That day was my birthday and the time had come to tell him.

So I did. I told him everything.

When I was done, he was silent.

“Matt?” I called.

“I’m here,” he said quietly.

I misread his quiet mood. “I’m okay, honey. I’m… well,” I smiled to myself, “I’m really good.”

“Yeah, I can hear,” he replied but he didn’t sound happy for me.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Left Ellen,” he announced, I pulled in breath and he went on, “‘bout a year ago, now.”

This shocked me. I thought he and Ellen were solid.

“Matt,” I whispered, “what hap –?”

He cut me off. “Shoulda called me, Laurie.”

“What?”

“Shoulda called me.”

“Why?”

“Wished you’d’ve called me,” he stated softly.

It was my turn to go quiet because I knew what he was saying.

Then I whispered, “Matt.”

No answer.

Then, “His name’s Tate?”

I swallowed then nodded even though he couldn’t see me. “Yes, Tate Jackson.”

“And he’s a bounty hunter?”

“Yeah.”

Nothing.

I waited.

Then, “Jesus, Laurie, only you could go from a pansy-assed dickhead to a badass bounty hunter in the space of a year.”

He was teasing me and I knew it was going to be okay. So, he’d just rocked my world, letting on he’d been carrying a torch for me for decades and making me feel a hint of regret that I hadn’t told him about Brad because he’d been a great boyfriend and I knew he was a good man. A year ago, I wouldn’t have minded exploring that.

Now, no way in hell.

“So,” I returned, “you knew I had an inner biker babe all these years?”

“Biker babe?”

“Tate’s a Harley man,” I explained.

“Goody Two Shoes Lauren Grahame on the back of a bike,” he hooted. “Fuck me.”

“Tate’s bike is hot,” I retorted.

“Honey,” he replied, a thread of amusement in his voice.

“He part owns a biker bar. I’m a waitress there. I wear high heels, tight jeans and Harley shirts and break up fights, when I’m not running checks on the skips he’s tracking down. I’m the woman behind the info, Matt. He’s got bounty hunter databases on his computer. He needs it, I run the checks and feed him the data. You should be nice to me, I can find out anything about you.”

“Then I better stay on your good side.”

“You got that right.”

We slid into our comfortable banter after that, laughing and reminiscing and only going serious when he told me about Ellen, who he spent the last three years falling out of love with because she sounded kind of like a nagging bitch. Suffice it to say, Matt definitely couldn’t drink grape Kool-Aid on his couch because Ellen would have a conniption and Matt was not down with that, at least not fifteen years of it with Ellen growing more and more uptight rather than less and less.

“Glad to hear you sounding so happy, honey,” Matt said quietly when I told him I had to go home and make dinner for Jonas.

“I’m glad to be so happy, honey,” I said quietly back then whispered, “Hope you find this, Matt.”

“Had it, Laurie, lost it,” Matt replied, also whispering.

Cut. Right to the quick.

“Matt –”

He cut me off. “Next year, Lauren.”

“Next year.”

“Later.”

“Bye.”

I hit the button to turn off my phone and then I stared at it. Then I sighed and pushed up from the couch to get my purse and head home.

* * * * *

Sitting beside Jim-Billy in his beat up truck I watched the dark landscape slide by.

It was early November and the May-December murderer still hadn’t been found. He also had not committed another act of violence since Neeta.

Neeta had been in the ground awhile and Jonas was beginning to move on from those frequent moments where his eyes would go lost or pained and I knew his thoughts had grown dark. They were still there, they’d probably always be there, but they were less frequent.

This was why I hadn’t told him, Tate or anyone about my birthday. Christmas was around the corner and we were going to Indiana for two weeks to celebrate it. That was soon enough for fun and laughter. If the pond froze, Jonas could skate on it. My mother would spoil him rotten and we’d all probably come back needing a new wardrobe because we’d gained so much weight from her cooking.

But right now, things didn’t need to be about me. They needed to be about Jonas.

Tate had even gone off that morning to hunt down a bad guy. It sucked that he wouldn’t be around for my birthday, even if he didn’t know it was my birthday. But, though we both kept close watch over Jonas, our lives were settling and I noticed he liked to work. He hadn’t been able to do it for awhile without a lot of stuff hanging over his head but with Jonas sorted, me in his house, the bar ticking over well and Neeta not making his life a misery (in the usual ways), he was able to do his job with more focus and I realized he liked doing it. He either got off on the hunt or he got off on making the world a little safer, or both. Therefore, I didn’t make excuses to try and keep him home when he said he had to go that morning. He arranged for Pop to take me to work and Jim-Billy to bring me home and I didn’t breathe a word.

I thought, when the dust had settled after Neeta’s funeral, that Tate would again go after Tonia and Neeta’s murderer.

He didn’t.

I asked him about this and he explained simply, “Feds got their job, cops got theirs. Mine is to keep my family safe.”

There was nothing to say to that so I didn’t say anything. That didn’t mean I didn’t do anything and what I did was kiss him, hard and long.

I noticed Jim-Billy’s truck stop and I saw we were in Tate’s drive. I also saw Stella’s car in the drive which wasn’t a surprise. She was tasked with bringing Jonas home after my shift. I’d called and told her I’d be a little late due to my phone call to Matt though I didn’t tell her about my phone call to Matt. Tate and I had settled but Tate was a badass alpha male. Brad wasn’t concerned in the slightest that I gabbed and laughed with my ex-boyfriend for an hour on my birthday. Tate, I didn’t think, would like that. And Stella, I’d learned, had a big mouth.