Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
That restroom is thankfully open, and I go in to do my business. After washing my hands and drying them, then checking my makeup and popping in a breath mint, I exit the restroom and make my way to the staircase that leads up. Just as I raise my foot to take the first step, I see something from the corner of my eye. Pivoting to the large sectional sofa in front of the TV, I see Tacker sitting by himself, staring blankly at the darkened screen.
My first instinct is to ignore him and head upstairs, only because I’ve been told how much he doesn’t like interacting with people. I don’t want to make things awkward for him or cause him distress.
But there’s something about the slump to his shoulders and the slightly haunted expression on his face that has me reconsidering. It’s like looking at myself four weeks ago, and I recognize something of myself within him.
I make my way around the long side of the sectional sofa until I come into his view. He blinks at me in surprise, then just stares.
We had not actually been introduced yet, so I take the moment to step up to him and hold my hand out with a bright smile. “We haven’t met yet. I’m Regan.”
Tacker raises his hand to give mine a brief shake. “Dax’s girlfriend.”
I can tell by the flat tone of his voice that this conversation is not welcome.
I’m not welcome.
For the life of me, I can’t think of one interesting thing to say that could engage this taciturn, withdrawn man.
Except…
“I’m not his girlfriend. I’m his wife.”
Tacker’s large body physically jerks at my proclamation, his eyebrows flying upward. He doesn’t say a word, but he can’t hide the interest I find within his eyes.
“Actually, I’m quite ill,” I say in another surprising burst of honesty. “I have paroxysmal nocturnal hemoglobinuria. It’s a deadly blood disease. Dax married me so I could be put on his health insurance because there’s a lifesaving treatment, but it’s over four-hundred-thousand dollars a year to get it.”
I cock my head at him expectantly, hoping what I have said is enough to make a connection. Why I feel the need to do this I have no clue, other than I guess I just feel sorry for somebody who seems so lost. Perhaps forming a bond with someone—no matter how tenuous—will give him some sense of belonging.
Tacker remains silent so I say, “No one knows what I just told you. It’s a secret. Well, some people know. Dax. His family. Bishop. I think Erik and Legend know we’re married. And now you. But that’s it.”
“Why tell me?” Tacker mutters, and I’m overjoyed upon hearing those three words.
I take it as an invitation to keep talking, moving next to him on the couch. Shrugging my shoulders, I explain, “You just kind of look like a guy who doesn’t go around telling secrets.”
Tacker snorts. “Unlike you, who clearly has no problem with dropping all kinds of secrets.”
I grin. “It’s my secret to tell so I get to choose who knows it.”
Tacker regards me unblinkingly. Not a flicker of emotion on his face.
“Want to tell me a secret in return?” I ask. “As a means of returning trust?”
I don’t expect a response. My energy for engaging this man is starting to fizzle as he has proved to be perhaps too reluctant to overcome.
The silence gets a little awkward, and I consider standing up to leave when sweet words come out of his mouth. “I’ve been ordered to do therapy by the team. If I don’t do it, they’re going to cut me loose permanently. I need to give them an answer by tomorrow.”
My heart is hammering over the unexpected admission. There’s no doubt it’s a secret that no one else knows. I nod in understanding and sympathy. “I’m sorry about what happened to your fiancée. I remember when it happened, and I can’t even imagine going through that.”
His face softens minutely, and he murmurs, “Thank you.”
Tacker’s gaze slides off to the side, and I feel like we’re losing the connection.
“So are you going to do the therapy?” I blurt out.
His eyes snap to mine. “Don’t really want to.”
“Why not?”
I get a mirthless laugh in return that comes out more like a staccato grunt. “Pretty sure I’m going to have to talk about my feelings, and that’s sort of not my thing.”
“And look where that’s gotten you,” I point out.
Tacker stares at me blankly for just a moment before his head tilts back and he lets out a long, deep-bellied laugh.
At that same moment, Dax comes trotting down the stairs, obviously searching for me. What he finds is me sitting with Tacker, who is laughing with deep amusement. Dax’s jaw drops slightly as his eyes roam back and forth between Tacker and me. I grin at him, clearly pleased at my breakthrough.