by T. K. Rapp
But if Tabor was really going to meet my family, I needed to prepare them. Anticipating their disbelief, I had come prepared. Luckily, Tabor had obliged, and I was glad to have the picture. He said that he abhorred “selfies,” but willingly gave in when I explained.
“Dad—who is this?” I asked, handing him my phone.
He glanced at the screen and gave it back to me before looking at the kitchen television. I waited for recognition to hit him, and when it did, I didn’t bother stifling my laughter. He turned to face me and looked at the device in my hand and back to me.
“Why do you have a picture with JT Hunter?”
“His name is Tabor,” I answered.
“That’s JT Hunter,” he repeated, more for himself than for me.
“Yes.”
“And you,” he added, as if I didn’t know.
“Yes.”
“Dani…why are you with JT Hunter?”
“We’re sort of friends,” I answered with a small smile.
Dad snatched the phone from my hand and studied the image, and looked at me again in disbelief. Mom walked over to look at the picture too and grinned her approval.
“You….and…him. JT Hunter?” he questioned.
“Me. And Tabor,” I corrected. “Look, he’s just a regular guy,” I regurgitated the lines my friends had spewed while trying to convince me to date Tabor.
“You’re dating JT Hunter,” he clarified. “My daughter is dating JT Hunter? But…how?”
“We’re friends, Dad. Just friends,” I defended. Admitting the truth out loud was like a punch to the gut and I hated it.
I began by telling Dad the true story of the flat tire.
“He was the stranger you mentioned?” he asked with a confused look.
“You knew about this?” Mom asked him, but he shook his head and she looked at me for answers.
“I didn’t know who he was. He pulled over to help me and asked me out on a date. He was so nice and I just gave him my number,” I admitted.
Mom’s dreamy look likely matched my own, but then again, Dad looked like he might have a bigger crush on Tabor than I did. He sat back in his chair, winded, looking like he’d run a triathlon.
“Are you okay?” I finally asked.
“I always knew he was good guy,” Dad beamed. “And now my daughter is dating him?”
“Friends,” I repeated. I knew it was something I was going to remind him of again and again, and every time I did, it was going to sting a little. I looked up to the ceiling, bracing myself for the next hurdle. I took a deep, steadying breath and bit my lip before speaking.
“Which brings me back to your question about why I’m here. I…sort of invited him over for dinner tomorrow night,” I admitted.
Mom’s back went rigid and I knew she’d heard me. It was only a matter of time until she lost her mind and ran around frantically.
“JT Hunter is coming here?” Dad asked. “Dani, if you’re joking with me, I might die of a broken heart.”
“Mom. Dad. I’m serious, you have to treat him like any other guy,” I demanded. “Tabor is really sweet and we’re still getting to know each other. I just need you to be cool. Can you do that?”
The kitchen faucet was running, but Mom hadn’t moved since I’d mentioned Tabor being a guest. I walked over and shut the water off for her and leaned my back against the counter to see her face.
“You okay?” I asked, taking in her shocked state. Mom was always prepared and readily opened the home to anyone and everyone, but I knew I’d thrown her for a loop. “Mom?”
“Tomorrow?” she finally asked as she turned to face me. “You’re bringing him here tomorrow and I’m just finding out about this now?”
I wrapped an arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze as I kissed her cheek.
“If it makes you feel any better, it was his idea. Not mine.”
She turned to face me and crossed her arms over her chest. I knew that stance. It was the interrogator coming out, and as much as I wished I were prepared for the inquisition, there was never really a way to prepare.
“You’re telling me you just met him the other day?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re already bringing him over to meet your family?”
“Yes. But honestly, I think he’s sort of homesick or something.”
“What’s really going on between you two?” she asked, concern lacing her tone. She reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze. “You like him, don’t you?”
“He’s a nice guy,” I answered nonchalantly. “We’re friends.”
“If you say ‘friends’ one more time, maybe I’ll believe you.” She smirked.
“We had a date and we really hit it off, but I can’t be that girl,” I said, thinking about that evening. I walked around the counter and sat on the barstool across from my mom and waited. I knew it was coming—the motherly advice.
“I guess I’m confused,” she said, resting her forearms on the counter. “You can’t be that girl that meets a nice man? You can’t be that girl who gets to know him? Or you can’t be that girl who discovers that he might be the one?”
“Are you crazy?” I scoffed and leaned back in my seat. “I just met the guy, like a week ago. Don’t go marrying me off just yet.”
“At your pace, you’re never getting down the aisle, because you won’t open the damn door. That’s a great way to meet someone, Dani.”
My temper was beginning to flare, but I knew she was just being Mom. She always had my best interests at heart, but she didn’t know what it was like. I had barely experienced the Tabor Circus, and it was crazy enough. If I could just date Tabor, the guy who changed my tire, sure—it would be a no-brainer. But he’d said so himself: he couldn’t separate the two.
“Is it okay if he comes with me tomorrow night?” I asked. “Or should I tell him that someone’s sick?”
“Neil, are you sick?”
“Nope,” he answered quickly. “Are you sick, honey?”
“Can’t say I am.” She grinned at my dad.
I rolled my eyes and smiled. “You just want to meet JT Hunter.”
I stood up to grab my things so I could get home. I had things I needed to take care of, and mentally preparing to bring Tabor around my family was one of them.
“No,” Dad spoke up, his eyes still trained on the TV. “We want to meet this Tabor person who seems to have you acting like a scared little girl.”
“Goodnight,” I called out, ignoring his comment, though it hit a little closer to the truth than I let on.
The entire drive home, I kept thinking about Tabor and the way he’d looked at me when I’d told him I could only offer him friendship. It was possibly the worst lie I’d ever told, and I sold it with such conviction that he didn’t seem to notice.
The rest of the afternoon with Tabor had been spent taking inventory of what we had, and making a wish list of what we needed. It had been on the tip of my tongue to say something, but I hadn’t. And the few times that his arm brushed against mine while we were working, all I’d wanted to do was take it back and kiss him. At one point, I could feel his eyes on me while he was standing near the door, but I’d refused to look at him because the moment I had, I would have lost all my resolve.
He had been so patient and sweet while we worked tirelessly for two hours. When it was time to put everything away, we’d looked at the list…the very long list. Tabor wrapped one arm around my shoulder in a friendly embrace and given me a squeeze. I leaned my head into his chest and closed my eyes as I breathed him in.
Before I knew it, I was pulling into my driveway and wondering how I’d gotten there. Thanks to my Tabor-induced daydream, I was filled with regret once again, and eager to see him the next night. I pulled out my phone and sent him a text.
Me: Dinner at 6. Still on?
He didn’t respond right away, so I gathered my things and went inside to change my clothes. I was in the middle of washing my face when a text came
through, and I was happy to see it was him.
Tabor: Yes. I’ll pick you up at 5:30.
Me: I’ll pick you up.
I almost added a smiley face, but I didn’t want to be too flirtatious.
Tabor: You don’t know where I live
Me: Then I guess you need to give me your address.
Tabor: 1701 Greenbriar Ave
I set my phone down and finished getting ready for bed. When I was finally able to settle in for the night, exhaustion took over and I tried to succumb to it. But as soon as my eyes closed, Tabor was all I could see, and I wanted so much for my reality to be different.
Tabor: I was hoping to see you today
I was grinning like a teenager at his text.
Me: Oh yeah? Why?
Tabor: Dani…I thought you said you don’t fish.
Me: Touché
Tabor: J/K
Me: Are you flirting with me?
Tabor: When have I NOT flirted with you?
Me: Can I ask you a question?
Tabor: Should I call?
Me: Okay
I answered the phone on the first ring and found myself adjusting my clothes as if he could see me. He made me nervous in the best possible way, and yet it terrified me.
“So what do you want to ask me?” he said, his deep voice making me turn to mush.
“I’ve been thinking about this dating stuff,” I admitted.
“And…”
“How does that whole thing work out? I mean, if we’re trying to keep it secret and all, does that just mean lots of quiet nights in, just the two of us? I mean, we can’t really go anywhere because people know you everywhere,” I admitted.
“Do they?” Tabor challenged good-naturedly.
“Tabor, I was at the grocery store last night and wherever I looked, you were there,” I laughed. “How did I not notice those ads before?”
His response was so perfect that I found it hard not to cave right then and there. “Because you weren’t looking for JT Hunter.”
I smiled and leaned against my headboard. What he said was the truth. Plain and simple. “I guess you’re right.”
“I know you’re apprehensive about whatever this could be between us, but I’m not.”
“How are you so sure?” I asked. “What makes you think I’m worth the effort?”
“What makes you think you’re not?” he lobbed back.
“I think I might like you, Tabor,” I said, despite my efforts to keep the word vomit from escaping.
“Good,” he answered.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said quietly, embarrassed at my earlier admission.
“Looking forward to it,” he said. I began to hang up the phone when I heard him call my name.
“Yeah?” I asked.
“Can you send me that picture of us?”
I began laughing, because it was like pulling teeth to get him to take it in the first place. But I liked that he wanted it too, because when I looked at it, I couldn’t help but smile.
“I think you like me, too,” I teased.
“I thought that was pretty obvious,” he answered without skipping a beat. “Goodnight, Dani.”
“Goodnight,” I said before hanging up.
I found the image of the two of us and sent it over, but kept staring at it with a smile on my face. I took the opportunity to really look at him and admire his physique. It was obvious that he worked out—hell, he was a football player. Even though his size was intimidating, he was nothing more than a teddy bear. I closed the image and was about to set my phone on the nightstand when it buzzed, alerting me to a text.
Tabor: Cute couple ;)
C h a p t e r 12
D A N I
The entire day, all I could think about was the evening ahead.
That and Tabor’s use of the word “couple” to describe us. I hadn’t committed to that title, or even dating, though I felt like I was close to caving. But those were put on the back burner to the questions plaguing me.
Are my parents going to act weird?
What are the chances they embarrass me?
Will Tabor behave?
I knew the answer to at least two of those questions, but the last one, I just needed to see how it played out. I texted my mom and told her we might be a little late because I wasn’t sure where Tabor’s house was. Since he was a famous athlete, I figured it would have been in a gated community with armed guards and the promise to give up your firstborn. At least that’s the way everyone made it sound.
But as I turned down his street, I was pleasantly surprised. Modest but lovely homes lined both sides of the street, with trees all over the place. It was almost too picturesque, with dads playing catch with their kids in the lawn while other children ran between yards. I smiled, remembering my own childhood when Grace and I would run wildly all over the neighborhood.
My phone speaking directions dragged me back to the present. “The destination is on your right. 1701 Greenbriar Avenue.”
I looked for the house and noticed a large home set back away from the street. It was a sprawling landscape with huge trees and modest gardens. I wondered if Tabor actually maintained them himself, or if he had a crew. Knowing who he was, it was hard to picture the man gardening, or pushing a lawn mower around. Not because he didn’t seem the type to do it, but because he was larger than life in San Diego. Celebrities don’t attend to their own personal stuff.
At least that’s what I figured. But then again, Tabor, the athlete—the celebrity—had gotten dirty and changed my tire for me. So who was I to judge?
I pulled into the long driveway and leaned forward in my seat to take in the expanse of the home. It was larger than the home I grew up in, but not nearly as large as I thought people would assume he’d own.
I got out of my car and closed the door behind me. As I made my way up the sidewalk, butterflies began swimming in my stomach, causing me to exhale loudly to calm my nerves.
“Friends,” I muttered to myself over and over. If I said it enough, maybe I’d believe it.
I lifted my fist to knock on the door, only to have it open before I could even make a sound. In front of me stood an overdressed Tabor. He took in my worn, fitted jeans, white T-shirt, and Converse, quickly realizing his mistake.
“You better come in.” He grinned, stepping aside to let me pass.
He was wearing dress slacks and a button-down shirt, looking very much like he had on our date. He was very sexy, and would be very out of place dressed like that.
“Sorry,” I chuckled. “You look nice, but yeah, a little overdressed.”
“You think?” he said sarcastically.
“What made you think it was something to get dressed up for?”
“I don’t know,” he laughed, disappearing around the corner.
I stayed in the entry until he peeked around.
“C’mere.”
I followed his path and walked into a modern, beautiful kitchen.
“Nice digs,” I teased, waving my hand at the state-of-the-art appliances. “Do you actually use this or is it for looks?”
He looked around, and when his eyes met mine he flashed me that adorable grin of his and I returned it easily.
“When I was drafted, my mom and Abbi flew out to help me find a place to live. Actually, I was burned out on day one, so I gave them the reins and this is what they found.”
“You still didn’t answer the question.” I raised a brow.
“I didn’t realize you really wanted an answer,” he said. “But yeah, I’m actually a good cook.”
“Okay,” I said, throwing my hands up in surrender. “I believe you.”
I looked at the time on the oven and he followed my gaze. “I’ll just be a minute.” He walked around the corner and called out, “Make yourself at home. There’re drinks in the fridge, and the living room is across the hall.”
When he was gone, I stood in the room feeling oddly comfortable in his place. I went into the livin
g room, stepping onto the hardwood floors, and the first thing I noticed was how plain his walls were. Despite the few feminine touches, hopefully done by his mom and sister, the place screamed “bachelor pad.” I leaned against the wide threshold, taking it all in, when I heard him walking back.
His cargo shorts were hung low on his hips and he was in the middle of pulling the shirt on, giving me front row seats to the gun show. And the abs show. And the holy shit he’s ripped show.
I swallowed thickly, trying to avoid eye contact, but he’d already caught me looking. And if he didn’t, he’d know by the redness in my face.
“I like your…couch,” I said, pointing over my shoulder.
“Thanks.”
Tabor walked toward me and I stood up straighter and raised my chin. He was close enough that I could reach out and touch him, but far enough that I could still breathe. Just his proximity had my pulse racing. When he stepped closer, my breath hitched and I noticed that he clenched his jaw.
“You know…you could use, your walls…” He stepped closer and I stammered through the rest of the sentence. “…they’re plain.”
Tabor nodded, remaining quiet as he stepped closer.
“Just some pictures,” I whispered. “Or a clock.”
He lowered his face, his lips dangerously close to finding their destination, and I was torn. Our breaths mingled in the space between us and I felt my resolve deteriorating. In that moment, the battle was over and I was about to give in as his breath tickled my ear.
“So what did your parents say?” he asked as his lips grazed my earlobe.
“About?” I mumbled.
“Us.”
