After her friends left, she began to busy herself with long overdue housework. Tiffany filled a bucket with the special soap for hardwood floors, grabbed the mop, and made her way to the living room. The old 1950’s radio sitting in the corner of the room called to her, so she turned the knob and found her favorite country station. The tunes washed over her as she set to work. The songs took her away to a more easygoing time in her life; a time when all she had were her dreams and plans; a time before her brother’s accident and senseless choices; a time before the shy grin and teasing eyes of an army corporal made her heart race and her stomach flutter.
Brad helped her through the anger that swelled as she watched two of the people she loved destroy something beautiful. He held her on the nights that the tears wouldn’t stop. He danced with her under the stars while her parents slept in the house. His tender care was like a salve to her hurting heart and she couldn’t have imagined going through those times without him.
Now it was just her to hold on to those moments. The burden of bearing the only memories of their life together weighed heavy on her shoulders. Who would bear the burdens with her now if Brad never recovered? It just seemed easier to do it on her own like she always had when he was gone. You can start fresh Emma’s words repeated despite the doubt Tiffany felt.
Banging and pounding on her door rattled the walls and reverberated over the music. The veracity of the sounds left her wondering who could need to see her. Maybe it’s Brad?
Letting the mop drop on the floor, she went to the door.
Before she could fully open the door, Ryder burst in, almost running into her. He took hold of her shoulders, pulling her close to him. Her hands went to his chest to keep from being fully pressed to his chest.
“Is he gone for good?” The eagerness in Ryder’s eyes set off warning bells in her heart as if to say, Be careful and tread slowly.
“I don’t know right now. All I know is that we have guests coming and some of the rooms need a good scrubbing and the grounds need to be mowed. For now, let’s put all our energy in that.”
That seemed to cool his excitement enough to put space between them once again. His boldness was a little much for her and she needed the distance. He gave her a mock salute as he turned to pick up his tool belt. She knew Ryder meant well but she feared he was getting too interested in the goings on of her unusual marriage.
Ryder turned to her before he stepped back outside, “You know I will always be here for you, don’t you? You’re important to me.”
His roguish grin made her smile. He was a constant flirt. “You mean like a sister, right?”
He lifted one shoulder, gave a wink and walked out the door. That was not the answer she wanted.
Brad’s insistence that she hire a crew to work on the house while he was gone is what brought the bold rocker to her door. Ryder was a doer, a server. His willingness to help her in any situation was touching. The longing looks he gave her were unnerving. What was she going to do with him? She needed the strong arms to help with the yard and house work, but her heart was beginning to wander. She could feel it. Ryder made her laugh. She loved to laugh. Each tender glance, each graze of Ryder’s hand made it more difficult to ignore each mile between her and Brad. With his continued stay at Ryan and Emma’s, the door to invite Ryder opened more. The war raged within her, only increasing the stress on her body and the pain in her belly.
“Why can’t this be easy?” she asked the empty room as she picked her mop back up.
All she wanted was her life with Brad back. The simple looks, the late candlelight dinners, and no Ryder muddying up her head.
Tiffany went about the next few hours, mopping and thinking; thinking and mopping. She didn’t stop to look outside or to see the time, she just lost herself in her thoughts and work, trying with each pass to forget the issues within this little triangle.
The sound of a door shutting jarred her from her thoughts. She looked out the window to see the bright afternoon light dimming as evening descended. The only one who should possibly still be there was Ryder and he was making an awful noise. When she got downstairs, she was surprised to find Brad standing in the middle of the living room. His all too familiar duffle bag was on the floor next to his feet and a question in his eyes. The sight of him brought back a small glimmer of hope.
“What are you doing here?” Tiffany looked out the window to see who brought him, yet no one exited her brother’s truck and it didn’t pull away. “You remembered how to drive?”
“Ryan gave me a refresher course. I should call the police department, but, well, I needed to talk to you.”
Brad cocked his foot out and crossed his arms in front of his chest nodding his head toward the door. “Where’s rocker boy? I see the lawn is mown.”
His snarky questions froze the warmth she felt in the heartbeats before. “Doing exactly what I pay him for.”
Remorse flickered across his face as his eyes dashed from hers. “I’m sorry about that. I don’t know what it is about that guy that gets under my skin.”
A glimmer of hope warmed her heart. He came home to her and cared about her enough to feel threatened. That alone was enough to fill her heart of no one else but her husband. It was just what she needed to persevere through this trial.
“Well, go put your things in the laundry and I’ll get some lemonade. We can talk about it, if you want.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He began to walk away but then stopped, turning slightly to her, “You know, I would have done that, if you’d asked.”
“The lawn? Do you know how to work the tractor?” She gave him a surprised look.
“No, but I think it could be fun if you taught me.” He gave her a wink and walked into the other room.
What was it with the men in her life and winking?
Brad stood on the porch of the west wing. Cars drove by at a snail’s pace. Having been home for five months now, he knew that school was about to end. Soon he would hear the kids laughing and screaming as they walked down the sidewalks or to the cars that lined the street. The childish antics of the little pedestrians always brought a smile to his face.
Being home brought a smile to his face. The fact that he thought of this place as home was a testament at how it and its other owner had grown on him. Ever since that first night at Ryan and Emma’s, he felt lighter. They had both taken time to pray for him after the kids went to bed. There was no recollection of ever praying before, but it felt right. It might have been one of the few things that felt right to him.; that and being around Tiffany. He liked being around her, even if she was hesitant. He didn’t understand her half the time, but the look in her baby blue eyes made him want to figure it all out. Maybe then the memories would come.
For now, he would enjoy teasing her. He liked the shade of pink Tiffany turned when she was embarrassed. Really, he liked that he could invoke any emotion. Ryan told him to not be afraid to pursue her. He could tell she was a good woman, a lovable woman, a woman worthy of all the love in the world. Brad just hoped he could give that to her.
Just as he was about to head in and get that sweetly tart drink she offered, a familiar head of hair passed his porch. Ryder rode by on the mower, protective headgear that resembled earmuffs firmly in place. The glare he received was unmistakable. The rocker punk pulled around the back of the house, putting the machine away. Brad made his way through each room to the living room in time to see Ryder stride through the door like he owned the place, making a beeline to the kitchen. All joy in what this day could have been evaporated with the angry fire that burned in him. This kid was on his property, in more ways than one.
Brad was about to follow him into the kitchen when the hushed voices of Tiffany and Ryder stopped him in his tracks.
“What makes you think you know so much?” Tiffany’s angered tones stalled his progression. Something made her upset but he had to let her handle it. The guy was her employee.
“I know much more than you think. I know how
you hate to eat alone and how you loathe having your food touch. I know how you like your coffee and your eggs. I also know how you long to be loved wholeheartedly. Do you honestly think that damaged man out there will know how to care for you?”
A raging storm brewed as Brad made his way to the kitchen. There was no way he was going to let the punk talk about him like that and ridicule her in the process.
“You don’t know that. You don’t know anything about what he and I had and could have again, if he lets it happen.”
Her hope for him slowed the rage as well as his progression, though he continued. Her words encouraged him to think more could be possible. He reached the doorway to the kitchen in time to see the rest of the exchange.
Her back was to him, but rocker boy faced him. Their eyes met and Ryder made a show of knowing that Brad was watching by giving him a sly smile. In slow motion, the kid made his moves.
“Okay, try this one on for size,” he took a step closer, something flashed in his eyes as he towered over her. “You hate being alone, your lady friends drive you crazy even though you love them, and last but not least,” he lifted a hand to her chin, tilting it to him then leaning low, “I know how much you hate your husband for being gone all the time. I know you feel like his duty to his men is more important than you are. Face it Tiff, it’s over for you two. Just move on, with me.”
The snake didn’t even let her reply and Brad watched as he took hold of her sweet lips, lips he had been dreaming of, with his slithering mouth.
A voice in his head yelled as Brad charged. There was no way this guy was moving in on his wife. Memories or not, she was still his and no one was going to steal her affections.
“Get your dirty hands off my wife,” he roared as he pulled his angel out of the way, raised a fist, and connected with his opponent’s face.
There was no response to the contact as Ryder hit the floor before he had a chance to fight back. Her screams pulled him back from the white-hot rage only for a second.
Brad stood over the man on the floor, ready to issue the next blow. He had no problem making the kid bleed for advancing on her. There wouldn’t be a husband alive who wouldn’t defend their house and family, at least not in his mind.
“Get up, coward.” Brad nudged him with his boot.
“Brad, no. You can’t hit him again.” Her voice sung in his ears as she took hold of his arm.
“Why not?” He was ready to fight. “This sick dog was mauling you.” He couldn’t wait to finish the task. He wanted to beat the kid right out the door and to his truck.
Tiffany stood in his line of sight, putting her hands on both sides of his face. “Your hands are weapons. No matter how wrong he is, you can’t hit him again.”
“Why?” He couldn’t understand why.
“Trust me. I will tell you when he leaves.”
Tiffany lifted his face to focus on her instead of the lump on the floor. Tears filled her blue eyes, one making its way down her cheek breaking his resolve along its path. He nodded his retreat while unclenching his fist.
“Get out, Ryder,” Brad told him. “I don’t want to see you around here ever again.”
Ryder stood, defiance in his eyes. “Not so tough now, are you? Lucky for you Tiffany stepped in.”
Tiffany did an about face, pointing her finger into Ryder’s chest, “No, it is lucky for you I stepped in. He would have killed you.” She shifted said finger to the door, “Now get out. You’re fired. I’ll mail you your check.”
Pride in the warrior goddess that stood in front of him filled his chest. The woman was a force to be reckoned with and she triggered a fresh desire to discover more.
CHAPTER 15
ONE MINUTE SHE was asking herself what made Brad come back while mixing the lemonade and the next she was firing Ryder for his forward behavior. It didn’t matter if his assessment of her was correct or not, when she saw the glint in his eye and conniving grin on his face she knew it was for show, at least a little bit. She felt like the matador trying to tame two raging bulls was enough to make her head spin.
Not quite ready to turn and face her rescuer, she held a hand up when he said her name and walked into the other room. She had been called out on what her true thoughts and feelings were when she didn’t fully grasp them herself. As she entered the living room, the squeal of spinning tires of Ryder’s truck caught her attention. Tiffany wondered if he understood the difficult position he put her in by acting the way he had. Did he know the damage he just caused to their friendship? The loss of all the time they shared chipped away at her heart, the pain of it causing pools of sadness to leak from her eyes. Things would never be the same again.
There was another relationship that seemed to change and maybe even in a good direction. It was the one with Brad. For the past few months, she was a caregiver more than a wife. She didn’t mind, too much, but the moment Brad stormed into the kitchen, acknowledging her as his wife and defending her, lifted a shadow from her heart.
Tiffany sat on the not so comfortable couch, admiring the beauty of the historic tile work on the fireplace. It was Brad’s favorite part of the house, he told her. “I see many nights cuddling in front of it. Don’t you?” The memory of his breath caressing her skin as they walked through the house over a year ago caused an involuntary move to touch her neck. Oh, to have moments like that again.
A steaming mug with the face of Winnie the Pooh dangled from a familiar hand. He didn’t say a word. She took the mug from him and gave him a smile. His wink told her he needed the silence as much as she did.
“Coffee instead of lemonade?” She was sure she had finished the batch that was an old family recipe.
“I think we need to talk, and this just sounded better. Something warm and soothing.”
“Are you sure you don’t remember things?” She watched him for any hints. “Before, when you were home, we would sit here on the couch with a cup of coffee and have a nice long chat. We made an effort to focus on us without all the distractions.”
All Brad did was nod as he moved a coaster to the coffee table in front of the couch and placed his own mug on it. He moved to the wood piled next to the fireplace and began to stack the wood in such a way that would ensure good flames. Although the days were warming, the evenings still had a chill to them. Plus, there was nothing better than a fireside chat with a handsome man.
His back and arm muscles pulled tight against his shirt. The army sweats stretched over his defined thighs. He crouched in slow motion and she caught the pause of his movement before he finished his descent in front of the fireplace. An old knee injury was bothering him, but it didn’t deter her admiration for the man before her. The weeks in bed clearly did not cause permanent damage to his physique.
Once the flame was lit, he rose to watch the progress of the fire. Her eyes remained level as he stood. She thought to look away from the direct line of sight her gaze now held, but she couldn’t avert her eyes. The upside down triangular shape of his fine, toned body ended at a perfect point that caught her attention every time. If he only knew that the fire in front of him was not the only flame burning.
“If you continue to stare at my backside as hard as you are, you might make me blush.”
His tease broke her concentration, and she did her best to look everywhere else but at him. “I have no clue what you are talking about.”
“Bull. Your eyes are burning a hole in my left cheek.” He turned and gave her a knowing smile.
“Oh, sit down. Then I’ll stop.”
The interaction felt good. It was familiar.
“I understand, you know. That it’s hard for you not to look at me and not think of the past. I just wish I could remember too.”
“Understanding or not, I need to show a little self-control and respect for you.”
Brad sat at the other end of the couch once he was satisfied with the fire. The weight of him could be felt in the dip that reached to where she sat. His legs stretched out in front of hi
m while one arm draped over the back of the couch and the other rested on the arm. He watched the fire while she watched him. The flickers of thoughts and emotions flashed on his face as the grandfather clock ticked-tocked. Fully satisfied with her perusal and content with having him in the house again, she turned her attention back to the fireplace.
For one moment, it was like nothing changed. The two of them sat in the quiet while the wood cracked and popped under the pressure of the flame. Typically, she would read while curling into his side. He would read a magazine.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Brad inquired.
“I’m not sure you want to know.”
“It’s about things that once were?”
“Something like that.”
“Well, I am really hating the silence right now. I need some conversation to distract me.”
“What do you need a distraction from?” the tightening of his jaw gave her a clue. “Are you still upset from the scene in the kitchen?”
His fist clinched as he nodded his agreement. She looked to the clock to see the time, noting it had been an hour since the altercation.
“Okay, well, how about a thank you for coming to my rescue?”
The corner of his mouth turned up. “You are welcome.”
“How was the couch?”
“More comfortable than this thing. Where did you find this? It looks more comfortable than it is.” And this interaction was the most comfortable they had been with each other since his return.
“It came with the house. You loved it. I had it reupholstered and stuffed by the shop downtown.”
“I hope they gave you a deal.”
“Nope.”
More questions passed as the clock struck the hour and the sun began to set. Many of the questions were ones he asked when they first started dating. She couldn’t help but smile at the memories their conversation sparked. She basked in the joy and laughter as a camaraderie passed between them. Then it stopped.
I Know the Plans Page 11