The Man I Want to Be (Under Covers)

by Christina Elle

  Instead, he’d taken the easy way out.

  “All this time,” she said, her brain trying desperately to catch up. “I blamed myself. I was convinced it was me. I wasn’t enough. I wasn’t what you needed. But it was you. It was always you.”

  “You wouldn’t be happy,” he said. “You’d resent me because I’m not what you need.” He lifted his hand to place it against her cheek as if to comfort her, but she spun away.

  “You’re right,” she said, letting her anger bolster her courage. “You’re not what I need.”

  His jaw hardened, and his hand dropped to his side. “Guess I was right. You hate me.”

  She didn’t hate him. She never did. Not even when he didn’t come back. She was angry. But hate? She couldn’t hate something she’d loved so much.

  But that love betrayed her trust. Had left her because he couldn’t love himself enough for the both of them. They’d lost twelve years together. They’d never be able to get that time back.

  He was right: they could never be like they were before. And no matter how bad she thought she wanted them to be, she wasn’t going to wish for something that couldn’t happen. She wasn’t going to try to be with someone who could so easily walk away if and when he thought he wasn’t good enough for her again.

  Her heart had been through enough of that for one lifetime.

  “Just go,” she whispered. Hot tears burned her eyes, but she blinked them away.

  He hesitated, seeming to test her words on his ears. “Kenna, I’m—”

  “Get out,” she said, a little more forceful.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know you don’t care right now, but I am. That’s all I wanted to tell you. I’m sorry.”

  “Get out!” she screamed as tears poured down her cheeks. “I never want to see your face ever again. Stay the fuck away from me!”

  He went pale, and the stricken look in his eyes was enough to tell her he understood and would accept her demand.

  As the door closed behind him, she collapsed into bed, covering her body with the thick comforter, attempting to shut out the rest of the world.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  After leaving Kenna in the hotel room hours ago, using every sliver of his remaining strength to push aside the pain, Tyke spent most of the evening searching for whatever he could find to solve the case. But he was out of time. The wedding was taking place tomorrow afternoon, and he still had zero leads.

  Which was just as well. It’s not like he expected to find the damn things and then ride in on his white horse as Kenna’s savior. That kind of shit never happened to him. Instead, he was the villain who got everyone captured, lost the gold, and ran out of time on the explosive device.

  He couldn’t be her hero before, so he had no clue why he thought he could be her hero now. No matter how much he wanted to be.

  Tyke thought about what she’d said to him before he walked out. He pictured her face. Memorized her words. It was damn close to how he’d pictured it in his mind twelve years ago. Except back then there had been a glimmer of hope that maybe one day she’d accept him. That he’d work up the courage to go back to her, and she’d find a way to look past his inadequacy and want to be with him. But she didn’t. She couldn’t.

  She was done with him for good this time. They were over. He’d seen it in her expression. And no matter how much he told himself he could move on. He couldn’t. He’d spent the last twelve years in hell, and had to prepare himself for a lifetime more.

  If only he could feel worthy of her love. If only he could be what she deserved.

  Tyke had just planted his boots in the sand and was cutting across the dimly lit patio of the restaurant they’d had the rehearsal dinner in, when a voice called out, “Hey, numb nuts. Over here.”

  Tyke scanned the area, finding only one table lit by a single candle, occupied by the outline of a round body. Coming up closer, he saw that it was Estelle.

  She lowered her highball glass of amber liquid onto the table and glared at him. “What the hell are you doing out here? Aren’t you supposed to be off looking for shit with Kenna?”

  “Not tonight, Estelle,” he said, and started to walk past.

  “Hold up, big guy.”

  He stopped but didn’t turn to face her. “What?”

  “Where is she?” Estelle asked. “She didn’t come down for dinner, neither did you, so I figured…”

  “What?” He spun to her. “What did you figure? That I’d sweep her off her feet? That we’d pick up where we left off a decade ago? That she’d just forgive and forget everything I’d done to her? I know you think you have the whole male species figured out, Estelle, but I’m here to tell you that you don’t know shit.”

  “I know that you two love each other. That should be enough.”

  Laughter propelled out of him like a howl from a wolf on a full moon. “Love. What good is love if there’s nothing you can do to make things right? To make them the way you want them to be?”

  She stood then and sashayed around the table toward him with her full hips. In the shadow, with nothing but candlelight to cast a soft glow over her, he could see her appeal. She was confident in a way many women her age weren’t. “Nothin’s ever the way you want it, Bryan. It never is. That’s the fun of it. How boring would love be if we all got what we wanted?”

  “Yeah, and how fucked up it is when we don’t.”

  There was a pause, then, “Touché.”

  She came around to where he stood and rested her backside on the table behind her. She braced one arm next to her full hip for balance, and the other held her glass in front of her. “So what’s the dilemma? You came clean with her, and she kicked you out, that it?”

  He knew no response would be answer enough.

  Estelle made a thoughtful sound deep in her throat. “I figured honesty would’ve done the trick. But the girl’s more stubborn than I am.”

  No kidding.

  “It’s just as well,” he said. “I’m no good for her anyway.”

  Her wrinkled features showed confusion. “What the hell are you talking about? From what I understood, you were the only thing good for her.”

  He thought about holding back and not telling Estelle everything. He normally would have. But he didn’t have anything else to lose. He’d stayed quiet long enough, and it hadn’t done anything but ruin his and Kenna’s lives. So he told Estelle about his infertility and why he wasn’t good enough for Kenna.

  To her credit, the older woman’s face never changed from her pointed stare as he outlined everything. Then she shrugged. “That’s it?”

  He sputtered his response. “I’m sterile, Estelle.”

  “Doesn’t seem like much of a reason to beat yourself up for so long,” she said. “It’s not like you meant for it to happen or you did it on purpose.”

  “But I can’t do anything about it,” he said, tightly. “I’m stuck this way.”

  “There ain’t much in life we can control. What’s your point?”

  How hard of a concept was this for her to grasp?

  Tyke rubbed his temples, not feeling any relief as his head continued to pound. “I can’t change who I am. I can’t do anything to be what Kenna needs. Therefore, I can’t be with her. She’ll end up resenting me.”

  Estelle let out an unladylike snort. “All you men are the same. So focused on your shortcomings while missin’ the bigger picture.”

  He gritted his teeth. “What exactly is the bigger picture here?” He was no good for Kenna. End of story.

  “She loves you.”

  It was his turn to snort. “That’s not enough.”

  Estelle dropped the sarcastic act as she shook her head, settling on something much more serious than he’d ever seen from her. “Bryan, that’s more than enough. It always was. You just wouldn’t let yourself see it. Your pride, or whatever male misapprehension you were operating under, wouldn’t let you see that. She loves you. You love her.” She paused and squinted one eye. �
�You do love her, don’t ya?”

  “More than anything,” he said, meaning every word.

  “But you think because you can’t give her kids, that what? She won’t want you or something?”

  He nodded. That’s what he’d been trying to say this whole time.

  “I never had kids.” She didn’t say it in a way that told him how she felt about it. “Wasn’t in the cards for me. But I can tell you firsthand—just ’cause you can’t have ’em yourself, don’t mean you love other people’s any less.” She sipped her drink, a look of adoration flitting over her features, brightening her face instantly. “Did Kenna tell you she’s my goddaughter?”

  “No, she didn’t.”

  A slight smile, then, “I am. Her momma said she wanted Kenna to have a strong female influence.”

  Tyke laughed. Estelle was most definitely a strong female.

  Still clutching the glass, she pointed a finger at Tyke. “I’m going to take that reaction as a compliment.”

  “Please do,” he said.

  She sighed, seeming to drift into her own thoughts for a moment. “Mary Lou asked me to be Kenna’s godmother for more than just my influence, though. I think she knew one day we’d need each other. Especially after she passed.” Her gaze met his, fervent emotion clear in its depths. “I love that girl more than life itself. Even though she ain’t mine. When she hurts, I hurt. I never thought I could love someone so much. But I do. She’s the closest thing to a child I’ll ever have. Just because I didn’t give birth to Kenna doesn’t mean I don’t love her like my own. ’Cause I do.” She lifted an eyebrow as if to say, You catch my meaning?

  Tyke had been the biggest dumbass of all dumbasses ever in the history of dumbasses.

  He’d wasted so much time feeling sorry for himself. For what he’d lost. And for what could never be that he hadn’t taken a second to think about Kenna and what it was doing to her. What it had done to her.

  “I got it,” he said. “I’ve been an idiot.”

  Her answering look told him she agreed wholeheartedly. “So what’s it gonna be? You gonna suck up your pride and let her love you for who you are today? Or are you gonna lose her again by holdin’ on to the past of who you thought you’d be?”

  Tyke swallowed the lump in his throat. Talk about a humbling experience. Fuck. He’d wasted twelve years, keeping him and Kenna apart, and for what? Because he honestly believed he wasn’t good enough for her. Just because he couldn’t give her kids.

  And right now, he was the only one keeping him and Kenna apart.

  He didn’t want to lose Kenna. He never did.

  But…

  “It’s over, Estelle,” he said. “I thought if I could find the things that were taken, then I could prove myself to Kenna. She’d finally see that I did something. I wasn’t the piece of shit she thought I was. Maybe she’d finally forgive me. But I couldn’t. We’re out of time, and I’m out of ideas. All I’ve done is just make things worse. Kenna hates me. I couldn’t find the ring. And you don’t have that brooch thing.”

  She started shaking her head. “Like the head cheerleader the night of prom, waiting for the QB to come back after screwing the band director under the bleachers.”

  “Like what?” he asked, jerking his face to look at her.

  “Nothing, kid. Look, all I’m sayin’ is it seems like you need some sort of Hail Mary pass. Am I right? Somethin’ to get you to home plate?”

  “The end zone.”

  “Yeah, whatever,” she said. “We’ve got two seconds left on the clock and your star player’s still ridin’ the bench. Looks like it’s about time to put him in, dontcha think?”

  “Yeah,” he said real slow, not understanding a word she was saying. “Where do I get my star player?”

  “Lucky for you, I’ve been holding onto him for just the right moment.”

  He waited, but she didn’t follow up with an action or another comment.

  “And?” he said, growing impatient. Every second he wasted here with Estelle spouting piss-poor sports metaphors was time he could be spending looking for the ring. “What do I need to do? Where’s the star player? Just tell me.”

  The glass hovered over her wrinkled lips as she grinned. “Just checkin’ to see how bad you wanted it, lover boy.” After a sip, she said, “You’re the only man she’s ever loved. And you’re the only one her momma said she ever trusted. Don’t make me regret this, Bryan.” Her shoulders and round midsection swiveled as she rested her now empty glass on the table behind her. Then she stood at full height, all five-three of her, and looked up at him. Estelle joked a lot, and she liked to have fun, but given the rigid set of her spine and the serious look in her eyes, she cared about her family. And she wasn’t someone to mess with.

  “Estelle, I’m telling you, I promise. You won’t regret it. I love her. I wanna make her happy. Somehow I’ll find a way. If she’ll let me.”

  She chewed on his words for a minute, her gaze cutting him up one side and down the other. Then she dropped her chin for one concise nod. “If the truth didn’t work. Then this definitely will.”

  Estelle lifted her hand into the air, and when the candlelight hit her palm, something glinted off. It was shiny, sparkly, and blue.

  Holy shit. Estelle had Kenna’s ring.

  Her aging eyes glittered like the stone in her hand. “Now how you gonna prove all of that to Kenna?”

  Tyke smiled, the dread lifting from him, replaced now with lightness. “I’ve got an idea.”

  He was going to need reinforcements.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Kenna rolled over in bed, groaning as she pulled the covers over her face. It was morning, and she didn’t want to be awake. She didn’t want to face the day. There was no way in the few hours they had left that she’d find Estelle’s brooch or Kenna’s ring. It was impossible.

  Oh, and don’t forget how pleasing it was going to be for Bear to escort Kenna up and down the aisle at the wedding, her arm in his, his hand over hers, dancing with him at the reception with him holding her close in his tight embrace, and staring at him during the rest of the festivities.

  Yeah, she wasn’t ready.

  On instinct, she reached over to his side of the bed but found it empty. Disappointment swirled through her, though she wasn’t sure why. She’d kicked him out last night after all. It must’ve been the finality of it that made her most upset. The fact that last night hadn’t been a nightmare like she’d hoped, but instead, it had been very real.

  She groaned.

  “Good morning, sunshine,” Sam said, making Kenna yelp in surprise.

  Flipping the comforter down from her face, Kenna peered at Sam across the room in a chair by the window.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “I’d ask how you slept,” Sam said, glancing at her. “But judging by the Medusa hair, swollen eyelids, and black mascara smudged all over your cheeks, I’m going to guess it wasn’t well.” Standing, she said, “Get up. We’re going for a walk.”

  “A walk?” Kenna looked at the clock on the bedside table, trying to focus on the numbers. “At seven in the morning?”

  “While you’ve been sleeping, some of us have been taking care of stuff.” Sam opened a drawer and rooted through Kenna’s things. She pulled out a sports bra, tank top, and shorts and threw them at her. The bra landed across her face.

  Kenna peeled it off and threw back the covers, attempting to sit up. “How’d you even get in here?”

  “Extra key,” she said. “You’ve got five minutes, or I’m going to drag you out of this room in your pj’s.” Sam assessed Kenna’s current outfit, which weren’t pajamas, instead she wore the shirt and shorts from the night before, then walked out to the balcony.

  Kenna slowly rolled out of bed and stumbled into the clothes Sam pulled out. She went into the bathroom and ran the toothbrush through her mouth. As she walked through the open doorway outside, she pulled her hair up into a messy ponytail. “Fine. I’m up.
Where are we walking?”

  Without commenting, Sam spun, holding a pair of oversize sunglasses out for Kenna, and headed for the door.

  They ended up at the beach, walking across the wet sand, letting the warm water splash at their feet and ankles. The sun had risen about an hour ago, casting a hazy glow over the water that hinted at a hot and humid day. The wedding was set for sunset, so hopefully the temperature would break a bit once the sun started to go back in.

  “Are you nervous at all?” Kenna asked with a glance at her friend, who seemed carefree. “For the wedding.”

  “Not a bit.” Sam slowed her pace and turned to walk backward in front of Kenna. “But that’s because it’s right. Ash is the one. There’s no doubt in my mind. I want him forever.”

  “No matter what?”

  “No matter what.” Sam came to a stop, cocking her head and giving Kenna a funny look. “Why?”

  Kenna stopped, too, and lifted a shoulder. “Even if the life you expected—the one you’d dreamed of—isn’t what you actually get?”

  “Yeah, even then. Any life with Ash is better than none at all. We learned that the hard way. I can’t imagine not being with him. No matter where we are or what we do.”

  After they’d gotten engaged, Sam had told Kenna about her love affair with Ash and how they’d battled drug lords, jealous lovers, and crooked cops in order to find their happily ever after. Kenna had heard Luke and Cass went through something similar where Cass had nearly died at the hospital with Luke by her side.

  Sam’s expression went thoughtful. “Do you think Bear’s still the one?”

  Kenna loved him. By God, she loved that man with every ounce of her being. He was the only one she’d ever wanted her entire life. The one who completed her so fully he’d ruined her for anyone else.

  It was always him.

  “He could have been the one,” Kenna said with a shrug.

  “But?” Sam asked.

  But she was still angry. Though, the stage of anger varied. When he’d first told her about his condition—and that he’d kept it from her for so long—she was raging-red angry. She’d wanted to lash out at him and make him hurt as bad as she did. Then it morphed into disbelief at how absolutely clueless he’d been to not trust in their love. And now she was sitting at just plain pissed off. All that time apart could’ve been avoided if he hadn’t been so damn hardheaded.