.” Joe held out a bouquet of daisies. “I have it on good authority that daisies are friendly flowers.”
His pronouncement earned him a laugh as Kylie took the flowers and pressed the white blooms to her nose. “Who told you that?”
“My sister Abbie.”
“She must be a fan of You’ve Got Mail. The heroine, Kathleen Kelly, believes daisies are the friendliest flowers.”
“If that’s a rom-com, then you’re probably right about Abbie being a fan.” Joe tucked his hands in his jean pockets. “I’m more of an action movie fan.”
“And why am I not surprised?” She stepped back. “Thank you for these. Why don’t you come in.”
He paused. “For the record, I want to say that the person standing before you is Joe Edwards, not Tate Merrick. I’d be happy to show you identification to prove it.”
Kylie’s musical laugh was worth the joke. “The daisies prove your intentions are honorable. Come on in, Joe.”
A cat lounging on the couch gave him a lazy stare. “Is this Remington, the cat I’ve heard so much about? We weren’t properly introduced last time I was here—my fault, entirely.”
Joe would be on his best behavior today.
“Yes, the cat named after your hero. He’s not much of a risk-taker, preferring to take naps to tackling villains.”
“Cats aren’t known for being heroic.”
“He’s very loyal—for a cat. He pretends he’s not.”
Joe sniffed the air. “Something smells delicious. Your award-winning tacos, I assume?”
“Correct. Along with refried beans and guacamole. Are you hungry or do you want to work?”
“Tacos, please.” Joe rubbed his hands together. “We can eat, work, and then have seconds, right?”
His comment earned him another laugh from Kylie. A nice beginning to the day. He needed to thank Abbie for suggesting the flowers. He would have just shown up with a can of Pepsi. He needed to listen to his sister more often.
Kylie sniffed the bouquet again as he followed her to the pale-yellow kitchen. Joe’s main goal was to remember they’d declared a truce. Any tension stayed on the page, between their fictional characters.
Once she’d arranged the daisies in a vase and centered them on the kitchen island, Kylie served up lunch, ushering him to the table on her back deck. It didn’t take long for Joe to finish off his third taco and push away. “And with that, I’ll stop.”
“You’re full?”
“I’m not a glutton, but I put a good dent into the four and a half billion tacos Americans eat annually.”
“Joe! You didn’t let me answer the question.” Kylie pretended to pout.
“Sorry. That just slipped out. I’ll be more careful in the future. And for the record, your tacos are some of the best I’ve had.”
Kylie’s face tinged with pink. “I’m glad you like them.”
“That’s an understatement. The guacamole is just as good. I’ll be glad to hit the gym tomorrow.”
“You go to a gym?”
“Mallory, Tucker, and I like to do Cross Fit. And I love to hike.” Joe wiped his hands with a napkin. “What about you?”
“My friend Dylan is always pushing our group of friends—there are four of us—to try something new. Right now, we’re trying barre classes. I also like to paddleboard, although it’s been a while since I’ve done that.”
“Was that something you and your husband used to do?”
“Yes. That and kayaking. Andrew loved being outdoors. I tried to keep up, but he did a lot with his buddies, which was great, especially when I was on deadline.”
“You’re not outdoorsy?”
“I am, but not as much as Andrew was. A hike? Yes. Camping in the winter? Never did that. He went BASE jumping. I did not. I like snorkeling, he liked … ”
“Scuba diving.”
Kylie stood and gathered their dishes, averting her gaze. “I took the classes. Did a few dives. It just wasn’t my thing.”
“The best couples learn to adjust to one another, don’t you think?”
“I do.”
“What do I know? I’ve never been married.” He gathered up their glasses and followed Kylie to the kitchen. “It’s not like I have any real expertise.”
Did declaring a truce demand they talk about personal topics like what made a good marriage?
Kylie opened a cabinet, oddly empty except for three porcelain teacups. It wasn’t his business if Kylie only had three teacups. They’d declared a truce, not promised to share all their idiosyncrasies with one another.
“You want coffee?” Kylie paused, her hand on one of the cups.
“No. I’m good. I’ll just get some more water.”
“Water sounds good.” She closed the cupboard and retrieved two water bottles from the fridge. “Ready to go discuss our book?”
He tamped down his instant resistance to the word our. They’d declared a truce. He needed to think of Lethal Strike as their book, not as his book. He could do this.
Joe followed Kylie to the deck again. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“Let me get set up here.” Kylie slipped into the seat across from him, opening her laptop.
Joe half rose. “Wait. Should I go get my laptop?”
“I’m a fanatic about note-taking. Right now, we’re just brainstorming. When it gets down to writing, then you’ll need your laptop.”
“Okay. What were you thinking?”
“You said you’d never been married.”
It was as if his single status was pulled under a microscope and magnified. Did he want to continue this conversation?
“Right.” He nodded. “I was almost engaged.”
“Almost?”
“I had the ring. According to Abbie it was a stunner.” Joe cleared his throat. “I, um, never got to propose to Cassidy because she eloped with some other guy. You may have read about that on social media.”
