Tyler
I GLARED AT the piece of paper with ‘Party Boy’ written on it in pink marker.
Tabitha had labeled the guest bathroom as mine. This was out of hand. After I showered, I dressed in one of my finest suits and decided it was time to put an end to this bullshit.
But then I thought twice about taking that approach.
Hmmm . . .
Before I headed downstairs, I grabbed the piece of paper and found the marker Tabitha had used. Since there was no way to rewind time, I decided not to be barbaric and go after Paris in a more dazzling way.
I could be debonair.
I could woo her.
Throwing her over my shoulder caveman style was, of course, my first instinct, but using my charm was the better route. And it was going to win her over in an instant.
I just hit the landing when the front double doors swung wide open and two men in blue jumpsuits came through with boxes in their arms. “Hey,” I asked, “What do you have?”
One of the guys hoisted a box on his shoulder. “Some poor dude’s shit from San Francisco.”
Poor dude?
I read the label. “Party boy’s boxer briefs.”
Hey, wait, that was my underwear!
I read the box the guy behind him was carrying. “Party boy’s condoms.”
Anger surged and my fists clenched. First of all, I didn’t have an entire box worth of condoms and second of all . . .”Tabitha,” I hollered.
Her heels clicked on the floor as she pranced into the foyer from the living room. “Yes, Tyler, did you need something?”
I pointed to the moving crew. “Why do they have all of my shit?”
She batted her eyelashes. “Why Tyler, I do believe you live here now, so there’s no need to keep the additional expense of a bachelor pad when you have a wife to feed.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “You know I already sold the penthouse.”
Her hands clapped together. “Then there shouldn’t be any problems with me helping you out with the move.”
“Where’s Paris? I need to talk to her.” I huffed in frustration.
“She’s in the den but has asked not to be disturbed.”
I shook my head.
Seriously?
“I’m on my way out. I have to go home and pump before our meeting. Don’t forget about it. I’ll see you at eleven.” She smiled with a wave.
Ummm . . . that was more than I needed to know.
“Wouldn’t dream of forgetting.” I smiled back.
I watched her weave in and out of the movers and when she was finally gone, I knew right where I was headed.
I needed to talk to my wife. Alone. Not with her bulldog attorney, Tabitha, goading her the entire way.
The start of an engine indicated she was about to leave the premises and I marched right down the hall and burst through the wooden doors only to come to an immediate halt.
Paris was embracing Wilhelmina and they were obviously sharing a private moment.
“Did you forget how to knock?” Wilhelmina asked.
Anger surged through my veins. I needed to be the one to explain my situation to my wife, not my grandmother. “No, I just didn’t realize my wife was in here with someone, and I needed to speak to her, alone.” I practically growled the words.
Wilhelmina gave me a quick nod. “Yes, of course you do. I’ll give the two of you time to discuss whatever it is that needs discussing.”
I shot her a narrowed gaze as she walked past me. The door closed and I locked it before striding over to Paris and pulling the piece of paper from my pocket. I handed it to her.
Her hair fell in perfect waves over her shoulders and I wanted to tug on it and kiss the smooth column of her neck as I did. “What’s this?” she asked.
I felt a bit ridiculous even saying it. “I wrote you a love note.”
She took it from me and without even looking at it, she tore it into pieces.
“Hey,” I protested. “I put a lot of effort into that.”
She smacked her lips. “That was the same paper Tabitha used to designate which bathroom was yours, so I doubt it took much effort.”
“Okay, maybe not, but haven’t you ever heard of it’s the thought that counts?”
Paris collapsed onto the wingback chair near the window.
“Are you okay?” I asked her, concern filtering through all my pissed-offness.
“Just tired,” she sighed. “I haven’t been sleeping well. You wanted to talk to me?”
I stared intently at her, my gaze flickering over her face and then back up to hold her eyes. “You know I didn’t fuck Sophie.”
“Yes,” she said. “I’m aware you didn’t fuck anyone else while being married to me. Thank you so much for that.”
Okay, so this isn’t going well.
“Tabitha explained the entire situation to me last night.”
Paris was a total knockout with or without Tabitha’s little makeovers, but I had to admit the dress she was wearing today was pure sin. She was wrapped tightly in a little black number that crossed over her chest and made her tits look . . . edible.
Fuck.
The only thing that bothered me was the fact that she appeared dehydrated. With my hands in my pockets, I strode over to the small bar. “Then what’s this addendum about?”
She sighed again. “We got off track, Tyler. The reason we got married was to save our wineries.”
I pulled a bottle of mineral water from the mini refrigerator. “Yes, but you know there’s more to us than business.”
Her ring sparkled in the sunlight and reminded me that I still hadn’t gotten myself one. “What I know is that we need to get back on that business track and stay there,” she said.
Striding over to her, I unscrewed the top and handed her the bottle. “Here, drink this,” I told her. “You look peaked. Too much wine for the party girl?”
Shaking her head, she reached for it. “Not enough,” she smirked.
I frowned. I didn’t like that at all.
She took the bottle from me and her fingers trembled as she did. “You look nervous having me so close,” I mused. “I won’t bite, Paris. Not in here, anyway. Promise.”
Her head shook as she swallowed. “Business, Tyler. Let’s keep our focus there.”
I blinked at her. “Seriously? I made one screwup and you’re going to crucify me for it?”
She set the bottle on the table beside her. “No, I’m not. You are who you are and I accept that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
With a shrug, she crossed one long leg over the other.
I knelt in front of her and placed my palms on her silk-covered knees. Fuck, I wondered if those hose were held up by garters? I really wanted to take a peek. Shit, she probably wouldn’t like that. “You don’t believe I’ve changed. Do you?”
She shivered under the heat of my touch. “No, I don’t, but I’m okay with it.”
I let my hands linger a moment longer. “That’s bullshit. I have changed, or I’m trying to.”
Her deep green stare found mine. “If it makes you feel better, I think you’re incapable of change and I’ve decided to accept that.”
I got to my feet and started pacing. “No, it doesn’t, but if that’s the case, then why the sudden change in our marital status?”
She glanced out the window. “Believe it or not, Tyler, the addendum isn’t only about you. It’s about me, too. I’ve spent my entire life being someone else. A replacement for my dead sister. A stand-in for my dad at the office when he became incompetent. A party girl to gain friendships. A fake girlfriend to Henri. A temporary wife to you. Right now I need time to figure me out for me. And I need space to do that.”
Shit.
Fuck.
What was I supposed to say to that?
After taking another sip of water, she looked at me. “However, before we completely redirect, I would like to know what Wilhelmina had to say, if you don’t mind sharing?”
I stopped pacing and glared at her. “Don’t play with me, Paris. I don’t like it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Are you going to sit there and pretend Wilhelmina didn’t just spill her guts to you?”
Her lips twisted in anger and her eyes narrowed. “The only thing she said to me was that she was sorry for my loss, which is more than you’ve said.”
I stalked over to her and leaned down. “That’s not true, I told you I was sorry. Fuck, I spent the entire day yesterday trying to find you so I could be there for you. What more do you want from me?”
Tears shone in her eyes and she leaned back, putting distance between us. I didn’t like it. I wanted her to reach for me and pull me closer. Let me comfort her. “Wilhelmina and I did not discuss anything more. I would never betray your trust like that, Tyler. Not ever.”
I gave up the tirade about yesterday and fell into the chair beside her. The one with a table between us that acted as a barrier, preventing me from reaching over and pulling her onto my lap as I told her everything.
About Corky.
Audrey.
Wilhelmina.
And London.
I stared intently at her, trying to gauge her response when I explained London’s crazy behavior and the information I had learned that led to her death.
Paris’s features crinkled in anguish as I spoke. I tried to keep my voice even and stay to the facts, not allowing any inflection in my tone to taint the story. The truth was, I didn’t feel any hatred. The girl I spoke of was Paris’s sister and because of that, I wanted to remain respectful.
My gaze flickered over her face and then back up to hold her eyes when I finished. “You know that is only one side of the story? Right?”
“I know,” she whispered. “But it sounds a lot like the truth.”
After I shrugged, I leaned forward and placed my elbows on my knees. “Who knows?” I said. “But I want to be clear that what happened in the past is their past and that their story will in no way affect our future.”
She wiped a tear away and nodded.
I took a deep breath and went on. Telling her about Audrey was easier than telling her about London.
Breaking her own rules, she reached over and grabbed my hand. “Are you okay with all this?”
I could have played it out, garnering her sympathy and using that chance to change her mind about me.
I could have.
But I didn’t.
I wanted her to come to the realization that she was made for me on her own. “Believe it or not, I am. Knowing any of it doesn’t change who I am.”
Her brows popped. “No drunken binge after you found out?”
I shook my head back and forth. “Not even a drop of whiskey.”
She bit her lip and looked at me. “Honestly?”
I nodded.
She seemed contemplative.
This woman filled my heart in a way nothing in my life ever had. “You want me. I can see it in your eyes.” It slipped out. Inappropriate or not, I had to put it out there.
She yanked her hand back. “No, Tyler. That part of us has to be over. We need to focus on producing wine, period.”
Finding this conversation over, I got to my feet and glanced down. It was hard to ignore the way her pulse throbbed in her throat, but I did. “I will win you back,” I told her as I strode for the door.
“I don’t think you have the patience for that,” she murmured before I opened the door and walked out.
Oh, she had no idea that patience was about to become my biggest virtue.