Forward Passes (Seattle Lumberjacks) (24 page)

“I don’t want to hear this. My grandmother has always had my best interests at heart.” Despite her words, the cold hand of truth clutched her throat, almost strangling her. Yanking free of Tyler’s grasp, she covered her face with her hands.

“Are you certain of that? I think you’re afraid she’ll cut you out of her life just like your brother. Her love is conditional—
Do this for me, and I’ll love you. Don’t do this, and I won’t.
That’s bullshit. Pure and simple. Healthy parents or grandparents encourage their children to have a relationship with the other parent. They don’t do their best to poison it.”

“You don’t know anything.” Lavender hugged herself, praying she didn’t throw up.

“You’re an animal lover with no animals. I know you walk on eggshells around her. You pretend to be a rebel on the surface but it’s all show. Underneath, you conform to everything she asks you.”

“You’re so wrong.” Her stomach churned and bile rose in her throat, as the obvious truth blindsided her.

Tyler crossed to the antique roll-top desk in the corner of the large room. He opened it and removed a large manila envelope.

“Take a look at this stuff. My sisters did some research for me. It’s all here. The records for child support your grandmother claimed your father didn’t pay, the deed on the property, all of it.” Tyler shoved the envelope into her hands.

Lavender stared at the bulging envelope. Her hands shook. If she looked inside, life as she’d come to know it might change forever. Truths she took as the gospel might be shaken to their very foundations.

She couldn’t look, couldn’t take that step.

She stalked to the fire, and tossed the alleged damning evidence into the flames. Whirling around, she rubbed her hands together, squared her shoulders, and spoke clearly. “That’s the last I want to hear of this subject. Please drop it. It’s too painful for me right now. I’m not ready.”

His face changed. The hard rigid lines gave way to affectionate concern. He managed a sad smile, but his brow furrowed with worry. “I’m sorry.” He moved close to her.

Those two little words came across as so heartfelt, so genuine, Lavender’s heart wrenched and tears flowed down her cheeks. Obviously assuming she was crying because of her family drama, Tyler wrapped her in his strong arms. She tried to push him away, but he didn’t budge. He rubbed her back with gentle hands and murmured words of comfort in her ear. His husky voice tickled her insides and uninvited tenderness seeped to the surface. Caving, she buried her head in his chest and sobbed for all she’d lost and was about to lose in her life, most of all for this man.

Sure, she’d been pissed as hell at him for interfering, for shaking things up, for dredging up painful memories, but he’d done it with the best of intentions. A woman couldn’t hate a man for caring.

Caring?

He cared?
Well, of course, he cared. At least a little because as much as she tried to convince herself otherwise, Tyler Harris was a good guy. Sure, he had his asshole moments like when he baited her grandmother. Despite his best or worst intentions, the nice guy shone through. She almost laughed as she clung to him. He’d be appalled at how well she saw through him, so she’d keep it her little secret.

Lavender breathed in the alluring scent of soap and man. She could get used to not being so strong all the time and letting him carry the load for a little while.

Yet, precious times like these were fleeting and temporary. The man caused as much mayhem in her life as he did joy. She didn’t need the brand of rollercoaster romance that happened to be Tyler’s signature.

Still, for tonight and the next few days, she’d throw her hands in the air and scream for the thrill of it as that rollercoaster careened around the corners on the wildest ride of her lifetime. And she needed that wild ride right now so she could forget the pain.

“Just make me feel better. Please.”

For a second, Tyler almost looked like he would turn her down, but his little head must have won the battle. Instead, he grabbed her and threw her over his shoulder as if her weight was insignificant. From her position, she zeroed in on his fine ass and took advantage of the situation. Raising her hand, she smacked one firm butt cheek with the palm of her hand. His fingers tightened around her thighs in response.

“You’re going to regret that.” He put his growled threat into action and smacked her butt. She yelped and tried to wiggle out of his grasp. Impossible. The man’s muscles held like a steel trap. He smacked her again.

“You know I like that.”

“I’m always one to give a lady what she likes.”

“Is that a promise?”

“You bet your sweet ass it is.”

And just like that the queen of denial mounted her throne and did what she did best—avoided the real problems in her life and substituted sex as a short-term solution.

A long-term resolution would have to wait for another day.

Chapter 25

The End Run

Tyler stared beyond the protected Outlaw Bay to the waters of Hazard Channel as he had countless times before.

His eyes didn’t register the beauty as his thoughts focused inward.

He wanted to rip his hair out by the roots in frustration. He couldn’t recall dealing with a weirder situation, and he’d had some doozies over the years. He didn’t know how to get through to Lavender. Her grandmother was hopeless, but the Lavender he’d come to know and lo—

Love?

Tyler slammed the brakes on that thought.

Cass had been a fixture in his life for years, yet he’d never called what they had together love. In fact, he’d never told Cass he’d loved her, not even when he sort of proposed. Could he have fallen in love with Lavender, an obnoxious, pixy-sized woman with a passionate temper and fire red hair? Hell, if he stuck around her much longer, he’d have major back problems from bending down all the time. Her head barely came to his midsection. A wicked grin slid across his face. Of course, her height did have its advantages.

Oh, yeah, they enjoyed each other’s company in and out of bed. The bantering between them made life exciting and unpredictable. She kept Tyler on his toes. They had a lot in common. Animals took up a soft spot in both their hearts. Come to find out, Lavender was actually a sports fan, too, and quite knowledgeable, even though she denied her interest in sports, especially football, every step of the way.

Last night had thrown him off his game completely. He’d bargained for some down-and-dirty sex and had not been disappointed. Yet, somewhere in all the grunting, sweating, thrusting, and sliding, a seed of compassion took root. He didn’t quite know what they’d planted, only that even as they screwed each other’s brains out, this thing sprouted and grew, leaving him wrapped in a blanket of warm contentment for hours afterward.

When he finally came down out of the stratosphere and regained his senses, he attempted to convince his brain—both of them—the entire thing had to be a fluke, a bi-product of mind-blowing sex and nothing of substance, not like the utter devotion he’d witnessed over the years between his parents.

Still, he conceded Lavender had given him something special. He was bound and determined to give as good as he got.

In a few days he could leave the island for good, head back to the city with all its excitement and bustle, so many things to do and places to go.

His gaze settled on the bay and the channel beyond it, the same bay his great-great grandparents sailed into so many years ago and decided to stay. They’d raised their children here. They’d laughed, loved, and cried here. Hell, they’d even bootlegged whiskey here back in the prohibition days. And they’d buried their dead. Oh, yeah, he’d found the headstones of the small overgrown family cemetery a week or so ago. He wondered about the people buried there. What would they think of his plans to destroy his legacy? Their love of this place was coded in his DNA.

His decision to sell seemed so simple almost three months ago. He swallowed past the lump in his throat. Once he returned to Seattle and his old life, he’d gain some needed perspective.

But for now, he wasn’t in any hurry to move back to the mainland. Lavender’s birthday was coming up, the same day his ninety-day exile ended, a weird coincidence not wasted on him. He wanted it to be special, one last hurrah before they parted ways, and they had to part ways. Tyler hated long-distance romances. He needed his woman available when the urge struck and not on some island in the middle of fu—effing nowhere.

Still...

Crap.
Was this how love felt? This inexplicable need for another person, to be so close that even when physically separated she was still there. In his heart.

Tyler pressed his forehead against the cool window, striving to clear his head of all these contradictory thoughts. As a man schooled in snap decisions, he’d never been so conflicted. He’d figure out his future when the moment presented itself, and trust his instincts. They’d served him well in the past. But for now, he had some planning to do for a birthday she’d never forget.

He knew exactly the perfect present. She may not appreciate it at first. But if he knew his Lavender, she’d thank him later, once the smoke cleared. Her initial reaction wouldn’t be pretty, but he was a big guy, and he’d handle it, even if he couldn’t handle five geriatric men with no manners and an orange tabby cat.

Speaking of the devils themselves.

Tyler sighed, as Homer and Jim sauntered into his den. “Don’t you two know how to knock?”

“Why should we knock?” Jim squinted at him and mistook the cat for a pillow. Yowling in protest, Cougar slid out from under Jim, shook himself off, and glared at the old man over his shoulder.

“So for what reason did you break into my house this time?” Tyler adopted a long-suffering expression normally reserved when addressing his sisters.

The two men looked at each other, as if they’d forgotten why they were harassing him. Tyler waited them out as they consulted with each other in whispers.

Finally Jim turned back to him. “We want you to keep this place.”

“Really?” Tyler suppressed the urge to laugh and had no clue what he found so funny.

Homer ran a hand over the now-finished banister, gleaming with a fresh coat of varnish. “I can offer my services to oversee the renovations.”

“Okay, but why?”

Again that quick look between the two men. “We like you. This island needs some young blood and so does Twin Cedars. The Harrises have long been a fixture around here. It’s time for the next generation to pick up the torch.”

“You make it sound like an Olympic event.”

“Restoring this place might as well be.”

They’d get no argument from Tyler on that point.

“Artie had a method to his madness when he left the place to you. He knew if he forced you to stay here, you’d fall in love with it like he had, like your grandfather and your father had. And like all your ancestors before them.” Jim bent down to study the banister more closely. “Wasn’t this orange?”

“Lime green.” Tyler corrected him.

“If he’d left it to us, we would have sold it or lost it. It would’ve been bulldozed. Artie didn’t want that, but he couldn’t afford to restore it either. You can.”

Could he afford it? Yeah, probably if he handled his money better, played five more years, quit wasting his life on parties, women, and material stuff that didn’t make him feel any better.

Tyler didn’t react on the outside, but on the inside, he staggered backward as if punched in the gut.

He couldn’t sell Twin Cedars.

It needed to stay in his family and generations of Harrises to come. His sly old uncle had known exactly what he was doing when he’d written the ninety-day requirement into the will. Uncle Art knew him better than he’d known himself.

“So you guys want to help me out with renovations?”

“Well, when we have time. The Widow Chandler’s been giving me the eye. At my age a guy goes for the bird in the hand.” Homer winked at him and slicked back his hair, preening like a peacock in the antique mirror hanging on the wall.

“She’s not giving you the eye; she’s giving me the eye.” Jim pushed him out of the way to squint at the mirror, even though Tyler doubted he could actually see his reflection.

“It’s me she’s sweet on. What would she want with an old coot like you?” Homer pushed back and postured in front of the mirror, flexing non-existent muscles in his skinny arms.

“You’re both old coots.” Tyler settled the argument, or so he thought. No such luck.

Both men ignored Tyler and continued their arguing over who would win the favors of some blue-haired old lady. Tyler cranked the sound on the television and settled into his chair, listening to the sounds of home.

Tyler grinned, finally grasping the true value of the important things in his life. Things he’d denied himself in the past as being unworthy. Things money couldn’t buy. Putting his heart on the line scared the crap out of him, but he’d handle the fear and be a better man for it.

Ryan would approve, and so would Tyler’s dad.

* * * * *

Bundled in a heavy sweatshirt, Lavender leaned her head on Tyler’s broad shoulder. The dock rocked gently underneath them as the current from the incoming tide pushed against the floats. A thick quilt protected them from splinters and offered some cushion from the wood planks. Stars twinkled in the night sky and frogs croaked cheerfully in a nearby pond.

A crisp breeze scented the spring air with a combination of fir trees and salt water. A bottle of wine sat between them, along with two wine glasses. Tyler draped his arm across Lavender’s shoulders, the gesture seemed casual, yet a niggling feeling warned Lavender it was more than that.

She saw herself sitting here with this man on this dock through all the seasons until their hair turned gray and their wrinkled faces attested to the happy life they’d led together.

In her wildest dreams.

She recognized an illusion when it bit her in the butt. Her recent battles
with Tyler regarding her family
opened a void between them and rammed home the impossibility of anything lasting. Despite the inevitable hanging over them, she embraced the moment as if it might be their last, because some intuitive part of her understood it was.

Even though she’d fallen in love with the loveable asshole.

In a few days, he’d leave her and her shattered heart for the mainland and his old life. She’d stay here and dream of things that could’ve been and never would be. And she’d do so without regrets because a life without risks wasn’t much of a life at all. She’d cherish every moment they had together.
Tonight the beauty of the islands weaved its magic around her heart. The moon’s soft glow bathed them in a golden light. Breathing life into their doomed relationship, she’d cherish this fleeting moment in her life forever. Tyler sipped his wine, seemingly content to just be and not ruin the spell with shallow words and unrealistic promises. His body warmth flowed through him into her, keeping her cozy on this cool spring night.

“Are you going back to football?”

“I don’t know what else to do.” He stared out at the water, but a muscle jerked in his jaw, betraying how conflicted he still was on that subject.

“Tyler, do what you love for the right reason, or you’ll no longer love it.” She touched his strong jaw with a finger and let it bump along his ever-present stubble. “What’s the reason you play football, Ty? Is it the money, the fame, or something else?”

He mulled her question over for a minute, as if trying to figure out the answer. “I’ve never wanted to do anything else. It’s always been football as long as I can remember. When I was a toddler I slept with a football. When I was in junior high school, I watched every game I could on TV. My dad and I would analyze every play, every move made by a quarterback. In high school, I knew I wasn’t just good; I was one of the best. Call me arrogant, but a top-level athlete better be arrogant on the field because once you get to the pros, everyone’s operating with essentially the same skill set and athletic ability. So the other ninety percent is mental.”

“And that’s been your problem. The mental.”

“Yeah, lately. Since Ryan.” His voice sounded choked, as if a vise squeezed his heart.

“Tell me about Ryan.” She entwined her fingers with his.

Tyler tensed and stared out at the water. He blew out a long breath, seemed to consider his options, then answered. “I never let myself get involved, especially with kids. I get tons of requests to see kids, especially sick kids. I usually find time but keep it on a superficial level. Ryan wasn’t superficial, and his death made me question everything I’d ever believed about myself. When my life is over, can I honestly say I’ve done my very best and used the tools and talents at my disposal to make other people’s lives richer? Would this world be improved because I’d been in it for a short time? But I’m off subject. You asked about Ryan.”

Lavender nodded. He gripped her shoulder tighter.

“Ryan was a high school quarterback and a good one. Derek got to know him through Mitch.”

“Mitch?”

“Rachel’s brother. Mitch coached the kid in high school, an up and coming star. Several months before his senior year, Ryan was diagnosed with cancer and given six months to live. When he was pretty much wheelchair bound, his mother, a local barfly and worse, skipped out on him. None of us knew he was living alone until Ryan fell out of his wheelchair and couldn’t get back up. He called Derek to rescue him. After that, Mitch took Ryan in. The team adopted him. The players’ wives took turns keeping an eye on him during the day and the players hung out with him in the evening. He became everyone’s little brother, especially for Derek and me.”

“I didn’t know. I mean I’d heard about Ryan, but I didn’t know how involved the team was with him.”

“He was the little brother I never had and always wanted. I got pretty attached to the kid. He asked me to find his mother so he could say goodbye to her. I found her stripping in Vegas. She refused to come back.” Tyler’s voice cracked. He rubbed his hands over his face. “The team was just walking off the flight after winning the division title, next stop the Super Bowl when we got the call. Ryan was in the hospital for one last time. He wouldn’t make it out. Derek and I raced there as did the rest of the team. The kid died a few minutes later. I got to say good bye to him. He told me he loved me and that he saw through me, that I did care about people. I didn’t know how to take that. I felt like a fake. I died that day, too, but I pushed through the next two weeks in a haze, a man on a mission. I swore we’d win the Super Bowl for Ryan or die trying. I’ve never wanted anything so badly in all my life.”