Chapter 6
The first week, he only called her three times. Proof of his near-Herculean strength of will. Each of those occasions, he was careful to make contact during business hours and to have a media-related question ready as an excuse. Even if the ploy was one so lame a child could see through it. He also timed the calls to be sure they didn’t last any longer than ten minutes, though he really wanted to talk to her for hours.
At the end of the third call, she said simply, “You don’t need to make up excuses to call me, Ty. If you want to talk, we can talk.”
Her candor was both a comfort and catalyst. Before he could stop himself, he was calling her daily. Sometimes more. He hoped his father’s arrival the following week would prove to be a distraction, but he wasn’t counting on it curbing the urge altogether. The casual intimacy of their conversations on the plane and over the phone was a revelation. Though Millie’s questions weren’t particularly probing, he’d given her more information than he’d given anyone. He’d never had anything like this openness with Mari, even when things were fresh and new. When his marriage started to flounder, he’d tried to recapture the closeness they’d shared only to discover he and Mari had never had a tight connection.
Talking to Millie made him realize he’d never really had a confidante. Oh, he was close with his father, and they had a good, solid relationship, but delving deep wasn’t their forte. He was lonely. And like a bad tooth or a partially healed bruise, he couldn’t help pushing on the sensitive spot. Acknowledging his loneliness left a dull ache in his gut only the sound of Millie’s voice seemed to soothe.
Feeling something, even the sharp sting of regret, was better than the numbness he’d been living with for too long.
He wanted someone in his life. Not an arm charm or a warm body in his bed, but someone who wouldn’t hesitate to call him on his bullshit. A woman he could talk to without having to parse his words. Someone to guard his back and maybe set a few picks for him in life. A partner. Millie.
He wanted Millie.
The second week he was in Reno, he played a lot of golf. Staying active kept him off the phone, but working up a sweat didn’t stop him from thinking about Millie. Incessantly. And oddly enough, those thoughts weren’t entirely salacious. Mostly but not entirely.
After long days on the course, his father crashed early, leaving Ty with too much alone time after business hours. Every night, he played a little game with himself. How long could he go before he cracked and placed the call? Some nights, his will was pathetically weak. Others, he held strong.
The first time he delayed his gratification as late as eight o’clock, he’d caught her in bed. Stupid time difference. The mental image he conjured played havoc with his swing for the next few days, but the husky welcome in her voice was consolation enough. They talked about everything and nothing. What she had for lunch. His dad’s outlandish golf pants. Whether he could blame his sad performance on the back nine on his custom Pings or if he needed to man up and admit he sucked at the game.
He always ended the call with a smile on his face, even if Millie had been prickly with him. Glutton that he was, he discovered he liked her salty side almost as much as the sweet she tried so hard to hide. Every night, he ticked off another day on his mental calendar. With every conversation, Ty realized he’d thought about hanging around Millie more than any married man should over the years. Still, when he searched his conscience for a hint of guilt, he came up clean. He never acted on the impulse, and if his marriage hadn’t gone south in such a spectacular way, that kiss might never have happened.
All jokes about players being players aside, he simply wasn’t built to be a dog with women. Sure, he’d dated a lot in his younger days, but he’d never been one to juggle relationships. He claimed he didn’t have the skills for keeping multiple women happy, but in reality, he didn’t have the interest. Even in his globe-trotting days playing EuroLeague ball, he’d known he wanted to come home to the States, meet a nice woman, and try to build a family complete with both a dad and a mom.
Lust. He’d been blinded by lust when he met Mari. And she’d been the starry-eyed girl who hung on his stories from his playing days. He never really gave her curiosity much thought. People liked knowing pro athletes whether they were retired or not. Hell, his own father still took great pleasure in holding court with his golf cronies, bragging as if Ty’d dunked a game-winning shot the night before.
By the time his third week in Reno rolled around, he and Millie were on a semiregular schedule. Ty found himself looking forward to their nightly calls more than anything. They hardly consisted of anything earth-shattering. Mostly day-to-day stuff. Millie dished what little gossip she could scrape up on a college campus in the summer session. He told funny stories about his dad and the guys they golfed with each day.
They laughed and teased, keeping the conversation light, but all the while, he was mining for information. Small pieces of Millie he could pretend he alone knew. Like her inexplicable aversion to seeded hamburger buns or the fact that she enjoyed knitting. One night, she’d talked about how devastated she’d been when she lost her grandmother. He told her about
