Once a Family

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  Plumbing was a bitch.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  THE WEEK FOLLOWING Sunday dinner with her folks, Sedona spoke with Tanner Malone almost every day. Something was making her keep in touch with him. A need to keep him content because every day that she pacified him was another day she bought for Tatum to heal.

  Or something deeper, more personal. Not giving herself any slack, she tried to be completely honest. To be fully aware of her motives so that she could make changes where appropriate, if necessary.

  “How was Tatum today?” she asked the second he picked up her phone call Thursday night—their daily calls had been growing steadily longer.

  “I got a ‘hey,’ and a ‘see ya’ today. ‘Hey’ this morning, ‘see ya’ this afternoon.”

  Her heart catching, she sat on her balcony, watching Ellie stare out toward the unlit shore where they could hear waves they couldn’t see.

  “She loves you.”

  “But you still aren’t sure I didn’t hurt her, are you?”

  Tomorrow was Friday. The last school day of the week. The last day of the week he’d see Tatum.

  “What are you doing this weekend?” No, Sedona, you’re crossing a line.

  “Working. I’ve still got an acre to prune, weeding to be done and some trellises need maintenance.”

  She couldn’t be concerned about him there, all alone—a good man whose only goal was to serve his family.

  A man like her father?

  “Why?” he asked into the silence that had fallen. “You want some more time to observe me? There’s a private wine tasting in Santa Barbara, at the home of a vintner I’m sure you’ll recognize. You could see me interact with my peers. Find out if any of them exhibit any fear toward me. Or drink enough wine to loosen their tongues and tell you how I treat my sister.” His tone was light.

  But the undertone caught at her. Was he aware of her fear that they were moving into territory that would make them more than just lawyer and client’s brother?

  Were they doing that?

  Did he want to? When she realized she was afraid to ask him, afraid he’d say no, she said, “I’m going to be spending my weekend with briefs, and writing the first draft of a summary judgment,” she said. She couldn’t allow her boundaries to shift any further.

  Couldn’t care, other than from afar, objectively.

  And if her body tingled every time she heard his voice...if she woke up sweating in the middle of the night with thoughts of him naked beside her...that was information she was keeping to herself.

  But on Friday morning, as she drove to work, and then again, in the afternoon, as she stopped in at home to let Ellie out, she was thinking about his wine-tasting invitation, envisioning what it would be like to go. To be with him among his peers, listen to his voice take on that note of passion it got when he talked about varietals and stems and growing techniques, to see him smile.

  Lost in her daydream, it took a couple of seconds to realize that something was wrong with Ellie. She’d been quick to dart out her doggy door due to the length of time she’d been alone, but now she stopped cold. The dog’s little scrunched-up furry face turned to look at Sedona—and that was when she noticed the water spraying straight up in the air like a geyser, soaking everything in its path, including her balcony. Water was puddled at Ellie’s feet, soaking her paws.

  Taking stock of the situation―a landscape irrigation system blowout underneath Ellie’s patch of grass―she grabbed up the dog, and hurried with her out the garage door, through the garage, to the garden area at the right of her driveway.

  “Sorry, girl, this will have to do,” she said, while Ellie, for once not the least bit timid, went forth to do her business. Sedona turned the shutoff valve for the outside irrigation.

  And an hour later as she sat in on the tail end of Tatum’s session with Sara, Sedona thought of Ellie and the ease with which she’d adapted to a change Sedona would have bet she wouldn’t tolerate and said to Tatum, “Sometimes we think we have to coddle those around us, we think they can’t do things for themselves, and instead, what we’re doing is holding them back. Sometimes we just need to let them try.”

  Tanner’s little sister quirked her head, her brows drawn together as she sat on the couch in Sara’s office, next to Sedona and across from the counselor. “You’re saying you think Tanner’s trying to coddle me because he thinks I need it, but really he just needs to let me try things?”

  Well...yes, but, really, it wasn’t her job to speak for him.

  Most particularly until they knew why Tatum was so adamantly against going home.

  “I think it’s important to understand why people do what they do,” Sara jumped in when Sedona couldn’t come up with a right answer. “It explains things. It helps us understand. And those things are vital to living happy, healthy lives. But it’s also important to keep in mind that some things people do are just wrong, even if we understand the reason.”

  “Like someone hitting someone else.”

  “Yes.”

  “Even if they caused it?”

  Sedona’s back muscles stiffened. Sitting straight up, she tried not to show any kind of reaction, not to move the air in the room at all. She couldn’t have an effect this. Her job was to listen—and then to act on the provable facts.

  “How would someone cause themselves to be hit?” Sara’s quiet voice brought a measure of calm to the room.

  “I don’t know. Like maybe just keep pushing for what they want, what they need, what matters most to them, and not listening to what other people need. Like not putting as much importance on others’ needs.”

  “Do you know someone in that position?”

  “No.”

  “Do you think that’s why you were hit?”

  “No. I don’t know.” Her face lined with deep emotion, a mixture of fear and worry and something else Sedona couldn’t define, Tatum looked from one to the other of them.

  “Who told you that you don’t put equal importance on the needs of those around you?” Sara leaned forward, her elbows on her knees.

  “I don’t know.” Tatum looked down as she spoke and Sedona’s breath caught. She glanced at Sara, who met her gaze and nodded.

  “I think you do know,” Sara said.

  At which Tatum glanced up wide-eyed and said, “It’s not anything any one person told me,” she assured them both. “It’s just...something I’ve pretty well, I mean, I just figured it out. Del and I talked about it, too. About how we have to make sure we think of each other in our relationship, not just of ourselves.”

  “Did Del Harcourt hit you, Tatum?” The question blurted out of Sedona’s mouth before she could stop it.

  “No! Of course not!” The girl didn’t hesitate for a second. “Don’t even say that,” she continued more calmly. “Del would get in so much trouble if someone even suggested that he did. You have no idea.”

  “Who did hit you?” Sara’s quiet question fell into the taut silence.

  “I already told you.”

  “You said Tanner did.”

  The girl nodded, her blond hair falling over hunched shoulders to hide her face again.

  “So your brother hit you.”

  “I told you, you don’t know him.”

  “But you do.”

  Tatum nodded again.

  “You think you know him better than anyone else?”

  “I know I do.” There was no mistaking the derogatory note in the teenager’s voice. And Sedona’s heart sank again. But she couldn’t help grabbing on to the fact that Tatum hadn’t been able to out-and-out say Tanner had hit her, the way she had when she’d first come to them.

  Because he hadn’t and they were making progress with her?

  Or because she was starting to miss him and
was thinking about going home no matter what he’d done.

  Sedona believed it was the first.

  And had not one piece of provable evidence to back up her hunch.

  “Who’s Ellie?”

  Looking a little desperate, Tatum was focusing on Sedona. “You said that you’d planted grass for Ellie and the irrigation hose blew.”

  Right. She’d turned off the water to the outdoor watering system. But the problem awaited her.

  Sedona almost welcomed it. “Ellie’s my housemate,” she said. Finding a picture of the little poochin on her phone, Sedona showed it to her.

  Tatum glanced at the picture, her expression flattening. “We had a dog once,” she said. “It ran out in the road and got hit by a car. Tanner wouldn’t let us have another one. I got to keep a kitten with a hurt paw until we found another home for it. And there was a bunny who’d been abandoned—I fed him until he ran away, but that’s it.”

  Wow. Sedona looked at Sara again, who seemed to have picked up on the same thing. Tatum’s resentment against her brother was not dissipating.

  “Anyway, call Tanner,” the girl continued. “He installed four acres of irrigation for his grapes. I’m sure he can fix it for you.”

  Such mixed messages the girl was sending. She resented her brother, and yet needed him in the picture, too. She seemed petrified at the thought of going home with him, and yet trusted his abilities.

  For Tatum’s sake, Sedona needed answers. She also needed her irrigation system tended to as soon as possible. The days were getting warmer and if she didn’t get the water back on, she was not only going to lose Ellie’s grass, but the hundreds of dollars of landscaping and flowers that she’d planted around her house.

  And so she did as her client suggested. During her nightly call to Tanner Malone on Friday, she set up an appointment for him to come out to her place on Saturday and take a look at her irrigation system.

  It was business. Not a wine tasting.

  * * *

  HE WORE JEANS. Blue and faded. With a black polo shirt that Talia had bought him the last Christmas she was home. It was name brand. And generally hung in his closet.

  Pulling into the driveway of the address Sedona had given him, Tanner looked around. Her home was much smaller than he’d expected when she’d named the Santa Raquel neighborhood where she lived. It was the most modest place on the secluded street that backed up to a private beach.

  And way out of his price range.

  He was there to do work. Not to compete. Or socialize.

  But as he got out of the truck and walked back to get his plumbing toolbox out of the bed, he enjoyed the view of the ocean that beckoned beyond Sedona’s bungalow. And of the woman herself, too, as she came down the steps.

  “Nice dress.” He said it because it was true. He probably shouldn’t have. Now they both knew that the spaghetti-strapped ankle-length piece of cotton that hugged her figure had his attention.

  “Thank you. Do you want me to turn the water on so you can see the leak?”

  A reasonable person would assume that he’d also noticed the perfectly shaped feminine body housed by the dress, as well.

  Sedona was a reasonable person.

  “Just show me where you saw the geyser and we can go from there,” he said. He hadn’t slept with a woman in a while. And had been taking this one to bed with him, via cell phone, every night for more than a week. The longest relationship he’d ever had with a woman who wasn’t related to him.

  Her sandaled feet moved easily along the walkway beside her house. He followed, not quite as easily. He’d noticed that nicely rounded rear before. Of course. Pretty much every time he’d seen her.

  He just hadn’t ever seen it at home. Or in such a thin piece of cotton. He was pretty sure she was wearing a thong.

  She’d known he was going to be there.

  So maybe she’d wanted him to see her this way. Maybe she’d been aware that he was attracted to her.

  “See that slight indentation?” She was pointing to a crevice in the dirt in the middle of a small grassy patch. Bending down, Tanner spread the blades of grass with the fingers of one hand, resting his other arm against a bent knee.

  “I see the problem. It’s―”

  His explanation was broken off by the high-pitched yelp of the four-legged munchkin-looking thing that bounded down the steps of the back deck and headed straight for him.

  “Ellie,” Sedona said, half sternly, but with a bit of a chuckle thrown in.

  The creature, a cross between a puppy and a gremlin, stopped about three feet away from him, still yelping.

  Sedona bent to pick it up, giving Tanner a very clear glance down the front of her dress.

  He knew more about her underwear now. Not the bottom half, but the top. It was absent. She was braless. And had rosy brown nipples that were ripe and hard.

  “You’re staring,” she said, straightening immediately, holding the critter she’d called Ellie to her chest.

  “What guy wouldn’t?” He looked her in the eye, not sure whether or not she knew what he’d seen.

  She didn’t back up, or look away, either. “One who’s lived his whole life in Santa Raquel and should be used to beach attire.”

  “I don’t get to the beach much.”

  “Apparently not,” Sedona said, chuckling, and Tanner hoped she didn’t pay as much attention to his private parts as he had to hers. He was hard as a rock—a fact his tight jeans weren’t doing much to disguise.

  And, of course, an observant lawyer such as herself wouldn’t have missed that fact.

  “You’ve got a bubbler,” he said, pointing to the ground. “A hole in your irrigation line.”

  He could tell by the way the soil gravitated in one spot.

  “Can you fix it?”

  “Of course.” Wasn’t that why she’d called him? Because she knew he was experienced with irrigation systems?

  “I meant do you have what you need to fix it?” She held the little dog with one arm now, and gestured toward her problem piece of grass with the other.

  “Yes.” He didn’t elaborate, but the couplers and spare line he’d need for splicing, the tools and plumber’s glue, were all in the back of the truck. “It should only take a few minutes.”

  Her smile fell a bit. Like she was disappointed.

  “But since you’re dressed so nice and all―” he didn’t smile “—I could still take you along to the wine tasting.”

  She buried her face in Ellie’s fur, watching Tanner.

  “You know you want to,” he said.

  “Yeah, okay, I want to.”

  “So come with me.” Was he really so close to begging this woman? This lawyer who could, at any moment, decide to help keep his little sister permanently away from him?

  Being emotionally vulnerable, other than with his siblings, was unacceptable. So Tanner told himself he had to keep Sedona close, to get as far inside her as he could, physically or otherwise, if he was going to thwart any attempt she might make to take Tatum away.

  He told himself it was all about Tatum.

  But he knew it was a lie.

  And when she accepted his invitation and his day instantly brightened, Tanner wasn’t happy at all.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  SHE TASTED A little too much wine. But as much wine as she’d tasted in her life, she’d never been to a private vintner party—never had so many varieties of exquisite wine in one setting.

  “He’s never brought a woman to one of these before.” The man who spoke had just walked up behind her, coming to stand with Sedona at the windowed wall of her host’s living room, overlooking the ocean.

  She tried for a chuckle that came out sounding more like a full-bodied laugh reminiscent of the petit Syrah
she’d just sampled. “Don’t make too much of it,” she said, listening for Tanner’s voice at the bar off to her right. All afternoon she’d been aware of his presence, had known, even as she mingled with the twenty or so people in the elegant room, where he was every second. She could feel him there—close.

  And told herself that was because he was the only person in the room she knew.

  “We’re just friends,” she thought to add. If she remembered right, Tanner had said he’d known the man most of his life.

  “He used to work for me, did he tell you that?” Ron something-or-other asked.

  “No.”

  Ron, an aging hippie with a long silver ponytail and an even longer beard, shrugged, the half-filled glass of wine in his hand a lighter hue than the liquid Sedona had most recently consumed. “Kids come cheaper than grown men and he was willing to work during the day.”

  “Other kids weren’t?”

  “I won’t say they weren’t willing, but the rest of them were in school.”

  “Why wasn’t Tanner in school?”

  “Don’t know,” Ron said, his brows loosely drawn together as he glanced sideways between her and Tanner, who was still deep in conversation with a couple at the bar. “I never asked. I just put him to work whenever he came around.”

  Tanner had cut school? To make money to supplement the government assistance his mother wasted away on her booze and drugs?

  “How old was he?”

  “Never asked that, either.”

  Wanting to tell the man that perhaps he should have, Sedona swallowed the urge and instead asked, “Did you ever know him to have a temper?”

  “Tanner? You’re kidding, right?”

  She focused, wishing now that she hadn’t allowed herself to consume both the white and the red tasting flights that afternoon. “I just...I’ve never seen him lose his cool,” she improvised, “and...you know...everyone gets mad now and then.”