by Nina Croft
He turned away then. Because it hurt too much. This was where she belonged. He would never be good enough for her.
He was no good for anyone.
Wasn’t it about time he accepted that and let her move on with her life and find the happiness she deserved?
He’d write to her, tell her he was backing out of their agreement. Something cracked inside him at the thought. This was it. She’d been his one chance of doing something good, something worthwhile with his life, and he’d fucked it up.
Tomorrow, he’d talk to Reese about making a permanent move to Richmond. Maybe it was time to leave Saddler Cove behind him. Let his kid grow up without the stigma of a fuck-up for a father.
For the first time, he admitted to himself why he’d really come back. It had been for Emily. For a dream.
Time to wake up and smell the fucking roses.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“You’re a goddamn miserable bastard,” Aiden said. “You know that, right?”
Tanner didn’t even look up from the bike he was working on. “Fuck off.”
Work was the only thing keeping him going at the moment. That and his bike. His first love. He spent the hours he wasn’t working out on the open road, trying to forget.
“Yeah, very intelligent answer, bro. Show off your language skills, why don’t you?”
Tanner straightened up from his crouch beside the bike and stared his brother in the face. “What is it you want, Aiden?”
“I want you to get your head out of your ass and cheer the fuck up.”
“I am cheerful.” And that was maybe the biggest lie in the history of some real whoppers.
“Six years. Six miserable years, we’ve let you get away with this.”
“This?” Tanner asked softly.
“And don’t think you’re going to frighten me off with that mean-eyed stare. I’m not a kid anymore.”
“No, you’re not. And I don’t have to listen to this crap.” He grabbed a rag from the table, wiped his hands, and threw the rag on the ground.
“Oh no. You’re not walking out on this conversation. You’re going to stick around and listen for once. Reese!”
Crap. His brother was calling for reinforcements.
Their older brother appeared in the doorway. He was wearing a suit. He looked like a goddamn businessman. What was with that?
He strolled into the room, Josh behind him. Josh had informed Tanner that he should fire his ass and make sure Emily’s job was safe. Tanner had told him to fuck off as well. Anyway, they wouldn’t take Emily’s job away. Not now that she wasn’t marrying him. Being an unwed mother was way better than being married to him.
“Jesus, get that scowl off your face,” Reese said.
They stood in a line in front of him, blocking his exit. He shoved his hands in his pockets and glared. Why were they making such a big deal out of this? Why couldn’t they just leave him the fuck alone?
“Look at you,” Reese snapped. “Have you even changed your clothes recently? You’re a disgrace. And a bad example to Keira. You look more and more like Dad every day. He’d be so proud. A chip off the old block.”
That was a low blow. Especially since he hadn’t had a drink since the night he showed up pissed at Emily’s meeting. He gritted his teeth and let them get on with it.
“We get it,” Aiden said. “You had a shit deal. Your mom died, your dad was a drunk. So was ours, and we don’t spend all day looking fucking miserable and making everyone else miserable as well.”
He gave them his best are-you-shitting-me look.
“And we know you had a raw deal over the Dwain thing. We know it wasn’t your fault.”
How the hell did they know that? He’d certainly never told them what had happened that night.
“We know you,” Reese said. “And the way you’ve been acting with Sawyer since you came back. It wasn’t hard to piece together.”
And he’d thought nobody knew. Who else had pieced stuff together? Lanie, without a doubt, though it had taken her long enough.
“And why won’t you see Mimi?” Josh asked. “She’s been trying to talk to you for a week. And you’re ignoring her. It’s not cool.”
“What are you? My goddamn dad?”
They were all studying him with varying amounts of pity in their eyes. He didn’t need their pity. Or want it. He turned away, paced the room a couple of times, but when he came back they were still standing there.
“What?” he growled.
“We get it. You’re scared.”
“No. I’m. Not.” And he wasn’t. Not anymore. Hadn’t been since he’d made the decision to back away. Leave Emily alone. You couldn’t be scared when you had fuck all to lose. He wasn’t scared. He was…broken-hearted.
Shit. And there it was.
He was goddamned pathetic.
“You have to go and see her,” Aiden said. “Beg her forgiveness. Whatever it takes.”
“Try giving her the ring back,” Josh suggested. “Mimi said she loves that ring.”
“And maybe you could slip in the conversation how much it cost. That should impress her.” Reese had come across the receipt from the jeweler’s last week. He’d been shocked and horrified. Especially when he’d realized that the ring had been lying on Tanner’s dressing table since Emily had returned it.
“Why?” he asked. “Why do you care? Why is this any of your business? Can’t you just leave me the fuck alone?”
“To wallow in misery? I don’t think so.”
“I am not wallowing in misery.” And yet another lie. He was sinking fast.
“Dude, for a little while there you were bordering on human. She made you a better person. We want that better person back. Just go grovel.”
“He won’t need to grovel. According to Mimi, Emily has been trying to see him for the last ten days. He’s been skulking around. Running away.”
She didn’t really want to see him. Why would she? She was the one who had given him the ring back. “She’s just feeling sorry for me.”
“Well, why wouldn’t she be? A fucking miserable bastard like you. She’s probably praying right now that miserable-bastardness isn’t hereditary.”
“I’m doing the right thing. The people here will never let her forget who and what I am.”
“And what are you?” Reese took a step closer, hands on his hips, a glare on his face. “Do you even know? You’ve been doing such a good job of convincing everyone what a badass you are that you probably have no clue who you really are under all that attitude.”
What the hell did that mean? This was who he was. “It doesn’t matter. This isn’t about me. It’s about Emily. I’m no good for her. She’ll be fine once she has her job sorted out and once I’ve moved away. She can put all this behind her.”
Aiden threw up his hands. “Ah, what’s the point,” he muttered. “Too goddamn stubborn to change.” He got a sly look in his eyes. “Anyway. They’re probably right about Emily. She’s seriously lacking in morals. She deserves to lose her job.” Tanner gritted his teeth. “Yeah, a woman like that shouldn’t be around little kids.”
Tanner leaped across the space between them. Aiden didn’t budge, and he slammed into him, and the two of them crashed to the floor.
“Don’t you say a goddamn bad word about her,” Tanner snarled. “She’s worth ten of every other person in this goddamn town, including you assholes.”
Reese and Josh both grabbed an arm, dragging him away from Aiden, and Reese gave him a shake. “Behave.” He turned to Aiden. “You, too. Stop winding him up.”
“At least I got a reaction. Better than the Mr. Misery imitation he’s been doing for the last two weeks.”
Tanner forced himself to relax. He knew Aiden was only trying to get a rise out of him. He’d always been that way, even as a kid. Push, push, push. Until something gave way. And he’d always been able to push Tanner’s buttons.
Aiden scrambled to his feet and brushed himself off, walked over, and cam
e to a halt in front of Tanner. “You love her. Grow some fucking balls and go get her.”
But he couldn’t. What if he told her and she still walked away? What if he bared his soul and she didn’t like what she saw there?
Was it so wrong to just want one person, just one, to see past the outward appearance, past the son of the town drunk, past the teenager everyone thought had stolen a car and killed his best friend? Past the ex-con who had supposedly paid for his crimes, but in the eyes of this town could never pay enough?
And there was the fear all over again.
He looked at his brothers and Josh. They were only trying to help. But how could they? How could he ever expect people to see him differently if he was too scared to let them see the real him? In case they still didn’t like what they saw?
He forced a smile. It felt slightly unnatural. “I know you all want what’s best for me, and I appreciate that. But I have to think about what’s best for Emily and the baby. And it’s not me.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets and headed for the door. This time, they didn’t try and stop him, though there were a few muttered words as he passed. He definitely heard asshole.
He let himself out onto the street and walked for a while, finally heading into his local bar on the corner of Main Street. The bartender glanced up. “Hi, Tanner. What will you have?” He thought about a bottle of scotch. That had been his dad’s drink of choice whenever the old man could afford it.
He could drink himself to oblivion. Just like his dad. But he wasn’t going to do that.
“A coffee.”
The bartender nodded and turned away as someone came to a halt beside Tanner.
Hell. Could this fucking day get any worse?
He blew out his breath. “Hi, Sawyer.”
…
He wouldn’t see her. Emily had tried everything she could, but he always seemed to be one step ahead of her.
“He won’t even talk to me,” she said. “He hates me. I know he does.”
Mimi rolled her eyes. “He doesn’t hate you.”
She could feel her lower lip wobble. “Then why won’t he talk to me?” The words came out as a wail, and Mimi’s eyes narrowed.
“For goodness sake, stop moaning,” she snapped.
At the sharp words, Emily closed her mouth—which had been open to do a bit more moaning. She swallowed down the words. Then blinked a couple of times. “I have been, haven’t I?”
“Yes. And it doesn’t do a lick of good.”
“But I don’t know what else to do.”
Mimi reached out and patted her leg. They were sitting on the swing on the front porch, drinking tea. “If it’s any consolation, Josh says Tanner is even more miserable than you.”
Was it a consolation? Maybe a little bit. Okay, more than a little bit. She’d probably be more than a tad upset if he was wandering around right now with a big grin on his face. But she didn’t really want him to be miserable. She wanted him to be happy. But happy with her.
It had been two weeks since the night of the meeting. She’d called, she’d gone to the showroom and the workshop and his house. She’d even visited the new place in Richmond. But he was always conspicuous by his absence. He must have some sort of Emily radar that told him when she was close.
And tonight was the open meeting with the Board of Education. The whole town was likely to be there, and she felt sick just thinking about it.
And she missed Tanner. She hadn’t even realized how much he’d grown to be a part of her life. Yesterday, she’d gone for the sixteen-week scan. Mimi had come along and held her hand, but she’d wanted Tanner there. And she’d cried when she saw the baby, because he wasn’t there to see little Sophie as well. And he would have loved it, and it wasn’t fair, and she was going to cry again. She clenched her jaw.
No more crying. Or moaning. She had to make a plan.
“Have you talked to Jed Forrester yet?”
“No. He’s being even more evasive than your Tanner. But honestly, if he fires you tonight, I’ll stand up in that room and yell out the truth about that hypocritical bastard.”
This time Emily patted her grandmother’s leg. “No, you won’t.”
They’d already discussed it, and Mimi was not allowed to use her and Jed’s lovechild as a means of blackmail. It just wasn’t right. But Mimi did need to tell him that she had been in contact. If their son turned up on the doorstep, he was likely going to want to know who his father was. And she knew Mimi wanted to be able to be open with him.
The adoption agency had confirmed that they had passed on the letter, but Mimi still hadn’t heard anything else. And Emily was aware it was driving her crazy. That she believed her son blamed her for giving him away, that she hadn’t loved him, hadn’t wanted him.
And Mimi didn’t need the stress.
The sound of an engine approached, and for a second, her heart hitched. Maybe he’d come to hold her hand.
But it wasn’t the throaty purr of Tanner’s Harley. And her hope flagged.
Instead, a truck pulled up in front of the house. She stared inside the tinted windows but couldn’t see who was in there. It wasn’t Tanner’s truck, but maybe…
Then the door opened, and a man climbed out, then another from the passenger side. Reese and Aiden. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome and Mr. Lean, Mean, and Dangerous.
Beside her, Mimi gave a low whistle. “Makes me wish I was young again.” Then the back door opened, and Josh jumped down. “Or maybe not.”
…
“I saw you come in,” Sawyer said, easing onto the barstool next to him.
“And thought you would join me. How fucking sweet. Maybe you thought we could get shitfaced together.”
Truth was, he didn’t know how he felt about Sawyer anymore. Since the fight, the old bitterness seemed to have left him. He just didn’t know whether there was anything left in its place.
“I haven’t had a drink since we had that fight,” Sawyer said. The barman put his coffee down in front of him and looked at Sawyer. “I’ll have the same.”
“How’s Lanie?” Tanner asked.
“Sad. Relieved. Disappointed in me. But at least we’re talking for once. It might take time, but I think we’ll be okay.”
“Good.”
They drank in silence for a minute, but Tanner knew it wouldn’t last. He wasn’t ready for this. He had too many troubles of his own to try and deal with Sawyer’s right now.
“I know the fight got you in trouble. I heard Lanie talking with her dad. He said it just proved you hadn’t changed. That he was doing the right thing. That Emily Towson would see the truth of the matter and break off the engagement.”
“Well, she did that.”
“Only because you pushed her into it.”
“What do you know?”
“I have sources. I heard you turned up at the hearing drunk and pissed her off.”
“Yeah. She was pissed off. But better she knows who I am now, though, rather than later.”
Sawyer snorted. “Yeah. That might be the case. Except it isn’t who you are, is it?”
“What?”
“If it had been me turning up drunk, then that would have been typical Sawyer. But you? Tell me, how many times have you been drunk since you came back to Saddler Cove.”
He didn’t bother to answer, so Sawyer answered for him.
“Once, right? That night of the hearing. Once in six fucking years. Hell, even when we were kids, you wouldn’t get drunk with the rest of us.”
“Well, if you’d had my dad as a role model, you’d probably have been the same.”
“Exactly. So you don’t have a drinking problem. Hey, that doesn’t mean you’re not a bad guy. Let’s look at your other claims to the title. Your father was the town drunk. Hardly your fault. And you kept your family together. Even after Reese left, you looked after Aiden.”
“Sweet as this is, where are you going with this, Sawyer?” Except he suspected he knew, and he didn�
�t want to go there. Not now. Not ever.
“Okay, we’ll move on to the good stuff. You’re a car thief and a killer.”
Tanner’s hand tightened on his mug, and he put it down slowly. “What do you want from me, Sawyer?”
“You mean other than two years of your life, your belief in human nature, and your reputation?”
He let out a laugh. “I hardly had one of those to start with.”
“What’s really gone wrong with you and Emily?”
The change in subject caught him out, and for a moment he floundered. “She deserves better.”
“Better than a man who put his life on the line for his friend who didn’t deserve it.”
“You were drunk that night. It would have gone much worse for you.”
“Yeah. I was drunk. Good old Sawyer, always ready to party. That’s hardly an excuse. I was drunk, and I persuaded Dwain to take his daddy’s car, then I drove it too fast, and we crashed. And Dwain died. But they weren’t my worst crimes. Those came later.”
Tanner held his silence, because he sensed Sawyer needed to get this out of his system. This is what he’d needed since Tanner came back. Confession and absolution. And Tanner was the only person he could get that from.
“I climbed out of that car and I ran. And you got the blame.”
He remembered that night so well. It had replayed in his dreams. If he’d just done anything different.
“They can’t find me here,” Sawyer had said. “Another strike, and I’m in prison.” Sawyer had already, at the age of eighteen, gotten two DUIs under his belt. “And Lanie will never forgive me.”
“Go,” Tanner had said.
Sawyer had hugged him in relief. “Look after Dwain.” They hadn’t known then that Dwain was fatally injured. That he would die two days later from those injuries. By then it was too late for Tanner to change his story. He’d considered it, talked to his crappy lawyer, who’d convinced him that changing his statement was a bad idea—he’d get no leniency for lying in a statement and likely get the max anyway. Put your faith in the system, the lawyer had said to Tanner. This was a first offense, most likely he wouldn’t even do time. Hah!