“Tommy. I’m so sorry.”
“All I can do now is move forward.” He nudged her with his shoulder. “A wise woman once told me that.”
“Don’t think you’re going to get out of dinner with flattery.”
He grinned. She always knew the right thing to say. “Not working, huh?”
“Nope.”
“It was worth a shot.”
She shook her head. “I’d show you to your room, but you already know where it is. So I don’t see the point. You know where everything is. Make yourself at home.”
Home.
No. This wasn’t his home. It was Julie’s. The entire house breathed her.
He left her standing in the living room and strolled down the hall, past her room, then into the guest room. Now, his room. Dropping the bags on the bed, he glanced around. This room wasn’t as decorated, at least. Didn’t feel so much like Julie as every other room in the house did. The walls were light beige and went well with the white and blue paisley comforter. Two glossy black end tables matched the head-and footboard of the bed.
Another flat-screen, though much smaller, sat on top of the dresser.
She appeared and leaned against the doorjamb. “Good thing I bought that TV a few months ago when Mom came to stay, or you’d be SOL. I don’t share the remote.”
“I don’t mind suffering through your shows.”
“Really? You’d watch Real Housewives with me?”
He grimaced. He’d forgotten about that one. Julie was a reality TV junkie.
She snickered at his expression. “I may just make you watch it with me now.”
“My worst nightmare.”
“Unpack,” she said, nodding toward the bed. “I’m going to throw on some dinner. How’s spaghetti sound?”
“Trying to ease me in lightly, huh?”
“Don’t get used to it.” She pushed off the frame and turned to leave. “Tomorrow’s meatloaf.”
“Ugh.” Julie’s meatloaf was horrendous.
The twittering of her laughter followed her down the hall. She knew she sucked at cooking.
Problem was, he wasn’t any damn better. He lived off take-out and protein shakes.
He sighed. Unpack. His gaze landed on the envelope. First he needed to make sure he had everything he needed to file his claim. Taking a seat on the bed, he opened it and withdrew the contents. An inventory checklist he’d made just a few months ago, along with photos, and a flash drive that had a video of everything he owned. Had owned.
Oddly, he hadn’t bothered to get rental insurance until after he’d been kicked out of CMC. He figured his sudden dip into Responsibility Land was mostly thanks to Julie’s “grow up” comment, which had really kicked him in the teeth at the time. Even so, as he’d taken the photos he’d felt kind of stupid, thinking he’d never need them. Boy, had he been wrong.
Maybe there was something to this growing up thing, after all.
He set aside the flash drive and started to leaf through the pictures. And froze. A thousand emotions bombarded him. Remorse. Anger. Resentment. Longing.
The photo had been taken right after he’d won the championship. Drenched in sweat and blood, he held the gold belt raised above his head in triumph, his mouth wide open with a yell.
Damn. The pain of loss slashed through him like a sharp knife.
His gaze strayed to the woman standing beside him, grinning up at him with the soft glow of adoration in her eyes, and his chest tightened with affection.
Julie.
God, she’d been so proud of him that night. Who would ever have guessed that, just eight months later, the night he’d defended his belt for the first time—and lost—she would end up at the jail, waiting in the pickup area with arms crossed tightly across her chest, disappointment etched on every inch of her face as a guard escorted him out of the cellblock. Even now, four months after her scathing, “You really need to grow up,” those words still rang loud and clear in his ears.
He leaned his head back against the headboard with a sigh.
Maybe it was about time he took them to heart.
…
Julie held a pot under the running tap until it was three-quarters full. After she placed it on the stove, she wiped her hands across the sides of her jeans and sighed. A weird current had buzzed through her ever since Tommy walked through the door. One she couldn’t exactly explain. It wasn’t unease…more like tension.
Crazy. He’d been here many times since she’d moved in two years ago, and she’d never felt like this. But it was different this time, wasn’t it?
He wouldn’t be leaving after dinner to go home. He would be staying overnight…for a while.
Which meant she would have to deal with the constant ups and downs she had with Tommy.