by Tawna Fenske
Something flickered in his eyes. “Isn’t that exactly what you’ve been doing?”
Anna blinked, startled. “You’re right. It is. But you know what, Grant? I talk about my feelings. I share my regrets and fears and hang-ups, and thanks to you, I was even figuring out how to learn from my mistakes. You were the one who told me not to spend the rest of my life in purgatory. Why the hell can’t you do the same for yourself?”
He shook his head. “Three months. Schwartz was in a coma for three fucking months. He was hospitalized a lot longer than that. They had to completely rebuild his leg. Physical therapy, psychotherapy. Then there was the rest of my family. You should have seen what it did to my mother—” His voice broke there, and Anna felt her heart split in two. She wanted to put her arms around him and tell him everything would be okay, but Grant had already turned away from her. “Some people don’t deserve forgiveness, Anna.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Grant. So very, very wrong.”
“One of countless reasons I’d be a terrible husband to anyone.” He began moving toward the door, his steps stiff and halting. At the threshold, he hesitated and looked over his shoulder at her, his eyes so stormy they were nearly black. “I’m sorry, Anna.”
Anna folded her arms over her chest, torn between anger, heartache, and plain old frustration.
“Being a good partner isn’t about never being wrong, Grant. It’s about being able to admit when you are. It’s about learning from it and moving on. You are more than the worst thing you’ve done, Grant Patton.”
But he was already out the door, and out of Anna’s life for good.
…
Grant didn’t know how he ended up on the beach. He had no recollection of getting in his car and driving, though he must have driven quite a distance to have ended up here on Pakala.
“Cow Beach” his sister called it, naming it for the pack of bovines that occasionally wandered out of the jungle to sun themselves on the sand.
But there were no cows now, and no sun, for that matter. Inky clouds choked off the sky, and a fierce wind was whipping the palm trees into a frenzy.
Grant toed off his shoes under a piece of driftwood and began walking. When that pace proved inadequate to outrace his thoughts, he began to run. He ran until his legs burned, until he dripped with sweat and his legs were covered in a fine sheen of sand.
He might have run forever if his phone hadn’t rung. He pulled it out of his pocket, frowning at the sweat-fogged glass. This was why he normally ran with an armband. What the hell was it with his phone ringing every time he went for a run?
You run when you’re scared, and lately you’ve been running a helluva lot.
He brushed off the screen, but the readout just said “blocked.” He considered ignoring it, but Mac often called from secure lines. If there was a family emergency—
“Hello?”
“Grant.”
It came out more like a grunt than a name, but Grant would have recognized that grunt anywhere.
“Schwartz. What—did she call you?”
“She who?”
“Anna.”
“What the hell are you talking about? Who the fuck is Anna?”
He realized in an instant what a dumb thing he’d asked, but he’d been harboring the fantasy anyway. That somehow, Anna would know how to reach his brother. That she’d explain the whole goddamn mess, somehow making everything right between them.
But that was absurd. No one but him even knew how to reach Schwartz, and there was no reason for Anna to try anyway.
“Never mind,” he said, gripping the phone tighter. “You’re returning my call. About coming to Sheri’s wedding.”
“Right,” he grunted. “You know I don’t do weddings. Or birthdays. Or baby showers. Or—”
“Civilization in general,” Grant finished. “I know. I just thought maybe—I don’t know. That you’d make an exception. For Sheri.”
Schwartz was quiet on the other end of the line. For a moment, Grant wondered if he’d hung up.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded.
Grant frowned. “What do you mean?”
“That probably came out wrong.” Schwartz fell quiet again. “I mean you sound upset, is everything okay?”
“Right.” Grant took a shaky breath. “Apparently I’m emotionally unavailable and closed-off.”
“They make pills for that shit, don’t they?”
Grant closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It was now or never, goddammit. “I need to tell you something, Schwartz.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s about Jenny.”
“Jenny who?”
Grant sighed, dragged his hand down his face. “Your former fiancée? The one whose betrayal made you volunteer for deployment to Anbar Provence and sent your whole life spiraling down a path of desperation and despair.”
“Have you been watching Oprah?”
“Oprah’s not on the air anymore.” Grant winced. “I’m ashamed that I know that. I was babysitting the twins for Sheri one afternoon and I saw the final show and—never mind, this is beside the point.”
“What the fuck is your point?”
“It was me.” The second the words were out of his mouth, Grant wanted to slam his head against the nearest palm tree. Instead, he kept going. “I was the one she cheated with, Schwartz. We met in a bar when I came out to surprise you, and one thing led to another and—”
“Why are you telling me this shit?”
“Because you deserve to know. Because I deserve whatever punishment you want to dole out.”
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, and Grant realized how frantic he’d sounded just then. Christ, he wouldn’t blame Schwartz for hanging up on him. He deserved a helluva lot worse.
“You always did have a flair for the drama, little brother.”
Grant swallowed. “What?”
“I already knew all this shit, Grant. And that Joni—”
“Jenny.”
“Whatever the fuck her name was,” Schwartz growled, “was a scheming tramp I didn’t think twice about once she packed up her shit and left.”
Grant froze, digesting his brother’s words. “You’re lying.”
“Why the fuck would I lie about that?”
“How did you—Why did you—What the—”
“What’s the question, Grant?”
He honestly didn’t know. He sat down on a piece of driftwood as the rain started spattering into the sand around him. He barely noticed. “I don’t understand. I ruined your life.”
“You think my life is ruined?” He sounded bemused.
“No. I mean, yes. Having your whole team blown to bits right in front of you?”
There was an odd growl on the other end of the line. “Did you fire the fucking rocket that hit us?”
“No.”
“Did you start the goddamn war?”
“No, but—”
“Did you choose to raise me in a strict military family where we were pretty much expected to join up the minute we got big enough to lift an assault rifle?”
“What? Are you saying it’s Mom and Dad’s fault?”
“No, you idiot. I’m saying it’s no one’s fault. I wanted to see some action, so I went where the action was. I wanted to serve my goddamn country, so I did. I knew the risks, and I did it anyway because it’s what I wanted to do. None of it had anything to do with you or Mom or Dad or Jessie—”
“Jenny.”
“Whatever,” Schwartz said. “Is this conversation almost over?”
“Wait. So you don’t hate me?”
“Hate you? Of course not, you dumbshit. I love you.”
Tears pricked the back of Grant’s eyes, or maybe it was just the sting of windswept sand hitting his face. He wiped a smear of rain off his face and pressed the phone harder against his ear. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
“In that case, you s
eriously need to find a woman.”
“I did,” Grant muttered. “And then I fucked it up.”
“Well go unfuck it then.”
“How?”
“What am I, your fucking shrink? How the hell should I know? Buy her some beer or flowers or some shit like that.”
“How is it you’re still single?”
Schwartz made a sound that was almost a laugh, or as close to a laugh as the grumpy bastard could ever get.
“I really am sorry about what happened to you,” Grant said. “About Jenny and the accident and the fact that you live in the middle of nowhere with no one to keep you warm at night.”
“Jesus, dude. You’re seriously starting to depress me. Go get your woman and leave me the hell alone.”
“I love you, too, man.”
Schwartz grunted in reply, and before Grant could say anything else, he heard his brother’s line go dead. He stared at the phone for a minute, then put it back in his pocket.
“That was a beautiful Hallmark moment.”
Grant whirled around to see Mac standing behind him under a large palm tree. “Where the hell did you come from?”
“I followed you.”
Grant stood up, dusting the sand off his shorts. “You know, sometimes you’re downright creepy.”
“My wife says the same thing. I think she finds it charming.”
“Yeah, well, your brother finds it disturbing.”
“Speaking of brothers, it sounds like you’ve connected with ours.”
“What did you do, bug my phone?”
Mac didn’t answer, and Grant tried to decide how annoyed to be about that. He was saved from deciding when Mac folded his arms over his chest and stared him down.
“Do you remember what you said to me several months ago when I was behaving in a fashion that was not conducive to a positive romantic relationship?”
“I told you to pull your head out of your ass.”
“In a manner of speaking. And while I prefer to think I’m more refined than to offer that precise bit of advice, I’d like to invite you to do the same. Promptly, I should add.”
Grant sighed and dragged his hands down his face. “You talked to Anna?”
“No. I talked to our mother, who’d spoken with Sheri, who’d talked with Kelli during her dinner break. I would have gotten the news directly from my wife, but I prefer not to visit when she’s in the middle of neutering cats.”
“I can’t imagine why.”
“In any case, it sounds like you have problems.”
“And I suppose you plan to tell me how to solve them?”
Mac frowned. “Good God, no. I’m just here to tell you we have a tux fitting at 8:00 a.m.”
“You stalked me on an isolated beach to tell me that?”
Mac shook his head and pulled off his sunglasses, and Grant had a rare glimpse of his brother’s steely brown eyes. “Don’t fuck this up, Grant. I don’t know what all your demons are, but I know it gets a lot easier to fight them when you’re no longer doing battle alone.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning women have much bigger swords than you might imagine,” he said. “Now go make sure she doesn’t use hers on you.”
Chapter Fifteen
“I need to state, for the record, that I wouldn’t ordinarily give a client a bridal-shower gift with penises printed on the wrapping paper,” Anna said as she handed the package to Sheri. “Kelli insisted.”
As Anna kissed the bride-to-be on the cheek, Kelli beamed with pride. “I also insisted on a naughty-or-nice theme for the shower, but I may have forgotten to include the nice part. You’re welcome.”
Sheri laughed and hugged them both. “I don’t know what I’d do without you two.”
“You’d have an embarrassingly small collection of sex toys,” Kelli supplied. “Again, I say you’re welcome. Come on already, start opening the damn gifts.”
The thirty or so women attending the shower had arranged themselves in a sort of lopsided circle of folding chairs. Most balanced dainty slices of cake on paper plates, and nearly everyone held a champagne flute. It had been a good party so far, with lots of laughing and good food and happy congratulations for the bride. Anna smiled, grateful she’d been able to go with the flow despite feeling like her heart had been smooshed like a glob of frosting in the tines of a plastic fork. She had to put on a happy face for the bride. Just a few more days and she could fly home to Portland and forget about Grant and his brother and the whole damn Patton family.
Fat chance.
Sheri took her seat in a spot near the window flanked by her mother and Kelli. Anna stationed herself in the corner near the kitchen so she could help refill champagne glasses and gather discarded gift bows to make a bouquet for the rehearsal the next night.
Sheri spotted her and frowned, then waved her over. “Come on, Anna. Don’t stand there like you’re the hired help.”
“I am the hired help.”
“The last hired help in my life is set to be my husband in a few days,” Sheri said. “The Patton family takes a different view of the concept. We’re practically family, Anna. Come on.” She pointed to the empty chair beside Kelli. “Sit with us. That way we can all drink too much champagne and discuss what an ass-hat my brother is.”
“For the last time, your brother’s not an ass-hat,” Anna said as she trudged over to Sheri’s side of the room. She glanced around at the assembled women, most of whom were total strangers. She leaned down to Sheri and lowered her voice. “Can we please not make a public spectacle of the fact that I hooked up with your brother? It’s unprofessional.”
“Honey, please,” Kelli said. “Half the women in this room would give their left nipple to bang Grant, and the other half would give up their right. No one’s blaming you for falling.”
“It’s okay, Anna, I understand,” Sheri said, touching her arm. “I’ll stop bringing it up. I’m sorry.”
“Come on, let’s distract you with sex stuff,” Kelli said, reaching into the pile of gifts at Sheri’s feet.
“Sex stuff,” Anna said. “Always a good distraction.”
Sheri bent down to inspect the packages. “Should I open the one that looks like it’s filled with slutty lingerie, or the one that feels like an exceptionally heavy sex toy?”
“Sex toy,” Anna said, dropping into the empty chair and pulling out a notepad and her favorite clicky pen. “I’ll start a tally of how many batteries you’ll need.”
At the thought of batteries, Anna felt a pang of nostalgia. Christ, this was stupid. She’d only spent a week with Grant, and already she had tainted memories of batteries, coleslaw, and paddleboarding. Good thing the relationship hadn’t lasted longer or she wouldn’t have been left with much that didn’t remind her of him.
“Oooooh!” Kelli cried as Sheri tore the wrapping paper off the first package. “A spinning sex swing. Those are much sturdier than the kind you mount in a doorway.”
“We went in on it together,” called a perky-looking brunette across the room. “That’s from all the Patton cousins.”
“A little different from the playground equipment we enjoyed together when we were eight,” Sheri said, turning the box over in her hands. “Thank you so much.”
“You need to pass the gifts around, dear,” Stella said beside her. “That’s the proper etiquette.”
“I wasn’t aware there was etiquette involved in allowing thirty of my closest friends and family members to fondle my sex toys,” Sheri said, but passed the box toward her mother anyway.
She reached for another box, this one small and rectangular. Some sort of lingerie, Anna guessed, and watched as Sheri unwrapped a surprisingly tasteful white teddy.
Anna felt a stupid pang of jealousy and then wanted to kick herself. Would she ever have the chance to rip pink paper off tasteless gifts while her doting husband-to-be gathered with his buddies at a tuxedo shop in the days before their wedding? She thought about Grant trying on his tux and some
how the thoughts got all mixed up in her mind with Grant standing at the altar beaming while she floated down the aisle toward him.
Stop it, she commanded herself. Just because it’ll never be Grant doesn’t mean it won’t be anyone.
“I don’t want just anyone.”
She must have murmured it under her breath, because Kelli turned to look at her. “I hear you, sister. That’s one thing you can say for the Patton men. They’re not your average everyman.”
“Thank you, dear,” Stella said from the opposite side of Sheri, leaving Anna wondering if the woman had radar hearing. She wondered what else she knew about what had happened between her and Grant. Anna hadn’t meant to spill the whole story to Kelli on the phone a few days ago, but once she had, she’d felt better.
“Is this top secret?” Kelli had asked her. “My lips are sealed if it is.”
“You can tell Sheri if you want,” Anna said. “Discreetly, I mean. That way everything’s out in the open and there’s no awkwardness. I want the focus of the party to be on Sheri instead of the tramp who shagged her brother.”
Not that she didn’t feel awkward anyway, Anna thought now as she watched Sheri hand a pair of edible panties to her mother. She jotted the gift down on her notepad, along with the fact that it came from one of Sam’s sisters.
“Open that one next,” Kelli insisted, picking up an oblong box. “I think I heard it buzzing earlier.”
Anna busied herself jotting notes, making sure to provide enough detail to help Sheri write good thank-you notes later. She looked up every now and then when Kelli murmured something appreciative like, “that’s a huge one” or “the strawberry flavor is the best,” but mostly she kept her eyes on her notes as the wrapping paper piled up at her feet.
“Excuse me, Anna?”
Anna turned to the woman on her right, who held out an armload of sex toys and lingerie. “Sorry, I didn’t want to bother you while you were busy taking notes, but we’re backing up here.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said, tucking her pen into the coiled spine of her notepad. She held out her arms to accept the world’s largest assortment of sex paraphernalia. Lubes, crotchless teddies, vibrating panties—all of it toppled into Anna’s lap. She wrapped her arms around the pile, shifting her notebook to her knee. She glanced over at Sheri to see if the bride was blushing.