A Better Place

by Jennifer Van Wyk

  I startle when I hear the voice of someone I don’t recognize say my son’s name. I look up to see a man standing not too far from us. His presence is commanding, and his eyes are fierce. His shiny jet black hair is tied back from his face and his bulky frame makes me intimidated but his gray eyes soften, and his kind voice gives me a sense of calm.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi.”

  “My name is Tate. I’m the owner of the gym.”

  “Nice to meet you.” I give him a small smile.

  He looks between Jack and me. He reaches up, the muscles in his arm bulging, and pushes back the few strands of hair from his forehead that had fallen.

  The simple movement catches my eye, causing me to nervously wring my hands together.

  “Listen. I don’t fully know your story, but I know enough. I also know why you and your son are here. Will you let me help you?” he asks. When I don’t respond immediately, he continues. “Jack came to me, with Donna. He feels like you both need this. He wants to protect you, teach you how to protect yourself. I won’t ask questions, and if at any time either of you feel uncomfortable, you just say the word. But I’m here. For you. For Jack. I’d be honored to give you that peace.”

  I look at Jack, and he nods his head slowly, showing me this is what he wants… needs.

  I take a deep breath and rub my lips together. “Mom?” Jack says nervously. “Please.”

  Slowly I extend my hand to the burly man. “I’m Carly. Carly Hanson.”

  “Tate Owens.”

  “Tate. If you have the time, Jack and I would be honored for you to train us.”

  “My pleasure.” He flashes a small smile and nods his head.

  Three years ago, we were introduced. Three years he’s trained us. He’s stood by Jack while he fell apart after a particularly brutal workout. He’s held me while I cried when the memories assaulted me. He never probed. Never asked questions. He let us use him as a trainer, a counselor, a support system, and most of all a friend. We’ve watched him get married, visited his wife in the hospital when she gave birth to twin baby boys. He’s become a brother, and I couldn’t be more grateful because this man… he taught me what it means to fight. Fight for my life and choose a new path. A path where I wasn’t walking around scared.

  But still, some days the memories don’t seem to want to stay hidden. The memories of his hands on me are nothing compared to the memory of his parting words the day I walked away with signed divorce papers. The fear of him finding us, of him finding Jack and coming for us, is what drives me to be better every day.

  I wipe the sweat from my brow and thank Tate for another good session. He didn’t have to come in today, but he told me he noticed that I needed extra time recently.

  “I’ll be right back, alright, Jack!?” I yell across the mostly empty gym.

  Jack nods in my direction as he continues his work on the speed bag in front of him, his favorite.

  I duck into the ladies’ locker room and use the restroom. I usually just shower at home but now take the time to towel my body off and apply a layer of deodorant, because… well, I need it. My face is still red from my workout, and my hair has definitely seen better days. I take my it out of my ponytail, finger-comb through it, and pull it back up. Jack and I will head straight home from here, so it’s not like I really have to worry about who I’m impressing anyway.

  As soon as I step out of the locker room, I have a strong desire to turn around and walk right back in.

  Captain James Cole stands right next to Jack, both laughing at something.

  This isn’t happening.

  This can’t be happening.

  Jack notices me first, his eyes finding mine, and his mouth quirks up in a side grin. And, of course, James spots me immediately. No chance of sneaking out of here and hoping Jack would find me waiting for him in the car. He turns his head and… welp, he’s even better looking than I remember. And I have a very vivid memory of James. Dammit.

  “Hey! Fancy seeing you here!” he says happily as I make my way over to them.

  “Uh, yeah.” I dare not look over at him.

  “Mom just finished kicking Tate’s butt over there,” Jack says, eyes twinkling as he takes in how weird I’m being.

  “Is that right?” Humor dances in James’s eyes until he sees Tate standing close.

  “Well, I don’t think…”

  “Oh, she kicked my ass alright. She definitely wasn’t feeling the tryptophan from Thanksgiving turkey,” Tate says, putting his hand on my shoulder. He looks down at me and squeezes my shoulder once; his eyes narrow in my direction, obviously sensing my unease.

  But it’s not James who makes me feel uneasy. It’s how much he makes me feel. When I’m around him, I immediately feel the need to want more, and that makes me nervous. I shouldn’t want more from any man.

  I look over at James, and he’s staring at Tate’s hand on my shoulder. His eyes shift between my face, Tate, and back again. I glance at Tate who’s staring James down; the protective nature to his stance is looking more like boyfriend than trainer/friend.

  “James, how are you?” I ask, hoping to ease the tension.

  He blinks once and then faces me. “Good. I’m good. You?”

  “I’m good.”

  “Good.”

  “Well, we’re all good here. That’s a good thing, right, Tate? You good?” my smartass son says.

  Tate barks out a laugh. “I’m good, kid.”

  “Good,” Jack says, smiling like a loon.

  I clear my throat and bite the corner of my lip, rolling my eyes. So glad that bad habit is back. “So, what brings you here?” I ask stupidly. Why else would he be here in workout gear but to work out?

  He pats his flat stomach and then looks around the room. “Looking for a new gym.”

  I cock my head to the side and scrunch my eyebrows. “Here? In Liberty? But— It’s here. In Liberty.” Seriously. I should be nominated for a Nobel Prize for my speaking abilities around him. I even pointed to the ground to get my point across, feels like the first time I met him in my classroom all over again.

  “Yes. That’s definitely a plus. Being as I live here again.” He winks.

  “You live… I’m sorry. What? Where?”

  “You’re looking at the new owner of Tony’s Diner.”

  “Ew, why?” I say with, no doubt, a look of disgust on my face.

  Oh, holy Hannah, save me from my idiotic mouth.

  He laughs loudly and doesn’t even flinch at my words. “Well, I don’t plan on it staying Tony’s Diner. I bought it to give it a makeover, change it up. I’ll be renovating it and plan to reopen next year some time.”

  “So, you live here? Now?”

  “Yes. Well, I’m staying with Tess and Barrett at the moment but am looking at houses, already put mine on the market.”

  “Really?”

  “Yup.”

  “Uh, I take it you two know each other?” Tate says, interrupting our intelligent conversation.

  “Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry! Tate, this is James. James, this is Tate, my trainer.”

  “Your trainer?”

  “Yeah, I’ve been training Carly here for about three years now.”

  “No shit?” James says oddly.

  “No shit,” I reply.

  Jack bursts out laughing. I don’t curse around him often, so when I do, he finds it the funniest thing he’s ever heard.

  “Well, this place just became that much more appealing.”

  “You box? MMA?” Jack asks.

  “I do both, but mostly just boxing now,” he says, turning his focus and attention toward Jack. “I started about ten years ago as a way to stay in shape. I don’t do it professionally or anything like that.”

  “Cool,” Jack says. “I can’t believe you bought Tony’s? Is it a disaster?”

  “Well, it’s not in great shape, that’s for sure. But I plan to gut it and turn it around and run it.”

  “You gonna cook yourself
?”

  “Yup. Well, at least in the beginning. For the past twenty years, I’ve only dabbled in cooking, helping out at a friend’s restaurant when he needed it. But it’s been my dream to own my own restaurant for as long as I can remember.”

  “And Tony’s is the winner, huh?” Tate asks, laughing.

  “Well, let’s just say there were other things that drew me to move back to Liberty,” he says, glancing sideways at me.

  I swallow and look away, butterflies running amuck in my stomach.

  “Can I stop by some time?” Jack asks him.

  “You interested in the restaurant business?”

  “I am, actually. I haven’t really told anyone but Mom this, but I really want to be a chef. I just don’t know what it looks like yet.”

  “Yeah? That’s awesome, kid!” James says, putting out his fist in Jack’s direction.

  “I hope so,” he says.

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “I don’t know, Mom. Becoming a chef isn’t necessarily the manliest of careers.” He looks at James and mutters, “Sorry, no offense.”

  “None taken. I know what you meant. And don’t worry about what anyone thinks. You do what makes you happy. I’d be glad to show you around, and then you can decide for yourself whether it’s something you want to pursue.”

  “Cool,” Jack murmurs. “Five more minutes, Mom, okay? Then we can leave?”

  “No problem, bud.” He walks back toward the speed bag and picks up where he left off, striking the bag with fast repetitions and incredible accuracy.

  “He’s good,” James says, watching him.

  “He is. He’s worked really hard to get where he is.” I had forgotten Tate was still standing here.

  “It shows.”

  “I’ll see you next week, okay, Carly?”

  “Sounds good. Thanks for coming in today. Tell Claire thanks, also, for sharing you on your day off. I hope it wasn’t a problem.”

  “Not a problem at all. I have no doubt she and the boys are taking a nap as we speak.”

  “Good day for that,” I say, looking out at the gray skies.

  “Seems to be. Might do the same when I get home. James, stop in next week. We’ll get you set up.”

  “Thanks, man. Have a good weekend.”

  “You too, and looking forward to having another restaurant in town. Maybe one we don’t feel the need to sanitize the tables before sitting down.”

  “Ha! I’ll do my best.”

  “Good deal. See you later.”

  “See ya,” I put in.

  As soon as he’s out of the building, James turns to me. “So, Tate?”

  “Yes. Tate is on his way home to his wife and twin baby boys as we speak,” I tell him with my eyebrows raised.

  “Hey, I didn’t mean anything.” He raises his hands innocently.

  “Right. It looked like you were about two seconds away from ripping his arm off.”

  “And why would I want to do that?” he asks, a sly grin growing on his too-gorgeous face.

  “Oh, I guess, maybe not. I don’t…”

  “You’re right, Carly. I did.”

  “Oh. But, why?” I ask breathlessly.

  “Because his hand was on your shoulder. And I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since I met you in Harper’s classroom. And the night of the football game when I asked if I could walk you to your car I had totally chickened out because what I really wanted to ask was if you would go out sometime. But then you ran, and I never got the chance to.”

  I cross my arms over my chest and raise my chin. “I did not run.”

  “Yeah, you did. And it’s okay. It really is. But now I’m here. I’m back, and I’m not going anywhere, and I’d really, really like the chance to get to know you better.”

  “You would?”

  “I would.”

  “But… why?”

  “Why?”

  “Yeah. Why? I mean, I’m nothing…”

  “You’re everything.”

  “You don’t even know me.”

  “And yet I already know that you’re everything.”

  Swoon.

  I’m staring into his eyes and see nothing but honesty, kindness and gentleness. I want to say yes to him so badly, but I don’t know if I can.

  “James,” I start, but he puts a hand up to stop me.

  “Carly, you don’t have to say anything. Not yet anyway. I get that you have a past. I do too. In fact, mine burned me pretty badly. But you’re the first person who… I don’t know… made me feel less burned. That sounds dumb, right?”

  “No, it doesn’t. I get it. I do, but,” I stall.

  “Uh-oh. I don’t like that but.”

  “I’m not saying no, James. It’s just that you’re right. I do have a past. And that past is not pretty. I don’t know if I’m ready yet, or if I’ll ever be, to be honest.”

  “I can handle that.”

  “You can?”

  “Of course. Carly, I’m not going to lie and tell you that I’m not attracted to you because, holy hell, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” he tells me with a giant grin, apparently completely unashamed of giving me the compliment that makes me blush. “But, I really just want the chance to get to know you. If it turns into something beyond friendship? That’s even better.”

  “So you’re…”

  “Okay with taking it as slowly as you need, okay with keeping it strictly in the friend-zone. I promise, no pressure.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m positive. I am new to town, you know. I could really use a new friend.”

  “You’re hardly new, James. You grew up here, didn’t you?”

  “That still doesn’t mean that I don’t need a new friend.”

  My shoulders relax, and my smile feels genuine. “That sounds… perfect.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, I’m glad that’s settled.” Jack chuckles.

  “Jack!” I say, my eyes going wide.

  “What? He’s a nice guy, Mom. I told you that already. Let’s go grab something to eat. I’m starving.”

  Sixteen-year-old boys, ladies and gentlemen. Blunt and to the point.

  “At home. I look like crap, kiddo.”

  “What did I tell you? Beautiful. Even after kicking Tate’s ass in the ring.” James winks at me.

  “See? It’s settled. Let’s go grab a pizza or something. You up for that, James?”

  “Oh, James probably doesn’t…”

  “James does. Besides, I seem to recall telling Jack I would talk to him about the whole chef-thing, right, kid?”

  “That’s right. See Mom? It all works out.” Traitor.

  And that’s how I find myself sitting at the tiny little hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant one town over that neither Jack or I had ever heard about, but James knows the owner. And as we talk, laugh, and feast over cheesy garlic-bread knots with fresh marinara, a thin-crust, brick-oven pizza with house-made sausage, roasted red peppers, and fresh mozzarella, and house salads, I find that I can do slow. I also find that James Cole is a man that maybe I don’t want to do slow with, or keep in the friend-zone. Because, moment by moment he is seeping further into places that I’ve kept blocked off for a long while now and for the life of me, I can’t seem to care.

  CHAPTER SIX

  James

  “So, what looks good?” I ask, hoping to break a little bit of the tension. I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable around me. I was honest with her when I said I was willing to be just friends. Even though I definitely wanted her to consider more, I just want the chance to get to know her. To figure out why she has invaded my every waking and sleeping thought since the moment I met her.

  “Pizza. Definitely. That okay with you, Mom?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “Pizza. Sound good? Or do you want pasta?”

  Carly smiles at her son. “No, bud. Pizza is good. It smells incredible in here, r
ight?”

  “It does.”

  She turns her eyes to me and I shift in my seat, wondering if she felt me staring at her. She’s so beautiful I can’t help not to. “How did you know about this place? I’ve never heard of it before, and we’ve lived here for a few years now.”

  “The owner, Stephan, called me to help salvage this place. It was in bad shape when I first visited. That was two years ago.”

  “But, still no one knows about it?” Jack asks.

  “Well, it’s still building, but it’s become really popular. Just not local. Which is different. Usually the locals are who flood the doors of small restaurants like this, knowing about them, but in this case, it seems that he’s attracted people from the city,” I tell them, motioning to the full restaurant.

  “That’s pretty amazing,” Carly says, finally starting to seem more relaxed.

  “It is.”

  “You must be good at what you do.” Jack’s eyes take everything in before they land back on me. “Look at this place. It’s incredible.”

  I shrug. His praise humbles me, even though he’s not the only one who tells me. “Nah, I just give them the tools. It’s up to the owners to do the hard work.”

  “But still. How did you get into it?”

  I lean forward, my forearms resting on the table. Jack does the same while Carly sits back in her chair, hands folded on her lap. “Well, my dream was always to own my own restaurant. I thought I was on my way to that, but my ex-wife had other plans. When my daughter, Lily, was just three years old, Nicole left a note. The only time I’ve heard from her since was when I received divorce papers through certified mail.”

  “So, she just… left? You and your daughter?” Carly asks, straightening in her seat.

  “Yup. It’s just been me and my Lily Bug for almost twenty years now.”

  “Why couldn’t you open a restaurant then?” Jack asks.

  “It takes a lot of time to own your own place, bud. Time I didn’t want to take away from raising her. I only chose restaurants to help makeover that were either close enough that I could visit them during the day or bring her with me in the evening. And if they were too far away, I made sure to visit only when I wouldn’t have to leave her or pull her out of school.” Putting my own dreams on the side burner never bothered me. I would have given up anything for Lily.