The Friend Zone Page 7
“I’ve got an interview with the State Department as soon as I get back,” he said. “Might take a while before I get in. And I’ll get to spend lots of time with you until I’m out of background checks.”
My lips pursed. I put the shelf upside down to dry. “Yeah. Maybe we can rent a cabin up in Big Bear or something while we wait. Catalina Island. Make it fun.”
“Think bigger. Why stay in Cali when we can go somewhere we’ve never been?”
He loved to travel.
I smiled, weakly, and went in for the next rack. Stuntman barked. He got excited when the fridge was open. I never fed him human food, but I think Sloan had been sneaking him pieces of turkey whenever she was here.
“Is that my little arch nemesis?” he asked. “That dog better not bite me again.”
I pulled on the shelf. It was stuck. “Or what?”
“Or he’s going to the pound.” He laughed. He was kidding. But it annoyed me just the same.
“How do you deal with armed insurgents when you can’t handle one four-pound Yorkie?” I gave the shelf a hard yank and it came away from the door with a clatter of condiment jars.
“If that fat ass is four pounds, I’ll eat my helmet.” He chuckled.
I laughed and felt myself soften a little. “He’s just fluffy.”
“I know. I’m just playing with you. You know I love your dog.” He paused for a moment. “Mi amor?”
Our game. My lips twitched into a smile and I stayed silent. I set the condiment rack down on the kitchen table and closed the fridge door.
“Amore mio?” he said in Italian.
Still, I waited. I wanted one more. Maybe two.
“Meine Geliebte?”
German maybe?
“Mon amour?”
Ugh. That did it. The French always got me.
Tyler had been a military brat. His parents were diplomats and had been stationed all over the world. He knew four languages by the time he was old enough to talk. Now he knew nine. He was an interpreter. He was also one of the most intelligent men I’d ever met.
He specialized in simultaneous interpretation, a skill set all its own. He knew Arabic and Farsi too, which made him a particular asset in the Middle East. They’d lobbied hard to keep him in service. It said a lot about his feelings for me that he was willing to leave all that.
I put my back to the fridge door and slid down to the floor, a grin on my face. “Yes?”
“I know you’re nervous about me coming home. I can hear you cleaning.”
He knew me too well. “And you’re not? I mean, let’s be honest here—this is a little crazy, right? We’ve never spent more than fourteen days together at a time and now we’re moving in together. What if I drive you insane? What if on day fifteen you want to kill me in my sleep?”
What if I want to kill you in yours?
On paper it made perfect sense. He didn’t have a place of his own. Why get one? He’d be over here all the time anyway. And if he was going to be over here, shouldn’t he pay rent?
This move-in thing had been in the works for six months. Tyler and I had decided on it back when Sloan and I moved out and I got my own place. It was hardly a new development. It just felt like it was barreling toward me all of a sudden.
“Kris, the only thing insane would be me spending another two years half a world away from you. It wasn’t just you who couldn’t handle it anymore. It’s going to be great. And if it’s not, you’ll tell me to go fuck myself and make me move out.”
I snorted and put my forehead into my hand. God, what the hell was wrong with me? “Tyler, do you ever see yourself acting crazy, but you can’t stop because you’re not a quitter?”
“You’re the least crazy woman I know. It’s my favorite thing about you. It’s normal to be nervous. It’s a big step.” He changed the subject. “How are you feeling? Do you have a surgery date?”
“Two and a half months from now. The week after Sloan’s wedding. I’m not anemic anymore,” I added.
“Good. I wish I were already there to take care of you.”
“Oh yeah? Are you going to buy me pads when I need them?” I asked wryly, knowing this errand was an affront to his very manhood. Men were so dramatic about buying feminine products. I never understood what the big deal was.
“Now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
I rolled my eyes with a smile. “Lucky for you, there’s only one need I want you to take care of. I’m climbing the walls.”
He laughed. “As long as you’re not climbing anybody else.”
My mind flickered traitorously to Josh.
Tyler didn’t have anything to worry about. I didn’t cheat. Never had, never would.
Cheating was a completely avoidable scenario as long as you operated with the barest amount of common sense.
Like not putting yourself into vulnerable situations, such as hiring a hot fireman-carpenter to spend hours working in your garage.
Josh would be an endurance test of my willpower.
“Look, Kris, I gotta go. I’ll try to call you again in a few days. No more stressing. I can’t wait to see you. And I’m gonna tear you up when I get there,” he added.
Now he had me in a better mood. Of course, how much he could tear me up depended entirely on where my wacky cycle was at the moment. But I liked the offer. “I can’t wait.” I grinned.