I shower and put on a summery dress designed by up-and-coming fashionista Camile Hayes. I met Camile once. She’s dating a fighter who trains out of the same gym as Tempe and Tony. She seemed nice. A bit quiet, but very sweet. Even if she hadn’t been, she’d still be a genius. Her designs flatter the right parts of me and skim over the bits I’d rather no one pay attention to. Not that I’m particularly sensitive about my figure, but I’m what some people might call thick, and I know that’s not for everyone.
I sling my handbag over my shoulder and choose a pair of cute flats to wear into town. I went out in heels my first day here and regretted it because I had terrible blisters within a few hours. I lock the door behind me, pausing to wonder whether Tony has a way to get back in, but then I remember he mentioned Gabe giving him a key.
I walk to the bakery, enjoying the warmth of the sun on my arms and legs. Once there, I buy a freshly baked bread roll that’s bursting with colorful salad, then give in to temptation and get a mini donut as well.
With a food bag in one hand and a vanilla latte in the other, I stroll back to the cottage. The front door is unlocked, so I let myself in. It crosses my mind that perhaps I should have bought something for Tony, but since he’s already been out and about, I’m sure he must have taken care of himself. I kick my shoes off in the hall and follow the sound of muttering into the living room. Tony glances up as I enter, and the muttering abruptly stops. He’s scowling, and I’m taken aback by the expression because it’s so unfamiliar on his face. My gaze trails down his body and sharpens on the ice pack he’s holding to his shoulder.
“Did you hurt yourself?” I ask.
“Nothing major.” The pale pallor of his cheeks suggests otherwise, but I don’t call him on it. “I went to see a physiotherapist and might have overdone things.”
“I thought you’d already been to see a P.T.,” I say, confused.
“I did.” His words are tight. “But I’ll need to see one locally if I’m going to be here for a while, and I wanted a second opinion.”
I nod. “Did the second opinion match the first?”
“Yeah.” He doesn’t sound thrilled about it.
I move past him to the kitchen and set down my haul from the bakery. “Is there anything I can do to help? Get you a painkiller, perhaps?”
I hate to see him hurting. Especially when I know it isn’t only physical but mental too. The fear over what this means for his career must be torture.
“No,” he snaps, his eyes flashing. “I don’t need anyone fussing over me. I had enough of that at home.”
Oh. Well, then.
I fall back a step and look away, emotion tightening my throat. I hadn’t been expecting his harshness, and I’m not sure how to react. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”
I start to turn away, intending to grab my breakfast and go out onto the deck, but he reaches toward me, wincing as he jolts his shoulder.
“Wait,” he says. “I’m sorry, Luce. That was a really shitty thing to say.” He seems contrite, but I don’t drop my guard. He makes a pained sound. “I hate being vulnerable, so I acted like a jerk. I’m sorry.” He laughs humorlessly. “You’re really not seeing me at my best.”
I soften because I understand where he’s coming from. Tony is like a wounded animal right now. He doesn’t want to admit to weakness, so he’s lashing out to protect himself. That doesn’t make it okay, but I get it.
“Forgiven.” I hope he doesn’t see my sympathy because I get the feeling it’s the last thing he wants. “Just don’t make a habit of it.”
“I won’t,” he promises. “Are we good?”
“Yeah.” I retrace my steps to the kitchen counter, grab two plates from the cupboard and place my bread roll on one and the donut on the other. “Here.” I offer him the donut, sensing he needs it more than I do. “Peace offering?”
His lips pull into a tiny smile. “Are you trying to make me feel even worse for snapping at you?”
“Not at all.” I’m glad he seems more relaxed, even if the difference is barely noticeable.
“Thanks.” He takes it. “Smells amazing. This is really nice of you.”
I wave off his gratitude. “It’s a donut, not a gold watch. Don’t get carried away.” His grin widens, and despite the turmoil lurking behind his eyes, I know we’ll be fine. “I’ll be on the deck, staring at a blank screen,” I tell him. “I’ll see you later.”
“Good luck with the writing.”
I take my breakfast outside, then return to the cottage for my computer. I eat while the laptop fires up and then open a document and review the last few sentences I wrote. Strangely, my fingers are itching to get onto the keyboard, and once they do, the words seem to come easily. The only problem is, they’re not completely consistent with the story so far, and the hero seems to bear a startling resemblance to a handsome MMA fighter.
Chapter Three
Tony
A couple of days after I arrive in Provincetown, I’m starting to tire of the silence. I’d looked forward to the opportunity to have some thinking space, but there’s only so much moping a guy can do without losing his sanity. I’ve been keeping up to date with my exercises, and I have another appointment scheduled with the physiotherapist, but other than that, I’m bored. It doesn’t make me feel great to admit it, but I’m used to having people around. Training buddies, family, friends. My place is one of those homes where everyone congregates, and sharing a cottage with a woman who spends most of her time focused on her computer is throwing me for a loop.
