Whatever It Takes (Second Chances #2)

Home > Other > Whatever It Takes (Second Chances #2) > Page 13
Whatever It Takes (Second Chances #2) Page 13

by L. E. Bross


  ryan

  Even though we were keeping things casual, it was damned hard to actually find any time to spend with Tess alone.

  I went over Monday and Tuesday after work and brought pizza one night and sub sandwiches the next. We all ate together, and then Noah showed me the house he was building with his blocks. Then Tess gave him a bath and read him a bedtime story while I watched whatever was on TV that didn’t require cable.

  Tess and I got to snuggle on the couch, and do a few other things, but so far there hadn’t been a repeat of that disastrous—but awesome—night yet. Monday night Noah wandered out when I had my hand up Tess’s shirt and there had been some scrambling and a quick good night.

  Tuesday we weren’t interrupted but the idea that we could be pretty much killed anything more than kissing. Now it was Wednesday already and Tess was working tonight and I was sitting home with nothing to do.

  Literally. Because the place was spotless and Dad had pasta boiling on the stove to go with the homemade meatballs he’d cooked up earlier.

  I forgot that Dad was cooking again, so I had grabbed steak sandwiches from the deli down the street before I came home. They were both sitting in the fridge now and I was waiting for dinner to be ready. The last time he cooked dinner, I was a sophomore in high school.

  He stood at the stove and stirred the pot and he was wearing some ridiculous apron that read, Go ahead and kiss the cook. You might get seconds.

  “How’s work going?” he asked.

  “Gut job down by the lake.” I hated talking shop with him because in the beginning, when I had to pick up the slack and fix his screwups, he never liked it when I asked what I needed to do. After a while I stopped asking and he stopped even trying and we just didn’t talk about work.

  He nodded while lifting a piece of pasta out of the water and testing for doneness. Satisfied, he carried the pot to the sink to drain it.

  “You seem to be busy all the time—that’s great. Do you like doing it? Working with your hands, I mean.” As he mixed and carried things to the table I watched him. What the hell had happened to him?

  I figured that after a week or so, he’d slip back into his old ways and this would all be a blip on his radar. But if anything, he was doing more. I couldn’t remember the last time I did laundry, yet I had clean clothes every time I checked.

  Even the bathroom sparkled.

  “Dinner’s ready,” he said just as someone knocked on the door. “Hope you don’t mind but Sabine is joining us tonight. We have an argument going on about who makes the best meatballs.” He wiped his hands and actually patted his hair before letting her in.

  Sabine beamed when she saw Dad and then her eyes widened in surprise when she saw me at the table. She was just like Pops had described her: bohemian-looking, flowy clothes, with a mess of curly hair that was swooped up in a towering bun. “Hello, you must be Ryan.” She held out her hand and I shook it. “Your father talks about you all the time. He’s very proud of you.”

  That was fucking news to me.

  Dad pulled out a chair and Sabine sat down across from me. She had on a red off-the-shoulder blouse and her skirt had about ten different colors on it. Her feet were bare too.

  “I brought you something,” she said to Pops, then pulled a wind chime out of her enormous bag. It wasn’t fancy or anything, just a simple triangle with metal tubes hanging down. I waited for my father to explode.

  “That the one you were telling me about?” he said instead.

  I looked from her to him. They’d actually talked about wind chimes? When?

  Sabine nodded enthusiastically, then looked at me and smiled. “Wind chimes disperse the bad energy and encourage good chi. I make these to sell at that little flea market on Pine Avenue. I told your father I would make him one that was manly and not all covered in butterflies and flowers.”

  Pops chuckled and took the damned thing. “So I hang it near the front door?”

  “That’s the best place for it, but I’ll double-check to make sure it’s in the right segment of the house.” Sabine glanced at me and must have seen something on my face. “I practice the ancient art of feng shui. It makes all the difference in the energy of the home. Just wait, I’m sure you will feel it too.”

  I wanted to get up and leave. Go someplace where people were not talking about chi in a serious voice. But I stayed, because seeing Pops like this was like watching a movie you haven’t seen in so long, you forgot the actual plot.

  “So this is my competition?” Sabine asked, cutting into a meatball.

  “I will put it against any other meatball.” Pops watched her put a bite into her mouth and I saw the hopeful expectation on his face.

  She chewed slowly and then closed her eyes. “Basil. A little oregano and . . . Romano cheese. Not too much, but enough to give it that tangy flavor.” Her eyes popped open and she grinned. “I will have to make some of mine to make this a fair competition, but you are already ahead in the poll.”

  For the rest of the meal, I watched the two of them interact. It was clear Pops had been leaving out a lot of what went on during the day when I wasn’t there. Already I could see inside jokes and quick glances.

  “So I guess I didn’t know you two knew each other well enough to exchange recipes,” I finally said after I finished my pasta.

  Sabine giggled. There may have been gray streaking her black hair, but she glowed with energy most younger people didn’t have. I didn’t want to like her. She’d done something I’d failed at for six years: pulling Pops out of his funk, but it was hard not to get caught up in her larger-than-life personality.

  “I think it was the apple turnovers that did him in,” she said with a wink.

  What the hell? She made turnovers and he didn’t bother to share. I narrowed my eyes on him, and he lifted his hands in defeat.

  “I didn’t mean to eat them all before you got home. They were just so damned melt-in-your-mouth good.”

  “I had to do something to butter him up. All he did all day long was complain about my wind chimes. And, Ryan—” She reached out and patted my hand. Her touch was surprisingly smooth and warm, and comforting. “I’ll make you a batch that you can share with your new friend. Everyone loves a good apple turnover.”

  Now I glared at Pops. He was talking about my personal life with a stranger? He went from grunting at the TV to getting up close and personal with our new neighbor pretty damned fast.

  I’d had enough with the floor show. Pops was laying on the charm, and I couldn’t stand to watch much more of it. It was almost unnatural, and it put me on edge.

  I got up and rinsed off my plate. “Thanks, Pops. Sabine, it was nice to meet you. I’m just going to head out for a while.”

  I grabbed my keys and pushed the door open. I had nowhere to go, but I needed some air. Seeing my dad acting all . . . normal threw me.

  “That boy’s aura is so chaotic. I have some crystals that you could hang around that would help to balance his emotions. Maybe I should make him a wind chime too. If you show me where his room is, I can tailor a few things that might help him,” I heard Sabine say to Pops as I pulled the door shut. I didn’t need a fucking wind chime of my own. Or crystals or anything else. Everything was fucking fine.

  None of that voodoo shit was going to change anything.

  Pops had checked out during the hardest part of my life, and pulling himself together now was just a little too late. I was all grown up. I didn’t need a father to cook me dinner and give me advice now.

  I didn’t need to ask him what he thought about Tess. About what we were doing. I didn’t need his opinion at all. Things with Tess and me, they were complicated but there was a lot of history between us and that’s what the pull was.

  I was just trying to recapture a time in my life before everything fell to shit. She’d been a part of it when things were very g
ood. Being around her reminded me of that, of what it felt like to be carefree and happy. That was all. And yet I still found myself pulling into the parking lot of Girls! Girls! Girls!

  When I told Tess I didn’t do permanent, I meant it. But this was new territory to me, this need to be around her all the time without the expectation of falling into bed together at the end of the night. I never just hung out with any of the women who I slept with. Well, except for Shari, but that was a different situation.

  We hung out because of Seth and Avery. Without them, it would just be about the sex.

  I’d spent the last three days with Tess and Noah doing nothing special, and I couldn’t wait to see them again. If anyone had told me I’d like spending time with some chick and her kid, I would have laughed.

  And technically, Tess and I hadn’t even had sex yet.

  I glanced at the door to the club. I wasn’t even sure they’d let me in again. Not after I made an ass of myself and got arrested. Yeah, coming here might not have been a smart idea.

  So I sat in my truck instead, just because I knew she was on the other side of that wall. How fucking pathetic had I become?

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  tess

  “Dude, that was awesome!” Ryan shouted.

  Noah ran over and gave Ryan a high five and I couldn’t help but smile. When Ryan showed up with the basketball and very short hoop, I almost said no. I knew that Noah deserved all kinds of fun stuff, but right now I just couldn’t afford it.

  It made something burn inside my chest that I couldn’t do something so basic for Noah.

  Ryan asked me first before giving it to Noah, though, so it wasn’t a complete blindside. I knew Noah would love it and I caved. He should have more than some blocks and an old plastic toolbox to play with.

  He and Ryan had been in the corner of the parking lot for an hour shooting hoops. It was hilarious to watch Ryan goofing off while slam-dunking that three-foot hoop. He taught Noah how to do the same thing, and I think my heart grew three sizes watching them together.

  It would be so easy to pretend we were a real family. Something I never quite let myself think about because I could just never see a man in my life. Until Ryan came back into it.

  I exhaled and carried the plate of brownies over to them. It was the least I could do. I had a couple of store-brand sodas and a juice box in a bag too.

  “Break time,” I called out. “Who wants brownies?”

  A chorus of me was the answer. Ryan and Noah jogged over to the curb where I sat down and held out the plate. I’d cut the brownies into small squares so that Noah could have more than one. Ryan plopped down next to me and grabbed two.

  “Oh, my God, these are amazing,” he said around a mouthful of chocolate. I handed him a can of no-name ginger ale and he didn’t even blink before popping it open and downing half the can in one swallow. He grabbed two more brownies and lay back on the grass.

  “They’re just a box mix,” I admitted.

  I popped the straw through Noah’s juice box and handed it to him to wash down the brownie he was wearing more of than eating.

  Ryan held his arm over his head and glanced at me. “No one ever bakes for me. These are divine. You could win some baking-war show with these.”

  Heat climbed up my face and I nudged him in the side. “They’re a box mix. Hardly even worth mentioning.”

  Noah took another brownie bite off the plate.

  “Last one. Don’t want to spoil your lunch, ’kay?” I said, trying not to get too distracted by the way Ryan’s shirt clung to him and his muscles bunched and rippled whenever he moved.

  “Aw, man. How come Ryan got four?” Noah stuck out his bottom lip and I tried not to laugh.

  “Ryan is a lot bigger than you. When you grow up you can eat brownies for breakfast, lunch, and dinner if you want.” Noah’s eyes got so wide I thought they would pop out, and I laughed.

  “It’s true, buddy,” Ryan said. “And if Tess made these every day, I’d totally do it.” He reached around me and took two more and shoved them in his mouth. The groans and moans coming from him were bordering on X-rated.

  I elbowed him in the side. “They’re. A. Box. Mix. And a store-brand one at that.”

  Ryan wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me as close as possible. “Stop arguing with me, Tess,” he said in my ear. “They are the best goddamned brownies I’ve had because no one has made me brownies since my mom left.”

  My heart skipped a beat. God, now I wanted to run back upstairs and bake him a dozen more pans.

  “I’m sorry.” I kissed the side of his neck and then laid my head on his shoulder. “I remember she always smelled like vanilla and she made us sandwiches with the crust cut off. She reminded me of a princess, so poised and nice all the time. And her hair and makeup were always perfect. I wanted to be just like her when I grew up. One time I drank my hot chocolate with my pinky sticking out like she did. Do you ever hear from her?”

  He tensed under me and I wanted to take back the question. So far today, things had been light and fun and here I was ruining the mood. Noah had finished his juice box and was practicing his new dunking skills.

  Which pretty much were him running up to the net and bouncing the ball off the rim, but he never gave up.

  I turned back to Ryan and saw the scowl on his face. “Never mind. You don’t have to answer that,” I said. “It’s not any of my business.”

  He exhaled long and loud. “Not really. When I turned eighteen she mailed these papers to me. I guess she set up some trust fund in my name.” A sharp hollow laugh escaped from him. “Apparently the going price for forgetting about your kid was around thirty thousand.”

  There was so much pain and bitterness in his voice. How could a mother do that, just walk away? I wasn’t even Noah’s real mother and I couldn’t imagine ever leaving him. I tightened my hold on Ryan’s arm because there was nothing I could say.

  “It’s really her fault, you know.” His words were so low that I barely heard them. “Why I can’t let myself take that chance. The people you love leave and then what are you left with? My dad has been a ghost for the past six years.”

  I wanted to cry. I was one of those people. And yes, it might have been years ago when we were just teenagers, but our connection had been real and I had walked away without any kind of explanation. God, I wanted to go back and kick myself in the ass. What I gave up . . .

  Hindsight is a bitch.

  “You know the crazy thing?” he said, resting one arm on a bent knee. “A couple of weeks ago some crazy neighbor moved in and she and my father immediately clashed, but the other night, he cooked for her. Fucking homemade meatballs. Why the hell do people pull themselves out of the dark to put themselves right back where they started?”

  “What do you mean?” I set the plate of brownies down and turned toward him. I liked this, being close to him, talking about things that mattered.

  “My father stopped existing basically because my mother left us. Now he’s back to himself again like none of it happened, and it’s because of a woman? Why?”

  I traced my finger up and down his arm. “Maybe he was lonely?”

  He didn’t say anything for so long that I thought I might have crossed a line. Finally he looked up from where I was touching him. “Maybe,” he said quietly.

  “I’m sorry, Ryan. It can’t have been easy reversing roles that young and having to take care of him.”

  He ran his fingers over my jaw, then tilted my head up. His eyes glittered with emotion that took my breath away. I wanted so badly for him to tell me this wasn’t just a temporary thing we were doing here. But really, could I blame him for not wanting to take a chance? I walked away first, then his mom. I can’t even imagine what he went through.

  I remembered his mom. She always had a smile and a hug when Ryan and I hung out at hi
s house. She baked cookies and made amazing fried chicken. Nothing said she wasn’t happy. I never saw anything but love on her face when Ryan was in the room with her.

  I wished that he could have answers.

  “It’s okay, Tess. I got over it a long time ago.”

  I cupped his cheek before sliding my fingers around to the back of his neck. When I tugged him closer, he came willingly. Our lips met softly and it was only light brushes of touch. He leaned his forehead on mine and we were eye-to-eye.

  “I’m suddenly wishing we were inside, where I could show you just how much I liked those brownies.”

  I laughed and he grinned. The seriousness of the moment was gone, just as he planned.

  “I’ve got a super intense slam dunk competition going on right now, so I’m going to take a couple more for the road.” He grabbed two more brownie bites off the plate, then jumped up.

  Noah yelled, “Hey, no fair!” until Ryan jogged over and gave him another one.

  The look on Noah’s face was priceless. They bent their heads together munching chocolate and looking over at me while whispering. Noah nodded, and Ryan burst out laughing.

  “What are you guys talking about?” I yelled.

  “Sorry. Guy talk,” Ryan answered with another grin.

  “Yeah, guy talk,” Noah echoed. They high-fived and Ryan grabbed the ball and dribbled it toward the tiny hoop. Noah ran up next to him and “stole” it to make his own shot.

  I sat for the next thirty minutes and watched them while my heart grew bigger and bigger. I hadn’t realized how much Noah would need a guy around. I had two left feet and sucked at any kind of sport. How was I supposed to teach him how to throw a baseball or make a touchdown?

  Honestly, he never dribbled a basketball until today, and look at what a natural he was at it.

  I caught Ryan’s eye and he lifted an eyebrow at me. I didn’t realize I was frowning, so I gave him a smile.

  “So I was wondering if I could take you guys out to dinner tonight?” he said while dribbling the ball past Noah. “There’s this place that has great burgers and fries. It’s kid-friendly too.”

 

‹ Prev