Page 68 of Firecracker

“No,” she finally said.

His frown eased into a look of puzzlement. Then he lifted her away from him and sat back.

She pushed her hair off her face, not taking her eyes off his. “What?”

“You’re not ready.”

“I am,” she said. “I’m so ready.” She squeezed her thighs together.

Again his lips twitched. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh.” She blinked. Then she sighed. “It’s not that I’m not ready. It’s that…I don’t want to get into a relationship again. I’m not good at that.”

Tyler’s forehead pulled into a perplexed crease. For a moment he didn’t speak. Then he said, “Why would you say that? I mean, I know your husband died, but Jamie saidhewas an asshole.”

She swallowed. “It’s a long, ugly story.” She peered at him through her eyelashes. “He committed suicide.”

Tyler’s eyes flew open. “Jesus. No.”

“Yes.” She closed her eyes. This was the last thing she wanted to talk about when all she really wanted to do was jump back into Tyler’s lap and do the wild thing.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t know that.”

“Jamie didn’t tell you?”

“No. He hinted that things weren’t great for you, even apart from your husband dying, but he didn’t share the details.”

She bent her head, letting her hair fall over her face. “It’s a long, painful, humiliating story.”

“You don’t have to talk about it. But if you want to, I’m here.”

This wasn’t a story she wanted to tell anyone, but for some reason the words started pouring out of her. “Michael played football for the Cardinals.”

“Yeah.”

“We lived big, enjoying his money. His fame. We hung out with other players and their wives and girlfriends, and other celebrities in Phoenix. We went to expensive restaurants and clubs. We bought a big, beautiful house with a pool. We had parties and entertained a lot. I sort of wanted to work, but Michael made a lot of money, so I didn’t have to. I did some volunteer work that made me feel a little useful.”

Tyler picked up the throw from the floor and once more wrapped it around her, pulling her back into his arms.

She snuggled in, head still bent. “Michael got injured a few years into his career. He couldn’t play football anymore. He was lost at first, but then he found a job selling real estate. He enjoyed it, and he made some money, but…we kept living the same lifestyle we always had. Ugh. This is the embarrassing part. I had no idea we didn’t have as much money as we used to. He acted like he was making tons of sales, and money wasn’t an issue. I had no idea he was going into debt so we could keep the house and the cars and the trips. I didn’t know he hadn’t filed our taxes for years.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.” She pulled in a breath and let it out slowly, resting her cheek on Tyler’s strong chest. “I found out when they were apparently going to arrest him for tax evasion. He…that was when he took his own life.”

“Oh Christ, Arden.” His arms squeezed her tighter. “Jesus Christ.

She gave a tiny nod. “That was bad enough, of course, losing my husband like that. I didn’t find him, if you’re wondering that. He drove himself out into the desert and did it. Put a gun in his mouth.” Her heart quivered at the thought. She’d spent months imagining what he’d been going through to take that final, fatal step. Images of Michael’s last hours haunted her dreams and kept her awake at night, while guilt and grief, anger and self-hatred twisted in her belly.

“The police came and told me. Then I found out even more about how bad things were financially. The money we owed. There was no way to keep the house, even if I got a job. I had to sell it to pay off the debts. It took a year to get everything settled, with lawyers involved. Then of course they took a fuck-ton of money in legal fees. With what little was left, I packed up and moved here.”

“I don’t even know what to say.” He rubbed his jaw over her hair. “I’m so sorry, Arden.”

“Thank you. It was a rough time.” That was a major understatement, but she wasn’t going for pity here. “There was more than that, of course. Being a widow was bad. The money issues were horrible. I discovered what a spoiled princess I really was.”

“Fuck. I’m sorry…when I called you that I had no idea…”

“I know.” She sighed. “I know. It just hit close to home. I had no idea what to do, how to deal with things. Michael handled all our finances, paid all the bills. All I did was go shopping with his credit card. I was such a fool.”

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