Feet bare, she fell onto her couch and dreamed of the sweats she hadn’t bothered to change into yet. Maybe she’d just sleep here and forgo her soft, Egyptian cotton sheets.
A knock paused her drifting. She opened her eyes, forced her limbs to function while the soft tap became louder. Suddenly adrenaline awoke every one of her sleepy senses and she jumped to her feet. Heart pounding, she peeked through the peephole until her brain assured her trembling body that her fears were unwarranted.
Ty. Just Ty.
“Give me a minute.” She checked her reflection in the mirrored art piece by the dining table and groaned. Oh well, his fault for showing up unannounced. Fighting for calm, she unlocked the deadbolt and cracked opened the door. “Hey.”
In each hand was a takeout bag with Francos stamped on the front. He lifted them slightly. “Last I checked, you promised me dinner.”
“I don’t remember promising it tonight.”
“Well, I’m here. And it’s hot, and I bet your choice of dinner consists of left over pizza and cardboard.”
Unfortunately, he was right on both counts.
She stepped aside and quickly locked the door behind him. “How did you get past Chester? He’s supposed to notify me of guests.”
“Oh, well yeah, I guess technically he is. But most of us just wave at him while we pass. Bentwood isn’t exactly a cesspool of crime.”
That didn’t make her feel any better. The greatest threat she had was packaged in a beautiful, six-foot-two, wealthy, respectable male. Exactly the kind of guy no one would suspect.
Jeremiah is three-hundred and sixty miles away, she thought and chastised herself for overreacting.
Ty continued forward and set the bags on the counter. “The place looks great, by the way. You’d never know you just moved in.” A smile came soon after, but it wasn’t believable. The man looked as drained as she felt.
“Thanks.” She glanced around the now organized space. “I really am pleased with how it turned out.”
He pulled plates and silverware from the cabinets as if he’d lived there for years. Of course, he had put most of them away, so his familiarity was understandable, though still unnerving.
“I didn’t know what you liked, so I got it all.” He opened multiple Styrofoam boxes to reveal mixed fajita meat, vegetables and a vast array of toppings, and set them up buffet style.
“Ty?”
“Yeah?”
“Why are you here? I mean, I appreciate dinner and all, but we’re not really drop in buddies.” She wasn’t trying to be rude, but she also believed in caution and boundaries, especially with a man she’d known only twenty-four hours.
His brows lifted. “Would you buy that I was in the neighborhood?”
“No.” An awkward silence fell and Caroline chewed on the inside of her lip. She liked calm. She liked simple. Neither of those included Ty showing up at her door uninvited.
“Honestly, I don’t know why I came.” He ran a shaky hand through his hair. “Life feels lighter in here. Happy. And I didn’t want to be alone.”
Her muscles relaxed a little at the sorrow in his tone. “How come?”
“If I tell you, you’re going to think I’m nuts.”
“I kind of already do.”
He chuckled. “See, this is what I like about you, Caroline. No pretense.”
Well, that wasn’t exactly true, but he didn’t need to know it.
She waited, arms folded.
“You’re not going to let me off the hook, are you?”
“Nope.”
“Okay, but you asked for it.” Looking down, he swallowed hard. She heard a nervous tapping from his foot concealed behind the island. “I found out today that I have a brother. I met him when I was loading boxes from a deceased grandfather I only learned about a few days ago.”
Okay, that wasn’t what she expected. “Wow, Ty, that’s a big deal. How did—”
“My dad gave him up for adoption.” Reference to his brother caused a gentle play of emotions on his face, dismay turning to sorrow. “Listen, I know I’m pretty much a stranger, but you’re new here and I’m starting over, too. I just thought maybe it might be nice to have a friend.” His voice shook a little and compassion pushed through her discomfort. She of all people knew the ache of being isolated and lonely.
“Having a friend would be nice.” Forearms on the table, she leaned over and smelled the sizzling steak and chicken. “Especially one that brings me food. I’m starved.”
A relieved grin crossed his face. “See, you and me. We’re pros already.”
Caroline pulled a warm tortilla out of the bag and filled it with her choices. “So what do you know about him?”
He loaded his own plate, putting more guacamole and sour cream on his tortilla than all other ingredients. “Not much yet. I gave him my contact information. I’m hoping he calls.” They walked in tandem to the small kitchen table and sat.
“And if he doesn’t?”
“Then I’m right back where I started.”
“That’s one way to look at it, I guess.” She picked up her fajita and took a bite.
Ty did as well, polishing off half the fajita in one gulp.
She tossed him a napkin and grinned at the spot of salsa on his chin. Wiping it away he nodded toward her clothes. “You’re in your suit. I thought you were taking the day off.”
“I was going to, but then you helped me get so much done, I felt guilty taking the time off when I didn’t really need it.”
“Oh no. You did it. You drank the Kool-Aid.”
She kicked him under the table. “I did not.”
“I’m telling you. That place is the phantom zone. There is no sense of time. One day, you wake up and your life is gone.”
She took a sip from her tea. “Now you’re trying to scare me.”
“Just calling it like it is. Beck once got sucked in for three days. I had to come with oxygen and a crowbar to get him out of his desk chair.”
She laughed at the visual. “You should have put it on YouTube.”
“Oh, I did.” His smile was devilish. “However, out of respect for workaholics everywhere, I took it down.”
“That was big of you.”
Hearing Ty talk about Beckham Kinder like he was just a normal guy brought a whole new dimension to her boss’s son. The girls in the office practically unbuttoned their shirts when he came around, but she didn’t get the appeal. He was handsome, yes, so much so that it made her snicker at first because the whole package just seemed unfair to the common man. But Beckham was all image and not a whole lot of depth. At least not any that he’d taken the time to show her.
“So have you done any exploring, taken in the sights of our capital?” Tyler had finished eating and pushed his plate aside. He looked significantly more relaxed than when he’d first arrived.
“A little. I went to the LBJ Library, and the graffiti park, which was really cool by the way. Oh, and I heard there’s an art festival in a few weeks. Have you been?”
“Every year.” She waited for him to elaborate but he fell silent.
Over the last couple of years, she’d become acutely aware of tension, the crackling feel of it against her skin, the pounding aura of silence that felt alarmingly like a scream.
She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “Are you finished?”
“Yeah.” He popped up as if shaking himself out of a dream. “I’ll clean up.” Ty packed up the leftovers and stacked them in her empty fridge. “You still haven’t gone shopping?”
“No. I was going to run by the grocery store after work, but by the time I passed the parking lot, I had no energy to go in.” She fell back on the couch, her full belly making her more tired than before. “But you should be grateful because it’s one of the reasons why I let you stay.”
The fridge shut and Ty appeared in front of her. “I’m serious about working for the Kinders. They’re a family of workaholics and they have no sense of balance. You need to take
care of yourself or you’ll burn out in a month.”
She mock saluted. “Aye aye, Captain.” But it was nice to have someone looking out for her besides her family. She’d gone so long without friends, she’d almost forgotten how enjoyable it was to have them.
To her surprise, he sat next to her and kicked off his shoes. Watching him, Caroline felt that same déjà vu that hit her last night. Something about him was…familiar. It didn’t make sense, but Ty had a way about him that made her feel…safe… like she was home.
He reached for the remote. “Do you like basketball?”
“Sure. But a warning. I’ll be rooting for Texas Tech.”
“You will be, huh? Even though they didn’t make it into the playoffs.” He shook his head. “You don’t watch basketball at all do you?”
“Truthfully? No. I don’t watch football either, which is a sin where I come from.”
Ty rolled up invisible sleeves and rubbed his hands together. “Challenge accepted. March Madness is a fundamental part of being an American, and by the end of tonight, you’re going to know enough to be an announcer.”
She indulged his fantasy and pretended to concentrate, his gestures and words moving too fast to interpret through her sports-deficient mind.
The air crackled with laughter and a warm sense of comfort embraced her.
Friends. Yeah, she could definitely get used to that.
Chapter 14
Tyler stared at the mass of unopened boxes, thinking they had somehow multiplied overnight. He’d unpacked four of them, and nothing he’d seen so far made any sense. There was no connection between the collections. One box held ten Dr. Seuss books. Another had different types of blown glass. The last two were fine china. He was beginning to wonder if this inheritance had been a gift or a practical joke.
He hauled another box outside the non air-conditioned unit, let the breeze cool his sweaty skin, and slid a razor through the tape. Lifting the flaps, he paused as twenty or thirty clocks and watches appeared, haphazardly tossed together. Some were gold, silver, bronze. A few were even tarnished and rusted. But once again, there was no paperwork or anything that would indicate the old man valued the collection. It was just another box of vintage junk.
Frustrated, he lightly kicked the cardboard and rubbed two hands over his face. This was pointless. A rabbit hole with no end in sight.
From inside the shed, his phone buzzed. Grateful for the interruption, Tyler swiped it off the tower of boxes. “Hello?”
“Tyler Mitchell?”
“Yeah.”
“Hey, it’s, um, Dustin.”
His heart stalled. “Dustin. Hey, I’m really glad you called.”
“Yeah. I figured we should at least talk.”
“Definitely. Yes.” Tyler blew out a breath, trying to sound casual and not nearly as desperate to know his long-lost brother as he was.
“I’ll be heading through Austin tonight, pretty close to Bentwood. I thought maybe we could grab an early dinner.”
“Yeah, absolutely. Morton’s is right off the highway. It’ll be a good break from the traffic.”
“Okay. I’ll see you there around 5:30.”
“Yeah. See you then.”
Tyler disconnected the call and ran a hand over his head. Dustin called. Which meant he was at least curious.
Immediately, as if his subconscious instinct was empowered by his surprise, his fingers hovered over Journey’s number and the familiar sickness returned. As much as she’d claimed he wouldn’t let her in his heart, the truth was he had exposed more of himself to her than to any other person in his life.
He admired her. The way she carefully gave advice, her wisdom, her compassion to anyone who was hurting, even her unending self-examination. She’d always been so much more than just a girlfriend. She’d been his partner, and now he ached to have her standing next to him, holding his hand when he met his brother for essentially the first time.
But the war he’d been battling since learning the truth remained. As much as he loved her, as much as he missed her, he still held her and Beck responsible for denying him his real family. Until that resentment went away, if it ever went away, they had no hope of recovery.
Morton’s had been his group’s favorite restaurant since they began offering two for one steaks on Thursday nights, even though it came with a forty-five minute wait time. He’d called ahead to get on the list, but the table wasn’t ready. Tyler paced back and forth. Dustin was ten minutes late. Late enough that Tyler was starting to doubt he was coming.
But just as he was beginning to write off their reunion. The old red pickup turned into the crowded lot and parked. Dustin emerged a minute later, tucked his cell phone into his jeans and walked toward the building. He wasn’t as casual as he had been the day at his grandfather’s, but Tyler was definitely overdressed in his slacks and polo. He blamed the Kinders. They practically had a dress code when dining out.
Tyler told himself to calm down. Dustin had a family. He’d been adopted as a baby, likely grown up with a mom and dad who loved him. Maybe he even had brothers and sisters. Chances were, this outing meant far more to Tyler than it did to him.
The plastic square the hostess had given him buzzed right as Dustin walked in the door.
“Hey, Man, sorry I’m late. I sat on I-35 for fifteen minutes without moving.”
Tyler chuckled. “Welcome to Austin. That’s why we stay hidden in our small community.”
He handed the hostess his flashing device and she led them to the back, near the bar area. Two TVs silently showed the quarter-finals on opposite ends.
Dustin kept his eyes locked on the screen as he sat. “LSU is gonna sweep this year. Their defense is unbeatable.”
Tyler swallowed a smile. He wasn’t a Tigers’ fan, but he didn’t say so. They spent the next ten minutes discussing scores, previous stats, arguing about which of their teams was better all round. By the time they’d ordered, the awkwardness had significantly reduced.
“When did you find Norman?” Tyler took a sip of his tea and hoped the question didn’t edge out all their progress.
Keeping one eye on the screen, Dustin leaned back against the booth cushion. “About eight months ago, I asked my parents for the adoption information. It was a private adoption, no agency, so they had our dad’s address at the time of the adoption. I knocked on the door, and Norm answered.” He rolled his glass between his hands. “I worked for him for about a month before I told him our connection.”
“Was he receptive?”
Dustin shrugged. “Seemed to be. He let me keep coming over.”
Tyler ached to push, to ask a million questions about Norman and his dad and why Dustin’s birth was kept such a secret. But he kept his voice casual. “Did he ever talk about the adoption with you?”
Dustin returned to watching the game. “Norm wasn’t coherent all the time. He’d get obsessed with little things and couldn’t pull out of it.”
“That explains his odd collections. Boxes and boxes of stuff that no sane person would keep.”
Dustin slowly returned his gaze to him. “You’ve been going through the boxes?”
“Yeah. A few.”
“What do you plan to do with them?”
“I don’t know. I was hoping they’d answer some of my questions.”
“Have they?”
Tyler sighed, heavily. “No. Not at all.”
Their waitress appeared with two hot plates and tea refills. Dustin smiled at her, flirted a little, then focused on his sixteen ounce ribeye. He didn’t return to their earlier conversation about Norman or his things, choosing instead to eat in silence.
Tyler was usually good in these situations. Warming people up, getting them to talk about family and friends. It was a key part of sales, that personal connection. But Dustin didn’t seem to want any of it. Maybe they needed a better location, one without so much distraction.
“Next time you come through town, we can go out to the storage unit,”
he offered.
Dustin’s eyes piqued with interest for the first time since he sat down. “That would be great. I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about me having access to your grandfather’s things.”
“He was your grandfather too.”
His brother smiled. “Yeah, I guess he was.”
Finally, it made sense. His hesitancy, his standoffishness. Dustin was as worried about being rejected as Tyler was. “Listen. I don’t have any family left, well except you, and if you’re interested, I’d be grateful for the help.”
Dustin waited, watched Tyler with a look that was both skeptical and curious. “Okay. I’ll call you next time I’m in the area.”
Maybe there was hope for the two of them. “Sounds like a plan.”
Chapter 15
Frazzled and frustrated, Journey slammed her car door. Beck’s sketchy, last-minute text demanding she meet him at Morton’s for a 911 on Ty was so typical of her friend’s arrogance. She’d been completely immersed in her painting since school let out, and there was absolutely no reason, with all the technology they had these days, that she should have to show up at Morton’s to find out what was going on.
She pulled open the glass doors and blew out an exasperated breath when she saw Beck standing near the hostess counter, texting on his phone. The same one she’d tried to reach him on for over an hour. “Why didn’t you answer my calls?”
His head popped up. “Oh good. Let’s get a table.”
“We have to wait for April.”
His mouth immediately tightened. “Why? This has nothing to do with her.”
“Well, if you’d called me back, I would have informed you that she and I had plans for dinner. And when I tried to cancel, she did her lawyer voodoo on me and got me to spill that we were coming here.” She pulled at her splattered, grungy t-shirt, not used to being in public this way. Her reflection in the closing glass door had Journey quickly twisting her paint-crusted hair into a bun. Maybe she had some lip-gloss in her purse. Though truthfully, at this point, any attempt was likely a lost cause. “So what is the emergency? And why couldn’t you just tell me over the phone?”
Until I Knew Myself (Bentwood Book 1) Page 10
