by Mysti Parker
“Holy shit,” Paige whispered.
Apart from Tanner’s, it was one face she’d hoped to never see again. She used to be Lisa Peters, and she used to be Paige’s best friend. That is, before she slept with her boyfriend. From the looks of it, Lisa, the blonde-haired, blue-eyed cheerleader with an hourglass figure, hadn't kept up appearances very well. She took up half the bench, and her roots were way past due for a touch up. What the hell was she doing back in Beach Pointe? Last Paige had heard, Lisa had moved to Florida and had become some hotel tycoon’s trophy wife.
Lisa didn’t seem to notice Paige, or maybe she was just ignoring her. For a moment, Paige considered scooping up Ty and leaving. No sense digging up bones that best lay buried in the past. But then Lisa sneered at Ty before returning to whatever had her mesmerized on her phone. Paige would have been content to let bygones be bygones and simply walk away had it not been for that dirty look she'd given her son.
Paige took a sip of coffee and decided to scratch at the scab of old wounds. "Lovely weather, isn’t it?"
Lisa gradually pulled her eyes away from the device and blinked at Paige as though surprised someone had the gall to engage in conversation during her morning Facebook session. Then her sour face turned to one of mild panic.
“Paige? Wh-what are you doing here?”
“I live here. What’s your excuse?”
“Just visiting my mom. She’s not well.”
Paige nodded toward the girls. “They yours?”
“God, no. I’m not having kids. They’re my nieces.” She sat up straight and stuck her chest out as though emphasizing how much she didn’t want to ruin her figure. Then she looked at Ty with one eyebrow arched and slid her gaze back to Paige. “So, how old is he?”
Damn it. She hadn’t prepared for a situation like this. Lisa was supposed to be in Florida, gone, forgotten, out of sight, out of mind.
Paige swallowed and decided to be as honest as she could. “He’s five.”
“Five,” Lisa repeated. “Really? When did you get married?”
“I didn’t.”
“He looks like you. Does he take after his dad at all? I can’t really tell.”
Paige knew exactly what Lisa was implying. She just smiled at Ty and shook her head. “Not really.”
Lisa shrugged and stared at her phone again as if she had become bored with the whole conversation. As if what had happened back then was nothing, no apology necessary. Clearly she hadn’t matured enough to care.
In the sandbox, one of the girls asked Tyler, "Hey, do you want to play with us?"
Tyler didn't answer. He rarely interacted with strangers. Paige kept quiet, waiting to see if he would take a chance and play with them. He'd already crossed a big hurdle with simply getting in the sandbox.
The other girl shrugged and kept burying her Barbie in the sand. The girl who asked him to play leaned toward her sister and whispered, which like most kids wasn't a whisper at all, "Maybe he's deaf or stupid." Then she had the nerve to toss some sand at Ty and added, "Hey, stupid, why can't you play with us?"
Ty went very still. He stared wide-eyed at the truck in his hand.
Paige's jaw dropped. Heat exploded across her cheeks. Lisa was staring at her phone again, acting like she hadn't heard her niece's cruel jab. Paige got up and crouched by the sandbox, staring right at the little troublemaker.
It took a lot of willpower to keep her voice calm and even. "That wasn't very nice. I think you need to apologize."
The girl shrank back before hopping out of the sandbox. She headed for the jungle gym with her sister on her heels.
"Excuse me?" Lisa was sitting up at attention now, still clutching her phone. "What did you say to her?"
Ty slowly climbed out of the sandbox with his trucks and went over to the swing set, where he stood quietly, hugging one of the support posts.
Paige stood, brushing her sweaty palms across her pants. "Your niece called my son stupid. I asked her to apologize."
"That's not your job," Lisa snipped, grabbing up her purse.
"Well, you sure as hell weren't doing yours."
Lisa glared daggers at her and stomped off toward the girls, muttering just loud enough for Paige to hear, "Bitch."
Oh, hell no.
"Fat ass!" Paige screamed.
That made Lisa pause for a second, during which she sucked in her gut and tightened her butt cheeks. "Come on, girls," she spat, dragging them off the jungle gym, much to their loud protests.
A laughing voice rang out behind Paige. "You sure told her!"
Startled, Paige almost dropped her coffee as she spun around to see Tanner there, smiling. He was pushing a baby stroller containing his sleeping niece, with his sister Linda beside him. Linda laughed and came up to Paige, then hugged her.
"Who was that?” Linda asked. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." She tried to focus on Linda, but her eyes kept drifting to Tanner. He wore a worried look, too. Did he recognize Lisa? Had he seen Ty? What was she supposed to say to him? A simple morning at the park had turned into a nightmare.
"Where's Ty?" Linda asked. "Is he okay?"
Tanner leveled his steady gaze at Paige, as though waiting for a long overdue explanation.
"He's..." She didn't see him by the swing set where he'd been standing. She hurried over, trying not to worry. He'd probably crawled up the tube slide. She bent and looked up the shadowed tunnel, which had grown warmer as the sun climbed higher in the sky. He wasn't there.
He wasn't at the jungle gym, or behind the big oak tree that shaded it. She craned her neck up, tiptoed and scanned the branches, but saw no sign of him there either.
"Tyler! Ty? Where are you?" Panic set in, squeezing her lungs until her breathing turned rapid and loud like she'd just run a marathon. She spun around, her back against the tree, fingers digging painfully into the rough bark.
Tanner was beside her in an instant with a firm, yet reassuring grip on her upper arms. "Hey, deep breaths, okay? We'll help you look. Is there anywhere else he likes to hide in the park?"
His presence and the gentle pressure of his touch helped her breathe and descend from panic mode. But questions still poured from his eyes, ones she wasn’t prepared to answer.
Paige blinked at the ground and wracked her brain, pushing aside worst-case scenario thoughts. "He loves the playground and the sandbox, but...the creek! He watches the tadpoles and minnows."
"Go!" Linda urged, pushing Tanner's arm. "I'll stay here with Clara and search the parking lot."
Paige took off in a mad dash toward the creek with Tanner on her heels. Miner’s Creek ran through the middle of the park and was a popular place for the locals to wade and splash when the summer heat became oppressive. This early in the spring, though, it would be mostly deserted, and with the rain they'd had, it was also likely to be overflowing.
Paige skidded to a stop on the muddy bank with Tanner right beside her. The water wasn't that high, but it rushed along its course with an angry roar. Silt clouded the usually clear stream into a dull gray-brown. She didn't spot him along the bank or on the opposite one.
"Ty!" she called, straining her ears over the rushing water.
A tiny cry answered, "Mom!" It came from a couple yards away. Paige ran toward the sound, where the bank rose higher. He wasn't in any of the trees. She peered over the side.
"Oh my God," she whispered, hand over her mouth.
Tyler dangled with both hands wrapped tight on a rock that jutted out over the water. His feet were submerged, fighting limply against the current. If he slipped, he could be swept away, and it was impossible to tell if the water was deep there.
She immediately dropped to her belly and reached for him. He was close—maybe she could grab him before he fell. "Ty, can you grab my hand?"
He looked down to the water and back up at her with so much fear in his eyes, it brought tears to hers. He tried to reach with one hand, but he was too far from her, much farther than he first appea
red.
Tanner whipped off his woven leather belt and buckled it tight around a sturdy sapling. Holding the belt with one hand, he slipped himself over the side of the bank. Paige held her breath, ready to jump in the water if Ty slipped.
"Hang on, Ty! Help is coming," she said, struggling to smile and sound encouraging so he wouldn't panic and let go.
Tanner climbed down with expert precision, finding footholds that allowed him to reach Ty in seconds, but he had reached the end of the belt. The sapling shook from his effort, bending dangerously as though it might break loose at any moment. Paige wrapped her arms around it, supporting it as much as she could.
Tanner extended his arm, but couldn’t quite reach him. "Grab my hand."
Ty stared wide-eyed at Tanner. He rarely let strangers touch him, even under the best of circumstances. He started crying. His little fingers slipped a fraction of an inch. Paige kicked off her shoes. She'd have to jump in and hope they wouldn't both be swept away.
"It's okay, buddy," Tanner said, his voice calm and assuring. "I'm a soldier, a helper. Grab my hand. Your mom's right up there."
Paige was about to fling herself in the water when Ty blinked a few times, then said with a tiny voice, "Thirty-three?"
"Yeah, buddy, thirty-three. Take my hand."
Ty let go of the rock with one hand and reached up, close enough for Tanner to get a firm hold on his arm. In one sweeping movement, Tanner pulled Ty up and held him tightly against his side. Tendons strained in his neck from the effort as he climbed back up, now supporting his and Tyler's weight. With Paige supporting the sapling again, she waited until they had breached the top of the bank. Then she let go and crouching, held her arms out. Ty scrambled out of Tanner's grip and wrapped himself around her like a desperate koala cub. She fell back and crab-scooted them away from the water. Tanner climbed back out. Sweat ran down his face. Mud streaked his shirt and coated his jeans.
He crawled over and collapsed on his back beside them. "Is the little man okay?"
Paige nodded. Then she noticed something through the mud on his shirt. It wasn't just a shirt, but a red Chicago Bulls T-shirt, and smack dab in the middle of it in big black lettering was the number thirty-three.
"How did you know?" she whispered in Tyler's ear, but that's all she could say before she broke down in sobs, holding her son tight to her heart. She'd come too close to losing the one person she cherished most in this world, saved by the one man she once hated most.
She ventured a glance at Tanner.
He sat up, eyes fixed on Tyler, before meeting her gaze.
"We need to talk," she said.
Chapter Eleven
Ever since he got a reconciliatory text the night before from Morgan, Garrett could finally breathe again. I'm sorry for what I said, she had written, I know it's not your fault that your brother is an asshole. I'm still up for a date if you are. He had been up since the crack of dawn, not able to sleep, thanks to his nervousness and Dad’s peace-shattering snoring. He’d given up, showered, and headed to the shop. Time flew as he prepared everything. He glanced at the clock. Their date started in just an hour, so he had to hurry if he wanted to make it worthwhile.
He locked up the shop and got in the Jeep he'd borrowed from Tanner for the day. Hopefully, he could buy his own vehicle soon. If things progressed in a positive direction with Morgan, he needed more than a borrowed Jeep. Being the modern woman that she was, Morgan had offered to drive, but Garrett still held on to some of the old-fashioned notions his parents had drilled into them. The guy picks up the girl, not the other way around. The same rule applied to phone calls and opening doors. Pulling out your lady's seat was optional, according to his mom. This stemmed, he suspected, from the “incident” of 1980, when Dad got a little overzealous when Mom stood up from her seat during dinner. He had run over and pulled it out from under her, when she had only intended to straighten out her skirt. She had landed butt-first right on the floor of the crowded restaurant. Ever since, she'd never let Dad touch her chair.
But chairs aside, Garrett was determined to be a gentleman, even if he'd been consumed with the imprint of Morgan's kiss and fantasizing about her lips on various other regions of his body since last weekend. He turned the key in the ignition, smiling so much his cheeks started to hurt, and tried not to stomp the gas in his excitement. After a stop at the grocery's floral department, he headed for Morgan's place.
Ten minutes later, he pulled up, turned off the Jeep, and gathered the fresh peach-colored roses from the passenger seat. He'd read somewhere that peach roses symbolized appreciation, and if anything, he was grateful that Morgan hadn't told him to go suck an egg yesterday.
He climbed out of the Jeep, trying to still his nerves with a few deep breaths. Why did he feel so anxious? All he had to do was go up the stairwell, knock on her door, and say hello. With determined strides, he went for the stairs, only to find Morgan bounding down them with a big grin on her face. His breath caught at the sight of her. His mouth watered—she looked delectable in her simple black tank top with a pink plaid blouse over it, hanging open with the sleeves rolled up. A pair of denim capris melted over every curve of her hips and muscular legs as though they were made just for her. Pink tennis shoes with glittery laces finished her outfit. The pink part of her hair was up in a high ponytail, swinging side to side as she approached. The whole ensemble was pure Morgan.
Shoot—he hadn't planned for her to come down first. She must have been watching for him. Garrett stood straight and tall, holding the flowers to his chest like a shield. Okay, so all he had to do was offer them, put out his arm, and escort her to the Jeep. Simple enough.
He cleared his throat. "Hey, these—"
"Oh my gosh, are those for me? You are so sweet!" Morgan bounded up to him, snatched the roses, and gave them a deep sniff. Then she pecked him on the cheek, turned on her heel, and headed straight for the Jeep.
He stood for a second, arm still bent with no one to take it. At least he could open the Jeep door for her. So, he rushed over, but she opened it, hopped in, and closed the door just as he reached for the handle.
"I'm so excited," she said through the open window while bouncing in her seat. "Where are we going? The suspense is killing me!"
Scratching his chin, Garrett tried to think of what to do next. This whole routine had been etched in his mind since yesterday, and her incredible cuteness made it very difficult for his brain to come up with Plan B.
Morgan tilted her head, her brow wrinkling just a bit. "You okay? Are we going or not?"
"Uh, yeah." He snapped out of it enough to nod and walk around to the driver's side. Every drop of moisture in his mouth had evaporated, so he licked his lips and swallowed, hoping he wouldn't sound like a frog when he could finally manage intelligent conversation.
Morgan kept staring at him as he climbed in. "You sure you're okay? I can get you a ginger ale or something."
"F-fine." He'd never expected to be so jittery. Garrett started up the Jeep, then put his hand on the gearshift. He had only drunk one cup of coffee. Or was it two? Had he turned off the coffee pot? Had he even locked up the shop?
He flinched at Morgan's gentle touch on his shoulder.
She laughed softly. "If it makes you feel any better, I hardly slept last night, either. We'll be okay. It's just a date, right? It's not like we're eloping."
"Yeah, right. Just a date." He focused on the steering wheel, trying to remember how to drive. Foot on clutch, shift to reverse...
A horrendous growl from Morgan's stomach brought his anxiety down a notch or two. She giggled, holding her abdomen with both hands.
"I really hope this date involves food," she said. "I totally forgot to eat."
Food—now that, he knew! That, he had prepared for. Nodding enthusiastically, Garrett reassured her, "Don't worry. I have it covered."
Once they finally got on the road, Garrett kept their speed at Sunday-driver slow. He didn't want to rush this. They left the windows open
to enjoy the great weather before winter inevitably took one last cheap shot at spring's arrival. Morgan chatted, while Garrett simply smiled and listened. To be honest, he didn't catch everything she said. Every time he glanced at her, he discovered another little gem—the way her hair whipped gently in the wind, how her slender, blue-polished fingers swept it from her face, how the sun sparkled off the golden highlights and kissed the peach-toned skin at the nape of her neck.
Ten minutes later, they pulled up to Mann Cakes. With a slight smile, Morgan's quizzical gaze shifted from the shop to Garrett. "What have you got up your sleeve?"
He didn't answer, but jumped out and started around the Jeep in a last-ditch effort to open the door for her. But, once again, she beat him to it and was climbing out before he got the chance.
Morgan sniffed the air, eyes wide and sparkling. "Oh, it already smells heavenly."
She bolted for the shop, but Garrett grabbed her by the hand. "Oh no, you don't."
Her pretty lips puckered into a pout. "Why not? I'm hungry!"
Garrett shook his head and laughed. "I've tried to be a gentleman, and you are determined to keep me from it."
"Huh?" She scrunched up her face, which also lifted the freckles on her cheeks and made her even more adorable.
He cleared his throat, brought her hand to his lips, and kissed her knuckles. "Would you be so kind as to let me open a door for you? Just once. It'll make me feel better."
"Oh!" Morgan's eyes widened as his predicament finally soaked in. Then she cracked up laughing and pulled him into a tight hug. "Why didn't you say so?"
He sighed and chuckled, enjoying the feel of her warm body pressed against his. "Well, now that we're on the same page, let's have lunch."
"I'd love to," Morgan said, sliding her arm into his.
They went to the door of the shop, and Garrett unlocked it, throwing a leery glance at Morgan as the lock turned over.
She giggled. "You do the honors, by all means."
