Tank (Blue-Collar Billionaires #1) (15 page)

And I’d played directly into his hands.
 

I turn to Tank and cup his face between my hands. He’s startled but leans closer, turning into the warmth of my palm.
 

“If you don’t want to see him, then you shouldn’t have to. Do what your heart tells you to do and nothing less.”
 

His eyes bore into mine like he’s trying to read the truth of my words in my gaze. Then he leans closer. He glances up at me, giving me plenty of time to back away. To turn away.

But I don’t.

His lips cover mine and soon my fingers get lost in his thick hair. His other arm lifts to hold me closer and the kiss deepens. When he kissed me before, it was all tangled up in heat and urgency. But this is completely different.
 

His fingers spread through my hair, holding me still as his tongue plumbs the depths of my mouth. All the while his thumb traces a soft path on my cheek. A soft noise escapes the back of my throat and the sound seems to spur him on. The way he touches me is so surprising. He treats me like I’m delicate, something he wants to protect but also like I’m the hottest thing he’s ever seen.
 

Voices drift from the slightly open door behind us and then there’s the clatter of dishes in the sink. The loud sounds remind me where we are. Claire or Finn could come out at any time and catch us. I pull back and take several deep gasping breaths. Tank is just as affected. His chest heaves and he closes his eyes, fighting for control.
 

I’d be a liar if I said it didn’t give me immense satisfaction to watch this big, magnificent male creature fighting to control himself around me. But the longer I’m around Tank, the more I realize just how little possibility there is for us.
 

Even though he doesn’t know it, I’m just one more person that Tank can’t trust. One more person who wants something from him.

“I like you, Tank.”

His eyes cloud and he pulls back slightly. “There’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere. We’re amazing together, Emma. I’ve never felt this kind of chemistry with anyone before. Have you?”

“No but that doesn’t mean it’s right. If it was any other time maybe I’d say we should just go with it and have a little fun. You’re dealing with a lot and I’m still trying to get my education back on track. I think we need some time apart. To think. I don’t have time for distractions and you have distraction written all over you.”

The words seem to please him because he grins, that sexy, arrogant grin. “I’ll give you some time. But I don’t think it’ll change anything.”
 

“If we let it go any further, I’ll only end up liking you more.”

Suddenly his face changes. Becomes dark again. His mood swings are always so abrupt, they scare me a little. “I’m not sure I can stay away from you,” he admits.

The confession rips at my conscience. He wouldn’t feel that way if he knew why I was really here. Once he knows he’ll hate me.
 

And that’s what I’m really afraid of.

T
ANK

There’s no right way to meet your father again. It’s been twenty years since I’ve seen the man. But after my conversation with Emma a few days ago, I’ve made my decision. Spending time with my father will never be high on my priority list but getting medical care for my mother is. That’s what my heart is saying loud and clear. Save Mom. And that’s what I’m going to do.
 

Emma would be proud of my decision. I really wish she was here with me now. But she wanted time so I’ll give it to her. Maybe she’s right and it really is bad timing or maybe I just came on too strong. A family dinner may have been too much too soon. Plus all the drama at the dinner table would be enough to scare anyone off.
 

I knock on the door of my father’s hotel room. A young woman answers the door. She leans back slightly at the sight of my scowling expression. I run a hand over my face and try to look neutral. I don’t want to be here but that’s not anyone else’s problem.
 

“Tanner Marshall. Come in. Your father is expecting you.” She leads me to a spacious living area. “Have a seat. He’ll be out shortly.”

The hotel is pretty swank. It’s exactly the kind of place I’d expect him to be. “This is a nice hotel.”

“Yes, it is. Mr. Marshall remodeled it last year.” She smiles absently and then turns to leave the room.

“He owns the hotel?”

She gives me an odd look. “Yes, of course. He owns all of the StarCrest Hotels.”

“Of course he does.” Resentment festers just below the surface. Each one of these rooms goes for an astronomical rate. While my mom was clipping coupons and working two jobs, my father was buying hotels.
 

Briefly, I wonder if I’ll even recognize him. My last memories of him were from the perspective of an eight-year-old boy. What boy doesn’t think his father walks on water? But I’m a man now and I wonder what it’ll be like to meet him again this way. Will he still seem familiar?
 

If I could have, I would have put this meeting off. Taken some time to prepare myself. But since I agreed to his terms, I have to meet with him in thirty days or less. I don’t want to take any chances. If I keep to his agreed upon schedule then the money in my trust will continue to grow. So I’ll visit with him until I have enough to pay for all of my mom’s care. I may have to visit him to get the money but there’s nothing in that paperwork that says I have to like it.
 

“Tanner. You’re here.”

I turn at the grizzled voice in the doorway. My face probably shows my surprise but it’s too late to cover my reaction. When Patrick mentioned that my father was ill, it didn’t really hit me that he would look sick. But this elderly man in a wheelchair is not what I was expecting. I don’t bother correcting my name. He can call me whatever. I don’t plan to be here enough for it to matter.

“Yes. I’m here.”

“Would you like something to drink? They have lemonade. You always did like lemonade.”

“I liked it when I was eight, Dad.” The word slips out before I can stop it and it annoys me. I don’t want to call him that. He hasn’t earned the right to that title.

His face falls slightly but he recovers, wheeling himself over to the sideboard. He selects a decanter and pours himself a drink. “Of course. You’d probably be more likely to want a scotch right about now.”

The fact that he’s right only ratchets my irritation higher.
 

“Actually I don’t want anything. I’m not here for a drink. You already know why I’m here. Mom needs surgery so I need the money. It’s that simple.”

“I don’t have any right to ask but I’ll ask anyway. Why does she need surgery?”

Keeping it a secret out of spite crosses my mind but who would that serve? He can’t hurt her anymore at this point. Maybe if he realizes that she’s sick and needs me, he’ll let me out of these stupid scheduled visits.
 

“It’s cancer. She has breast cancer.”

He tosses the drink back but before he does, I see that his hand is shaking.
 

“My lawyer said she was sick. But I didn’t realize it was cancer. I didn’t realize.” He wheels himself over to the window and looks out. In profile he looks almost sad. It’s unsettling to see this display of emotion. I don’t think of him as being sad or regretful.
 

In my mind, I am always eight years old and he is a spoiled, middle-aged man on a perpetual hunt for youth and excitement. The man before me now, this broken shell of a man, is someone that I don’t know. His pain isn’t something I want to see because it’s so much easier to remember him as a bastard who walked out on his family than to see him as a man who regrets what he did.

“I apologize for forcing you into these meetings. But it was the only way that I could get you here.”

“But why? Why was it so important for you to see each of us? And why the weekly visits?”

He doesn’t meet my eyes. “I have my reasons.”

His evasiveness pisses me off. Again, it’s him pushing us around and structuring things to his perspective. He couldn’t care less about how it affects me, Mom or Finn.
 

“I just wanted to see my children. I may have figured it out too late but you are my greatest accomplishments.”

Despite the heartfelt speech, I can sense that there’s a lot he isn’t telling me. There’s an ocean between us filled with half-truths and assumptions. It’s like yelling across a great distance trying to be heard. And I find I’m just too damned tired to even try anymore.
 

 
“Well, you can see me but that’s all. The papers said I had to show up. They didn’t say I had to make small talk.” I sit in one of the armchairs and glance at my watch.
 

Fifty-five minutes and counting …

After an uncomfortable hour staring at my shoes, I get up and leave. My father looks disappointed. I guess he thought that by forcing me to come here, that we’d eventually talk and make up. That an entire lifetime of him not being there could be erased with a pleasant afternoon.
 

I didn’t take my bike today and I wish I had. A hard and dirty ride is exactly what I need to purge this restless rage from my blood. My thoughts turn to Emma. She’s right, I know she is, that we need to keep our distance. But now I’m stuck in this endless limbo, wondering where she is and whether she’s okay. That way lies madness so I decide to just drive.
 

I end up at Finn’s place. His car is still in the same parking space. He must be leaving though since he’s agreed to the weekly visits with dear old dad as well.
 

“Finn? Hello?”

He appears to my left, coming from the hallway leading to the bedrooms. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Nothing. I just got back from seeing our father.”

“No wonder you look homicidal.”

I put my feet up on the coffee table. The television is on but the sound is muted. It’s one of those news commentary shows where people are always yelling at each other and trying to sound more knowledgeable about world events than they actually are.
 

“I met our brothers. That was interesting.” Finn sits on the couch next to me. He looks better. More alert. His eyes don’t have the bleary quality they get when he’s taking the pain pills.
 

“You did? When?”
 

“Right after you sent me the information. I drove over to their shop and we hung out for a minute. I would have gone with you that day if you’d told me.”

I shake my head. “I wasn’t sure if they’d be open to us. I was just feeling things out.”

“They were cool. I have to admit it was weird to see that one that looks like you. Gabe.”

I grunt in response. Finn narrows his eyes. “You’re not listening to anything I’m saying. Why are you really here?”
 

“I have no idea.”

“Where’s Emma?”
 

“Again. No idea. Why would I know that? I took her on one date. One awful date and a do-over where I had to share her with a college boy and a roomful of feral cats.”

Finn snorts. “You enjoyed it. And you even like that ugly ass cat you adopted to impress her. She’s good for you.”

“She’s not my girlfriend Finn. She’s not my anything.”

“And therein lies the problem. You’ve been different lately. In a good way. I don’t care what dumb ass excuse you’re using not to be with her right now but just forget it. Call her up.”

“She doesn’t want me. Not really.”

Finn gives me a disbelieving look. “Try telling that to someone who didn’t see the way she watched you at dinner. I don’t know how you two originally hooked up but she feels something for you. I’m not sure what, but it’s something. And that’s all you need.”

He scrubs his hands back and forth over his face. “I can tell you from experience that looking back and wondering if you did all that you could sucks. You know what happened with Rissa. I still wish I’d fought for her. Don’t do that to yourself. If things don’t work out between you, let it be her fault, not because you didn’t pursue it. At least then you’ll have the comfort of hating her.”

I’m stunned into silence. Finn doesn’t talk about the past or what happened with his former fiancée. He blotted her out of his life so completely that it’s almost like she never existed. This is the most I’ve ever heard him speak about it.
 

He raises bleak eyes to mine. “Call her.” Then he gets up and walks back to his room. I let myself out.
 

I walk down the street leading away from Finn’s place. Taking a drive would make more sense but I need the physical exertion. I want the burn of the cold air in my lungs when I breathe in. After I’ve walked for a little while, the neighborhood changes drastically. Graffiti pops up on random buildings and everything looks older. A man shuffles along pushing a shopping cart filled with old magazines and books. As I pass, he says “Change? Any change?”

I pat my pockets. “No, I honestly don’t. Sorry.”
 

He shuffles along with a disgruntled expression. I think about all the money sitting in my bank account now. I’m a freaking millionaire but I don’t even have twenty-five cents in my pocket.
 

I laugh out loud. There’s no one out here to see me laughing and talking to myself like a crazy person. Not that I should care. I have money. Isn’t that supposed to make me happy? It’s like I’m caught in a dream turned nightmare where on the surface I’ve been granted this amazing gift but it’s just a facade. Because beneath it all, I don’t have any of the things that really matter.

I’m not even sure how my phone ends up in my hand but suddenly I’m dialing Emma’s number and holding on to the piece of metal like it’s the only thing tethering me to the earth. Seeing her, hearing her voice is all I can think of. She’s the one true and honest thing in my life. The only thing untainted by all the negative emotions I carry around like a suitcase.