Fuck, she was beautiful. I would have sworn she couldn’t get more breathtaking, yet she had managed the impossible.
The air rushed from my lungs. My heart beat too fast. Seeing Talia was like being hit in the chest. It had been the same last night. How many times had I wished to see her face, to stand in the same room and breathe the same air, just one more time?
Beneath her black coat, she wore a pair of baby-blue scrubs that brought out her sapphire eyes. A man could find the secret to life in those eyes.
Talia walked to the center of the room, looking everywhere but at me.
“You’re a doctor.” Fuck. Nice, Madden. Way to state the obvious.
“Yes.”
“That was always your dream.” It didn’t surprise me in the slightest that she’d made it come true.
Talia pushed up the sleeve of her coat, tapping her watch. “I’m on a break and need to get back to the hospital. What do you want, Foster?”
You. “I wanted to see you. Tell you I was in town. Thought maybe we could catch up. Go to dinner or something. The restaurant in the hotel is really good. I ate there last night.”
“That’s my brother’s restaurant.” She crossed her arms over her chest, still walking in circles around the gym. “Why did you buy this building?”
“Because I need a training facility. The other gym in town is public. I needed something I could tailor for myself. Put in a ring. Heavy bags. Mats. That sort of thing. Plus it’s got an apartment that will work until I’m able to buy a house.”
Talia’s stunning blue eyes widened. She stopped walking and pointed to the floor. “You’re going to live here? In Quincy?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Wasn’t it obvious? “You always talked about Quincy. About how your family founded the town. How it was a place where roots ran deep. I decided if I was going to relocate, why not Montana? It was time for a change. Time to get out of Vegas.”
“A change.” Her eyes narrowed. “What does Vivienne think about this change?”
“Does it matter? She’s not my wife.”
There was so much to say. So much to explain. But there was a fire in Talia’s eyes, and if she was angry, she wouldn’t hear me out. Maybe she wasn’t ready for what I had to say. And I needed her to hear me. To hear the truth.
“How about dinner tonight?” I asked.
She raised her chin. “How long have you been planning this move?”
“Not long.”
“I’m surprised no one knew.” She scoffed. “Foster Madden moving to Quincy is big news.”
Which was exactly why I’d made sure to keep a lid on the purchase of this building.
“When did you buy this ring?” She held up the pouch again. “Was it hers?”
“No, that was never Vivienne’s.” That ring had always been for Talia.
It had stayed locked away in my safe until I’d finally been able to give it to her last night.
“There’s a lot to talk about. If you’ve got to get back to work, then tonight. What do you say? Dinner?”
Her arms cinched tighter across her chest and she started walking again. “No. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to see you, Foster. I don’t want you in my town.”
“Too late.”
Her nostrils flared.
Shit. I’d always loved Talia’s steady nature. When others would panic, she’d stay calm. It was part of the reason I’d known she’d make an incredible doctor. But every now and then, she’d get mad. And when someone pushed the right buttons, Talia Eden had a temper unmatched.
So before it blew and I really pissed her off, I changed the subject.
“There’s a lot to be done to fix this place up. That orange wall has got to go. But I think the building itself will work. I’m going to set the ring up here.” Marking an outline in the dust, I walked a square in the center of the floor, then pointed around the room as I spoke. “I’ll put mats in that corner. Hang heavy bags from that beam. Bring in a treadmill and stationary bike.”
“You can’t be serious about this.”
“I am. I’ve got a fight in March and am having a hard time focusing in Vegas. A change of scenery should help. Maybe some fresh faces. You were always good at keeping me focused. Maybe I could enlist your help.”
She gave a slight head shake. It was the same look people had after you rang their bell. I had her head spinning. “You’re asking me to help you get ready for a fight?”
No, I was asking her to dinner. “Something like that. We could talk about it tonight.”
“I—what?”
“Dinner, Tally.” It was a mistake to use her nickname. I knew it the moment her expression blanked. Gone was the confusion. Gone was the anger.
She shut me out faster than I could blink.
“Get out of Quincy, Foster.” She marched across the floor. “I don’t want you here.”
The cold air rushed inside as she ripped open the door and stormed outside.
“Fuck.” I dragged a hand over my face. A pop of teal velvet caught my eye.
The ring.
She’d dropped it on the floor.
I walked over and picked it up, holding it in my hand for a long moment.
Was I pushing too hard? Too fast? That was the only way I knew how to go. But it was exactly how I’d lost Talia in the first place.
“Round one.”
Round one was over. And I’d gotten my fucking ass kicked.
ROUND 2
CHAPTER THREE
TALIA
Tally.
No one called me Tally. Not my parents, my brothers or my friends. Everyone used my full name.
Except Foster.
He’d thought it was so fitting, not just because of my name, but because I tended to count in tally marks. I’d watched all of his fights and sparring rounds with a notepad on my lap filled with tiny lines.
Strikes landed versus strikes attempted. Kicks versus punches. Takedowns and tap outs.
The tallies had been a way for me to curb my nerves. If I was busy keeping count, then I worried less about him being kicked in the ribs or punched in the face.
Just like tallying my good days at the hospital. Those marks, even when I had to erase them, gave me a positive focus. A goal.
Tally.
I hadn’t been Tally in a long time. Until yesterday.
It was like being blasted back in time, to the days when Foster had been the biggest part of my life. The days when he’d been so close, he might as well have been the thump in my heartbeat.
And the ring . . .
Why? Why had he bought that ring? Especially if it hadn’t gone to his wife. When had he bought it?
It looked exactly like the ring I remembered, but that was impossible. He wouldn’t have bought a ring for me when he married Vivienne. But still, it was so familiar. Achingly familiar.
I’d never forget the day I saw that ring.
Foster’s boss had asked him to run an errand, to pick up a pair of earrings that was a gift for his daughter. So I’d gone with him to Tiffany’s because in those days, we’d been inseparable.