Tempting Tanya (NSFW Book 3)

by C. C. Wood

  “Hey, Daddy,” I replied.

  The sheer will I’d been using to hold myself together dissolved and I began to sob.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  My father pulled me into the house and back toward his living room. After he led me to the couch, he turned off the television and moved toward the liquor cabinet, pouring whiskey in a glass.

  I dropped down on the sofa and took the glass when he offered it to me, draining it in one gulp. I gasped for air as the liquid burned going down my throat, settling like a fire in the pit of my stomach.

  “What happened, Tanya?” he asked.

  I looked up at him and any explanation I might have had died on my tongue. Finally, I stated, “I can’t talk about it now, Dad. Can I stay here tonight?”

  He watched me for a moment, his eyes studying my face with concern. Then he leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “Of course, sweetheart. Anything you need.”

  I sniffed, the tears still trickling from my eyes, and held up the glass. “Can I have a double this time?”

  Without another word, Dad took the glass and poured me another drink. When he returned to the couch, he brought the bottle with him.

  A couple of hours later, he helped me up to my childhood room and into bed.

  “I’m so sorry, Dad,” I whispered as he wrestled my shoes off. The room seemed to spin with each tug.

  “For what, sweetheart?” he asked, dropping my shoes on the floor next to the bed and pulling the covers up over me.

  “Everything.”

  My last conscious thought was that it felt nice to have him stroking my hair just like he used to when I was little. It felt like home.

  The next morning I woke up with a light head and a heavy heart. The magnitude of what I’d done crashed over me as soon as my eyes opened. I couldn’t believe I’d said the things I had or left Jordan like that.

  It was as if an alien had taken over my body.

  Unfortunately, my life wasn’t a sci-fi flick.

  I turned my head to glance at the clock on my nightstand and saw a glass of water and a little dish that contained two ibuprofen tablets. Though I wouldn’t have believed it a moment before, I smiled.

  Clearly, Jordan had more in common with my father than I realized.

  Though I wasn’t hungover, my head felt heavy from all the tears I’d shed the night before. I popped the pills into my mouth and washed them down with the water.

  I climbed out of bed and went into the attached bath. I winced when I saw my face. I hadn’t washed off my make-up the night before and the results weren’t pretty.

  Taking my time, I washed my face with cool water and found myself smiling again when I saw the brand new toothbrush and travel tube of toothpaste my father must have set out for me. Then, I combed my fingers through my hair, pulling the messy strands up into a loose ponytail.

  I headed downstairs and found my father sitting at the kitchen counter, drinking a cup of coffee. Another cup sat in front of him, steaming hot, so I knew he must have heard me moving around and poured it for me.

  “Morning, Dad,” I greeted him, surprised at the rusty sound of my voice.

  “Good morning, sweetheart.” His eyes were concerned as he studied me. “Are you feeling better today?”

  “Yes, I’m better.” I took a sip of my coffee, letting the warmth soothe my throat.

  “Are you ready to talk about it yet?” he asked.

  I sat on the stool next to my dad’s, wrapping my hands around my cup. “It was seeing Lucille at the funeral.” I paused because I wasn’t sure how to explain what happened to me last night.

  “What was?”

  I studied him, noting that he looked younger and more vibrant than his years. He’d only been forty when my mother passed away. “Why didn’t you get married again after Mom died?” I asked.

  He frowned at my random question. “I never found the right woman,” he replied.

  “But did you even look?” In all the years he’d been widowed, my father never mentioned another woman or talked about his love life.

  My father fidgeted on the stool. “Well, it took a while before I was ready, but I started dating again about three years after your mom died.”

  “You did?” I asked incredulously. “How come Tessa and I never met any of them?” A dull flush worked its way across my father’s cheeks and I realized I didn’t want to know why. “Don’t answer that.”

  Dad sighed and put his coffee mug aside. “Tanya, you have to understand. Your mom was one in a million. There was no replacing her, which I wouldn’t have done even if I could but she was a hard act to follow. Then I had you girls to consider. Most women don’t like the idea that they aren’t the most important person in a man’s life, and I made it very clear to the women I dated over the years that you and your sister were my first priority.”

  My eyes blurred with tears. “I’m sorry, Dad,” I apologized.

  He patted my knee gently. “Don’t be sorry, baby. I wouldn’t have it any other way. You and Tessa are the best things that ever happened to me, aside from meeting your mother. My life would have been poorer if I hadn’t had the three of you in it.”

  We sat in silence for a little while, each of us drinking our coffee and thinking our own thoughts.

  “If you had met the right woman, do you think you would have remarried?” I asked. Though I wasn’t crazy about the idea of having a stepmother, I didn’t want my dad to be lonely or unhappy for the rest of his life.

  “Probably.”

  I glanced at him in surprise. “Really?”

  “When we drafted our wills, your mother and I had a conversation about what we would do if one of us passed. I teased her that I never wanted her to remarry, that I was the love of her life and she should pine for me until the end of her days.”

  I grinned at his words. That sounded exactly like something my father would say, half joking and half serious.

  “Do you know what she said to me? She said that she wanted me to be happy and for our girls to be happy. She hated the idea of me being alone for the rest of my life because she worried about me. All she asked was that I not marry anyone who couldn’t love her babies as though they were their own.” Dad chuckled. “I think she realized how long it would take me to do that and said it on purpose.”

  I laughed, tracing my finger over the granite countertop. That also sounded like Mom. She gave as good as she got and rarely cut Dad any slack. I think that was why he loved her so much, because her personality was just as strong as his.

  “Sweetheart, what does all of this have to do with last night?” Dad asked.

  I lifted my eyes to him. “It scared me, watching Lucille at the funeral. I’ve always avoided serious relationships because I see what people are capable of doing to each other when their love dies. I was ready to take a chance with Jordan until I saw Lucille Buck’s face at the funeral last week. I realized that even if Jordan didn’t want to leave me, he might anyway. Then I realized that he could be like you, left behind with children.” I shook my head, blinking back the tears that wanted to fill my eyes. “It terrifies me, Dad. I don’t know why but it does. I freaked out last night and I said so many things to Jordan that I can’t take back.”

  My dad pulled me into a hug. “Oh, honey. It sounds to me like you had a good old-fashioned freak out.”

  I rested my cheek on his shoulder and let the comfort of his arms around me sink in. “I think I really messed things up with him.”

  Releasing me, Dad sat back so I could see his face. “I was waiting until you told me what happened, but Jordan came by last night after you went to bed. He was a wreck, sweetheart. You’ll need to tell him what’s going on in your head, but the man I saw last night will forgive you for almost anything. He didn’t want to leave, but I told him that it would be for the best, just for the night.”

  I took a deep breath and wiped away a stray tear. “He was a wreck?” I asked.

  “He was, honey.” Dad shifted on the st
ool. “There’s something else I want to tell you and I want you to listen to me. Really listen to me, okay?”

  I nodded.

  “Even if I had known what would happen to your mother, that I would lose her when I did, I still would have made the choice to marry her and have you and your sister. Every moment I had with her was worth it. She was worth the risk.” He took my hand. “And, baby, I think that if you give Jordan a chance you’ll find that you won’t regret it, even if things don’t work out like you plan.”

  Once again, my eyes filled with tears and I groaned. “Stop making me cry,” I complained, swiping them away.

  “Here’s what we’re going to do,” he stated. “I’m going to make you breakfast while you get yourself together, then you’re going to go home, clean up, and then go talk to Jordan. Tell him everything you just told me and I’m confident that everything will work out fine.”

  “Okay,” I sighed, nodding. I had to change the subject or I wouldn’t be able to stop crying. “I want my eggs over medium. None of that over easy stuff. It looks too slimy.”

  “Where did I go wrong with you?” my father asked, shaking his head. “Over easy eggs are the way to go.”

  “Shut up and cook me some breakfast,” I commanded. “I’m going to go wash my face again.”

  After I ate breakfast, Dad walked me to the door. “Now, when you talk to Jordan, don’t be afraid to tell him everything, okay? I think he’ll surprise you.”

  “He usually does,” I replied.

  Dad gave me a kiss on the cheek. “Before you go, I should tell you that I’ve been seeing Joyce a lot lately.”

  I blinked up at him. “You’re seeing Joyce? As in Jordan’s aunt? As in DATING?” I knew my mouth was hanging open.

  He grinned down at me, looking handsome and nearly twenty years younger. “She’s one hell of a woman. I feel thirty years younger when I spend time with her.”

  “When did this start?”

  “I called her after the brunch we all had together and asked her to dinner.”

  At the expression on his face, I lifted a hand. “I don’t think I can handle hearing more right now.”

  He grinned at me. I hadn’t seen him smile like that in a very long time. Maybe since before my mother died.

  “One in a million, huh?” I asked.

  “One in a million.”

  “God, this is going to get so weird,” I muttered.

  Dad chuckled. “It’ll be fine. I thought you said stepbrothers was a big thing in romance novels right now anyway.”

  “Oh, Jesus, Dad, you can’t say things like that to me!”

  He laughed and I found myself smiling despite the anxiety I felt about facing Jordan again.

  “Love you, Dad,” I said, hugging him tightly. “Thanks for taking care of me and telling me what I needed to hear.”

  “Anytime, sweetheart. Now, go talk to Jordan and put the poor man out of his misery.”

  I waved to him as I pulled out of the driveway and headed home, my nerves jangling. I hoped Dad was right when he said that Jordan would forgive me. He didn’t deserve everything I said last night.

  I also hoped he understood when I tried to explain it, because God knew I didn’t.

  As I pulled into my driveway, my anxiety level spiked when I saw his car sitting in my driveway. I was relieved that he was there, but it also meant I didn’t have time to collect myself and prepare for the conversation.

  I parked and climbed out of my car, walking slowly toward the front door. Before I unlocked it, I took a deep breath and rolled my shoulders, hoping to relax the tightness in my muscles.

  Then I opened the door and stepped inside, ready to face the music.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Jordan lay sprawled on my couch, one hand thrown above his head and the other resting on his stomach. He slept so soundly he didn’t even move when I shut the door and locked it behind me.

  Though I was tempted to let him sleep and go take a shower, I didn’t want him to wake up and think I was avoiding him. I was also concerned my courage would desert me if I put off the conversation.

  I dropped my keys in the dish on the table beside the front door and walked over to the couch. As soon as I sat down beside his hip, his eyes cracked open.

  “Tanya?” he asked, blinking several times until he focused on my face. “You’re back.”

  The shield that slammed down between us last night was completely gone as he stared up at me, relief stark in his face.

  Hesitantly, I placed my hand on his chest. He covered my fingers with his immediately, pressing my palm closer to his heart. I closed my eyes and let my head drop forward.

  “I’m so sorry, Jordan,” I apologized. “What happened last night…it had to do with me and how messed up my head is. You don’t deserve to be treated like that.”

  He pushed himself up into a sitting position. “Are you ready to tell me what happened?” he asked. His voice was rough from sleep and I loved the sound of it.

  “Yes, I’m ready to talk about it,” I said. “Do you want me to make you a cup of coffee first?”

  Jordan shook his head and took my hand. “No, I want you to tell me what upset you so badly.”

  He didn’t seem angry or even frustrated. He looked concerned.

  “I don’t think I could survive it if you left me,” I admitted. “I’m almost certain it would kill me.”

  “Then it’s a good thing I don’t plan to leave you,” he replied.

  I swallowed hard. “You may not plan it and I may not plan it, but it can happen anyway,” I pointed out. “You could die in a car wreck, a plane crash, or a freak accident where a piano falls on your head. It may not be your choice.”

  “You’ve been stewing on this since Milton’s funeral, haven’t you?” he asked.

  “Yes. I have no idea why I lost it like I did last night,” I confessed. “I felt like it was all too much and I couldn’t face it anymore. I just couldn’t get the image of Lucille’s face at the funeral out of my head. Then I kept remembering my father and how he walked around our house like a zombie for months after my mother died. He would get up and go to work. He functioned on the most basic level, but everything that made him who he was seemed to be gone. He was like the walking dead. His body moved and he spoke, but his mind wasn’t engaged.” I shrugged. “Then I kept having those dreams, only it wasn’t Lucille standing over the open grave, watching the casket descend, it was me. Even knowing it was a dream, it hurt so badly when I woke up that I just wanted it to stop.”

  “You’re not the only one with those types of fears, Tanya,” Jordan stated. “I lost both of my parents at the same time and my entire life was turned upside down.”

  In that moment, I realized that I’d been too locked up in my own worries to even consider for a moment that Jordan could be as afraid as I was. And I was ashamed. “Oh God, Jordan. I’m sorry. I can’t believe I was so self-centered.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up too much. It took me two years to deal with my issues. You realized you made a mistake within twenty-four hours and you came back to me.”

  “That’s why you left the first time?” I asked. “Because you were afraid?”

  “I realized you were going to break my heart, Tanya, and I cut my losses before we got to that point.”

  “So you’re saying that we’re both a mess?” I asked.

  “Basically,” he replied. “But whatever happens, I think we can figure it out if we talk about it. How many divorces do we deal with where the couple could have worked it out if they just talked to each other?”

  “A lot,” I answered.

  “You and I have had the chance to see why so many marriages fail and the mistakes that people make. I would hope that we wouldn’t go down the same path.”

  “Are you telling me that I made a rookie mistake?” I asked.

  “I wouldn’t have put it that way, but it’s fitting.”

  I closed my eyes and laughed under my breath. “Well,
this is the first time I’ve ever truly been in love, so do you think you could cut me some slack for now?”

  He tugged on my hand. “I can. But only if you promise not to leave me like that again. Whatever is going on in your head, whether it seems trivial or overwhelming, you can tell me. The only way we can work it out is if we share it.”

  “You realize that you’re almost too perfect, right?” I asked. “I’m beginning to wonder if you’re a pod person or an android.”

  “I thought I would wait until we’re married before I reveal all my bad habits.”

  “That doesn’t sound like an incentive for me to marry you,” I responded.

  Jordan grinned. “Should I convince you?”

  “I’m not feeling very amenable at the moment,” I teased. “Maybe after a nap.” I paused, my eyes moving over his face. “Am I forgiven, Jordan?”

  His hands cupped my face and he leaned forward to kiss me. “Of course you are.”

  I rested my forehead against his and gripped his wrists with my hands. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  “I promise I will never leave you like that again,” I muttered.

  “Good. Now, you mentioned a nap and I have to admit I’m exhausted. Want to join me?”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  For the first time since Milton’s funeral, I didn’t have a nightmare.

  After our nap, I made omelets and coffee at two in the afternoon. We lounged on the couch as we ate, sitting in companionable silence.

  When we were done, I looked at Jordan and remembered what my father told me that morning.

  “My dad is dating your aunt.”

  “That’s nice,” Jordan replied absently. Then he straightened and turned toward me. “Wait, what did you say?”

  “My father is dating your aunt. I think he likes her a lot. At least that’s how it seemed to me this morning when he and I talked about it.”

  “How long has that been going on?” he asked, a frown tugging at his features.

  I shrugged. “I’m not sure. Probably not long.” I studied his disgruntled expression. “Does it upset you? It’s not like they’re children and you didn’t seem to mind when we talked about it before.”