Dating a Single Dad

by Kris Fletcher - Comeback Cove 01 - Dating a Single Dad

  “Bossy bitch, isn’t she?” Carter said from his oh-so-dignified perch on the floor.

  “Carter North!” Ma tried to get in close, probably to dispense a whap across Carter’s thick skull, but Hank leaned in to play barrier.

  “Let’s go, Carter.”

  “Why? Just because she said so?” Carter leered up at Hank. “Do you let her boss you around like that when you’re—”

  Hank didn’t pause. Didn’t think. Just grabbed his stupid brother by his crisp white shirt and hauled him upright.

  “We’re leaving because you’re a dumb-ass, Car. Now move it.”

  He gave Carter a none-too-gentle shove toward the door. Carter took a couple of slow steps before stopping and turning back to the family clustered together.

  “Sorry, folks.” Some of his bravado slipped away. “Seems I made a royal mess of things again.”

  Again?

  Hank glanced at Brynn. While everyone else seemed puzzled or surprised—or, in Moxie’s case, slightly sad—Brynn looked mostly resigned. Like she’d been expecting something along these lines.

  She met his gaze, shook her head the tiniest bit and put her hand on Millie’s head. Home, she mouthed. He got the message.

  He followed Carter out the door and headed for the parking lot, curious, worried and hoping against hope that Carter’s next royal mess wouldn’t land all over the front seat of the truck.

  * * *

  BEING BACK IN Hank’s home hurt.

  Brynn had known it would be awkward to step back into the house where she and Hank and Millie had spent so much time laughing and learning about each other. She had expected the wave of sadness that hit her the minute she walked into the kitchen and saw Hank’s plaid jacket hanging from the hook by the door.

  But she hadn’t realized how much it would hurt. How each step through the familiar rooms and the sight of Millie’s Angry Birds drawing on the refrigerator, and the lingering scent of Hank’s beloved dark roast coffee, would drive home the message of loss.

  Standing in his living room, holding a picture of him and Millie from last Halloween—Millie in a SpongeBob costume, Hank wearing a goofy smile and a Han Solo vest and blaster—the ache gripped her throat.

  Dear God, but she missed him.

  It made no sense. She’d known him barely three months. How could he have become such a part of her in such a short amount of time?

  But running her finger over his long frame in the picture, remembering moments when she had held him close, she knew.

  This was why Taylor had wanted to be near Carter, even when she couldn’t be with him. This was why her mother had said she didn’t know if she could send her father away again, even after he made a mockery of their marriage.

  But it was more. It was why Sam and Libby smiled each time the other walked into the room. Why Hank’s parents looked first to each other during meetings. Why, even though it had made no sense at all for her to ask Hank to take care of Carter tonight, he had been the first one she turned to.

  Because he was part of her. Knit into her by love.

  And she had the horrible feeling that he might have been right about the real reason she had urged Taylor to end things when she did.

  * * *

  IT WAS JUST a minute or two after she kissed Millie good-night that the door opened. She risked a peek from her spot at the kitchen table. He seemed tired and worried and frustrated, his hair was a picture in wildness, and the moment he spotted her she could see his emotional shields snap into place—yet she had to force herself to stay seated instead of sliding her arms around his waist and resting her cheek against his shoulder the way she longed to do.

  “Millie asleep?”

  “Probably not. The lights went off just a couple of minutes ago.”

  He nodded and peeled off his sweatshirt, giving her a moment to drink in the sight of his chest, the strip of skin where his T-shirt rode up. It would be warm, she knew. And she was so very cold...

  “How’s Carter?”

  “You tell me.”

  “Sorry?”

  His shrug was far too casual. “Come on, Brynn. You’re the one who knows all my family secrets, and you sure as hell didn’t look surprised when he showed up plastered. Seems to me you probably have a better idea than I do.”

  How was she supposed to fake it through this one? She couldn’t think of anything to say other than the truth—the one thing that would do more damage than good.

  She chose to go with a much older fact.

  “My father used to come home drunk sometimes. I got good at spotting the signs very fast.”

  He studied her for a second before nodding. “I’ll give you that one. ’Course, that doesn’t explain why my tight-assed brother decided to hide out in his office after work and get shit-faced.”

  “He didn’t say anything on the way home?”

  Hank snorted and shoved his hands in his pockets. “The only thing he said was, ‘Pull over, now.’ Not much of a conversation.”

  Thank God.

  “Will he be okay alone?”

  Hank stared at her, his face unreadable. He probably thought she didn’t really care, that she was simply trying to deflect the conversation. Could she blame him?

  “Cash was on his way over,” he said at last. “He said he could babysit.”

  “Good.” She didn’t want Carter to be alone. She had called him once after Taylor left, but he had made it clear that she was more of an unwanted reminder than a help. All her calls and texts since then had gone unanswered. She had planned to follow him home after tonight’s rehearsal, just to be sure he really was okay—Taylor kept asking—but that plan had blown up in her face, too.

  It was all slipping through her fingers. No matter what she did, she was only making things worse. Twisting knives. Breaking more hearts.

  “I should leave,” she said, but Hank’s hand shot out and gripped her arm.

  “The hell, Brynn? Is that your answer to everything?”

  No. She wanted to say it, but she couldn’t because she wasn’t sure. Not anymore.

  “Maybe I was too blown away to let that happen after Ian and Taylor, but not again. Something is wrong with my brother and you know what it is, and even though walking away is the only thing you know how to do I’ll be damned if I let you—”

  She saw the moment he put it together. It was all there in his face, so heartbreakingly easy to read. The sudden halt as he made the connection between what she had said after Taylor’s departure and Carter’s actions tonight. The moment of wide-eyed disbelief. His small, instinctive step back, as if he were trying to distance himself from the truth. And then...oh, then, the hopelessness in his eyes as he shook his head and looked at her, begging her to tell him he was wrong without saying a word.

  Brynn’s last, slender hope snapped.

  “No.” His voice was rough, hoarse, as if he’d dragged the words free. “That can’t be.”

  She closed her eyes, hoping he wouldn’t read the answer she knew he didn’t want to admit.

  His hand tightened on her arm. “Tell me, Brynn. Tell me I’m wrong, that Carter... That Taylor...”

  Her eyes were still closed. It didn’t matter. She knew his face too well. The image was raw and clear in her mind, magnified by his fingers tightening on her arm.

  He knew. He knew, and now the one hope that had given Taylor some measure of comfort—that the family would be fine—had been shredded. As long as it had been simply Carter’s secret there had been hope, but Hank—Hank wouldn’t be able to keep this to himself. He would try but it would leak out, maybe not in his words but perhaps in his actions. His mother would pick up on it. Or Moxie, who already suspected, she was sure of it. They were all going to find out. They would all know.

  “Brynn, for th
e love of God...”

  There was nothing she could do now—for Taylor, for Carter, for Ian, for any of them.

  Except—

  She could tell Hank everything. All of it. There was no point in pretending anymore. She could tell him, and maybe make him see that even though she had stayed silent it was for good reasons. Make him see that she had truly been trying to help. Then maybe, just maybe, he could understand why she did it. Maybe, someday, he could forgive her. Maybe they could find a way past this, could get back to that point when he held her in this very room and said that if she were staying, he would want to keep—

  No.

  She had failed Taylor in every way possible. She would not—could not—fail her now. Even though it wouldn’t make a difference. Even though it wouldn’t change anything.

  Even though it would cost her that last fragile possibility with Hank.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  This time, when she tried to pull her arm free and run away, he made no move to stop her.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  HANK FELT LIKE the walking dead when he pulled into the Northstar parking lot the next morning. He hoped his head would be clearer after he did what he’d come to do, but given the way things had been spinning lately, he didn’t hold out much hope.

  He double-timed it toward the building, not even faltering when he passed Brynn’s car. He’d seen it at the cabins a dozen times the past few days while she supervised the setup for the festival. He was immune.

  At least that was what he told himself.

  Moxie’s door was open, as usual, so Hank sailed past her assistant with the bare minimum greeting required by politeness. There were times when being family came in damned handy.

  Moxie raised a hand as he approached, her gaze never leaving the computer screen. She pulled headphones from her ears. “Hold on. I’m almost done.”

  “But—”

  “Henry. Patience. I need two more minutes.”

  It was so much like the way she used to talk to him when he was a kid that he couldn’t protest. Instead, he sent a pleading glance at the portrait of Grandpa Gordon hanging behind the desk and closed the door. He edged behind Moxie’s chair in the hope of seeing what was so vital, fully expecting her to give him hell for spying on a top secret document. Instead, he saw that she was watching an episode of The Big Bang Theory.

  “Seriously?” he asked once the final credits appeared and she pulled off the headphones. “You made me wait for the ‘Soft Kitty’ guy?”

  Moxie, of course, was totally unmoved. “When you’re my age, you know that things can change in the snap of a finger. I like that show. If I died without knowing how that episode ended, I’d have to haunt you for all eternity.”

  Not that he believed in ghosts, but the thought of having Moxie hang around him for the rest of his life was enough to make him think that maybe she had been doing him a favor.

  “Listen.” He grabbed a chair, flipped it around and straddled it, his arms resting on the top of the backrest. “I found out something last night, and I don’t know what to do with it.”

  “This have anything to do with Carter’s bonehead move?”

  “Yeah. I think—”

  “Did he say anything to you when you took him home?”

  “No. But I—”

  “Dammit to hell, I thought he might finally—”

  “Moxie, would you let me finish?”

  She gave him an evil eye that quickly morphed into something a whole lot warmer.

  “Well, well, well,” she said with far too much satisfaction.

  “Look.” He gripped the rail of the chair. “If you want to play Zen master, you go ahead, but I have a to-do list twelve pages long. So maybe you could save the questions for a minute.”

  She waved her hand in a spot-on imitation of the queen. “Continue.”

  “Brynn said something last night.” He frowned as he replayed the conversation for about the five millionth time. “Well, actually, she didn’t. But I said something, and remembered something else she said, and I think...” He took a deep breath, checked to make sure the door was still closed. “I think the reason Taylor broke up with Ian is because—”

  “Because of Carter.”

  Thank God—she hadn’t phrased it as a question. It meant he wasn’t the only one who had put things together in this seriously twisted way.

  On the other hand...

  On the other hand, if Moxie thought it was true, then dammit to hell, it probably was. And God, but he had hoped he was wrong.

  Didn’t it figure—the first time in his life he was the one who had the inside scoop, and he would give anything to not know it.

  Moxie let out a long sigh and swiveled to stare at the photo of her and Gramps that sat at the corner of her desk. “Well, one good thing. You coming in here today saves me from going down the hall to choke the truth out of Brynn.”

  “You wouldn’t have got very far.”

  “Oh?” Moxie could say more with one word and a quirked eyebrow than most people could with a novel.

  “Last night, even after I put it together, she still wouldn’t admit it.”

  “’Course not. She likely promised Taylor she wouldn’t breathe a word.”

  “But I already knew.”

  “You already suspected.” Moxie pointed at him. “Big difference. And your Brynn might be a lot of things, but she’s not one to let down her family.”

  “She’s not my—”

  He stopped, sidetracked by Moxie’s words. Family. That word kept whispering in the back of his brain whenever he thought about her. If he could only think about that for a moment...

  But there was no time because Moxie was off and running.

  “No, siree. If she said she wouldn’t tell anyone, then that’s the way it’s going to be. The only way to get the truth out of her is to make her see that it’s for the better.”

  “How could anything be better about this?”

  “You leave that to me.” She turned in her chair once more. “I have to say, of all the things I thought might be coming down the pike, this wasn’t one of them.”

  “Seriously, Moxie? I know you think you’re the great and powerful Oz, but you can’t convince me that you saw this coming.”

  “What, Carter and Taylor? Of course I did. Why do you think I sent him to the conference?”

  Thank God he was already sitting. “You’re kidding. You knew about this and you sent him anyway?”

  “I didn’t know. I suspected, same as you. And yes siree bob, that was exactly why I sent him. Anyone with eyes and seventy-odd years of experience could tell that something was fishy with those two. They just needed the chance to admit it.”

  “Forget the dairy, Moxie. You should be working with the Mounties.”

  She shrugged. “I never looked good in red. Now, leave Carter and Taylor to me. It’s time to talk about you.”

  Brynn. “Remember that to-do list I mentioned? I think it’s time I got back to it.”

  “No,” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “I can’t say I’m surprised that you figured out what was up with those two. What really threw me for a curve was you walking in here all worried.”

  Well, that was unexpected. “You think I wouldn’t worry about my own family?”

  “It wasn’t the worry that took me by surprise. It was the walk.” She pushed up from her chair and leaned across the desk, giving him the stare that had launched a thousand nightmares. “It wasn’t that long ago, Henry William North, that you were so hell-bent on doing things yourself that it was like you’d built a wall between you and the rest of the family. One with lots of windows, mind you, but a wall all the same. Yet today you waltzed in here because you knew something was wrong. Three, four months ago
, you would have sat back and waited to see how it played out. Today, you’re trying to make it better.”

  He wanted to say she was wrong but given her track record, he figured he should save his breath.

  “I guess, now that Millie and I are in the cabins, maybe it’s easier—”

  He was interrupted by a very loud, very rude snort.

  “You’re not stupid, Hank. Don’t try to fake it now.”

  * * *

  BRYNN ENDED HER CALL with the electrician, rubbed her forehead—wiring would be the death of her yet—grabbed her bottle of water from the desk and almost choked when she tipped her head back to take a drink and spotted Moxie lounging in the doorway.

  “You know,” she wheezed as soon as she caught her breath, “the stealth ninja thing is really getting old.”

  “Not as old as I am, kid.”

  “Yet you move faster and more silently than my mother’s cat.”

  “Is that so?” Moxie’s smile was decidedly unsettling. “In that case, Brynn, I’m giving you fair warning. You just turned into a mouse.”

  “What do you—”

  Moxie stepped into the room, pulled the door closed. “No more secrets, girl. Tell me the real reason Taylor left.”

  Oh, shit. This wasn’t going to be pretty.

  “Don’t bother acting like you don’t know what I’m talking about.” Moxie dropped into Taylor’s chair with a groan. “Something’s wrong, and it’s time to deal with it once and for all.”

  “Why do you—” Brynn began, but Moxie leaned forward and pointed her finger.

  “Listen to me, girlie. There’s two things on the line here—my company and my family. I can and will get the dairy through this. People leave all the time. But my family is a different story altogether. I can’t make this work unless I know what I’m dealing with, and as far as I can tell, you’re the only one who can help.”

  Brynn shook her head. “It will only make things worse.”