Page 41 of Matched

Chapter Seventeen

Tony

These last six weeks have been grueling, but in an entirely new way. I hadn’t expected to miss Inara so much. It’s surprising how often I thought about things like holding her, lying next to her. I imagined her lips and her eyes, of course, but it was more than that. For the first time, I actually missed her being, like she’d somehow become a part of me, and I hadn’t noticed until we were actually separated.

Bear was right about search and rescue. And thankfully, the storm passed and nothing happened to her. Though I still can’t believe she was out there. I wish I could have been there to make sure she was okay, but she did it all without me—and they found the missing child. My girl is kind of a badass.

I shake my head.

I haven’t been trying in this relationship as much as I should’ve been. Haven’t told my wife anything about myself. Haven’t asked her why she even signed up in the first place. Yeah, I have ideas. Mostly because she signed up right after Taya’s wedding, which is one of the only times I’ve ever caught Inara at a loss for words. I’ll never forget the expression of absolute horror on her face when the screaming brunette woman in the parking lot mentioned she was Inara’s date’s wife.

I wince at the memory. It was obvious she’d had no idea the slick guy in the fancy suit by her side all night was already hitched. But ignorance wasn’t enough to save you from the scorned partner’s wrath. Been there, experienced that, years ago. Left with a black eye to show for it. So I’d ushered Inara to her car, quickly, while the woman was still fixated on her cheating husband.

Physically, Inara had been fine. Emotionally? I wasn’t so sure. That night, I’d watched my now-wife shrink right before my eyes while her hands shook on the wheel.

So, yeah. I’m guessing the shock of discovering her boyfriend was married, combined with her mom’s lousy track record, had a whole lot to do with her hasty decision to join the Issued Partner Program. Then again, when two people never have real conversations, all you have are ideas. And assumptions. And everyone knows what they say about those. So maybe, considering my lack of relationship experience, it’s time I do more things that I’ve avoided. Things like actually talking to my wife.

This is the beginning of a new, motivated Tony, the kind of Tony that could actually make a marriage work. The kind of Tony that listens. I pull into the driveway and put the car in park faster than I should, given the sensitive gears. But I’m just happy to be home.

The key is like hot steel in my hands, and I fumble as I slip it into the lock. When I open the door, I’m so excited to see her that I’m practically bouncing, despite my exhausted legs.

“Inara?” I call out down the hallway. Silence greets me. Before checking the garage to find out if her car is gone, I head to the fridge to grab a glass of cold water. A note is taped to the door.

Painting the last of the new houses at the site with Bennett for a family with a little girl. Be back later. Welcome home! I cooked for you. Look in the fridge.

Disappointment that she’s not home coils inside me, but I shake it off and check in the fridge to see what she’s left me. After heating up a plate of her homemade enchiladas—which are literally the best thing I’ve had in my mouth since Inara’s tongue, right before I left—I change clothes and shoot Trevor a quick text, asking if he wants to come with me to the construction site. During training, I made a unilateral decision to include the guy in more activities once we got back home. Jim’s still working through some emotions, which is totally understandable. But that means someone else needs to step up to the plate and do what needs to be done. We’re a team. A unit. Closer knit than a lot of families. Or at least, we should be. It’s not right to hang Trevor out to dry just because he’s the new guy and Jim’s still haunted by ghosts of the past.

My phone buzzes. Trevor’s a yes, so I head back out the door. I stop by his place on the way, and he hurries out to the car and climbs inside.

“Thanks for texting. I was still unpacking and already getting a little restless being home.” He sounds so grateful that I’m doubly glad I invited him along. “Is that normal?”

“Everyone’s different, but yeah, it can be hard to go right back to your regular life when you get home. Physical activity usually helps me a lot, so I figured might as well kill two birds and help out a local family while taking the edge off.”

Less than twenty minutes later, we arrive at the construction site. Unlike the last time I’d helped Bennett out, this house is already built. We walk up the dirt road and enter the open door. Inside, the smell of paint is strong. A couple swipes rollers coated with a beige color on the walls. I don’t recognize them, so after a brief wave, we continue on in search of someone we know. We run into Bennett in the kitchen, where he’s helping another man install cabinets. He spots me and takes a break.

“Hey, Tony! I didn’t know you were coming. Good to see you.” He walks up to us and pats me on the arm. “And look, you brought a friend to help.”

“Bennett, this is Trevor, one of my teammates. Trevor, Bennett. Inara’s stepdad. He’s going to put you right to work.”

The two of them shake hands and then Bennett hands us a couple of paintbrushes. “You ever painted a house before, Trevor?”

Trevor shakes his head. “No, sir.”

“Well, today’s your lucky day. Hey, Lucy,” Bennett calls out of his shoulder. “Trevor here is new. You mind giving him a few pointers?”

A twenty-something-year-old woman with a blond ponytail rubs a hand on her paint-splattered denim overalls and turns to Trevor. “See this?” She wiggles a thick paintbrush at Trevor, and he nods. “This is a paintbrush. You dip this in the paint”—she proceeds to demonstrate—“and you put it on the wall.”

I snicker. A smartass after my own heart. Meanwhile, poor Trevor’s cheeks have turned fifty shades of red. Bennett gently nudges him forward. “Come on, Lucy, quit traumatizing the poor kid and show him how it’s done.”

I’m tempted to stay and watch as Trevor makes his way over toward her, but my teammate is right. I do miss my wife and now that she’s nearby, I’m desperate to see her.

Bennett points to the staircase. “Inara’s up there.”

I toss one last look at Trevor, who’s hovering a safe two feet away from Lucy, chuckle, and then bound up the stairs two at a time. It’s quieter up here. I walk down a narrow hallway and the first room I peer into is empty. I finally find Inara alone in what I’m guessing is the master bedroom at the end of the hall. She’s got earbuds in and is shaking her hips while she strokes paint onto the wall. Her back is to me, so I tiptoe up behind her and then, when I’m only a few inches away, I reach out and give her waist a quick squeeze.

Her shriek is so loud, I bet they can hear it the next town over. She spins and reflexively jabs out with the paintbrush, catching me smack dab in the chest as she pulls AirPods out of her ears. “Tony! You scared me half to death!”

We both look down at the giant blue streak on my old Metallica shirt. “I can see that.”

---