“Can I please talk to you?” he asked, his gaze shifting from Journey’s stricken stare to Winston’s hand.
“You’re six months too late.” Looking away from him, she swallowed hard.
The silence was an awkward dance he despised. They used to make fun of guys like this. Sean had even turned his baseball gestures into a private language. A hand across the forehead meant they’d spill a drink on his shoe. A thumb against his chin and they’d call him by the wrong name all morning. Journey had even come up with one where she’d pretend her right arm had a spastic twitch that flailed around at inconspicuous times. Where did that person go?
“Lillian, Journey, so glad you could make it.” Beck’s friendly voice came with an arm across Tyler’s shoulder. Not one in affection, but a subtle tug that created several feet between him and Journey. “Mom’s about to cut the cake. She’d love to see you guys first.”
Looking much like a caged animal, Journey’s shoulders fell in grateful relief. “Thank you, Beck. We’ll go say hi.”
Tyler had no choice but to watch them walk away, Beck’s grip still tight on his arm. He shoved it off. “I had it under control.”
“Last time I saw that expression on your face, you cornered Chase Bennix after school and gave him a bloody lip.”
“Of course I did. He disrespected Journey.”
“I remember. Back then it was my job to defend her, not yours.”
“Like you even knew how to throw a punch,” he scoffed.
“If you recall, I didn’t need to resort to physical violence to make my point.”
Tyler couldn’t stop the grin that came. Beck never said what he did, but two days later, Chase dropped to his knees in front of Journey’s locker and gave such an eccentric and embarrassing apology that it haunted him all through high school.
He ran a hand down his face. “Fine. I see your point.”
“Good. Because I don’t even think you could get away with ruining this party.”
Beck smacked his back and strolled away, but Tyler didn’t miss the unveiled accusation in his tone. It needled under his skin, almost as much as Journey’s date. Beck had always been generous, with his friends, his belongings, his family. Never once had he implied he regretted the kindness.
Tyler watched his friend mingle easily with a group of Britani’s friends, the girls a bundle of giggles and squeals over his attention. Casual and relaxed, Beck showed no sign of animosity or hidden resentment. Tyler shook off his unease. Seeing Journey with a guy was messing with his head, making him question things that were as solid as steel.
“Good morning, Ty.”
A click of heels echoed closer and instinctively Tyler’s body stiffened. There were three things about April Duncan that never faltered—wearing stilettos the size of stilts, her loyalty to Journey, and her ability to make an already uncomfortable situation, unbearable.
He turned, feeling the same resentment he’d wrestled with since Sean left town. “April,” he said coolly. “I didn’t think you’d be here.”
“And miss the show?” A hint of amusement touched her lips and danced in her sharp green eyes. Not the kind you laughed with. The kind that taunted. “Not on your life.”
“You could have at least given me a heads up that she was bringing a date.” They weren’t exactly texting buddies, but April had been known to play interference, especially when it protected Journey.
“I could have… or you could’ve picked up the phone and avoided such a public reunion.”
He knew she was right, but he hadn’t known what to tell her or even what he actually felt. How could he promise to give Journey all she wanted, when he still didn’t know how to fix what was broken? The relationship had been terrible the last few months; it needed to end for both their sakes. Yet being separated wasn’t an option anymore, either.
“I didn’t know what to say,” he admitted.
April touched his arm, manicured fingernails sliding across his starched sleeve. If he didn’t know her better, he would have interpreted the gesture as compassion. But he did know her, so he shook off the touch.
“Ty. There’s a lot I’d really like to say to you right now.” She released a stream of air from her pursed lips. “But I’ll keep it to this: if you let her leave with that self-absorbed, moronic idiot today, I will personally make sure you never father a child.”
With perfume and judgment lingering in her wake, April crossed the room, pausing for only a breath when Beck and her exchanged a glance. His, open hostility. Hers, a smirk and an air kiss.
Tyler hurried forward. It was now his turn to play referee.
Chapter 4
Okay, she’d admit it. Bringing Winston here was a terrible idea. She’d been trying to be tough and brave, and Ty ruined it all by acting like the man she’d fallen in love with—attentive, affectionate, soft spoken. Now she was stuck with Winston when all she wanted was to pull Ty aside and ask why it took him so long to come back to her.
Journey slumped down in her chair, grateful for the one second she had to be alone. Winston had found a fellow car junkie to distract him and her mom was actively flirting with Dr. Haight whose wife was suspiciously absent today. That would likely turn out as pleasant as this fiasco with Winston. Well, at least she had someone to blame for her stupidity. She’d come by it naturally.
As if they’d all been summoned by a ringing bell, her friends descended on the table from every corner of the room. April, Andrew, Winston, Beck and… Ty. If the guy was trying to torture her, he was succeeding. She wanted to touch him, hold his hand, run fingers through his messy brown hair, take him in her arms and beg him never to leave her again.
She studied the round table, covered in pristine white linen. Each place setting, marked by polished silver and etched gold server plates, was adorned with crystal water glasses. The first time Beck had brought Ty, he’d stared at the silverware for a minute before Journey lifted hers subtly to show him which one to use. He’d scowled at her, never wanting anyone’s help, but she’d noticed him study her choices the rest of the morning.
He watched her like that now. His eyes fixed on even the tiniest of motions. Back then it had felt empowering. Now she wanted to blend into the walls.
“So how do all of you know each other?” The question came from Winston. He was too self-absorbed to care, so she knew he was fishing.
“Andrew and April are brother and sister,” Beck answered, taking the lead like he always did. Though today, Journey felt immeasurably grateful. “I’ve known them… forever. Can’t remember a time when our parents weren’t friends.” He aimed at her with his fork. “Journey, we met in Kindergarten. She picked her nose.”
“I did not!” she gasped, but a smile broke through the feigned outrage. Beck was doing what Sean used to do. Break up the tension when it spiked too high.
He winked at her. “Fine. She didn’t pick her nose. But she wore long ribbons and dresses, and had a doll named Margie. April and I found her fascinating because she cried if you touched her.”
“Marquette.” It was the first time Ty had spoken since they all sat down and the sound fell over her skin like a caress. “The doll. She still has her.”
His voice was exactly how she remembered it. Deep and masculine with a hint of lightheartedness. She’d spent hours listening to that voice on the phone. She knew each drawl, each hint of insecurity, and the pure tenderness in the way he’d said those words. The following smile was more beautiful than his voice had been. Warm, familiar, and so full of the old Ty that she felt a sob threaten to rise in her chest.
Winston cleared his throat. She’d completely forgotten he was there. “What about you, Tyler? What disgusting habit did you indulge in?”
Andrew choked on his coffee and wiped his mouth with a napkin. The rest of them shifted uncomfortably, while Journey wanted to crawl under the table. Winston couldn’t even insult with finesse.
“None that I’ll admit to,” Ty said smoothly. Whatever reaction
Winston was hoping to elicit, he didn’t get it.
“And what is your connection to everyone?” he pressed. “I don’t remember meeting you the last time I came with Journey.” He emphasized her name and wrapped his arm possessively around the back of her chair.
She glanced at April for some kind of help, but her friend only shrugged in a nonverbal, I told you so.
Again, Ty answered without a hint of irritation. He was good at that. Compartmentalizing his feelings while charming everyone in the room. “I transferred to Bentwood Junior High when I was fourteen. It took weeks before anyone talked to me. Then out of the blue, Beck decided I was cool enough to hang with his band of misfits.”
April let out a huff. “Please, you walked around school acting all uninterested and mysterious, barely talking to anyone. You knew Beck would take the bait eventually.”
“I didn’t take any bait,” Beck shot back. “Ty was new and didn’t know anyone.”
“So it was pity?” she countered.
Beck’s jaw twitched, and Journey kicked her best friend under the table. April was goading him for no reason except that she could.
Thankfully, Beck rose above the situation and said, “In case you need help remembering everyone, Winston. April is the one who drips cynicism from every word.”
As if his words were a compliment, April raised her Mimosa in a mock toast.
They’d sat at this same table most of their lives. Years ago, their parents had called it the “kiddie table.” Now a new generation of Bentwood brats were huddled on the opposite side of the dining room. Britani at the center. They laughed together, shared photos on their phones, and seemed to genuinely care about each other.
Oh, to turn back time.
Journey suddenly had no more capacity to pretend. Tears dangerously close to the surface, she tossed her napkin on the table and stood. “Excuse me,” was all she could choke out before fleeing.
Voices argued behind her but she couldn’t listen. Getting out of that dining room was as critical as breathing.
A hand gripped her elbow, slowing her down. She didn’t need to look to know it was Ty.
“Please don’t follow me,” she whispered.
“I don’t plan to.” His fingers slid from her elbow down her forearm, then laced through hers. In two strides he had taken the front position, no longer at her heels, but pulling her along behind him.
Ty led them away from the dining room through a pair of French doors that opened to an empty patio. The outdoor area was barely furnished with only a small table, and two white decorative iron chairs. White columns were interspersed with lush hanging plants while thin clouds stretched across the humid sky.
“Where are we?”
“Somewhere private. Don’t worry. April all but tackled your Car Prince when he attempted to go after you.” Ty smirked but she didn’t want his sarcasm. Not when he’d unceremoniously removed himself from her life.
When she didn’t return his smile, he stepped away, leaving three feet of unspoken hurt between them.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know I screwed all this up, but I couldn’t let you leave here today without explaining.” He wore the same black dress pants and a blue striped button up she’d seen on him at least thirty times. The way it clung to him now was different, more snug through the chest and arms. His muscles tight and solid in a way she hadn’t seen since college.
She focused on the ground, refusing to let herself go back to that time. They were happy then. A solid, functional couple. Not the walking disaster they’d become. “What is there to explain? I told you what I needed, and you left.”
“The worst decision I’ve ever made,” he said gently.
She brought herself to look up at him. Ty didn’t have Beck’s stunning good looks, or Sean’s solid athletic build. He didn’t wear the suits she loved or style his hair. But no one else could express the kind of tenderness he did with one stare. It wasn’t just the dark emotion in it, which never went away, it was the way he could look past the surface, down to her soul as if that part of her was more beautiful than the rest. That look had kept her holding on when every one of his actions contradicted the love he claimed to feel.
“I don’t know where we go from here, Ty.”
“I’m not asking for any promises right now. I just want one night with the two of us. Without Beck and April and all the drama beating us from the outside. Just you and me, being us. Seeing if it still works.”
“I don’t want you doing this because I brought Winston. We’re not, you know, together.”
He had the audacity to look amused. “The only influence that guy had this morning was how long it took me to get you alone.”
Heat rose in her cheeks and he gently touched the flushed skin. “You were right about me working too much. About pulling away.”
“Why did you?” Journey gripped his shirt, silently urging him to continue when he hesitated. Ty never talked about his feelings. He pushed through them.
“I guess I was hiding.”
“From what?”
“The truth that I was alone. The questions that haunted me after I found my father’s death certificate. They still do a little, but I’m trying to let it go.” A brief, heart-wrenching pause. “It’s cost me too much.” His hand moved to her hair, tunneled itself between the strands.
She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. “You never told me. After that night, you never spoke of it.”
His lips grazed her forehead. “It hurt, more than I could tolerate.”
Numbness settled through her bones. The secret she and Beck never discussed, never acknowledged ripped at her conscience and clawed at her throat.
I know who your grandfather is, Ty. He came to find you when you were sixteen.
She and Beck had made a promise never to tell Ty about that day. About the horrible, dangerous man who threatened to take him away. She’d been true to her word, but only because she’d thought Ty was better off, that he’d welcomed the change in his circumstances.
“I didn’t know how you felt.” They were the only words she could get out. Her only excuse for why she’d let him hurt in silence. “I’m so sorry, Ty. I didn’t know.”
“Shhhh.” He slid his hands to her shoulders, fitting her against him with extreme care.
She tucked her face into his shirt, inhaled the wonderful smell of the man she was destined to love forever. But what was love when secrets tore at its essence.
His fingers caressed the skin by her neck. “Will you give me tomorrow night, Journey? Let us see if we can start over?”
His touch was a guilty pleasure she shouldn’t allow herself to indulge in, not when it was about to be swept away. “Yes, I’ll come.” Maybe telling the secret wouldn’t end things. Maybe it would make them better. Allow them to be fully open and honest with each other.
The door clicked and both of them stiffened.
Please let it not be Winston, she thought, pulling out of Ty’s embrace. It wasn’t, but the alternative was hardly better.
“What a shocking turn of events. Ty is home less than twenty-four hours and here you two are, hiding in a corner.” April wore smug far too well. “Should I see Winston to his beloved car?”
“Absolutely.” Ty chuckled, sliding his hand back into hers. “Be sure to send him my regards while you’re at it.”
Afraid April would do just that, Journey detangled her fingers and rushed past her friend. “I’ll… take care of Winston. He’s not exactly used to being denied.”
Ty’s smile disappeared. “Go with her,” he said to April before his gaze narrowed on her again. “I don’t like how he touches you.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“She goes or I do.”
“Don’t go all Bruce Banner on us now.” April waved her hand. “I’ll make sure the little pip squeak doesn’t throw a tantrum.”
She swept back through the open doors, leaving Journey one more chance to look at Ty before she told him the one t
hing that could end them for good.
Chapter 5
Tyler stood on the bank of his new property, his right foot hitched on the corner of a boat dock so rotted neither he nor Beck dared to step out onto the planks. Lake Travis’ placid water barely shifted against the breeze. They hadn’t gotten a whole lot of rain this spring and the level was way down.
Beck turned in a three-sixty. “So this is it?”
Tyler had sent pictures when he was going through the loan process, but this was the first time Beck had seen the land close up. “Yep. This is it.” He smiled at his best friend who apparently couldn’t see the vision behind the neglected plot. The trailer behind them was condemned. Half the siding was on the ground, the skirt missing in chunks. Then there was the odor that oscillated between sewage and dead carcass.
“When do they start?”
“My general contractor is staging equipment this week. Said he should have the trailer demoed and the land cleared in a few days.”
“Good.” Beck slapped a mosquito on his exposed arm and rolled down his sleeves. They’d come straight from brunch and the disparity between their black dress shoes and the knee-level weeds was laughable. He shook at the leg of his pants. “I bet there are a million chiggers out here.”
“Probably.” And snakes and who knows what else Tyler would find as the contractor cleaned up the site. But it didn’t matter. The half-acre plot was the one thing he truly owned. Bought with hard work, endless hours and sacrifice. It was the one thing in his life that hadn’t been given to him out of pity and the one dream he’d never thought possible.
His own home. His own family. His own blood.
“I’m going to bring Journey out here tomorrow night.” He’d pictured the moment a hundred times. He’d take her out at sunset, show her where the house would go. Describe where he’d envision the kitchen, the bedroom, and finally, the art studio he wanted to build for her.
“Please tell me you’re not going to propose. Because that look on your face right now is all kind of rainbows and butterflies.”
Until I Knew Myself (Bentwood Book 1) Page 4
