Riptide (A Renegades Novel)

by Skye Jordan

  Perfect. His brothers. The older one was so green with envy over Grant’s career success, he constantly took cuts at Grant’s game like the fucker knew what he was talking about. The younger one so wild, Grant was shocked he was still alive. Sure the only reason he wasn’t incarcerated was because their father repeatedly bailed him out.

  Now Grant wished he’d thought this decision through better. But there had been a sliver of hope that his family had changed over the years. And the fact that they hadn’t, that they may even be worse than they’d once been, both hurt and deflated Grant.

  “This was a bad fuckin’ idea,” he muttered rubbing the tension from his face. Now he felt stuck. He’d promised Dwayne. Dwayne would have promised the kids by now. And one thing Grant hated to do was let kids down. He knew how that felt and avoided it at all costs.

  “Stay in the guest house if you need your own space,” his mother added.

  What fuckin’ choice did he have? He could get a hotel, but the closest one was a few miles out of town and he’d end up driving back and forth all day, every day.

  “I’ll think about it.” He bent, picked up the tree, and dragged it toward the front window, where their Christmas tree had reached toward the open-beamed ceilings for as long as he could remember. “And for the last time, stop trying to force Natalie on me. I have a life in DC. A damned good one. I’m not staying here, and no one is going to change my mind about what I do for a living. Sure as hell not a woman.”

  He gripped the netting and took out his frustration on the nylon, ripping it open. “Now where do you want this damn thing?”

  Four

  Faith knelt on the floor at the back of the store surrounded by miles of tangled Christmas lights. Overwhelmed, she looked up at Dwayne. “And why, exactly, did you wait until the week before Christmas to bring this to me?”

  “Ah...” He grimaced and scratched his head. “I wasn’t sure whether or not I was going to do it this year. And I thought I’d be able to figure it out on my own. But I’m just realizing why MaryAnn spent weeks on setting this up every year.” He sighed and shook his head. “I wouldn’t ask you... I know how busy you get during the holidays...but...” He lifted his gaze to Faith’s and the pain there resonated with her intimately. “I can’t take the darkness or the silence anymore. The holidays were so lively, so full of fun, when MaryAnn was here...”

  His voice broke. He dropped his gaze to the mess on the floor with a sad laugh, but not before Faith saw his eyes glisten with tears.

  Her heart broke for him. For herself. For all the Christmas’ ahead that she and Dwayne would have to spend without the people they loved in their lives.

  Holding back her own pain, Faith pushed to her feet, stepped over the light strands and gripped Dwayne’s biceps. She worked up a smile and squeezed his arms. “I understand. Perfectly. I’ll get this working for you Dwayne. I promise.”

  He lifted a wobbly smile just as a young male voice bellowed Faith’s name. “Auntie Faith! Auntie Faith! Where are you?”

  Dwayne smiled, the expression sad. Hollow. “Ty.”

  “Yeah.” She dropped her arms and planted her hands on her hips. “His mom’s got some work to do. He’s helping me here today.”

  Dwayne’s laugh was tired. “Oh, well...good luck with that. If you figure out a way to get him to pay more attention on the ice, let me know. Thanks for...um...”—he gestured to the equipment—“this.”

  “Of course.”

  Ty ran past the aisle. Then his tennis shoes squeaked to a halt on the linoleum floor and he reappeared near the end cap. “Auntie Faith, guess who’s here?”

  Faith grinned at the boy’s ever-present enthusiasm. “Hi,Caleb. I’m fine, thanks for asking.”

  “But...but...but guess who’s in town.”

  Dwayne laughed. “You gotta knock that off, kid. He’s not going to put up with any fangirling.”

  “There you are.” Emma appeared at the end of the aisle behind her son. “Jeez,Caleb. What happened to waiting for me?”

  Ty glanced over his shoulder. “You always talk with Cody’s mom forever.”

  Faith crossed her ams and looked at Emma. “What’s going on?” Man, she hoped Caleb’s father hadn’t started coming around. The asshole would just bail like he always did and break Caleb’s heart again. “Sounds pretty exciting.”

  Ty’s head snapped back toward Faith. “Grant Saber is here,” he said with the same awe and enthusiasm as Faith would have expected from him at a Monster Truck show. “And he’s helping with the team.”

  The only team Caleb could have been talking about was the hockey team. No matter how hard Emma tried, she couldn’t get her nerdy boy interested in any other sport or team.

  “You like that, huh?” Dwayne asked, patting Caleb’s shoulder as he wandered pass and down the aisle.

  “Yeah,” Caleb said with a tone of ‘duh’.

  “Ty” was all Emma had to say before the boy realized his misstep.

  “I mean, yes, sir. It’s awesome. He’s really cool.”

  “Extra cool since he only came to help out the high school team, but stayed over to help your club team, huh?” Dwayne asked, the first real grin lighting his eyes.

  “Totally.” Then suddenly, Caleb’s excitement turned to concern. “He’ll come again, right? I mean, he wasn’t there for just today...”Caleb’s worried gaze darted to Emma. “Mom? I didn’t get his autograph. I thought he’d be back.”

  Emma was beaming. Caleb’s disinterest in sports or even playing on the playground in favor of quieter endeavors had caused the already-introverted boy to be shoved aside for more active, more popular friends in school.

  “Autograph, huh?” Faith said, shooting a questioning gaze toward Emma. “Well if you stick around long enough, he’ll be here. He’s been in at least three times a day for the last two days.”

  “Really?” Caleb said.

  Dwayne strolled past Caleb, patting his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Caleb, he’s here for a few weeks. But you’d better get all that excitement out before you hit the ice this afternoon. He wants you kids focused and ready to work.”

  “Yes, sir,” he said, serious and stoic. “I will, sir. I promise.”

  Dwayne chuckled, said hello to Emma and waved goodbye to Faith.

  Before Faith could ask Emma or Caleb about Grant—more specifically why Caleb wanted his autograph—Ty looked at Faith and said, “How old would I have to be to work here Aunt Faith?”

  Faith’s brows shot up. “Well, that’s new. You didn’t want to have anything to do with helping out a few months ago.”

  “So you’ll let me?”

  Faith lifted his gaze to Emma, grinning. “I’ll talk to your mom about it.”

  “Thanks, Aunt Faith.” He turned to his mother. “Can I go look at the fishing poles?”

  “From hockey to fishing in a split second.” A little of the excitement leaked from Emma’s expression. “Sure.”

  Ty hurried in the direction of the outdoors department where Faith carried a limited supply of recreational gear for tourists, and Emma came toward Faith.

  “That’s who you met at the bar the other night,” she said, voice lowered. “The guy you said asked you out, right? Grant Saber?”

  “Yeah.” Her stomach tightened. “Why? Who is he?”

  “He’s a center for the Rough Riders.” Her voice and expression held as much excitement as her son’s.

  But Faith was having a hard time placing the Rough Riders. “I’m guessing that’s a hockey team?”

  That accounted for his great build. This notoriety Faith couldn’t appreciate was obviously why he’d thought she should have known him. It also seemed to be what he was looking for every time he came into the store.

  “It’s an NHL team, Faith.”

  “Don’t say that like I’m supposed to know. You know I don’t have time to watch television. And I only pretended to watch sports to keep Dad company.”

  “Why has he been coming in? Did he ask
you out again? Because you should go. He’s hot. And he’s loaded.”

  “And he’s just looking to get laid like his brothers.” She gave Emma a look. “You hate his brothers. You turn them down every time they’re in town. Why would you suggest I go out with Grant?” Suddenly she was mad. “Do you really think I’m so bad off that I need to go out and fuck some slutty player? Because I’ve got more important things—“

  “No.” Emma’s hand closed over Faith’s forearm, her voice level again, her eyes serious. “That’s not what I meant.”

  Faith shut her mouth and lifted both hands to her face to rub at her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m tired.” She’d lost sleep over Grant. Grant and all the little fantasies he’d stirred in her head. She swept a gesture over the lighting extravaganza equipment. “And Dwayne just dumped this project on me.”

  She crouched and started winding light strands from palm to elbow, palm to elbow.

  “What I meant,” Emma said, “is that he’s not his brothers. He’s never been in town. This is the first time he’s been back since he went pro.”

  Now she was sort of impressed that he hadn’t told her that he was a pro hockey player, or that he was here to help coach the local teams when he’d come into the store. And she didn’t want to be impressed. Because she didn’t have time or patience for this shit. “That doesn’t matter. He’s still looking to get laid. What is it about these guys? Do they think we’re all hard up because we’re out here in the boonies? It may be true, but it’s still insulting.”

  Emma laughed. Hard. Which brought a reluctant smile to Faith’s lips.

  “It is really cool to see Caleb excited about something, though,” Faith said. “I haven’t seen his eyes light up like that in a long time.”

  “Right?” Emma said. “So? Is that why he’s been in here so much?”

  Faith shrugged as she finished rolling a strand, secured the end and started on another. She’d be here the rest of the day untangling these things. “Hey Caleb,” she yelled through the store. “If you come untangle these lights for me, I’ll pay you.”

  “Stop avoiding the question,” Emma said.

  When Caleb didn’t yell back or appear, Faith muttered, “So much for working here.” Then she told Emma, “Grant’s staying with his parents. Apparently they don’t get along all that well, so he picked up some odd jobs around the house to stay busy and away from them. He’s always here picking up supplies and asking for advice.”

  “And? Are you helping him?”

  “Sure.” She smiled up at Emma now. “I tell him to search YouTube.”

  “Faith...” Emma dropped her arms and rolled her eyes.

  “I don’t have time to babysit him. He’s a grown-ass man. He can figure it out himself.”

  Emma heaved an exasperated sigh.

  “And speaking of YouTube, when can we get together to figure something out for me? I’m serious, Emma. I’m bleeding money faster than it’s getting pumped back in. It’s only a matter of time. Do you want me to sell this place and move away from you and Caleb? Because that’s about where my life is headed at the moment.”

  A pained look came over Emma’s face. Faith hated to paint such a bleak picture, but she was very serious. And that was what Faith saw in her future.

  “Fine.” Emma crossed her arms again. “You need to think of a project, and I need to get some things done so I can focus on teaching you the steps—“

  Faith didn’t hear anything Emma said after that, because Grant sauntered around the corner and into their aisle. His gaze fastened on Faith with bold deliberateness and made her stomach jump to her throat.

  “Do I hear you ladies talking about YouTube?” he asked, wandered toward them. Emma spun around, but Grant’s gaze stayed locked on Faith in a way that made her mouth go dry. A slow smile tipped his mouth. “Because I’d be real interested in getting in on video with y’all.”

  A laugh bubbled up from nowhere. “Y’all?” Faith said, hiding her nerves behind sarcasm. “You picked up a southern accent in the last...” She pretended to look at a non-existant watch. “What? Three, four hours?”

  He laughed. “You’re so funny.”

  “I try.” She pulled her gaze off all the muscle stretching the soft fabric of his Henley and grabbed another string of lights. “I need something to keep me from”—fantasizing about you—“going insane.”

  “Hi,” Emma said, extending her hand. “I’m Emma, Caleb’s mom.”

  “Grant,” was all he offered as they shook. “Yeah, saw him messing around with the fishing poles. He told me you were back here.” He took his hand back and slipped his thumb into the front pocket of his jeans, which drew Faith’s gaze to an area she had no business looking at. “Great kid. Little hyper for hockey, but if I can get him to channel it, he’s going to streak across the ice.”

  Emma laughed. “If you get him to channel it, I’ll pay handsomely for the secret.” She looked at Faith. “I’d better go find him before he breaks something.” Then she told Grant, “Nice to meet you.”

  “You too.”

  When his gaze settled on Faith again, he grinned. And it was that expectant grin again. As if he were waiting for her to go all bat-shit crazy over him.

  “What have you got there?” she asked instead, glancing at the rusted faucet he held in his hand. “And how are you finding so many things that need fixing at your parents’ house? That place looks like a pristine mansion from the outside.”

  “Kitchen faucet,” he said, “and its not from the main house, it’s from the guest house. That’s where I’m staying. And when I’m fixing something, neither of my parents bitch at me. So I’m happy to do it.”

  “That has to suck.”

  He lifted a shoulder, but broke eye contact and studied the faucet. “Whatever.” He refocused on her. “Are you going to wind all those yourself?”

  “I tried to tempt Caleb with a paycheck, but those fishing reels must have really caught his eye.”

  “I’ll help.” He moved forward. “And you don’t even have to pay me.”

  She smirked. “Oh, no?”

  He dropped into a crouch, looked her directly in the eye and grinned. “I’m more into trades.”

  Setting aside the faucet, he dropped to his butt, crossed his legs and grabbed the tail end of a light strand.

  “We’re not trading anything,” she clarified.

  “That remains to be seen.”

  “You must have better things to do.”

  “Than sit here and look at you?” he asked. “Nope. Notta one.” When Faith just shook her head, he asked, “So what’s your project? The one you were talking to Emma about?”

  Faith’s stomach tightened. “How long were you eavesdropping?”

  “Why? Saying things you don’t want me to hear? About me maybe?”

  “Pfffft. We weren’t talking about you.”

  “If you say so. But it would probably be better for you to just tell me about the video you’re planning, because I’m sure your version would be tamer than the things I have rolling around my brain right now.”

  “And why are you so sure of that?” She was caught between annoyance for his arrogance and amusement at the lengths he was going to gain her attention. “Because I live in the boondocks, you don’t think I can think just as dirty as you?”

  His hands halted in the middle of winding a strand. He lifted his brows in a teasing expression, but his pretty eyes took on a little shadow of heat. “Should we compare notes?”

  Man, that voice. The smooth, low rumble, rolled over her like warm water and settled heat low in her gut. But she chirped, “No, thanks.”

  And he chuckled, refocusing on the lights. “Hey, I’m really sorry to hear about your dad.”

  The warm, authentic tone of his voice drew her head up.

  He glanced at her, then back at the lights. “I didn’t know him well, but he was always real nice to me.”

  The sadness that always came with the reminder of her father�
��s death weighed heavy in her heart. “Thanks. He was an amazing man.”

  They continued to wind lights in silence for a minute or two, but the time stretched into an eternity while Faith kept trying to figure him out.

  When she couldn’t and her frustration won out, Faith tied off another strand and tossed it into the growing pile. “Why are you sitting on the floor winding lights?”

  He looked up. “I’m helping.”

  She tipped her head and gave him a come-on look.

  He grinned, shrugged. “Maybe I’m trying to come up with a way to ask you out that you can’t refuse.” He darted a glance at her from beneath those thick lashes. “Maybe I’m hoping if you get to know me a little, you’ll say yes. Maybe—“

  “Maybe you don’t want to go home,” she finished for him.

  “Maybe. But those other things are true too.” He tossed another rolled strand into the pile. “I’m dying to know what project you’ve got planned with this mess.”

  She sighed—partly because of the mess in front of her and partly because over the last couple of days, she’d grown to like the guy. And she didn’t want to like him. “This isn’t my proj—“

  Something clicked in her head. Her hands froze. And she looked at the pile again, but this time she saw something other than a headache. She saw an opportunity.

  “What just put that spark in your eye?” Grant asked.

  She met his gaze and when she found true interest there, she explained her thoughts about following Emma’s example on YouTube. “Emma makes really good money doing it. Granted, she talks about a totally different topic, and my knowledge may not generate the same interest, but...”

  “But you’ve got to try.” He leaned back against a shelf, stretched out his legs and crossed his feet at the ankle. Then met her eyes as he tossed more lights into the pile. “Because from what I heard, it sounds like you don’t have much of a choice.”

  Her shoulders fell, and she looked away, ashamed to be stuck in this spot. Worse, she hated telling a stranger how desperate she was. Especially a stranger who had more money that he knew what to do with. “I’ll figure it out.”