Page 20 of An Ex Affair

Tully backed away, clutching the plate to her midsection. Her eyes lit up right before one hand came up in the air, middle finger extended. I barked out a laugh. She spun away from me, but I caught the smile I’d always loved. She was almost out the door leading out to the truck bays when I opened my mouth one more time.

“Hey, Tully.”

She spun back around, back against the door, eyebrows raised.

“I have one question my therapist could never help me with. Clearly you became famous and had a successful career.” At her nod to continue, I did, dreading the answer as much as those first days after our divorce when I’d come home from work and Tully was gone. “Are you happy?”

She took a few moments to inhale deeply while my heart rattled in my chest. When she answered me, she was staring down at that plate of cookies. “I thought I was.”

And then she was gone, taking her scent with her. I stood in the same spot for several long minutes, absorbing everything that had gone down between us since she came back to town.

I thought I was.

That answer haunted me. Part of me wanted to cheer and pat my beaten-down pride on the back that maybe she had regrets about leaving me. A bigger part of me grieved that answer right along with her. I loved Tully once, loved her with everything I had. Which meant I wanted her happy, even if she wasn’t with me.

“Heard the fuckin’ Keebler elves are handing out cookies.”

I spun on my heel to see Warrick coming from down the other hallway in his fancy pants. The man had some obsession with designer jeans that didn’t fit in with Blueball. His wife, Em, had been trying to get him to wear Wranglers, but it was a losing battle. “What are you doing here?”

He didn’t bother to address my not-so-friendly greeting. He was used to it. “Was that Tully I saw driving out of here?” He pointed over his shoulder. Ah, I got it now. He was just here snooping. Mom probably sent him.

I nodded, not trusting myself to say anything else on the subject of my ex-wife.

Warrick clapped me on the shoulder. “Were you trying to get back in her pants with your baking skills? Really? That was your big move after nineteen years?”

I shrugged off his hand, not at all in the mood to listen to his shit. “No, fuckhead. I tackled her in the mud. That was my big move.”

Warrick studied me, trying to figure out if I was joking or not. He finally shook his head and tried to blink away the confusion.I wasn’t going to help clarify. It was none of his goddamn business.

“Well, I’m glad you’re trying something. Dad would be proud you’re settling things,” he finished in a soft voice.

I snorted. “Pretty sure the divorce papers settled everything.”

Warrick clapped me again on the shoulder. This time I glared at him until he removed his hand. “Yeah, right. You’re still in love with the woman, even after nineteen years.”

“No, I’m not,” I snapped back, finding the idea ridiculous. Tully had shattered my heart, my dreams, the very person I was at twenty-three. My pride has taken a similar beating. Do you know how humiliating it was to have the girl you’d been with all through high school and married at eighteen leave your ass? Or the absolute rage that would fuck up my day when I happened to pass a television and there she was? In all her Hollywood glory having a perfect little fucking life without me?

I certainly wasn’t in love with Tully.

I wanted to hate her.

Warrick leaned in so close I could count the gray hairs that had been added to his beard since Vivi was born. “Then why haven’t you gotten your tattoo removed?”

My hand, the one with the aforementioned tattoo, shot out, shoving him away from me. He didn’t put up a fight, just threw his hands in the air and walked out of the fire station without a backward glance.

“Why are older brothers such dickweeds?” I asked out loud. The empty fire station didn’t answer me.

I grabbed an apple from the fruit basket we kept on the counter at all times. I bit into it, juice soaking into my mustache as I chomped away. Energy crackled underneath my skin as I paced the fire station. Maybe I’d grab some of the guys and wash the rig again. Anything was better than sitting around withnothing to do but run down memory lane. Having Tully back in town was messing with my head.

I opened the door to the bay where the guys were shooting the shit. “Danny! Frank! You’re on car wash duty with me!” They grumbled, but immediately cut it off when they saw the caged animal in my eyes. Those fuckers ate my cookies, they could wash the damn rig. And hopefully, they’d keep my mind off Tully.

CHAPTER NINE

Tully

Midlife crises were tiring.Didn’t help that some of that exhaustion was from straining my ears to hear if Colson came home last night. Now that I knew he lived on the property, I couldn’t help but flick glances back to the roofline of the carriage house that I could see from my bedroom at Mom’s house. Every time a car drove past the front of our property, I poked my head up to see if it was Colson’s black truck coming down the drive. It did not escape my notice that my behavior was reminiscent of all those years in high school when I held my breath until Colson appeared. This time however, there was a lot more trepidation mixed with the excitement.

Mom was eating a bowl of oatmeal when I finally dragged myself out of bed and forced myself into a pair of jeans and a clean shirt. I had a meeting with Emmerleigh at a house she was building right along the coastline for some famous guy moving to Blueball. She’d texted me to see if I’d come by and give her some ideas for higher-end renovations, since that was right up my alley.

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