“I always take you seriously.”
She ruffles my hair. “My sweet, sweet daughter. You are, in a word, biased.”
“Am not,” I counter, ever the booster of her ego. As a child I hated hearing her cry over how someone treated her on set, or how men would leave her after she gave them everything they wanted.
With a nervous smile, she sets her glass down on the coffee table and takes a deep breath. “I have something that I want to talk to you about. Something that should have been discussed a long time ago.”
“I know about sex.”
“I should hope so.” She picks at the nonexistent lint on her silk skirt. “Since we’re on the subject, your father would like to meet you. In person.”
“Why?”
“Because I told him it was high time he claimed you. That it was shameful the way he’s neglected you over the years.”
“I’m a multimillionaire because of his version of child support.”
She waves a hand in the air, as if trying to erase my words. “Money is no replacement for a father figure.”
“He’s a father figure to his kids. Who cares about me?”
A guilty look covers her face, making her sharp cheekbones flush pink. “He actually did. I kept him away from you out of spite.”
I reel at her admission. My heart taps out a strange rhythm in my chest and the room seems to close in tight. The blood in my veins runs cold, then hot and back to cold again. “He wanted me all along?”
“I didn’t say that. He wanted you to know him. He didn’t want you to be his dirty little secret.”
“I’m no one’s dirty little secret,” I all but growl.
Except I am. I’m my own dirty secret. Married to a man who doesn’t even remember what we did.
“You are never my secret. I only gave you my middle name in order to protect your privacy. Yes, I made mistakes, but my only excuse was that I was barely seventeen when I had you. A child myself.”
“I know. I’m not mad at you, not really.” I fall against the sofa. “There was no one stopping him from seeing me, especially after you stopped letting me travel with you.”
“That was for your own good. People were starting to notice you and not in ways you would have been equipped to handle at thirteen.”
“You don’t have to defend yourself. I only missed you when you were gone. I didn’t resent you for it.”
She slouches into the sofa, something I’ve never witnessed before. Taylor Reynolds has perfect posture. “Maybe you should have. Then I wouldn’t have waited so long to let Tripp have contact with you—pending your approval, of course.”
“Does his wife know about me?”
My mom nods. “Their children do, too. One is older than you and the other two girls are younger than you.”
“I don’t know,” I say slowly. “This is…this day, this month has been too surreal for me.”
She gathers me in a hug. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”
“I got married.”
“Congratulations!” Her fingers start to play with my hair. “To the fireman or someone else?”
“Might as well have been someone else because Hayden doesn’t remember the ceremony or…afterward at all.”
“That rat bastard,” she swears. “You want me to have him taken care of?”
“No. We’re dating now.”
She kisses the top of my head. “That’s unexpected.”
“He was my first.”
“Love?”
“No…my first lover.”
“You always did say you wanted to wait until you got married.” I hear the smile in her voice.
“Goal accomplished. Yay me.”
“Obviously, the marriage didn’t take place in the States or it would be all over the news.”
I breathe in her familiar scent, taking the comfort she offers. “Tijuana.”
“How romantic. My very careful daughter had a very careless moment.”
Looking up at her, I don’t bother to hide my conflicting feelings. “I don’t like being careless.”
“Oh, Saylor.” She hugs me tight. “Remember when we used to go out on the boat, just you and me?”
“I remember.” I also remember that for the first two years of my life, I was Baby Girl Dean because she couldn’t decide on a name for me.
“At first you were very cautious, only standing up and walking around when the water was as smooth as glass. Then one day, you got your sea legs and I couldn’t stop you from jumping all over the place. You were my sailor and I was the captain.”
“I’m pretty certain I called you a pirate.”
She laughs. “The point is, you didn’t become Saylor Dean until you gave yourself a chance to get your sea legs. Love and relationships are just like that. They have to stand on their own before they’ll survive a rough ocean.”
“So you’re saying I should give Tripp a chance?”
“And this Hayden of yours, too.”
I sit back against the cushions again. “He did buy me a Star Wars–themed sunshield for my Jeep and learned how to do cassette tape art to impress me.”
“Sounds like a keeper.”
Hayden is such a keeper, but when the truth comes out about what we did and how I’ve kept it a secret, will he want to keep me?
“Tell Tripp he can call me to set up a time and date to meet.”
“Whatever you want.” Letting go of me, she gives Padme a little push before she stands. “I have to go now. Prime Minister Pierre Trembley awaits with his private jet. His wife has taken up with some hideous ogre of a man in Russia, so it’s up to me to lift his spirits.”
“I’m sure you’ll have him forgetting about everything but you in no time at all.”
My mom tilts her head to one side, studying me. “You truly love me, don’t you?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“I am not a role model for any girl.”
“Then it’s a good thing you were always my mother instead.”
She touches my cheek, grabs her suitcases, and sashays out of my apartment, leaving behind nothing but an empty wineglass and the scent of her perfume.
Chapter 11
Hayden
When I wake up, my entire bedroom is flooded with sunlight. I check my phone for the time and day. Shit, I slept the entire afternoon and night away.
Immediately, I text Saylor.
Me: Morning, sunshine. Just woke up.
To my surprise she responds within seconds.
Saylor: Good morning. Thank you for the sunshield. I love it.
I grin. Hopefully, my gift will soften her up toward me.
Me: You’re welcome. As soon as I saw it at the car wash, I knew it was meant for you.
Yeah, I’m laying it on thick, but I actually mean it and I think Saylor needs that kind of thing.
Saylor: Do you have more training to do?
Me: Nope. Headed out to the lake. Want to come with me?
Saylor: Yes.
My heart thumps hard against my chest. I get to see that sexy woman in a bikini, maybe even get to slather on some sunscreen and make some waves of our own.
Me: I’ll pick you and Padme up in thirty? Bring your swimsuit and whatever else you need. I’ll take care of the rest.
A cat would be okay on my boat. Pretty sure we could jerry-rig a life preserver or something for her.
Saylor: Regretfully, Padme must decline. She gets seasick.
Me: Tell her we’ll bring back something shiny.
Saylor: See you soon.
I jump out of bed, calling the marina so they can get my boat ready and loaded up with all that Saylor and I can possibly need, including food and drinks, as I make myself presentable.
With ten minutes to spare, I roll up in Saylor’s parking lot and park beside her red Jeep. I grin when I spy Han Solo and Rey in the windshield.
“You’re responsible for that?” Hunter asks when I get out. He’s in the middle of washing Evangeline’s car
while hard rock blares from her radio.
“I am.”
Hunter smiles. “Nice.”
“Hopefully, she’ll like today even better. Plan to focus on nothing but her.”
“You’re going all out for Saylor, huh?”
I shrug. “Doing my best.”
“Any particular reason why?” he asks and I start to get offended.
“Is there any particular reason you’d ask me that?”
Hunter squints up at the sun, then drops the sponge into the bucket. “Let’s just say I know more than the Average Joe on the street when it comes to people I regularly have contact with, and your sudden interest in her is questionable.”
“Sudden?” I take a step forward. “You want to talk to me about sudden. How long were you mooning over your girl before something finally happened?”
“That was different.”
“How so, because it was you?”
“I know my motives.”
“You think I’m just using her, don’t you?”
His jaw works. “Wouldn’t be the first time a politician’s kid acted that way.”
“The hell, man. We’ve been friends for how long now? I’ve never used a woman for any kind of political gain. You’re a fucking cop. My dad’s constituents love cops. Shouldn’t I have paraded you around at one of the hundreds of fundraisers I was forced to attend in the past two years, if I was so fucking bent on moving up the Walker career ladder?”
The tension thickens, then dissipates.
“Shit. Yeah, I know your dad.” He exhales. “People like Saylor put my protective instincts on overdrive…not like Eva, though, that’s different. Saylor’s alone, truly alone in this world. You get me?”
“I get you, but next time verbalize that first instead of making me seem like Stalker Stanley or Pete the Perv.”
“Will do.” He pounds on my back, his version of a guy hug, and we’re good again. His face suddenly lights up. “There’s my girl.”
Saylor and Evangeline walk toward us from the other side of the parking lot as they chat. They seem to be in deep conversation. Suddenly, Saylor giggles and her best friend joins her. My gut clenches at the sight and sound of her happiness.
That’s my girl.
Not your girl.
She could be.
Maybe I shouldn’t be so selfish to keep her all to myself today, even if I still want to throat punch and body slam Hunter for being such an asshole. A concerned asshole, yes, but an asshole just the same.
“Saylor and I are headed to the lake. Y’all got plans?” I ask him.
His gaze widens with surprise. “We—” I don’t miss the slight but emphatic nod Evangeline gives Hunter. “Yeah, sorry, dude. I promised Jake that we’d take him to see his honey at the dog park.”
“Plus, I need my taco fix,” Evangeline adds.
Saylor’s gaze bounces between them before her pretty eyes settle on me. “It’s important for Jake to maintain his relationship with other dogs.”
“It’s just as important for his humans to maintain their relationship as well.” I don’t say this to argue with her.
“Human relationships are very, very important.” She grips the medium-size bag in her hands tight. “You two have fun. We probably need to go before it gets too crowded.”
“Where we’re going, there are no crowds.”
Evangeline gives Saylor a quick hug, fussing over her like a mother hen. “Did you pack sunscreen?”
“Yes.”
“And all the other things I laid out for you?” Eva’s brows rise slightly.
Saylor’s cheeks pinken. “Yes. May I go now?”
Hunter stalks over to me, holding the water hose rather menacingly. “You have our girl home at a decent hour, Walker.”
“I’ll have her back before the nightingale sings.”
Saylor frowns. “But that’s—”
I grab her arm, steering her to the passenger side of the Escalade. “I think we need to leave before Hunter threatens to do to me whatever I do to you.”
“What if I’m the one doing all the…doing?” she asks, a slightly flirtatious tone to her voice.
“You have my permission to do all the doing.” I shut the door and walk to the other side, listening to Hunter as he threatens to beat my ass if I do anything stupid.
“Stop being so jealous that he asked Saylor instead of you,” Evangeline says, making her husband scowl.
“Wasn’t jealous. Just looking out for Saylor, is all. She’s like a sister to me.”
“Uh-huh.” Evangeline winks at me, then turns her attention back to Hunter. “I’ll make sure you don’t miss Hayden’s silly boat.” Rising up on her toes, she whispers in his ear and he grunts.
“Promise?” he asks.
“Promise.”
I make my escape while Hunter’s distracted.
“Hunter didn’t mean any of it,” Saylor says as I back my SUV out of the parking spot and head out of town.
“I think he considers you his sister.”
“But that’s it, you know that, right? He and Evangeline are made for each other. Their love puzzle is supernaturally superglued together until the end of time,” she says firmly.
“Saylor, you’re not the kind of person to go after another woman’s man.”
“I know I’m not, but you might not know that.”
“Trust me when I say, I’ve met my fair share of wom—people who are exactly like that.”
“Me, too,” she says softly. “My mom came to visit me yesterday.”
“Is she still here?”
She shakes her head. “She had a date with a prime minister to help him get over his wife.”
“He’s a widower?”
“He’s a cheater.” She falls silent for a moment. “I shouldn’t have told you that.”
“I promise that it stays between us.”
“Can it stay two miles back and never be spoken of again…unless I bring it up?” she asks.
“Yeah.” This isn’t what I envisioned our conversation to be while we cruised Brown Mill Road. At least the traffic’s light. Normally, it’s killer on Saturdays.
“We’re not going to Lake Wylie?”
“I don’t keep my boat there.”
“You have a boat?”
At my nod, she actually smiles. “I love boats. When I was little, my mom and I would go sailing. That’s where she got my name.”
“Mine is a family name. It’s not as exciting as yours.”
“Boring can be nice.”
I laugh so hard that my abs start to ache.
“What’s so funny?”
At the next exit, I have to stop at a light, which gives me the opportunity to really look at her. “No one has ever described me as boring.”
“What about nice?”
“Little kids tell me that a lot….Well, when I let them turn on the lights in our biggest engine.”
“Who wouldn’t think you were the nicest guy ever,” she declares earnestly. “I would tell you how nice you were if you’d let me play with your engine.”
Oh, baby, I so want you to play with my engine. My drive shaft needs special attention. “If you’re good, then I’ll consider it.”
A horn honks behind us, and as I glance in the rearview mirror, the driver flips me off.
“Serves you right.” She laughs.
“For telling you to be good?”
“Nope,” she begins with a cheeky grin. “For assuming I’m not.”
The remaining portion of our trip flies and by the time we’re stepping onto the private pier where my boat is docked, Saylor’s eyes are alive with humor. She can’t stop laughing as I share story after story about the trouble my brothers and I would get into when we were younger.
An ego boost to be sure.
Her laughter dies down as she surveys my boat.
“What’s wrong?”
“You said we’re going on a boat.”
“This is a boat.” It floats and
has an engine. Pretty sure that qualifies.
“It has two floors and sliding glass doors. And a staircase. There’s a covered porch on the back.” She shakes her head. “This is a freaking ship.”
“It’s not that…” I let my words trail away. No way in hell am I going to finish with the phrase it’s not that big. “One, it’s not classified as a ship, more like a pocket yacht. Two, the staircase leads to the wheelhouse so I can see to navigate. Three, you’ll love it once we’re out in the lake under that covered porch, sipping something good.”
Is she going to back out on our date? Is this too much for her? Suddenly, it hits me. She thinks I live on a blue-collar salary and this doesn’t jibe with that. Most firemen, fire captain or not, don’t have boats shipped inland from the coast so they can still experience the water.
“Saylor, if this makes you uncomfortable, we can go to Lake Wylie instead.”
“I’m not uncomfortable. I’m in shock,” she says.
“Everything you requested is in the galley, Mr. Walker,” an attendant wearing a blue polo shirt and white shorts says. “If any further assistance is needed, please text us.” She hands over a map of the lake. It’s marked with a small circle. “Honeysuckle Cove has been reserved for you.”
“Thanks.” I tip the attendant before turning my attention back to Saylor, who’s eyeing me rather warily. “Permission to board my vessel, sailor.”
If I can get her on, then we can talk and I can fix whatever the problem is. I know I can, and not just because I’m a Walker.
“Aye, aye, Captain,” she says faintly, her gaze directed off in the distance.
I look behind me but see nothing out of the ordinary. Only couples, families, women strutting around in skimpy bathing suits while guys troll for more than just bait. The marina itself has a small upscale restaurant on the top floor. The views are amazing, especially at sunset.
However, it doesn’t open to diners until five p.m., but lucky for us, the reason behind it is because they cater to people like me who order up picnic lunches to take out on the lake.
Taking her hand, I make sure she minds the small gap between the boat and the pier. “Will you need help with your vest?” I ask as we climb the stairs. “You only have to wear one while we’re traveling. Once we drop anchor, you can walk about freely.”
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