Forward Passes (Seattle Lumberjacks)

by Jami Davenport

  Not bothering to knock or ring the doorbell, Lavender wrenched Tyler’s front door open. She stalked down the hallway into the den. He sat in his chair, drinking a beer, and watching a basketball game, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Cougar was draped across his chest.

  Tyler glanced up at her, his expression closed and unreadable. “Hey.”

  “You shouldn’t have interfered.”

  “What? And let her dig through your stuff? What right does she have?” Tyler sat up, and Coug slid off his lap. Irritated, the cat shot a glare at Lavender like it was her fault.

  “She owns the place, and I’m two months behind on my rent. That gives her the right.” She hated making excuses for her grandmother’s behavior, but criticism of her gram always made her defensive. Maybe because the truth hurt?

  “Well, guess what, honey? She doesn’t own the place. Your father does. It’s in trust for you and your brother. She has no right to charge you anything.”

  “You’re lying.” Lavender couldn’t believe his words. Gram wouldn’t deceive her that badly. Would she go that far? Lavender stomach churned and her throat went dry as a cornfield in a drought. Buying time to think, she crossed to his bar and poured a glass of water.

  Tyler stood up. Instead of approaching her, he parked his fine body in front of the window. “Why would I lie? What would be in it for me?”

  “You don’t like my grandmother, and you’ve taken my father’s side. Jocks stick together.”

  “Yeah, you’re right, we do. And we’re all assholes.” His blue eyes froze to ice, even as he blasted her with his angry words.

  “All you want is sex.” She pushed him, halfway hoping he’d deny her accusations. “My grandmother knows all about guys like you. I should’ve listened to her.”

  “Your grandmother doesn’t know shit, unless you’re referring to pure, hateful vindictiveness. She wrote the book on that.” The muscles in his arms bulged, probably from the stress of holding his body under control, but he didn’t dispute the all-you-want-is-sex part. She died a little inside.

  “Don’t badmouth my grandmother. My father’s filled you full of shit.” Intense pain clawed at her gut, making her a little nauseous. Her head ached from confusion and fear—fear she might be wrong.

  Tyler lowered his voice. “Maybe she’s the one who’s full of shit. I talked to your father after the awards banquet. I got a totally different story from him—one that checks out.” A hint of regret mixed with sadness burrowed into the grim lines around his mouth.

  Lavender fought the urge to throw herself in the comfort of his strong arms and let him make the pain go away. Instead, she rose again to her grandmother’s defense, even as doubts clogged her thought processes. She’d been defending her grandmother for so long it came as second nature. “He doesn’t give a damn about me. He hates my grandmother. What better way to hurt her than to take me away from her. My grandmother is a saint. I love her, even with all her faults.”

  Tyler softened his tone, tempering it with sympathy, which pulled the plug on her temper. “I’m not questioning your love for your grandmother. I know you love her. I’m not trying to drive a wedge between the two of you. I would never do that. It’s not healthy anymore than it’s healthy for you to be forced to pick between your father and grandparents.”

  Pretty insightful words from a guy who claimed to be selfish and uninvolved.

  “My dad was never home. It was always football, football, football.” Lavender paused, wiped at her eyes and blundered forward. Despite the strength of her words, her resolve stumbled like a blind man in an unfamiliar place.

  Tyler cocked his head as if listening intently. He caught her hand and squeezed it, his touch gentle and almost caring. He nodded for her to continue. Lavender gripped his hand, and stared at the glass in her other hand.

  “Here’s something you don’t know about me. I played sports.” She lifted her gaze, wanting to gauge his reaction.

  He opened his mouth like a fish, but no words came out.

  “Don’t look so shocked. I was a female jock, assured of getting a softball scholarship to a D-1 school. When my dad got the big job, he left us in Mt. Vernon and never looked back. Then Mom died. Dad promised he’d come get us, but he never did. He stayed in touch for a while then the calls became non-existent.” Her voice wavered then cracked. She paused, took a sip of water, and drew strength from his fingers wrapped around her hand.

  “He didn’t exercise his visitation, too much bother I guess. I went into a downward spiral, partying, drugs, drinking. I quit softball, never played another game. I lost all chance of a scholarship. My grades tanked. I went from a top student to barely graduating from high school. Through it all, Gram was there. When I hit rock-bottom, they picked me up and got me straightened out. I owe her my loyalty, and I owe Grandpa. They sacrificed their sanity for me.” There she’d said it, gotten it all out. A couple tears slipped down her cheeks. She ignored them.

  “You don’t have to defend your grandmother to me. I’m not on your dad’s side or your grandmother’s side. I’m on your side, and your side of the story tells me that you miss your dad. It’s time to forgive both of them.” Tyler wiped away her tears with the pad of his thumb. She leaned into him without thinking.

  “My grandmother doesn’t need my forgiveness.”

  “She should.” Tyler shook his head, weariness etched lines into his face she’d never noticed before.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means this black and white situation is neither. The villain in this scene is much more complicated, and you deserve to know the truth. Your grandmother made it so difficult for your dad; he went away rather than put you and your brother in the middle of a contentious situation. I’m not excusing his part in this, but she played a part, too.”

  “I don’t want to hear this. My grandmother has always had my best interests at heart.” Despite her words, the cold hand of truth clutched her throat, almost strangling her. Yanking free of Tyler’s grasp, she covered her face with her hands.

  “Are you certain of that? I think you’re afraid she’ll cut you out of her life just like your brother. Her love is conditional—Do this for me, and I’ll love you. Don’t do this, and I won’t. That’s bullshit. Pure and simple. Healthy parents or grandparents encourage their children to have a relationship with the other parent. They don’t do their best to poison it.”

  “You don’t know anything.” Lavender hugged herself, praying she didn’t throw up.

  “You’re an animal lover with no animals. I know you walk on eggshells around her. You pretend to be a rebel on the surface but it’s all show. Underneath, you conform to everything she asks you.”

  “You’re so wrong.” Her stomach churned and bile rose in her throat, as the obvious truth blindsided her.

  Tyler crossed to the antique roll-top desk in the corner of the large room. He opened it and removed a large manila envelope.

  “Take a look at this stuff. My sisters did some research for me. It’s all here. The records for child support your grandmother claimed your father didn’t pay, the deed on the property, all of it.” Tyler shoved the envelope into her hands.

  Lavender stared at the bulging envelope. Her hands shook. If she looked inside, life as she’d come to know it might change forever. Truths she took as the gospel might be shaken to their very foundations.

  She couldn’t look, couldn’t take that step.

  She stalked to the fire, and tossed the alleged damning evidence into the flames. Whirling around, she rubbed her hands together, squared her shoulders, and spoke clearly. “That’s the last I want to hear of this subject. Please drop it. It’s too painful for me right now. I’m not ready.”

  His face changed. The hard rigid lines gave way to affectionate concern. He managed a sad smile, but his brow furrowed with worry. “I’m sorry.” He moved close to her.

  Those two little words came across as so heartfelt, so genuine, Lavender’s heart wre
nched and tears flowed down her cheeks. Obviously assuming she was crying because of her family drama, Tyler wrapped her in his strong arms. She tried to push him away, but he didn’t budge. He rubbed her back with gentle hands and murmured words of comfort in her ear. His husky voice tickled her insides and uninvited tenderness seeped to the surface. Caving, she buried her head in his chest and sobbed for all she’d lost and was about to lose in her life, most of all for this man.

  Sure, she’d been pissed as hell at him for interfering, for shaking things up, for dredging up painful memories, but he’d done it with the best of intentions. A woman couldn’t hate a man for caring.

  Caring?

  He cared? Well, of course, he cared. At least a little because as much as she tried to convince herself otherwise, Tyler Harris was a good guy. Sure, he had his asshole moments like when he baited her grandmother. Despite his best or worst intentions, the nice guy shone through. She almost laughed as she clung to him. He’d be appalled at how well she saw through him, so she’d keep it her little secret.

  Lavender breathed in the alluring scent of soap and man. She could get used to not being so strong all the time and letting him carry the load for a little while.

  Yet, precious times like these were fleeting and temporary. The man caused as much mayhem in her life as he did joy. She didn’t need the brand of rollercoaster romance that happened to be Tyler’s signature.

  Still, for tonight and the next few days, she’d throw her hands in the air and scream for the thrill of it as that rollercoaster careened around the corners on the wildest ride of her lifetime. And she needed that wild ride right now so she could forget the pain.

  “Just make me feel better. Please.”

  For a second, Tyler almost looked like he would turn her down, but his little head must have won the battle. Instead, he grabbed her and threw her over his shoulder as if her weight was insignificant. From her position, she zeroed in on his fine ass and took advantage of the situation. Raising her hand, she smacked one firm butt cheek with the palm of her hand. His fingers tightened around her thighs in response.

  “You’re going to regret that.” He put his growled threat into action and smacked her butt. She yelped and tried to wiggle out of his grasp. Impossible. The man’s muscles held like a steel trap. He smacked her again.

  “You know I like that.”

  “I’m always one to give a lady what she likes.”

  “Is that a promise?”

  “You bet your sweet ass it is.”

  And just like that the queen of denial mounted her throne and did what she did best—avoided the real problems in her life and substituted sex as a short-term solution.

  A long-term resolution would have to wait for another day.

  Chapter 25

  The End Run

  Tyler stared beyond the protected Outlaw Bay to the waters of Hazard Channel as he had countless times before.

  His eyes didn’t register the beauty as his thoughts focused inward.

  He wanted to rip his hair out by the roots in frustration. He couldn’t recall dealing with a weirder situation, and he’d had some doozies over the years. He didn’t know how to get through to Lavender. Her grandmother was hopeless, but the Lavender he’d come to know and lo—

  Love?

  Tyler slammed the brakes on that thought.

  Cass had been a fixture in his life for years, yet he’d never called what they had together love. In fact, he’d never told Cass he’d loved her, not even when he sort of proposed. Could he have fallen in love with Lavender, an obnoxious, pixy-sized woman with a passionate temper and fire red hair? Hell, if he stuck around her much longer, he’d have major back problems from bending down all the time. Her head barely came to his midsection. A wicked grin slid across his face. Of course, her height did have its advantages.

  Oh, yeah, they enjoyed each other’s company in and out of bed. The bantering between them made life exciting and unpredictable. She kept Tyler on his toes. They had a lot in common. Animals took up a soft spot in both their hearts. Come to find out, Lavender was actually a sports fan, too, and quite knowledgeable, even though she denied her interest in sports, especially football, every step of the way.

  Last night had thrown him off his game completely. He’d bargained for some down-and-dirty sex and had not been disappointed. Yet, somewhere in all the grunting, sweating, thrusting, and sliding, a seed of compassion took root. He didn’t quite know what they’d planted, only that even as they screwed each other’s brains out, this thing sprouted and grew, leaving him wrapped in a blanket of warm contentment for hours afterward.

  When he finally came down out of the stratosphere and regained his senses, he attempted to convince his brain—both of them—the entire thing had to be a fluke, a bi-product of mind-blowing sex and nothing of substance, not like the utter devotion he’d witnessed over the years between his parents.

  Still, he conceded Lavender had given him something special. He was bound and determined to give as good as he got.

  In a few days he could leave the island for good, head back to the city with all its excitement and bustle, so many things to do and places to go.

  His gaze settled on the bay and the channel beyond it, the same bay his great-great grandparents sailed into so many years ago and decided to stay. They’d raised their children here. They’d laughed, loved, and cried here. Hell, they’d even bootlegged whiskey here back in the prohibition days. And they’d buried their dead. Oh, yeah, he’d found the headstones of the small overgrown family cemetery a week or so ago. He wondered about the people buried there. What would they think of his plans to destroy his legacy? Their love of this place was coded in his DNA.

  His decision to sell seemed so simple almost three months ago. He swallowed past the lump in his throat. Once he returned to Seattle and his old life, he’d gain some needed perspective.

  But for now, he wasn’t in any hurry to move back to the mainland. Lavender’s birthday was coming up, the same day his ninety-day exile ended, a weird coincidence not wasted on him. He wanted it to be special, one last hurrah before they parted ways, and they had to part ways. Tyler hated long-distance romances. He needed his woman available when the urge struck and not on some island in the middle of fu—effing nowhere.

  Still...

  Crap. Was this how love felt? This inexplicable need for another person, to be so close that even when physically separated she was still there. In his heart.

  Tyler pressed his forehead against the cool window, striving to clear his head of all these contradictory thoughts. As a man schooled in snap decisions, he’d never been so conflicted. He’d figure out his future when the moment presented itself, and trust his instincts. They’d served him well in the past. But for now, he had some planning to do for a birthday she’d never forget.

  He knew exactly the perfect present. She may not appreciate it at first. But if he knew his Lavender, she’d thank him later, once the smoke cleared. Her initial reaction wouldn’t be pretty, but he was a big guy, and he’d handle it, even if he couldn’t handle five geriatric men with no manners and an orange tabby cat.

  Speaking of the devils themselves.

  Tyler sighed, as Homer and Jim sauntered into his den. “Don’t you two know how to knock?”

  “Why should we knock?” Jim squinted at him and mistook the cat for a pillow. Yowling in protest, Cougar slid out from under Jim, shook himself off, and glared at the old man over his shoulder.

  “So for what reason did you break into my house this time?” Tyler adopted a long-suffering expression normally reserved when addressing his sisters.

  The two men looked at each other, as if they’d forgotten why they were harassing him. Tyler waited them out as they consulted with each other in whispers.

  Finally Jim turned back to him. “We want you to keep this place.”

  “Really?” Tyler suppressed the urge to laugh and had no clue what he found so funny.

  Homer ran a hand over th
e now-finished banister, gleaming with a fresh coat of varnish. “I can offer my services to oversee the renovations.”

  “Okay, but why?”

  Again that quick look between the two men. “We like you. This island needs some young blood and so does Twin Cedars. The Harrises have long been a fixture around here. It’s time for the next generation to pick up the torch.”

  “You make it sound like an Olympic event.”

  “Restoring this place might as well be.”

  They’d get no argument from Tyler on that point.

  “Artie had a method to his madness when he left the place to you. He knew if he forced you to stay here, you’d fall in love with it like he had, like your grandfather and your father had. And like all your ancestors before them.” Jim bent down to study the banister more closely. “Wasn’t this orange?”

  “Lime green.” Tyler corrected him.

  “If he’d left it to us, we would have sold it or lost it. It would’ve been bulldozed. Artie didn’t want that, but he couldn’t afford to restore it either. You can.”

  Could he afford it? Yeah, probably if he handled his money better, played five more years, quit wasting his life on parties, women, and material stuff that didn’t make him feel any better.

  Tyler didn’t react on the outside, but on the inside, he staggered backward as if punched in the gut.

  He couldn’t sell Twin Cedars.

  It needed to stay in his family and generations of Harrises to come. His sly old uncle had known exactly what he was doing when he’d written the ninety-day requirement into the will. Uncle Art knew him better than he’d known himself.

  “So you guys want to help me out with renovations?”

  “Well, when we have time. The Widow Chandler’s been giving me the eye. At my age a guy goes for the bird in the hand.” Homer winked at him and slicked back his hair, preening like a peacock in the antique mirror hanging on the wall.