Page 11
Eve
R ing, ring. Ring, ring.
The ringing telephone breaks the deafening silence in the house. A house that always felt empty but now feels cold as well. Brandon and I couldn’t agree on colors to paint the rooms, so most have been left with bare white walls.
Ring, ring.
I want to ignore the jolting sound. It’s Tate. I know it is. I stare at the phone intently, like it’s about to do a magic trick. Every cell in my body is tense and rigid. I’m a coward, too nervous to answer.
Ring, ring.
I close my eyes, swallow down the lump in my throat and swipe my finger across the screen, before bringing the phone to my ear.
“Hello.”
“I was out of line last night,” the gruff voice says, adding to my already jittery nerves. “I’m sorry. ”
I’m glad he realizes it. The problem is, I deserved his outburst. I acted like an ungrateful bitch when all he deserved was a thank you. I still don’t understand why I allowed jealousy to get the best of me.
There’s a long silence. If not for the sound of his breath crossing over the line, I’d think he hung up on me. He didn’t though, and that’s when I realize the silence holds a plethora of unspoken words. I just wish I could figure out what they are.
“Still there?” He asks, causing my stomach to tumble.
“Yes. Tate, I’m so sorry. You were nothing but kind to me and I attacked you without provocation.” I leave out that I tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep because I’m drowning in guilt and embarrassment over my behavior.
“Is that why you sent me a bottle of wine?”
“It’s a thank you for everything you did yesterday.”
“No need to thank me.”
“I want to. Besides, what you choose to do and who you do it with is none of my business.” I’m so glad he can’t see me wringing my hands.
“How’d you know where to send the bottle of wine?”
“I’m not stalking you, I swear. I called the limousine company for your address. They wouldn’t give it to me, but I did get them to agree to deliver the wine to you once I got the bottle to them.”
Another extended silence.
“I hope you can forgive me,” I feel compelled to add because what he isn’t saying is fraying my already shaky nerves .
“I’ll forgive you, as long as you help me drink it.”
“I bought it for you.”
“And I want to share it. I’ll pick you up in half an hour. We can call it a negotiated truce.”
I SWIRL MY FEET IN the cool water and bring the glass of wine to my lips. I know I should stop. I’ve already had two glasses, and they’ve gone straight to my head. So much so, I’m actually enjoying my alone time with Tate. I allow myself to indulge in a few more sips of this decadent treat.
“Why didn’t you accept the offer?” I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me.
Tate shrugs and keeps his eyes glued to the water. “That’s not the life I want.” He sighs, his disappointment seeping into the night air. “Not anymore. You know,” he gives me a sly look. “We’re sitting with our feet in my pool, drinking wine together. Maybe it’s time you told me your name?”
Wow! Just when I start to think he’s not so bad, he proves he’s the same jerk that he was at his nephew’s game. “I can’t believe you forgot!”
He shakes his head. “I didn’t forget; you never told me.”
“Yes I did, when you introduced yourself.”
“Oh,” he smiles, and I think I might have actually forgotten my name. “You mean while you were ripping into me for being rude and accusing me of being a predator. Is that when you think you stopped to tell me your name?”
Way to make me feel like shit for something I’ve already apologized for. Just like Brandon .
“Seriously, if you told me, I would’ve made it a point to remember.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted you to like me. For Teddy’s sake,” he’s quick to add. Of course, he doesn't want to give me the wrong idea.
“Oh my god,” I cover my mouth, mentally replaying our first meeting. “I really was awful, wasn’t I?”
He moves his head from side to side as if he’s weighing my words. “Awful is a little harsh. Difficult is more like it.”
I stare at the blue water in the lighted pool. He’s right. In the moment, I thought I was being protective, but I know I’m difficult. Brandon said that all the time.
“Why’d you get so quiet?”
He brushes my hair off my shoulder with his fingertips. Fingertips I wish would brush against my cheek. Something’s changing between us. Something I can’t put my finger on. It almost feels like we’re becoming friends.
As friends, I shouldn’t enjoy his attention so much. Especially when I know he’s interested in much younger women. Women closer to my daughter’s age than mine.
“In my defense, I don’t try to be difficult.
” I really don’t. I want to use the fact that I didn’t say anything more to him today about the waitress as proof, but he might find a way to use that against me to prove his point.
“I was hit with a lot of news just before we met. It was a lot to process, and when I told her about it, Gemma got mad at me and said I was crazy. ”
“I don’t think you’re crazy.”
“Thank you. And thank you for dragging me along yesterday. I had a surprisingly good time. At Teddy’s rugby game, Gemma made it seem like no one would ever want to be in my presence because I’m too much to deal with. I feel like that’s half the reason I’m being so difficult.”
“I’m glad you came.” He strokes his pinky against my thigh while holding on to the pool coping.
“In my defense,” he uses my words, “when we first met, I might have been too comfortable speaking to your daughter as if I knew her. But I was excited to meet her. Because of Teddy.” Tate clarifies. “He hasn’t stopped talking about her.”
Silence falls on us again. I take another sip, unsure of what to say and well aware, with the way I’m babbling, that this should be my last glass.
“And you still haven’t told me your name.” He quips with a smile that could charm Medusa into giving away her snakes.
“Evelyn.”
“Evelyn.” I melt, hearing my name fall from his lips. “It’s a beautiful name.” He looks down like a shy little boy, then meets my eyes again. “Like you.”
I look at him, stunned for a few breaths. The wine has me under a spell. I almost believe him, especially with the sheepish look on his face. He’s just being kind. There’s no way a man like him would think I’m beautiful. Me, a housewife that’s becoming way too infatuated with him.
“Thank you, but you don’t have to flatter me, Mr. Grimm. The fact that I’m here with you means I’ve forgiven you, and hopefully, you’ve forgiven me as well.”
“I’m not trying to flatter you, Evelyn. I do think you’re beautiful.” He rests his hand on top of mine and gives it a quick squeeze before taking hold of the side of the pool again. “In this light, you can pass for Gemma’s sister.”
“Much older sister.” I flutter my lashes at him sarcastically. He stares at me without saying anything for a beat. Too uncomfortable with the quiet, I break the silence. “Was it a good offer?” I ask to keep the conversation going and regain my footing.
“May I call you Eve?”
I nod. “Yes. That was my nickname when I was young.”
“Was? You don’t like it?”
“I do. Brandon hated it. He only called me Evelyn. But that sounds so stuffy and grown-up to me. Eve makes me feel young and sexy.”
“Good. Because that’s how you should feel.”
“Why don’t you want to talk about what happened yesterday? If you want me to mind my business, just say so,” I hold my hand up. “And I promise I will. Scout’s honor.”
“Somehow, I don’t think you were a boy scout.” Now it’s his turn to look in the water as if it holds some magical power. “Just coming to terms with where I am in life, and it’s not easy. You know?”
He sounds so sad as he shakes his head. I yearn to throw my arms around his shoulders and promise better days. Which is ridiculous since I probably won’t see much more of him unless Gemma stays with his nephew, and, considering their age, a long relationship is unlikely.
“When I finished playing, I’d hoped to get picked up as an analyst. I didn't. This was probably the best offer I’m going to get—just to screw around and act like an imbecile.
But being on the road again.” He shakes his head and tightens his lips.
“Keeping up with something I’m not interested in, it would be all about the money, and that’s not worth it to me.
Playing rugby, I had a purpose.” His voice drips with pride.
“I played hard for my club to win a championship. The Nurples,” he smirks.
“They’re not serious. They’re a fun night out.
That’s all. Don’t get me wrong, it’s great for those guys.
They’re young and . . .” he closes his eyes, “it’s just not for me. ”
He’s not as shallow as I thought. “I don’t know.” I place one hand behind my back and lean into it, holding my wine goblet with the other. “They looked like they enjoyed what they were doing, and they got plenty of female attention. The meet and greet was a madhouse.”
He gives me a crooked smile. Once again revealing the secret sexy side he’s kept hidden under his gloomy, grim facade. Until now. A strange sensation rushes down my spine.
“I knew you liked those shirtless dances.” His foot touches mine in the water, just barely, before he moves it away, heating me up and giving me chills at the same time.
“You wouldn’t be flirting with me, Mr. Grimm, would you?”
“Me? Never.” He feigns insult. “Why would you think that? ”
“Because fishing for a compliment and playing footsie feels a lot like flirting. And you promised,” I take another long sip of wine before continuing, hoping he doesn’t see how much I want him to flirt. “You promised if I came here tonight, it would just be to talk. No flirting. No funny business.”
As much as I want him to be, I know it isn’t likely that he’s flirting, not seriously, at any rate. Why would he when any woman would jump at the chance to be with him? Besides, anything between us would be messy at best and could end badly for everyone. Including the two people we love the most.
“I wasn’t fishing for a compliment, although I’ll be happy to take one.” Again that slight smile that makes me feel like melted butter. “And, no. I’m not flirting.”
“Are you sure about that?” Now I’m the one fishing for a compliment. I look up at him through my lashes. It’s been such a long time since I had the attention of a good-looking man, even friendly attention, and I’m soaking this up.
“If I were flirting with you,” he leans over and whispers in my ear. “You’d be in the pool and out of your clothes with my lips all over you.”