What Tears Us Down: A Single Dad Standalone Romance (Arrow Creek Book 3)

by A. M. Wilson

  “Ouch.”

  I laugh. “Unfortunately, I’m calling to cancel our plans.”

  A brief pause. “Oh?”

  “I’ve been roped into some extra work for a client. Paid, of course, so I couldn’t say no.”

  The second pause is a beat longer. “I’m glad it’s not something serious keeping you back.”

  “The opposite, actually. With this unexpected money, I think I’m ready to start scoping out a place.”

  “That’s wonderful news, Evie. I’m happy for you.” Except he sounds incredibly disappointed.

  “Is something going on with you today? You sound upset.”

  Rhett clears his throat. “No, nothing wrong here.”

  “You know if you were looking forward to tonight, you’re welcome to still meet them for dinner. Is that weird? I’m sorry if that’s weird.” I’m thankful he can’t see the flush covering my cheeks and chest.

  “It’s not weird. Though I think I’m going to take the time to get some more work done here.”

  This conversation veers into awkward territory. “Understandable. I have to let them know I can’t make it, so I’m going to let you go.”

  “Will I see you later?”

  His question cools the heat of embarrassment but strikes a different flame. “I have the room for one more night, so if you’re open to it, I am too.”

  “Not even a question, Rosie.”

  “We’re on the same page then.”

  “See you tonight.”

  “Bye, Rhett.”

  Immediately after hanging up, I find my brother’s contact. Just as the phone rings, Tommy twists and tries to climb out of my arms. “Oh, okay little guy. Let me set you down.”

  “I don’t know who you’re talking to, but I don’t think that was meant for me,” Eric says in answer.

  “Don’t be weird,” I fire back as I walk behind a wandering Tommy. “I have to be that person and cancel tonight. A moneymaking gig fell into my lap.”

  “This wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain guy you’ve been sleeping with?”

  “Fortunately for your sensitive ears, I can honestly say no. My client was in desperate need of a last-minute babysitter and offered to double my wage for the day if I stayed.”

  I follow Tommy into the kitchen. His little fingers wrap around the side of my palm. I swear my heart transforms into a puddle of goo. While leading us to whatever he wants to show me, he yanks on the handle to the fridge as my brother says, “Damn.”

  “I should be able to start looking for a place next week.”

  “This takes the sting out of you canceling for sure, though I’m going to miss seeing you.”

  “Can we meet for lunch? Same place?” I have to release Tommy’s hand to open the fridge and peer inside. The organization is surprisingly immaculate. Labeled containers line each shelf, and I easily spot one that says dinner leftovers with yesterday’s date.

  Muffled words sound in my ear. Caiti must be nearby. “Make it breakfast and in town.”

  “Deal.”

  “We’ll text you in the morning then.”

  “I’ll await the details. I have to go feed this little dude.”

  “Have fun.” Eric ends the call.

  I toss my phone onto the counter and grab the container. “Okay. Looks like green beans, mashed potatoes, and ground hamburger for you. Sounds yummy!”

  Upon turning, big, brown eyes peer up at me from knee height. A drool-covered finger disappears into his mouth.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Yah!”

  I scoop him up and situate him on my hip. He looks into the container. “Do you like green beans?” I pop the dish into the microwave.

  “Green beans,” he repeats excitedly. “I want to eat. Green beans!”

  The cute sentences spread a smile across my face. While we wait for the food to heat, I sway us to an imaginary beat. Tommy’s squeals turn into high-pitched giggles with each turn.

  “Do you like that?”

  His answer is another squeal, and he bangs his hands on my shoulders. I execute another twirl. Tommy throws his torso back and screeches happily.

  The sound of a gong-like doorbell interrupts my imaginary song and startles me from our dance.

  “We should go see who that is, huh?”

  Pride swells as I step back into the immaculate foyer. The clouded glass shows a shadowed figure on the other side. Nora didn’t mention expecting company, but it’d be rude not to tell them she’s out for the evening.

  With Tommy clutched on one hip, I swing the door open with the other hand. Only to come face-to-face with Rhett.

  “Oh. Hi.” Confused surprise colors my tone.

  “What are you doing here?” He steps into the house without waiting for my invitation, giving the distinct impression he’s been here before. An unpleasant inkling spikes in my gut.

  “Dah!” Tommy lunges with his arms extended in Rhett’s direction.

  Dah? As in dad?

  “I think there’s a misunderstanding here,” I start.

  “You think? How long have you known my ex-wife?”

  That spike burrows deeper. “Nora is your ex-wife? That means Tommy is…”

  “Yeah. My son. I’m not going to lie, Evie. I don’t like this one bit.”

  Now that my arms are free, I cross them over my chest in a protective stance. Tentacles of jealousy sprout in every direction. “I don’t even know what’s going on here. I’m sure there’s some sort of explanation.”

  “Are you a part of her game?”

  “What game?”

  “Whatever game she’s playing to keep my son, my money, this f—” He looks at the little boy in his arms. “Freaking house from me?” His level tone doesn’t give much away. Tommy rocks happily in Rhett’s arms, none the wiser to our conversation.

  “If this is her game, then I’m just a pawn. She’s the client I met at the store. I clean this house.”

  “You clean my house?” The question sounds like a warning in his deceptively calm voice.

  Tommy slaps Rhett’s cheek loudly. “Dah! Green beans, please.”

  “I was about to feed him.”

  Rhett’s attention flicks from his son to me. “You should go. I’ve got it from here.”

  Something inside me cinches painfully tight. An emotion I didn’t know I possessed for this man. Our fun and flirty friends situation suddenly feels like an aching loss.

  I slip on my shoes and grab my purse from the floor. “I didn’t do anything wrong.” I look him in the eye as I try to decipher if he feels it too.

  Rhett pinches the bridge of his nose with his free hand and closes his eyes. Three seconds tick past before he opens them and releases a steady exhale.

  “No…You didn’t.”

  The confliction on his face doesn’t jive with his words.

  I want to suggest I stay or that we meet later, but before I can, the door flies open, and I’m knocked to the side. My left ankle rolls beneath me. A sharp pain shoots up my calf as I manage to catch myself on the door handle.

  “Oh, pardon me. I didn’t know you were standing there.” Nora enters the foyer. She glances back and forth between the two of us. “You’ve met my husband. I’m sorry, I didn’t know he’d be here.”

  So many things go through my head, like who the hell doesn’t know where their husband is, but my ankle takes priority. This isn’t my party to crash. If I’ve learned anything about Rhett, it’s that he’ll want to deal with this in private. Even if the jealous part of me wants to demand to know what’s going on.

  Tension crackles through the air like the static before a lightning strike.

  “What the hell is going on, Nora?” Rhett breaks the staring match, asking my question out loud.

  “I don’t know what you mean. I was rushing back to meet you here so we could discuss like you asked.”

  “No, you asked.” Rhett takes a step forward. “I’m trying to wrap up this ridiculous charade. Wh
y is Evie here?”

  I test weight on my ankle, ready to step forward and get Tommy out of here. He’s not my child, but no kid should watch their parents fight.

  Nora pulls a self-righteous face. “She’s just my cleaner. What’s it to you what I pay her to do?”

  “Do you often leave our son with your hired help?” Rhett fires back.

  Ouch.

  “She seems trustworthy to me, though I may need to reconsider.” Nora’s face twists in disgust.

  I fight back a wince.

  “You know what she is to me. You saw the two of us, didn’t you?” Rhett keeps at her.

  This conversation gives me whiplash. I wait with bated breath for Rhett to spell out what exactly I am to him.

  “The two of you?” Nora looks back and forth between us with a sneer. “That’s a new level of low for you, Rhett.”

  “I’m standing right here.” I won’t let anyone trash me to my face. My father raised me better than that.

  “You can go.” Nora steps away from the door and sweeps her arm to gesture outside. “And don’t come back. Our contract is void. I can’t have a homewrecker for a maid.”

  Her words pierce my chest like a knife. Not that I particularly liked her, but this job nearly got me on my feet. The loss of it will knock me down again.

  I step into the open door. “For the record, I didn’t ruin anything. You did that all on your own before I got here.”

  “Just go, Evie.”

  I’m shocked silent. The blistering demand comes from Rhett. When I force myself to meet his gaze, he glances away and rubs his hand over his lined brow.

  As I turn my back and limp away, I tell myself not to jump to conclusions. They clearly have unresolved issues to work through that don’t involve me.

  That doesn’t mean that as I climb in my car and drive back to the hotel, tears don’t silently fall down my cheeks the entire way.

  His words fucking hurt me.

  21

  Rhett

  The walk down the hall to Evie’s room feels like trudging through wet concrete. Each step is leaden. Though it’s nothing compared to the weight in my gut. Raising my fist to knock takes more effort than I’ve ever exerted to announce my arrival. The two pounds of my fists seem inadequate and over the top at the same time.

  The door swings open. Eric blocks my entrance with an angry scowl slashing his brows. I’m struck again at the similarities between the siblings. That is, until he opens his mouth.

  “You fucked up.”

  “I know.”

  “I haven’t even left yet, and you already fucked up.”

  I want to sag in defeat, but I remain rigid in my posture. “I need to talk to her.”

  “She’s had quite the amount of time to contemplate whatever just happened. Are you sure you don’t need to take an hour or two to do the same?”

  Not what I was expecting from the overprotective bro. “Aren’t you supposed to be on her side?”

  He laughs without humor. “Sometimes, being on her side is forcing her to see what she refuses to. I only have half a story here, but I’m thinking that conclusions were rushed to.”

  I run a hand over the back of my skull. “You could say that.”

  He silently leans against the doorjamb.

  “She won’t answer my calls.” Three hours and what feels like a hundred texts have passed since I ordered Evie out of that house. The instant she turned her back, I was consumed with regret. The desperation to wrap up my divorce kept my feet planted instead of chasing her like I wanted. Miracle of all miracles, that aspect worked. Now I need Evie to understand the choice had nothing to do with her.

  “I suspect not since she’s with Caiti, and when she gets going…if you thought Evie’s a firecracker, you might not want to see the two of them riled up.”

  “Fuck,” I mutter.

  “Yep.”

  “Are you going to give me your room number so I can talk to her?”

  “I don’t think so. You need to heed my advice and think on it before you force this conversation.”

  “Thanks for the help,” I mutter. I walk a couple of paces down the hall while Eric watches from the open doorway. Even without hearing his door shut, I know he’s still there with his eyes on my back.

  I bracket my hands on either side of my mouth. “Evie!” I bellow down the hall.

  “Jesus Christ, man. Don’t do that.”

  I turn my head over my shoulder. “You could make it easier by giving me the room number or else I’m moving up a floor.”

  He shakes his blond head. “You like her a hell of a lot, huh?”

  “So much that I’m out of patience.” I turn back around and head toward the elevator, ready to shout the fucking building down until I find her.

  “1212!” he hollers at my retreating back.

  “You might as well come along unless you want to sleep in a different room than your wife.” If this goes my way, Evie will be sleeping in my bed tonight.

  The door to his room clicks shut seconds before his footsteps trail mine.

  We both hold remaining retorts until I start to barrel off the elevator on the twelfth floor. Eric steps in my path.

  “You better make this right by her. I don’t care how you do it. Even if you have to break up with her, just be a fucking man and don’t jerk her around. Her heart can’t take that. If this other woman means something to you, then leave Evie alone. Don’t think because I’m leaving tomorrow that I won’t hop the first flight back just to kick your ass.”

  “I respect you for saying that. Now I hope you’ll return the favor when I say this other woman is my ex-wife and the mother to my son. For that, she’s earned her place in my life, but beyond those titles, she means nothing.”

  Eric moves out of my way but remains close behind. Rather than knocking, he uses his own key card to let us inside. Despite our first interaction, I like this guy. His actions prove he has his sister’s best interests in mind.

  “What are you doing back?” Caiti stands from one of the queen beds, stopping short when I emerge from behind her husband. “Oh, hell no. You can turn your ass back around where you came from.”

  All I can do is hold my hands up as this little five-foot-two, one-hundred-thirty-pound powerhouse barrels toward me. And choke down the laughter rising to the surface. I haven’t been slapped by a girl since high school, and I’m not eager for a repeat experience.

  “Call her off, Eric. I have shit to do,” I mumble to her amused spouse. He actually does laugh while intercepting his wife in a bear hug.

  “Let them be, baby.” He chuckles close to her ear. From my perspective, she appears to melt in his arms.

  The desire to laugh dies as I fixate on Evie. A plastic bag of ice rests on her ankle.

  “What the fuck happened?”

  Her dull expression stops me in my path. “I tweaked it.”

  Tweaked it while fleeing my fucking ex-wife? “Can you walk?”

  She nods.

  I jerk my head toward the door. “Give me a second, Evie?”

  “Sure.”

  I wait patiently as she leashes Ghost for a potty break. Either she’s hiding the pain or her ankle isn’t too bad. My stomach pitches when I realize she doesn’t intend to leave with me. And why would she? The only place we have to go is the house she just found out belongs to my ex-wife. As soon as she’s close enough that I could count the freckles on her cheeks if I wanted, I confiscate the lead from her hands.

  “Let me help.”

  Her despondent demeanor hits me. This is the first time I’ve seen her sullen and quiet like this. Even on the day of the hike, she was vibrant and passionate in sharing her pain. This silent side doesn’t feel like the Evie I’ve come to know.

  She walks beside me to the elevator bank. By the time I hit the call button, she still hasn’t spoken, and it twists me up inside. The least she could do is send some of her fiery attitude my way and put me in my place.

  My index finger
slides beneath her chin, tilting her gaze to meet mine while I press her back against the wall.

  “I’m sorry for hurting you.” I force my gaze to remain steady on her gorgeous eyes. While I try to convey the seriousness in my statement, a line of tears catches on her lower lids.

  Fuck.

  Just as quickly as they formed, she jerks her head to the side, dislodging my point of contact. “Thanks.” She sniffs quietly and tries to duck around me.

  “What is that shit?” I bark, losing the tight control on my own emotions. The sudden rush of hurt surprises me. Almost as much as her wanting to get away from my touch.

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  The elevator dings as the doors slide open, and I chase Evie inside.

  “Like hell you don’t. Don’t hide your feelings from me.”

  Evie tucks herself into the back corner. I crave being near her, but it’s clear she wants space. Even if that distance slices me in two.

  As soon as the elevator banks, I snag her hand firmly in mine. “Are you sure your ankle is okay?”

  “It’s fine, Rhett,” she sighs.

  “Come on.”

  Without a care to who’s around, I lead her through the lobby and out the revolving doors. Across the blacktop sits an open field, perfect for Ghost to do her business while we talk or fight or whatever it is we’re about to do. I’ll be damned if I let her go to bed alone with whatever she’s feeling. Not if there’s a chance I can fix this chasm I created.

  The dry grass crunches beneath our shoes. Ghost precedes us, nose to the ground, oblivious to the crackling tension between Evie and me.

  “Talk to me,” I damn near beg.

  As if she suddenly remembered we’re joined, she takes her hand from mine under the guise of fixing her hair and tugging up her hood.

  “I really don’t know what you want me to say.”

  “I want to know if those tears were because of me and how I can help.”

  “You can’t help.”

  Ghost chooses this moment to stop, and I use it to my advantage. Evie tries to keep walking to God knows where when I have her dog. Right before she’s out of reach, I manage to curl my fingers around her bicep and spin her back.

  “You blame me.”