by Tina Reber
Ryan rested his chin on my head. “Don’t start blaming yourself. They were adults who made their own paths. You had no influence over that.”
I took the paper out of my pocket, showing Ryan my original birth certificate. I left the official adoption papers back at my apartment with all of the letters. “According to the papers, my birth parents were both sixteen when I was born.” I wiped my face and blew out a cleansing breath, trying to pull myself together. “I remember my mom telling me that the reason I was an only child was that because I was so special, she only needed one. It’s always bothered me why I didn’t look like either of them.”
Ryan sighed and squeezed me with his arms. “Your mom and dad did a fantastic job caring for you.
There are plenty of people out there who are unfit parents. You said it yourself; they were just kids, Tar.
Probably scared shitless.”
“Joe went into the army after he got his GED. I was three or four, I guess. Sent me money in every letter, trying to do right by me. I just feel like I have so many questions now.”
He pulled me in tight. “You do what you have to to resolve this but remember, the people who raised you are your mom and dad.”
“They should have told me.”
His eyes narrowed, almost reprimanding me. “Why? What would you have gained from that knowledge?”
“I never had a chance to get to know the people who brought me into this world. I really think my
cousin Joe wanted to know me. My parents kept that all from me.”
Ryan swiped a thumb across my cheek, wiping away a tear. “Maybe they had their reasons. Look, I know you feel torn up. Anyone would. But your family kept you in the family. They are still all related to you by blood. I’ve seen pictures of you growing up and I can tell you that those two people who raised you adored you.”
As we walked back to the pub, I made the decision to find out what those reasons were.
I knew making this phone call would be difficult. My heart clenched when she answered the phone.
“Hi, Aunt Joan. It’s Taryn.” I was greeted with silence and for a moment I thought I’d need to tell her who I was again.
I heard her breath hitch and then she stuttered. “Taryn?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“Oh. Sorry, I’m a bit shocked. I never thought you’d call.”
There was no sense stalling. “I found a copy of my birth certificate, the original one.”
She gasped. “The original? You . . . you know?”
“Not everything. I do know that you’re my grandmother.”
She didn’t try to hide her tears, breaking down audibly in my ear. A few tears of my own dripped. Ryan walked by, pausing to kiss my forehead and drop off a box of tissues before giving me privacy again. I knew he was just around the corner listening. It gave me comfort to know that he was only a breath away.
My voice cracked. “Can I see you sometime?”
“Oh, sweetheart. I would love that.”
“Me, too. Can you tell me where my birth parents are?”
I let her cry for a few minutes. I knew this was hard on everyone. “I wanted to keep you,” she said ruefully. “Joey—he was just a kid—and my husband, Paul, had lost his job. Things were . . . this would not have been a good place for you. I . . . I need you to know that.”
I chewed on my thumbnail, holding my emotions in. “Why did you stop talking to my mom? You were sisters. You, you didn’t even come to her funeral. Was that because of me?”
“Oh, no, dear. Your mother and I . . . Things were strained between us before you were born. Please don’t . . . please don’t think that.”
I wiped my cheek, sensing she was lying. “Where are my birth parents?”
She sighed. “Joe has a family of his own now. He’s in California. Lake Tahoe.”
I found my head bobbing with understanding from her subtle tone, to let it be. “It’s been . . . It’s been a long time. I suppose he doesn’t need his skeletons to rise.”
She hemmed. “He has a lovely wife and two young girls. I’m worried it might be a shock for him. I’m not sure his wife knows he fathered a child at sixteen. It might not be something he wants to divulge.”
I swallowed back the tinge of rejection. “Okay. What about my birth mother? Kelcie Tremont?”
Aunt Joan sniffed. “Taryn, she, um . . . there was a car accident. She and Joey and you . . . It wasn’t his fault. Her parents had kicked her out of the house when she got pregnant and then they blamed him after the accident. You were barely six months old when it happened.”
It felt like a hot knife slid right into my heart. I had four parents who were all dead to me. How cruel is that?
“You look just like her. Just so you know. But you have Joey’s blue eyes.”
My lip trembled as I held back a sob. “Um, well, if . . . if you talk to Joe can you please tell him that I
know and I’d really like to get to know him? He can decide if he . . . if he wants to contact me. All this time I didn’t even get to know him as a cousin.”
Ryan stood behind me, placing comforting hands on my shoulders.
“I’ll tell him but I can’t make any promises. Your father, Dan, was very cruel to him, Taryn, cutting Joe off from all contact with you, even claiming that Joe was mentally unstable when he returned from the Gulf.”
“Was he?”
“Oh no. He had some post-traumatic stress but fortunately he wasn’t injured.”
“If you talk to him, can you please also tell him that I have all of his letters that he sent? I started reading them but it’s . . . it’s a lot right now. But I want him to know that I will read every one.”
“Oh, okay. I will.”
I gave her my cell number. “I’m going to be getting married soon. My fiancé and I haven’t really discussed the details yet but I’m . . . I’m very happy. He treats me like gold.”
Ryan kissed the top of my head.
“So it’s true?” she asked with renewed enthusiasm. “You and that famous young actor are engaged?”
I nodded, looking up into Ryan’s eyes. “Yes. And I’m madly in love with him.”
He kissed my hand and smiled.
“He ran into Mitchell’s Pub one afternoon avoiding an onslaught of fans and now—now he’s mine.”
Somehow just saying those words out loud to someone in my family made everything gel into place.
Those eyes, that devastatingly handsome smile, even with his crazy hair sticking up—he was all mine.
“Hey man! Good to see you!” Cory said exuberantly, shaking Ryan’s hand when we went down to the pub. I had to distract myself from the trauma of the day, and sitting in the apartment going slowly mad was not healthy.
I watched our new bartender/waitress, Kara, comfortably handle the crowd. She seemed like a really good fit. Cory’s roommate, Trevor, was carding people at the door. It was weird having people I barely knew working for me.
Ryan yanked his Mitchell’s Pub ball cap down on his brow and slipped onto a stool next to Mike, who was watching Marie as if someone might try to steal her.
“You still hear from Francesca?” Ryan asked Cory.
He opened a beer for Ryan. “Nah. She’s filming in Australia right now. We tried to hook up a few times but I can’t afford to fly around the globe while she’s doing her thing. She knows where I am if she changes her mind.”
I stepped behind the bar, hoping to feel as if I belonged there. I needed to belong somewhere. I tried to wait on a customer but Cory nudged me out of the way. Then I started to mix a drink but Marie told me she had it.
I stood next to Ryan, slightly dumbfounded. It was hard not to let the sadness of the day creep back in.
Not only was I questioning everything I’d been brought up to believe was true about my life, but now the only place that had marked my identity didn’t need me anymore.
“You okay?” he asked, concerned. He twisted around so I was between his thighs.
I shrugged, trying to spare him the depth of my sadness. I put a smile on my face instead. “I guess they don’t really need me to help.” I watched Marie and Cory taking care of customers, keeping the flow going.
The new waitress, Kara, was mixing drinks and tapping beer as well as hustling around waiting on customers. I truly wasn’t needed behind the bar at Mitchell’s Pub. Is it possible to be kicked out of your own life?
“Taryn, want to sit?” Mike asked, offering up his chair.
“No thanks. You just stay there.” I felt safe with Ryan wrapped around me. Mike was gazing at Marie, completely enraptured. “So I take it you and Marie made up?”
A sly grin appeared on his face and he nodded. “I took Ryan’s advice.”
I raised a brow, glad for the distraction. “And that was?”
Ryan laughed.
“Shut her up quick by kissing her before she has an opportunity to yell at me.”
I laughed. “And did it work?”
Marie glanced over and smiled devilishly.
“I sure as hell hope so,” Mike said with a chuckle.
Of course I had to find an excuse to get behind the bar and drill her for answers.
“So, did you do him?” I asked her privately, wondering if she took advantage of time and space when Ryan took me to the beach. I pretended to be occupied while watching the fangirls go berserk when they realized Ryan Christensen was sitting at the bar.
Marie twisted a cap off a bottle. She looked so damn guilty it was pathetic. “Not quite.” She shouldered past me, only to mutter on her return, “but I know where he’s sleeping tonight.”
The fangirl thing was amusing, watching them practically faint in Ryan’s presence. Ryan signed a few autographs and posed for a few quick cell phone pictures, but once he allowed it, it was like the floodgates opened up. Girls started lining up. Pete had just arrived and was sort of body-blocking Ryan while he sat at the bar, but a few of the brave ones still tried to get to him.
Ryan pushed his chair back enough to slip his arm around me when I came out from behind the bar to run defense. It felt strange hanging out like a patron while we listened to the band jamming on my small stage. Ryan and Pete were talking about ridiculously expensive sports cars when I noticed a familiar dirty-blonde slide his way to the bar a few feet away. Had Pete been at the door, he would not have gotten in.
My shoulders tensed, angry that I had to deal with more crap.
With a swipe of her arm Marie halted Cory from serving him. Mike was already on alert, sitting up, ready to push off the bar in a split second if necessary.
Ryan took notice. “What’s up?”
“Dunno,” Mike murmured, never taking his eyes off the situation.
I moved out from Ryan’s protective grasp when Thomas started to walk over toward us hesitantly, like a little boy about to get scolded.
“Hey,” he said, looking so damn sullen. “Came to see how you’re doing.”
“I’m okay. How are you?”
I didn’t need to hear Thomas’s reply to know exactly how bad he was doing. His lips and eyes scrunched together in tormented pain. It killed me to see him this way. “I can’t get the sounds and images out of my head. I don’t know what to do.” He straightened when Pete sidled up. Thomas held out a hand in warning. “Don’t start with me, Herman. I’m not in the mood.”
Ryan’s chest pressed into my back. His left forearm slid across my chest, his hand reaching the cap of my shoulder. I envisioned being spun and relocated out of his way quickly. Mike was at Ryan’s side in an instant.
Thomas twisted his frown into a look of loathing. Ryan had no idea that his grasp on me was a direct challenge to Thomas.
“Ah, the control freak movie star,” Thomas said with a sinister smile, focusing his eyes on Ryan’s protective hold on me.
“Ah, the cheating ex,” Ryan retorted, grasping me tighter. “Whatcha need?”
Thomas rolled his head on his neck. “Lost my sister, dude. Came to see how her friends were holding up.”
I gave them all a glare of warning. “Okay, enough. Before any of you get any bright ideas, this crap is not going down in my pub. You need to talk? We’ll all talk in the kitchen. You want to have a beer? Find a place to sit down.”
Ryan drew in an audible breath through his nose that meant I don’t fucking think so.
“Sorry for your loss, but I can tell you that I’m taking care of what’s mine, so you don’t need to worry about Taryn. And I know my man Mike here has Marie covered. I can appreciate your concern but it’s not your place anymore. So what else do you need here?”
Thomas grinned, welcoming the challenge like it was his birthday and he was getting just what he’d wished for. “He your spokesman now?” he asked me, pushing the situation. “I recall when you were with me you had your own opinions on everything.”
I stepped into his path, fully aware of his habit of turning his sadness into a fight. Fine. If it was a fight he was looking for to ease his misery, I’d finally deliver. “That’s because you left me to fend for myself all the time, not caring about my welfare.” Something over his shoulder caught my eye. That’s when I saw the first cell phone pointed our way. I turned back to Ryan, privately saying, “People are starting to take pictures of this.”
He ducked down and whispered in my ear. “Get rid of him—now—or I will.” He glared at Thomas. “I think it’s time you leave. There’s nothing here for you, man.”
Thomas’s anger became evident. His hands balling into fists didn’t go unnoticed, either. I knew he had come to talk to me and all he was getting was shit from guys he didn’t know.
Ryan moved me to his side so I was out of the way. Mike instantly took a step forward. Ryan’s eyes never left Thomas. “You feel the need to take a swing at me, do it. We can throw down if it makes you feel like a man.”
“Cocky son of a bitch,” Thomas spat out with disdain, smirking as if what Ryan had just said was funny. I’d seen him act like this before and I knew exactly how it would end.
Ryan stood his ground. “Whatever. I’ve taken and given plenty of punches. But I won’t be the one going to jail for aggravated assault tonight, I can tell you that.”
“Enough. Both of you,” I warned.
Thomas smirked again, ignoring me. “She’ll get tired of you controlling her eventually. And when she does, I’ll be right here to pick it all back up. You see, you may have this now, but I still have a part of her that you’ll never have. Even now, I know I still get to her.” Thomas leaned in closer. “And when you’re fucking her, know she’ll always be comparing you to me.”
Ryan’s body stiffened and I snapped, stepping back in between them before Ryan reacted to his taunt.
“Knock it off. You know, for a second, I pitied you. Now you’re just being an asshole. Get out of my pub.
Now!”
Mike moved in front of Ryan, squaring off to Thomas when it looked like he wasn’t planning to leave.
“Enough, dude.”
“Who the fuck are you?” Thomas sneered.
“Insurance,” Mike answered calmly.
“What are you going to do? Hit me?”
Mike was casual but oh so threatening. “If I have to. It’s my job to shut you down before you do something extremely stupid.”
Thomas looked at me. “Is he kidding?”
I knew Thomas knew how to fight but Mike had hand-to-hand combat training. There was no doubt who’d be the victor. “I’ve had people threaten to hurt me, Thomas. I suggest you don’t irritate my bodyguard.”
He gaped at me. “You have a bodyguard? Wow. You serious? Why?”
“Because I have what a lot of others wish they had.”
Ryan shifted slightly, silently acknowledging my words.
Thomas scoffed at me. “You’d risk your life for him?”
“Absolutely. There are always risks when you love someone.”
Ryan’s chin tipped up a bit more, standing taller and m
ore forbidding. He had my heart and I had his and there was no confusion there. I also had his back, knowing I would go after Thomas myself before I allowed him to get one step closer to Ryan.
“Huh. Well, when you get tired of all the people snapping your picture and shit, give me a call. Unless you’ve turned into a spoiled gold-digger, too . . .”
I was so livid, I shoved myself in front of Mike.
I felt Ryan’s arm cinch around my waist, moving me to his side and out of the way in one easy sweep.
“Get out!” I ordered around Ryan’s lunging body as Pete and Mike blocked him from making contact.
Ryan was spewing threats dotted with profanity while Pete body-blocked Thomas. As soon as Thomas turned toward the door, Ryan hauled me toward the kitchen and right up the stairs.
I wanted to rant, scream, throw stuff, maybe even throw up, but instead I watched Ryan to see what he was going to do.
“Where are your car keys?” he asked in a furious rush.
I pointed a shaky hand toward the key hook. He shoved them in his jeans pocket and then grasped me by my upper arms.
“Babe, focus. Help me pack an overnight bag for you. We’re getting out of here.”
“Where?” I asked in a daze, feeling as if I’d been peeled apart and slammed back together. I could barely stand, my legs felt so numb. My real birth certificate . . . lies . . . Thomas . . . Ryan riled. It was all too much. Too much.
He tossed his bag near the door and took me by the hand. “I don’t know, but we’ll know when we get there. We just need to go. Change of scenery.”
He tapped on his phone while fetching my small overnight bag from the shelf in the closet. “Andrea, hey, Ryan Christensen. I need a private, restful hotel off the radar within two hours of my home base in Rhode Island.”
Chapter 14
Weekend
“Whoever you called to book this needs a raise.”
Ryan opened the French doors to the private deck to let some fresh air in, stretching as he stepped toward the railing. We could see a few boats out on the water. their lights illuminating the darkness.
We ended up in Newport at a breathtaking inn on the coast. I could feel the stress lift as we were guided to an adorable private cottage decorated in soft hues with a wide, wooden plank floor. A wall of windows with billowy white curtains overlooked the ocean.
