ALSO BY LEDDY HARPER
Home No More
My Biggest Mistake
Falling to Pieces
Take Your Time
Beautiful Boy
Eminent Love
Resuscitate Me
Lust
I Do(n’t)
The Roommate ‘dis’Agreement
Love Rerouted
Kiss My Ash
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2019 by Leddy Harper
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Montlake Romance, Seattle
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Montlake Romance are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781503905184
ISBN-10: 1503905187
Cover design by Erin Dameron Hill
You were with me when I got the email for this opportunity, and you have been there every day since.
I couldn’t have done this without you, Kristie.
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
PROLOGUE
Tatum
The soft glow of the overhead lights bounced off the brilliant diamond that sat high on my left ring finger. It’d been two months since Michael had put it there, and not a day went by that I didn’t lose time admiring it.
Silverware clinked, conversations carried on at the tables surrounding us, and the heavenly aroma of cloves filled the air. Nothing could ruin this night for me. It was my twenty-fifth birthday, I had the love of my life next to me, and as soon as my friends and family arrived, I would be surrounded by people who meant the world to me.
“It’s not too late, Tatum.” Michael leaned into the table with his forearms, pulling my attention away from my ring. “We can skip dinner and celebrate at home—alone.”
I rolled my eyes and smiled, playfully waving him off. He’d spent the better part of the last week trying to get me to change our plans. As the owner of a popular restaurant in town, he hated dining at a rival establishment, but I didn’t care to have my birthday dinner at the place I worked five days a week.
“You’ll be okay, Michael. We’ll be home in two hours, maybe less, and then you’ll have me all to yourself.”
“Yeah right,” he muttered under his breath as he turned his head toward the door. He didn’t need to explain what that meant; he wasn’t pleased that my family would be staying with us for a couple of days.
When I’d found out that my parents and brother planned to fly in for the weekend to celebrate my birthday, I couldn’t have been happier. Michael, though, didn’t feel the same. He’d always seemed to avoid my family, yet he insisted he loved them. Apparently, he just wasn’t thrilled to have others stay at our house, stating that it made him feel like he had to “perform.”
“Oh, come on. It’s not like they’ll be in our room.”
He glared at me as though I’d said something ridiculous. Most couples would probably avoid being intimate while guests slept down the hall, but I didn’t see that as an issue. I might not have had any experience prior to Michael, but based on some of the wild stories I’d heard from friends, I thought we were rather tame. I mean, aside from heavy breathing, we didn’t make much noise. So I wasn’t sure where his reluctance stemmed from.
I reached for his hand, needing the reassurance I typically found in his touch. Except, I didn’t get it this time. Instead of reciprocating the gesture, he pulled his arm away and began to tug on his tie. He fidgeted with it so much that the knot appeared to have been made by a child rather than a thirty-five-year-old man.
Michael had always been able to calm my uneasiness, yet now, he was the cause of it. And the longer he sat there, clearing his throat, the worse it got. I couldn’t recall a single time in the last two and a half years that I had ever worried about the future of our relationship. Well, beyond the first few months. But once I felt at home with him, we were good. So, seeing him this uncomfortable and anxious freaked me out.
“What’s going on, Michael?”
He shook his head, and for a split second, I thought he was about to tell me it was nothing. But then he pushed away from the table and glanced toward the front door. “I can’t do this, Tatum. I thought I could . . .” He brought his despondent gaze to me and whispered, “I’m so sorry.”
Even though my heart was in my throat, I forced a smile to my lips. I refused to believe this was what it looked like. “It’s okay. We can leave and go home. I’ll just text—”
“No. I don’t mean tonight.”
I stared without blinking, ignoring the painful dryness that stabbed my eyes. I had to have heard him wrong or misunderstood what he meant. Because there was no way that my fiancé—the man I shared a home with, worked with, planned to spend the rest of my life with—would break up with me like this.
On my birthday.
At dinner.
While waiting for my family to join us.
There was just no way. So, I held my breath and waited for clarification.
“Everything just caught up to me, and I don’t think I can handle it.”
When he stood, I followed, hoping for one last chance to change his mind. “You’re leaving? Just like that? Michael, everyone will be here any minute now. What am I supposed to tell them?”
“It doesn’t matter what you tell them, Tatum. That’s up to you. I just can’t sit here and pretend everything’s okay when it’s not.”
“I don’t understand. What’s not okay? And where did this come from?”
There was a good chance we’d garnered the attention of everyone around us, but I didn’t care. I wouldn’t give up until I had an answer or until he resumed his seat next to me.
“We’re moving way too fast.” He shook his head, dismissing the tears that lined my eyes.
“Too fast? We’ve been together for two years. You asked me to marry you.” I kept my voice low but made sure he heard my pain.
“Let’s talk about this another time. People are starting to stare. I’ll leave the house tonight since your family already planned to stay there. We can figure out the rest after they leave.”
“Where are you going?”
“I don’t know, Tatum. I’ll find a couch to sleep on for the weekend.”
Too stunned to speak—or do anything, really—I stood there and watched him leave. At some point, I sat back down, though I wasn’t sure how long that had taken or how graceful it had been. I only broke free from the trance when I heard, “There’s the birthday girl!”
Ever since my brother, Tanner, had moved to Alaska, I was lucky if I got to see him and his family once a year. My parents had become so active in their retirement community that visits had to be arranged and on the calendar months in advance. Needless to say, I didn’t see my family often, so when I turned to find the three of them—Tanner, Mom, and Dad—my lack of enthus
iasm might’ve been alarming had they actually paid attention.
They each took turns kissing my cheek before taking a seat. “Where’s Michael?” my mom asked, pointing to his vacant chair.
“Oh, he’s . . . in the bathroom.” I sucked at lying, though I wasn’t ready to admit the truth, and my mind was too muddled to come up with anything better. At some point, they’d wonder why he hadn’t come out yet, but I figured I’d cross that bridge when we got there.
Before anything else could be said, Kelsey approached the table. She was my best friend, and right now, all I wanted to do was tell her what had happened and cry on her shoulder. Except I couldn’t, because breaking down in the middle of a restaurant would likely come with added attention I didn’t care to have.
Kelsey sat next to me, put the bright-pink gift bag on the floor between us, and regarded the empty seat to my left with a furrowed brow. “Where’s Michael?”
“Bathroom.” I wondered if I’d be able to make it through the rest of the night without saying anything other than a word here and there. Doubtful, but it was a challenge I’d willingly accept.
“Excuse me.” Tanner placed his napkin on the table and slid his chair back. With a courteous nod, he walked away. No one bothered to ask him where he was going or even acted like it was odd that he’d just get up and leave, so I ignored it and returned to the conversation around me—I mean, pretending to listen.
Until Amanda arrived.
She and I worked together, which meant she also worked with Michael—technically, for him, as we all did. We were friends, though not super close. More or less, she was the kind of friend who showed up one day and never left, and her sarcasm made her spot in your life worth it.
“Here you go.” Amanda handed me a small bag and shrugged. “It’s an apron. I didn’t know what else to get you.”
After I set it on the floor with the gift from Kelsey, Tanner returned to the table. But rather than sit, he leaned down to whisper into my ear. “Nod like you’re listening to what I’m telling you.” It was an odd request, but I did as he instructed. “Now, act concerned and ask if he’s okay.”
I had no idea what he was talking about, but I did it anyway. Leaning away from him, I asked, “Is he okay?”
That’s when Tanner slid around the back of my mom’s chair, moving away from me. “He will be.”
“What’s that about? Everything all right?” Mom asked, and the slight smirk on Tanner’s face told me that was the reaction he’d expected.
“Yeah. I ran into Michael in the bathroom. He’s not feeling well. I told him to go home and rest; being around food isn’t the best idea when your stomach is upset. Anyway, Tatum, I told him one of us will drive you back when we’re done. And I’ll get a hotel room for us just in case it’s contagious. We can’t afford to get on a plane with a stomach bug.”
Conversation carried on around the table, each person discussing Michael’s illness, while I just sat there without saying a word. Tanner was aware that something was up, because we both knew he hadn’t seen Michael in the bathroom. This was his way of protecting me like an older brother should. I was thankful for the rescue, though I wasn’t sure how I would play it off once they all found out the truth.
The rest of dinner was a blur. Luckily, Mom managed to entertain the table, which kept anyone from asking questions. I’d lost my appetite, and when my meal arrived, I couldn’t do much more than pick at it. I thought I’d gotten by without suspicion . . . until Kelsey drove me home.
When she pulled into my driveway, she turned off the car and opened her door. Tugging on the sleeve of her shirt, I asked, “Where are you going?”
“If you think I’m going to let him get away with ditching you tonight, you’re crazy.”
“He was sick.” We both knew that was a lie.
And the way she pinned me with a glare told me she had no intention of letting me get away with it. “You’re my best friend, Tater. You might be able to lie to Amanda or your mom or even the waitress, who couldn’t get a simple order right. But not me. I saw it in your eyes the moment I walked in. I don’t have a clue what happened . . . but it was something.”
“It’s fine, Kelsey. Really.”
“No, it’s not. It’s your birthday. And I’m not blind; it’s obvious the asshole was there at some point, because his place setting was used. Which means he left. I don’t care what his reason is for walking out on your birthday dinner; no excuse is good enough. If there had been an emergency at Fathom, you would’ve said something.”
It took immense strength not to cry or break down in front of her. I gripped her hand and forced a smile. “It’s okay, Kels. I appreciate your concern, but it’s not needed.”
Reluctantly, she sat back in the seat. However, just because she’d conceded this point didn’t mean she believed the lie I’d tried to give. “Call me if you need anything. A friend, a couch to sleep on, a shovel and rug, or even an alibi.”
I nodded and stepped out of the car. As soon as the door closed, the knot in my throat grew bigger. As she reversed out of the driveway, my stomach flipped and twisted. And the second I stepped inside, my world came crashing down.
He was gone. Just like he’d said he would be.
I tried to call and let him know that my parents weren’t here, that he could come home and talk about everything. But he declined every attempt, only sending one text to tell me that he would see me the next day. Oh, and to tell me that he loved me.
Because that somehow made everything better.
But I refused to give up hope. Instead, I slept in our bed—alone—and prayed this was fixable. After breakfast with my parents, where I avoided all conversation about Michael, I went straight to work. I knew Michael had gone in before the lunch shift, so he’d be there, unable to avoid this any longer.
Except, he did avoid it. He claimed to be too busy to talk. The most I got out of him was that he wasn’t ready for something so serious, and until last night, he’d thought he would be able to work through it. Apparently, he couldn’t, yet that didn’t mean he didn’t love me. And by the time my shift ended, he had already left.
Thank God for Kelsey.
As soon as she opened the door to her apartment, I said, “I hate the words I love you. I never want to hear them again. From anyone. They don’t mean anything to me.” But the one thing that gave away just how upset I was, was the hug I took from her—likely catching her by surprise considering I wasn’t a hugger . . . at all.
Grabbing my duffel bag from the floor next to my feet, she ushered me inside. She didn’t bother to ask what was wrong, just poured the wine and waited until I filled her in. By the end of the night, we’d agreed that I would move into the spare room. The one thing we didn’t agree on was my job at Michael’s restaurant.
I decided to remain at Fathom 216 because I’d worked my way up the line to sauté chef. My dream was to be sous chef, and as it stood, I was next in line for that position in our kitchen. If I left, I’d have to start all over under a new executive chef. I’d made it too far to let that dream slip away.
Okay, so there might’ve been another reason behind my decision to stay. A very small facet. One I had vehemently denied to Kelsey—I wanted Michael back. I mean, you don’t spend two and a half years with a person and just forget all the good times you had together.
Although, that was exactly what it seemed Michael had done.
Less than six months later, a new pastry chef showed up in the kitchen. A cute little blonde with a bubbly personality. She was sweet and friendly . . . and Michael Shae’s new girlfriend.
1
Jason
They say there’s one in every family.
Well, they lied, because I had an entire family full of them.
The best part? I was a thirty-one-year-old man living with my recently widowed mother until I found a job and a place of my own . . . and I was the normal one. Granted, I had just moved to town a few days ago, a couple of months earlier than inte
nded, so at least I could say my situation was temporary.
But the others? I was afraid they didn’t stand a chance.
On a positive note, they were great people with big hearts and even bigger personalities. And with pure intentions, even when inconvenient. Such as the barbecue Aunt Diane and Uncle Fred had decided to throw “in my honor” as if they were the welcome committee. When I’d tried to get out of it, they’d resorted to guilt trips, making me feel bad for ruining a family gathering meant to celebrate my return to Samson.
The one thing they’d left out was that they had these lunches every Sunday. They had just decided to claim there was a reason for this one, and then used that reason to make me attend.
“Oh, it’s so good to see you.” Aunt Diane wound her arms tightly around my neck, acting like she hadn’t just seen me yesterday when she’d stopped by my mom’s house for coffee. Or the day before, when I’d come over for dinner. Or the day before that, when I’d gotten into town.
I couldn’t say much, though, considering it had been years since I’d last come home. After heading off to college, I’d basically left this small town behind. The only reason I had seen Mom and Bill so much over the last thirteen years was because they’d gone to Nevada to see me. I’d always kept up with my family, but only from a distance.
Aunt Diane released me from her embrace and tugged me inside by my hand. “Your cousins are so excited to see you. Marlena and her clan might be a little late, but Kelsey should be here soon.”
I closed the front door behind me and glanced up, noticing my mother. She had left the house this morning while I was out, so I hadn’t seen her until now. “Ma! What happened to your face?”
Knitting her brows in utter confusion, Mom pressed her fingertips to her cheek and asked, “What do you mean?”
I moved closer and squinted, as if trying to see clearer. Her skin was covered with some sort of caked-on flesh-colored cream. When I ran my finger along her cheekbone, I was left with a shimmery bronze powder on my hand.
“What is this?”
“Oh, that? It’s makeup.”
I blinked a few times, but Mom just laughed and tried to brush me off.
The (Half) Truth Page 1
