by Ava Miles
“Of course,” she said, feeling uncomfortable now. “It’s your house, after all.”
“It’s yours too, and don’t forget that.” He coughed like he was trying to clear cobwebs from his throat.
Clayton laid another file on Rye’s lap. “Here’s the initial police report, which isn’t complete by any means, but I was able to get a copy because I went to school with one of the guys on the force. Are you sure you want to see it, Tammy? It outlines what happened…in a…well, a straight-forward police sort of way. And there are pictures of Bandit that will turn your belly.”
Everything inside her wanted to revolt at the thought of seeing what that man had done to her son’s dog.
Rye cocked a brow at her. “You don’t need to, Tammy.”
Putting on this new armor of hers, she bit her lip. “No, I need to know.”
The pictures of that sweet little dog were ghastly, and she squeezed her eyes shut, fighting tears. Dear God, Bandit was lucky to be alive. He’d been kicked bloody, and oh, it was too horrible.
Rye pried the file from her fingers. “Enough. Sometimes seeing things doesn’t help, and this is one of those occasions. Damn that bastard to hell. It looks like he tried to kick Bandit to death.”
“Yes,” Clayton said with an edge now. “They can’t determine if Bandit bit the man, but they swabbed his mouth just in case. The tests will be back soon.”
He was talking about DNA, she realized, and she hoped Bandit had taken a chunk of that horrible man’s flesh.
“We’ll catch the bastard, Tammy. Pardon my language.”
“That’s a polite name for the man who did this,” she said, feeling like her body was held together by nothing but toothpicks.
“Amen,” Rye said.
“And we’re keeping a lid on everything, saying as little to the press as possible,” Clayton said. “I’ve talked personally to the chief of police about it. There won’t be a tabloid incident this time. That I can guarantee.”
The thought drove a spear of fear straight through her heart. Would someone leak something like this to the press? She couldn’t imagine why they would. Then again, people had stopped making sense to her long ago.
They looked up when the door clicked open. Daddy strolled into the office with John Parker behind him.
“Y’all having a meeting in here or something?” Daddy asked.
Rye rolled his eyes. “Well, hell, why don’t we invite the whole gang in here? Call roll. Take a vote.”
Daddy went over to the bar tucked in the corner and took out a bottle of Jack Daniels. “Anyone want a drink?”
The men all accepted his invitation, and Tammy stood. “I’d like one too.”
“It’s pretty strong stuff,” Daddy cautioned her, and it was like a Christmas present that he hadn’t refused her outright like he might have done in the past.
“It’s time I got tough,” she told him.
John Parker, who’d walked up behind her, closed his hands on her shoulders. “You don’t need to be that tough, honey.”
Still angry at him, even though she hadn’t yet had the chance to tell him so, she leveled him a glance over her shoulder. “I’ll decide how tough I need to be.”
Rye downed his shot in one swallow, and Clayton did the same. Daddy and John Parker sipped theirs. All of the men watched as Daddy extended a highball glass to her. The smell was enough to take paint off a barn, but she raised it to her lips and downed it just like they had. It took some doing not to cough and sputter, but she managed even though her throat felt like a blazing inferno had rolled through it.
“Feel tougher?” John Parker nearly growled.
She didn’t, but she needed to show these men that she was just as strong they were. This was not tea time at Mrs. Habershak’s garden party. She was rarely the sole woman in the company of men, and it felt a little…well, intimidating.
Daddy eased into the chair Clayton had vacated for him and picked up the police report, paging through it. “From this account, you and the kids were very lucky, Tammy,” he commented after a while.
“I know it,” she whispered, unable to forget the pictures of Bandit’s injuries.
John Parker paced across the floor and took the report from Daddy as soon as he set it aside. When he was finished, he slammed it down on the desk and crossed his arms over his chest, his face darkening. “Do they have any leads, Clayton?”
“Not that I’m aware of yet. Rye, we’re combing through social media to look for any strange fans, but none of them register for this. You know we keep an eye out for crazies at all times, and no one new has shown up lately, so this seems out of the blue.”
“And yet, the whole burglary suggests a large degree of intent,” Daddy said, “all the way down to using a boat. Smart move there.”
“We’re pulling a lot of threads on our end,” Clayton continued. “The police are hoping the burglar will try and sell your CMA award, but I just don’t see that happening. It’s too risky. This guy doesn’t strike me as a dumb hick.”
“Me either,” Daddy commented. “We’ll just have to trust the police to do their job.”
“Exactly,” Clayton said, “and by the way, Detective Rawlings is going to call and set up a time to take…you and Tammy through the rest of the house to make sure nothing else is missing. They’ve already gone through the security company’s list of valuables, but they want to double check for more personal items.”
Rye set his glass aside. “I’ll have Tory help if you don’t want to do it with me, Tammy. I don’t want that to…stir you up.”
“I’m already stirred up plenty.”
Daddy rose and put a steadying hand on Tammy’s shoulder. “I’ll stay as long at the house as you need, darlin’.”
She covered his hand with her own. “I appreciate that, Daddy.”
“I’m going back to the kids,” he said. “I suggest you come with me. Rory’s been asking after you.”
“I’ll be there shortly,” she told him, “but first I want to talk to John Parker.” It was time for a reckoning. “Will y’all excuse us?”
Rye and Clayton shrugged and took off after Daddy, shutting the door quietly behind them.
Tammy turned to look at John Parker, taking in the stubborn set of his chin, a look she hadn’t seen on him before. “I know you and Rye have decided you should stay here, but you need to understand that I don’t like you two making decisions about me and the kids without seeking my opinion.”
“With you and I growing closer, I didn’t think you’d mind. Rye and I only care about protecting you and the kids.”
“I’m aware of that, and I’ll admit that part of me wants to let you. This whole thing has shaken me to the core.” Yet she couldn’t, wouldn’t let it defeat her newfound sense of independence. “But Rye’s hiring security guards, so we’ll be fine.”
“What exactly bothers you about me staying here? I promise I won’t be in your way.”
Why couldn’t he understand? “It’s superfluous when there are guards. You won’t be doing anything more than they can.”
“Is that what you think after kissing me upstairs? Here I thought I would be able to support you and the kids and ease your fears by being around. Hold y’all some when you need a shoulder. Dammit, Tammy, you’re making me sound like the bad guy here.”
Seeing him lose his temper was such a shock, it took everything in her to stand her ground. “I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, John Parker. You can support us by coming over here, but you don’t need to stay.”
He stared off for a moment and took a deep breath before meeting her gaze again. “It’s a big house, Tammy. Wouldn’t you and the kids feel better, knowing I was sleeping down the hall?”
Of course she would, but that wasn’t the point. “We need to figure out how to feel safe again on our own, John Parker.”
“So you don’t want my help?” He shook his head. “This isn’t just about you, you know. What about me, worrying about you and the
kids each night? And your family? Heck, Rye wanted to cancel his tour.”
“I know. But he can’t.”
“Oh, he could all right. He wouldn’t blink at the backlash from his fans or the millions of dollars in lost revenue. He’s going back to the tour because he knows I’ll look after the three of you.”
As a tool, guilt had worked for years, but she couldn’t let it sway her now. “Don’t you see how that sounds? You’re implying I can’t look out for myself and my kids.”
He held out his hands to her, fingers spread, like he was making a plea. “If that’s the way you hear it, then you need to clean your ears. I’m only saying, obviously poorly, that I want to be an extra supporter around here. Heck, even my mama and sisters would admit they’d feel better knowing a man is sleeping in the house if there’s some kind of threat, and they’re some of the most independent women I know.”
For a while, she had felt the same way. Until the man in her house had turned on her and made her fear him. Fear being in her own home. “Don’t you understand how archaic that sounds?”
“You’re not following me,” he burst out, and it was the first time he’d ever raised his voice in her presence. “What I mean is you don’t have to do this alone. If you don’t want me to stay, I’ll come over as often as I can, but I think you’re refusing the easier solution.”
He would see it that way. “You don’t know what it’s like to never have stood on your own, John Parker. Do you think I’m not afraid? That I don’t want to let you be the big strong man who keeps the monsters away? Well, I learned something about myself last night. I can protect my children if they need protecting. Do I ever want to do that again? Not in a million years. But I’m capable of solving my own problems, John Parker, and I wouldn’t give that up for the world.”
He gestured to the door. “And what about the kids? Don’t you think they would feel better, having a man around?”
“I don’t know,” she said bitterly. “Their father never exactly made them feel safe.”
For a long moment, he stood there silently, his jaw ticking. “You darn well know I’m not him and that the kids have never felt that way around me.”
Since his pain was evident, she closed the distance between them and touched his arm. “I know, and I’m sorry if you took offense. Please try and understand why this is important to me.”
Finally he cupped her cheek, and she saw the sensitive man who’d kissed her this morning. “I’m trying, but you should know it’s not easy for me. I don’t understand why you won’t let me support you.”
As though it belonged there, she covered his hand with her own. “I am letting you support me, and this way, we’ll have some space between us to…see how things grow.”
His mouth quirked up then. “So you’re not shutting me out completely?”
She sighed long and deep, feeling like she’d finally gotten through to him. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, only you’ve been too stubborn to listen.”
He took a moment then and rubbed their foreheads together, a gesture so sweet and endearing her heart finally settled down from its erratic beating.
“Okay. I hear you. I don’t like it, but I hear you. Now, how about I kiss you again to reassure us both?”
“Oh, John Parker,” she whispered, her heart rate kicking back up. “I am so not good at this.”
His body pressed against hers, all warm and male and strong. Her hands wrapped around him of their own accord, wanting the connection, wanting to be held.
“You mentioned earlier about forging a new path for yourself and the kids. I want to be a part of that.”
She was afraid she would grow to rely on him too much if she let him in, but she knew deep down she had to try. “It’s all so new.”
“And here I’ve been trying not to rush you.”
He laughed and leaned back until his face was just inches away from hers. Those blue eyes stole her breath, and she rose on her tiptoes so their lips could meet, silencing all the earlier misunderstandings and frustration.
The first brush was delicate and sweet, and he took his time showing her there could be kindness and comfort in a kiss. Yet as their lips continued to slide over each other, she felt the unstoppable urge for more. She gripped his back, and he answered her by sliding his tongue between her lips.
It was shocking, being kissed like that. Sterling had never been much on kissing, and the feel of John Parker inside her mouth rocked her to the core. Her fingers dug into his skin, and he rubbed his tongue over hers, a move so carnal she uttered a low moan before realizing what she’d done. Breaking free, she put a hand to her sensitive mouth.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“For what, honey?”
“I’m…not…well, this will sound stupid, but I haven’t really…ah…kissed like that.”
Those blue eyes fired. “Did you like it?”
Blushing madly, she stared at his chest, unable to look at him. “Oh, John Parker.”
His hand rubbed her back, slow and easy, but what she was feeling inside was anything but.
“Well, did you? There’s no need to be embarrassed with me.”
Her hands framed her hot face. “That doesn’t seem to matter.”
He took her hands in his and brought one up to his lips, kissing it gently. “Would it help if I told you it’s like the sky thunders when you kiss me like that?”
Her cheeks must be scarlet red now. “Oh, John Parker.”
“I love it when you say my name like that.”
Was there a shade redder than scarlet? “You shouldn’t say things like that.”
His dimple winked. “Says who? Telling the woman in your arms she’s beautiful and that she arouses you seems like the most natural thing in the world to me.”
That resonated with her, and she realized she was acting like the old Tammy, with her red cheeks and school-marmish bashfulness. This new sensual Tammy unsettled her, but she’d have to befriend it and see what it told her about herself. That made it much easier to confess, “I like it when you kiss me like that too.”
“Good, because I plan to do a whole lot more of it,” he said. “But not this minute. I’ve kept you long enough from the kids.”
His regard for her children made her take to her tiptoes and kiss him again on the cheek. “Thank you for that.”
He took her hand in his, and together, they walked out of the study. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, honey. I’m only here to support you.”
She knew he meant well, but it would be too easy for her to fall back into old habits and let him take care of everything.
And she couldn’t let that happen again.
Chapter 20
Tory had declared they needed a family meal, and even though everyone would likely only push the food around on their plates, preparing the fixings lent an air of normalcy to the overly quiet house. While Tory busily readied ingredients in the outdoor kitchen, John Parker helped Rye with the smoker situated at the far end of the patio.
The kids sat in the sandbox, and Annabelle had Barbie tucked against her side while Rory poured sand out of his shovel over and over like he was hypnotized. He’d asked again about visiting Bandit, but Rye had told him tomorrow before Tammy could answer. While Rye had immediately apologized, her hands had balled into fists at her sides.
John Parker’s frustration over her refusal to let him stay with her and the kids had returned. Why couldn’t she see they were only trying to help?
The woman he’d now kissed twice didn’t look like a woman in the new grip of attraction. She was seated on the sandbox’s timber frame, watching the kids and brushing away an occasional mosquito. Even though it was as hot as Hades outside, everyone was enduring it. They all wanted to help the kids feel safe and happy again in what had been their own slice of country heaven, as Rye called it.
Hampton and Amelia Ann were sitting in the shade in a pair of matching red-cushioned patio chairs. Her short
, frayed jean skirt; sleeveless, form-fitting navy top; and red cowboy boots were a stark contrast to Tammy’s navy Capri pants, white shirt, and gold sandals. She’d changed since this morning, apparently not liking the clothes the police had picked out for her.
He’d seen pictures of both women before they’d broken free of their mama, and he knew how far they’d come in escaping her influence.
Especially Tammy.
She still wanted to go further, become more independent, and he wasn’t sure where that left him. A man helped the woman he loved, and she him. Would she mark her territory so starkly that there wouldn’t be any space for him?
Rye elbowed him in the side after loading the mesquite wood chips into the hopper. “You look about as grim as a possum with an upset stomach.”
“Don’t ever use those lyrics in a song,” he tried to joke, but it was difficult to muster any humor when there was a hard ball in his stomach. “Tammy doesn’t want me to stay at the house,” he finally admitted.
His friend swore softly and kicked the smoker. Bullet and Banjo raced over as if they’d been summoned, and he gave them a rough rubdown before they tore off to join Clayton, with whom they’d been playing tug-and-pull with a giant frayed rope. John Parker had brought the dogs back with him earlier at Rye’s request, and the plan was for them to stay. In his down time, Rye had been working on obedience signals with them intently. It was like his friend was preparing his prized dogs to play their own part in protecting the house while he was on tour.
“Let me talk to her,” Rye said with a scowl.
“I’m not sure it will do any good. She’s got a bee in her bonnet about standing on her own two feet.”
“What the hell does she think we’ve been doing since she moved in last year? Smothering her?”
John Parker put his hand on his friend’s shoulder and looked him straight in the eye. “She told me a few weeks ago that she’s planning on renting a house for her and the kids as soon as her business can support it.”
He gave a growl. “Why in the world would she do that? Isn’t this house big enough? Don’t we—”