Begin Again (Home In You Book 2)

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Begin Again (Home In You Book 2) Page 6

by Crystal Walton


  It’d taken her only a few days on the island to figure out what kind of shop would thrive there. Drew had what it’d take to pull it off. She saw it in him last night. They’d made progress. Did she push too hard? What happened?

  White water churned along the sides of the ferry like the constant turmoil inside her. She’d escaped it for a few hours last night. Drew’s voice had been like a calming lullaby. Maybe it was selfish to want to hold on to that, but he could at least be civil. He had to see the ground they’d gained, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

  The drive home from the ferry pulsed with unspoken tension. At the curb in front of his house, Ti cut the ignition and turned. “You wanna tell me—?”

  Drew’s door squeaked open as he clambered out of his seat.

  “O-kay,” she said to the empty car. If he wanted to play it tough, fine. Ti yanked the keys out and jogged up the walkway to the screen door swinging behind him.

  He might not want her to follow, but they needed to talk.

  Inside, he plugged his cell into a charger beside a fish tank brimming with sea glass.

  “Drew, can you slow down a sec?”

  He trekked into the kitchen without responding.

  Alone by the counter in only pajama pants, Cooper turned and lowered a half-eaten bagel from his mouth.

  “Where’s Maddie?” Drew’s single-focused mission ushered him across the room to the back door, where he peeked outside.

  “Hi to you, too.” Cooper picked up his coffee mug. One glance at Drew’s rumpled shirt Ti was still wearing sent his dimples reaching for each other. “Have fun last night?”

  Drew’s neck twitched. “Maddie. Where is she?”

  The slight crease on Cooper’s forehead betrayed his steady gaze. “Asleep.”

  “Still?” Drew’s moment of hesitation turned into an advance. “What happened?”

  Evading his brother’s eyes this time, Cooper took a sip of his coffee.

  “Coop.”

  “She had some trouble with her stomach, but she’s fine. Grandma Jo and I took turns checking in on her all night.”

  Another step closer brought them almost chest to chest. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Cooper broadened his surfer frame. “You couldn’t get here. There was no need for you to worry.”

  “That wasn’t your call to make.”

  “The heck it wasn’t.”

  Ti lanced between them before she had time to think. “Easy, guys. We’re all on the same team here.”

  No one moved. Without a word, Drew finally backed up and trucked for the stairs.

  Ti raised an apologetic shoulder at Cooper. “He had a long night.”

  Cooper let out a terse laugh while picking up his mug. “More like a long decade.”

  Despite Drew’s closed-off exterior, Ti’s heart ached for him as it had last night when he’d told her about losing his parents. After losing his wife, too, what did anyone expect?

  But whatever the reason, now wasn’t the time to get into it. She hurried up the steps after him. In front of a bedroom door, Drew kept his head down and hand on the knob until a father’s tenderness gradually superseded all other emotion on his face. Another deliberate breath led him inside.

  Ti peered into the room from behind the trim. A gray-haired African American woman sat asleep in a rocking chair across from Maddie’s bed, where she lay with a Jack Russell nuzzled against her side and a bottle of Propel within reach on the nightstand.

  “Hey, Sea Monkey,” Drew whispered as he sat on the mattress.

  “Dad!” Maddie rustled without disturbing the dog snoring beside her. “Did you find any sea turtles on Cedar Island yesterday?”

  He chuckled. “Not this time. But I did see a school of dolphin early this morning.”

  “Did they dance for you?”

  Those eyes. Even from across the room, their vibrancy reached straight for Ti’s heart.

  “They sure did.” Drew folded the top of her pink comforter down, his face creasing with it. “But it wasn’t worth missing getting to tuck you in last night. I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

  “It’s okay. Grandma Jo said good-night prayers with me.”

  A glance over to the sleeping woman brought him back around with a glint of nostalgia in his eyes. “She’s been saying good-night prayers for a long time.”

  “Yeah, she’s a pro. We prayed for you and Miss Ti and Miss Chloe and M—”

  “You didn’t keep Grandma Jo up half the night, did you?” His teasing tone barely compensated for the audible ache underneath it.

  “Only ’cause she had me all excited about making sun catchers today.”

  “Aw, sweetie.” Drew combed her bangs off her forehead. “You sure you’re up for that today?”

  Maddie clasped two hands around his and faced him with more maturity than girls twice her age. “You don’t have to worry about me, Dad.”

  Ti’s grip around the trim constricted at the sight of Drew’s Adam’s apple bobbing.

  He mussed the top of her hair. “How can I not worry about my spunky Sea Monkey? No telling what you talk Grandma Jo into when I’m not here.”

  Giggling, she batted his hand away. “That’s ’cause girls know how to keep secrets.”

  “Oh, really?” He poked her side. “Now you’re gonna have to spill it. What do you say to a dinner date tonight?”

  Her eyes sparkled. “Spaghetti and meatballs?”

  “You’re on.” Drew bent down to kiss her forehead.

  Maddie pulled her bottom lip in as he stood. “Dad? We could do morning prayers before you go. You know, to make up for missing last night.”

  The tenderness on Drew’s face finished off Ti’s heart. She wheeled out of the doorway and leaned against the wall. No wonder he was so stressed about missing the ferry. Who wouldn’t be with a precious daughter at home waiting to say bedtime prayers?

  Regret for keeping him out collided with something Ti couldn’t identify. She only knew she couldn’t keep standing there.

  She rushed down the stairs and through the door. Outside, she paced along the walkway in front of the house. But before she could sort through her tangled thoughts, Drew strode out with his cell to his ear. His eyes darkened, and Ti’s insides twisted even more.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “A message from Chloe.” He pocketed his phone. “She got sick yesterday. Said she had to close up a little before one.”

  Heated silence churned. Drew didn’t have to say what he was thinking. Ti could feel the slow burn from here.

  He dug his fingers through his hair, turned away, and swore. “I have to get to the shop. I can’t afford to miss any more sales.”

  “Drew, wait.” She caught his arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for us to miss the ferry. You were so relaxed at the café—”

  “No, I was caught up in whatever spell you were wielding.” He rubbed his temples. “That wasn’t me. I never should’ve gone and wasted the day like that.”

  His estimation of their time together practically slapped her in the face, but a flare of irritation overrode the sting. “I realize fun might be a foreign concept to you, but that’s what you were having last night.”

  “You don’t get it. I’m not a wanderlust-hungry adventurer constantly looking for a good time. I have obligations. Bills to pay, people who count on me.”

  “And I don’t?”

  He released a hard breath. “Not all of us have easy lives.”

  Ti clenched her fingers. “You don’t know a thing about my life.”

  “A hopeful artist, running away from whatever mess she got herself caught up in.” A piercing gaze darted to the phone sticking out of her pocket. “I know the type.”

  “And now I know yours.” She cut off the tears mounting her throat. “Glad we cleared that up.”

  Behind his anger, a flash of something broken tugged at his eyes, but Ti didn’t stick around to wait for a response. He wanted to see her run away? Watch me.
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  Chapter Six

  Currents

  Still fuming, Drew rammed through the shop’s door and flicked on the lights. Ti shouldn’t be upset. She was the one who’d waltzed in here three days ago like some artsy daydreamer eager to change everything. Including him. What did she think was going to happen?

  Frustration propelled him toward the staircase and the need to prove she was wrong about him, but his feet stopped at the barrier he knew better than to cross.

  Two breaths. Three. The angry heartbeats assaulting his rib cage slowed as the fight replayed in his head. His death grip around the banister didn’t come close to the one drilling guilt into his chest. This wasn’t just about Ti, and he knew it.

  He sank onto the third step, propped his elbows on his knees, and rubbed the heels of his palms in his eye sockets. I know the type? Way to be a world-class jerk, Anderson. With a labored exhale, his fatigued body almost withered into the hardwoods.

  Stress and exhaustion weren’t an excuse. He couldn’t fault Ti for striking pressure points she didn’t even know about.

  At least it was over now. After the way he’d just treated her, she had every right to pack her bags. She’d go on to her next adventure, and he’d get back to taking care of his family the way Dad would’ve. It was better that way. For everyone.

  He pulled himself up by the rail and headed to the back workroom. Only one way to move. Forward.

  As Drew made his tea, the unused furnace in the far corner practically smirked at him with taunting reminders of the role art had played in his life once. He stirred a spoonful of sugar in his mug and fixed his gaze on the electric teakettle, but the pull didn’t relent.

  It wanted to mock his past, too? Fine. He tossed the spoon on the counter and crossed the room, ready to tell the worthless furnace where to stick it. Yet the regrets that surfaced weren’t the ones he expected. He dropped his fist to the edge and traced his hand along the cold, unyielding metal. Remorse didn’t change the fact that some fires were meant to go out.

  Mug in hand, Drew plodded over to the computer. Time to press on.

  Within the hour, Ti’s bright yellow smart car cruised up along the curb. Mixed feelings tensed his muscles all over again. She was probably dropping off the things they’d bought yesterday. Or she was stopping on her way out to give him the earful he had coming. But instead of doing either, Ti toted supplies to the front of the shop and started mixing paint.

  Drew cautiously eased through the door. “You didn’t leave?”

  “I changed my mind.” In jean shorts and a yellow tank top as bright as her car, Ti tied a matching bandana under her hair and kept right on working. “I’m from Queens, Drew. Your attitude doesn’t intimidate me.”

  Too bad he couldn’t say the same. Everything about this girl intimidated him. More than it should.

  The magnitude of what a jerk he’d been since she came to town sank another blow. “Ti . . .”

  “I told you I’m here to help. So, you’re just gonna have to get over yourself and get used to it.” She jimmied open a paint can and plunked a stir stick in it.

  Smiling at her obstinacy, he started toward her. “Ti—”

  “And I warned you, I call things like I see them.” A woman on a mission, she stirred with enough vigor to power a speedboat. “You’re not gonna scare me away. I—”

  “Ti!” He cut off her incessant buzzing and waited for her to meet the sincerity in his eyes. “I’m sorry.” He let each word fall between them with the weight they carried. “I was way out of line back there. It’s not an excuse, but Maddie . . . she’s . . .”

  “Your whole world.” Her voice grew solemn. “I don’t blame you for being protective. I understand.”

  And was far more forgiving than he deserved. “Still, I’m sorry for what I said.”

  Ti tucked a wayward wisp of hair under her bandana. “Apology accepted. Now, you ready to get to work, or what?”

  She didn’t let much get to her, did she?

  Drew rolled up his sleeves. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

  He hoped.

  “Good.” She handed him a brush and tray. “Here. Painting makes everything better.”

  Drew took one look at the turquoise paint and shook his head. He still had no idea what this had to do with business, but he wasn’t about to start another argument.

  Ti quickly fixed her own tray and started on the shutters closest to her, all while singing to herself. Of course.

  Barefoot, she swayed with as much radiance as the studs in her ears catching the sunlight. Stubborn and brazen, yet faithful and forgiving—despite his arrogance. She’d called him an enigma, but Ti Russo was a mystery of her own. One capable of tearing through walls he shouldn’t be lowering.

  Looking away, he loaded his brush and fanned a coat of paint over the top edge of the weathered shutter. Why couldn’t life’s blunders be as easy to cover?

  “Falling short,” he said after a few silent minutes.

  Ti turned. “What?”

  “Last night, you asked me my greatest fear. I’m afraid of letting Maddie down. Of her realizing I’m not everything she needs me to be.”

  “That’ll never happen. You’re the kind of dad little girls dream of.” Her hand stilled above the shutter, but she didn’t peel her gaze off it. “You take good care of her.”

  “More like the other way around.” Maddie had been the brave one, comforting him when his faith faltered. Drew brushed along the grains. “She got real sick last year. Almost like her body started working against itself. Doctors couldn’t explain it. We saw specialists. Made ER visits. We were at the end of our rope when a GI doc finally diagnosed her with an autoimmune disease.”

  Images of his little girl in the ER shuddered over him.

  Ti curled her fingers around his. Consoling.

  “It’s mostly been controlled with medications these last few months, but flare-ups can strike anytime.” He lowered his brush and his chin. “Without insurance, the medical bills . . . If she ever needs to go to the ER again, and I can’t afford to . . .” Thick layers of unsolicited emotion clogged his voice without warning.

  “The shop’s going to make it, Drew. I promise. Single parenting is anything but easy. This situation isn’t your fault. You’re doing the best you can.” Ti’s blue eyes teemed with an assurance he wanted so much to grasp onto, believe. It rooted straight into the torment of doubt he kept hidden from everyone but this girl who seemed to see right inside him.

  A palpable energy stirred between them—her fingers still grazing his, seconds passing in breaths and heartbeats.

  The rapid movements in her chest said she felt the magnetized pull, too. With a forced blink away from him, she slipped back to her paint station. “You should let Maddie help out around here. I could use a hand with some of the projects,” she rambled quickly, a waver short-circuiting her usual flow. “And you’d be surprised how much art can do for the soul.”

  And how easily it could break it.

  “You could make your own artwork, too, you know. Turn this shop into anything you want. No limits.” Ti fanned a stroke across the shutter. “Find that source of passion, and you’ll find a lot more than a successful business.”

  Her reverence for art whispered a familiar craving through his soul, an echo without an answer.

  He didn’t respond. Couldn’t. But even the quiet kept an electric current surging through the unspoken waves between them. The flutter on her neck almost cut off all logic telling his treacherous legs not to move a muscle.

  Curbing the connection, Drew stayed put and focused on painting instead. Better to follow her lead and keep things light. Easy. He rubbed his chin while eying the turquoise glaring at him in the sun. “You sure about this color? I mean, don’t you think it’s a little . . . ?”

  “Eye-catching? That’s the idea, Grasshopper.”

  Of course it was. Bright and feisty like the artist who chose it. Their sideways glances intersected long enough for two half sm
iles to mirror each other. “You give nicknames to everyone you know, or am I just special?”

  “Oh, you’re definitely special, Mr. Anderson.”

  One day, he’d stop walking smack into these things. “Bet your parents had fun with that sense of humor of yours.”

  She snorted. “More like I was stuck with a joke for parents.” Her spine turned rigid, her brushstroke frozen in place.

  “You all right?”

  “Yeah.” Head down, Ti adjusted her bandana and avoided his eyes. “I’m gonna grab a coffee. You want a coffee?”

  He wanted her to be honest with him. Wanted to put her at ease.

  He scrunched his face in mock disgust, and whatever had her so tense passed with a breeze blowing her hair along her neckline. Her usual impish grin reemerged. “Right. The grass drinker. For a second there, I forgot I was in an alternate universe where people can survive without coffee.”

  “And yet the dramatic continues to thrive.”

  “Always.” Ti curtseyed and spun toward the front door.

  If he figured out even half of what went through that girl’s head before the summer ended, he’d be the one bowing for an award. If they could survive working with each other, maybe they’d both win.

  Ti returned a few minutes later, all traces of unease hidden under the bliss of her mojo. She had the skill of deflection down even better than him. He’d give her that.

  Remnants of their earlier fight waned a little more with each dip of the sun. Aside from having to stop intermittently to take care of a few customers and check in on Maddie and Grandma Jo, Drew labored alongside Ti most of the day.

  Parched and beat, he raised the bottom of his T-shirt to wipe the sweat from his face and took in the reward of their hard work. The giant sand dollar stepping-stones and decorative multicolored rocks lining the walkway to the front door weren’t half bad. And he had to admit the freshly painted shutters “popped” from the background, as Ti had promised.

  He got the feeling he’d be eating his words about this not making any difference.

  Drew joined Ti around the side of the shop, where she was rinsing out the brushes and trays.

  The girl owned the patent on turning a five-second glance into a gloating fest. “Come to tell me I was right?”

 

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