What Tears Us Down: A Single Dad Standalone Romance (Arrow Creek Book 3)

by A. M. Wilson

  “You know, this isn’t so bad. When I set out on my own and moved here, I never would have thought of cleaning houses for income. It’s genius!” Cami rinses her sponge in the sink.

  I rub my forearm across my forehead. “If I can build up enough clients, it should be a pretty steady career.”

  “Is that where you went when I watched Ghost? I’m sorry if I’m prying. Tell me to stop.”

  “She’s nosy, but she means no harm,” Kiersten adds.

  A smile touches my lips. “That was my very first client. Thank you again, by the way. It helped so much. Now I need to figure out a more permanent solution.”

  “Oh no, you don’t. We’re happy to watch her anytime. Between myself, my daughter, and my husband, we can have you covered.”

  “Did someone summon me?” A deep voice echoes from the hall, followed closely by another incredibly handsome man appearing in the doorway. He also has long strands on top of his head, but instead of a rich brown, the hair is nearly black. Creases surround his eyes from either years of laughter or days in the sun. Judging by his tan, I’d guess the latter. His broad shoulders nearly fill the doorframe as he looks down at Cami adoringly. She moves straight into his chest.

  “I was just telling my new friend Evie we’d be happy to watch her dog anytime she needs.”

  At the mention of my name, his attention pins me to the floor as the most piercing blue eyes I’ve ever seen come to rest on mine.

  What. Is. In. The. Water. Here.

  He jerks his head to indicate the space behind him. “Met your dog back there. She’s sweet. We’d be glad to have her.”

  “That’s really kind. Thank you both.”

  “I’m Law,” he adds.

  “Evie.”

  “Been hearing about you, Evie. Nice to meet you.” He rocks back on his heels.

  My curiosity is piqued about what Rhett’s been saying. Growing up with my brother and Tate, I know guys can gossip just as good as women can. I can’t imagine what all Rhett would have to say after knowing me for only a week.

  With a kiss on Cami’s forehead, he retreats as quickly as he arrived.

  “Would it be weird to be your new friend and also hire you? Because you’re doing a kick-ass job, and I have a new house to clean before I can move into it.” Kiersten brushes her fingers along the cheek of the now sleeping baby. I quickly move my attention back to her face.

  “Definitely not weird. I’d be thrilled, actually. I can run back later with a contract, and we can discuss rates.”

  “Oh, bring one for me too.” Cami tosses her sponge in the sink. We’ve finished everything but the floors, which come last. “Lord knows teenagers, even the best ones, clean like crap.”

  “I’ll take your word for it and bring another contract.”

  11

  Rhett

  The moment I see my son’s face, a load lightens from my chest. The toddler beams in my direction and thrusts his hands in front of him, wiggling to be set down. Nora’s scowl is nothing out of the ordinary as she finally acquiesces to his demand and places him on his feet. The second he’s on solid ground, it’s go time for the little guy, and he runs my way.

  I scoop him up, my first embrace in a week, and hold him extra close as he tucks his head beneath my chin. My eyes slowly close as I soak him in.

  “Hey, big man. Daddy missed you.” I ignore the tap of Nora’s heels coming closer.

  “Dadda hugs!” he says with enthusiasm, putting together a sentence I haven’t heard before.

  Fuck. My eyes pop open at this new development I’ve missed. I want to ask her if she’s spending a lot of time with him. If she’s reading to him every night to help build his vocabulary. If she talks to him as she goes about her day so he can hear words being spoken when it’s just the two of them at home. We’ve argued many times about putting him into daycare for the development. It would help him to be around other adults and kids, but she’s refused. I’m skeptical that her refusal isn’t simply out of spite. Another of many angles I’m trying to work out in our custody agreement.

  She stops two feet away and stares, giving the impression she’s working up the nerve to say something. Too bad for her, I’m not interested in her brand of deception and manipulation.

  “Bag, please.”

  She clutches the strap slung across her chest tighter as if I’m about to physically rip it away.

  “Can we talk?”

  My body locks in order not to rear back at the asinine question. “Not without my lawyer present.”

  “I won’t take much of your time, but I think we have some things to work out.”

  “No shi…duh.” I catch myself before tarnishing the little ears in proximity. “We have to work everything out because of this little game of yours.”

  “It’s not a game,” she hisses quietly, too proud to make much of a scene in a public place. This works in my favor to subdue a full-blown argument. Not that I have much of a reputation to tarnish in this town. I did that already by bed-hopping.

  “You have the papers from my lawyer?”

  “You know I do.”

  “And do you agree to the terms yet?”

  “No, I—”

  “Then I don’t know what more you want. It’s laid out. It’s fair, and you’re getting way more than you deserve for what you did. You know that’s a fact. So unless you’re here to tell me you’re accepting or you’re walking away from this fight, either of which will be fine by me, we have nothing to discuss until we get in front of a judge.”

  She rears back as if I forced her to, and that hurts like a punch to the gut. I’m not the type of man to intimidate a woman to get what I want. Her display reveals even more things wrong with our relationship. She’s never had a reason to fear me, and she doesn’t have one now.

  “I don’t want to do this with a judge. I just want to talk.”

  “That’s bull. We’ve had mediation to talk, and you refuse to budge an inch. I don’t know what else I can throw at you to make you just go away. Now give me the bag.”

  The black duffel hits the floor with an audible thud, drawing attention from the front desk. I fight against remarking at her dramatic flair.

  “I’ll be here at noon to pick him up tomorrow.”

  Give her a damn inch, and she’s still ungrateful.

  When she asked to push my day to allow her mother to see him while she visited from out of town, I should have said no. For the sake of our son, I agreed to the adjustment. A lesser man would throw that fact in her face with the attitude she can’t help but kick around, but I pride myself on being a good man.

  Without a word, I snag the strap of the bag and head toward the elevator bank.

  “Sucker?”

  I look down at my son in surprise. “Did you learn a new word, bub?”

  He places a chubby palm against my stubbled cheek and turns my face to his. Those big, brown eyes bore into my identical ones. If I had a free hand, I’d rub the ache from my sternum.

  “Sucker…pwease?”

  Another sentence. He’s remembered that I started carrying suckers a few weeks ago to have on hand as a treat. Living out of a vehicle leaves few options for storing perishable snacks. While I try to take him out during our time together, it’s nice to have something on hand. He’s growing more by the day, and I’m forced to miss half of it. The bitter pill sticks in my throat. I swallow the lump down before I can respond.

  “Sure, bud. Did you eat all your lunch?”

  His sandy hair flies as he nods vigorously, eliciting a chuckle I didn’t know I could conjure after that discussion with his mom. We step off the elevator on our floor, and I set him on unsteady legs to toddle down the hall.

  My phone dings just as I reach our room. First, I fish out the key, and then I grab my phone. Tommy smacks my leg as he waits for the door to open. I hold it wide so he doesn’t get pinched on his way inside. Another rich laugh warms me as he immediately plops onto his diapered butt and tries pulling his
shoes off.

  “You got it. Pull harder,” I encourage, not ready to step in and take over the task. My phone buzzes again, a reminder of the unread text. A spurt of irritation strikes. I refuse to waste time on my phone during the short intervals I have my son.

  Evie: Want to meet for dinner at 5?

  Visions of Evie sleeping alone in the gas station parking lot infiltrate my thoughts. She didn’t come close to crossing my mind when Nora asked me to switch days. Realizing this is the first time with my son since I met Evie hits like a ton of bricks. The protective man in me is half a second from calling to demand she meets us here.

  I drop my gaze to the little boy near my feet with one shoe still on. I can’t do that to him. This is our time together. It wouldn’t be fair to bring over a woman I’ve known for only a week.

  The need to check in with her demolishes any doubt, and I find myself hitting the call button before I can think it through.

  “Hey.” Her breathless voice comes across the line after a single ring.

  “I saw your text. Are you at work?”

  “Yeah. I have a couple of hours left, but thought I could ask Cami to watch Ghost a little longer so we could grab a bite to eat in town instead of eating in one of our cars tonight.” The humor floats clearly over the line. Her ability not to wallow in her situation astounds me at times. Most women I know would have a hard time escaping their own self-pity, but not Evie. I’d even say she’s enjoying this adventure she’s on.

  “I can’t.” I pause to watch Tommy climb to his feet and wander across the room to the windows. The air-conditioner unit blows his hair from his eyes. A belly-aching giggle bursts free. “I won’t be there tonight. I have my son.”

  “Oh! Don’t let me keep you from him. I’ll see you when I see you.”

  “Evie, wait. Where are you sleeping tonight?” Fuck. The obvious question slips free.

  “I’ll be at the gas station.” Her puzzled response comes across as I would have imagined. Where else would she be sleeping? I prop a hand on my hip and drop my chin to my chest, eyes aimed at the worn blue carpet.

  “Don’t go until after you pick up Ghost. And don’t shower tonight. Or if you need a shower, I can ask one of the girls if you can stop by their house. Better yet, just ask Cami if you can use hers. Tell her yours is broken or something—”

  “Rhett—”

  “You still have your knife? Make sure it’s close when you go to sleep.”

  “Rhett—”

  “Maybe you should just come here. We have an extra bed,” I muse aloud.

  “Rhett! I’m going to be fine.”

  As I shake my head, my hand leaves my hip to stroke the back of my neck. Heat from embarrassment creeps up. “You are, aren’t you?”

  I’m about certain I can picture the cock of her hip when she says, “This isn’t my first night out alone.”

  A huff of laughter precedes my breath. “I’m sorry if I’m being weird. Now that I know you, it’s hard to leave you out there alone. I wouldn’t do it for any of my closest friends. I feel… guilty sleeping in a hotel room while you’re in your car.”

  “We’re as safe as ever out here. You need to spend that energy on your son. Don’t worry about me, okay?” Her soothing tone just makes me wish even more I could be near her. To search her face for signs of a lie.

  “Tomorrow, I’m buying you pancakes for lunch to make up for it.”

  It’s her turn to laugh. “Whatever helps you sleep better tonight.”

  “More than I’d rather admit, it’s going to be hard.”

  Her sharp intake of breath is audible. Before she can respond, the sound of a door slamming comes through the line.

  “Gotta go. My client just pulled in.”

  Before I can issue any more instructions for her safety, the connection severs.

  Tommy bangs on the air conditioner unit. “Sucker?”

  The smile cutting my face is instantaneous. “Yeah, bub.” I reach into my pocket and pull out the small selection. “Which color?”

  He runs over and jabs a finger at one in the middle.

  “Green. Good choice.”

  “Geen,” he repeats with a bob of his head.

  “That’s right.” I scoop him into my arms and set him in the center of the bed. “Now sit nice and eat your sucker. When you’re done, we can go for a swim.”

  The easy access to a pool each week has been a blessing in disguise. The little guy loves the water, and I’ve spent more than one summer on a boat or a beach. Teaching him water safety at a young age will only expand our activities when we’re together.

  And having something to occupy my mind will quiet thoughts about Evie.

  12

  Evie

  The patio at the back of Calypso’s glows from string lights dangling from the awning and lanterns lit in the center of the square tables. The balmy breeze is welcome after the heat of today. Ghost moves close to my side as we enter the black wrought-iron fence and walk the perimeter to a table near the back with a single occupant. I’m thankful Rhett chose someplace with a patio to eat dinner tonight so my dog could come, but the fiery frustration inside will determine if our evening can be salvaged.

  He spots me before I’m close enough to kick out the leg of his chair and send him sprawling to the ground. Not that I’d take things that far. The image in my head of the action is enough to stretch a thin smile across my face. His reciprocating smirk has a flash of guilt stabbing me. The genuine pleasure at the sight of my appearance douses the heat a little.

  “Cami said the two of you had a really nice time today.” He rises to pull out my chair. The legs scrape against the paved patio stones. He’s making it hard to remain mad.

  I tap Ghost into position to lie beneath the table. She flops onto her side—legs stretched out, nose up, and tongue lolled—as the breeze blows across her face. My dog is more relaxed than me. Rather than lean across the table into his face like I want, I remain upright with my hands loose at my sides.

  “Did you tell Cami I live out of my car?” The question grinds out with the force required to keep my tone controlled.

  “What?” Rhett’s brows slash.

  I wet my lips with my tongue. “I asked if you happened to let it slip to your friends that I’m homeless and poor.”

  “I didn’t say it quite like that.” The wind brushes a lock of hair across his forehead, which he hastily swipes away.

  “Chess is the only game I like to play, Rhett.”

  “I’m not playing games.”

  I press my weight into my heels to keep from stomping my foot. My nostrils flare. “Did you or did you not state, imply, or otherwise to your friends that I’m hard up for cash?”

  He holds my gaze steadily. “I mentioned that you only had a client or two and were in the early stages of getting your business off the ground.”

  If I ask another question, it’s not going to come out as nicely. I might actually growl like a damn animal.

  “And I may have said that you were saving for a place to stay,” he finishes softly.

  “You did not,” I grind out.

  An approaching waitress buys him time with his response. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “A vodka soda with extra limes,” I respond without losing eye contact with Rhett. Now would be a particularly good time to be equipped with lasers because I’m not sure he’s grasping how upset I am about this.

  “Whiskey, neat. Put it on my tab.”

  A noise gets strangled in the back of my throat at the audacity.

  The waitress leaves, but the unspoken revelation lingers between us.

  “So is sleeping in your Jeep in an empty parking lot just a hobby?”

  Rhett’s torso rears back as if I struck him. “You know it isn’t,” he growls.

  Tired of standing, I hook my foot around the leg to my chair and yank it out, dropping heavily into the seat. “I don’t need you to pay for my drink. Thanks to whatever you told your friend
s, I have enough cash for the entire week.”

  “You’re getting it all wrong. I think we need to step back and regroup before things get too far gone.”

  “I get that we’re different, you and me.” I go on as if he hadn’t spoken. “You have money. How much? I don’t need or care to know. The status of your situation has a clear expiration date, and you’re holding on until you reach it. I get that, can appreciate it even, but we’re not the same.”

  “I know we’re not the same.”

  “Then I figured you’d appreciate that I also don’t require charity. I work hard. I enjoy putting in the effort. Handouts aren’t my endgame here.”

  Rhett reaches across the table and places his hand on top of mine. The warmth seeps through and instantly cools some of my ire. I wouldn’t admit it out loud, but I miss this. The physical touch of another human being, whether friendly or something more. What I wouldn’t give for a simple hug from my brother right now.

  Crap. The thought stings my eyes with unshed tears.

  “We’re not the same, but we’re alike in more ways than you realize.”

  “Can you explain to me what you would do if your client handed you a stack of cash worth four times the work you did that day? Because of her alone, I can afford food for an entire month.” That’s not including the high wage Nora’s been paying me. I’m nearly saved up for a month’s rent already.

  His thumb strokes my knuckles and reminds me we’re still touching. I pull away and turn my head to the side, scratching the side of my nose with my thumb to disguise a sniffle.

  “I can see why that would make you uncomfortable, but I hope you accepted it. They’re great, well-meaning people. And they want to be your friends.”

  The waitress delivers our drinks. I take a hefty sip while I wait for her to retreat from earshot.

  “Are you embarrassed by me?” I ask the question gnawing my insides. What else explains why he felt the need to explain my circumstances to his friends. He could easily play the part of the brave knight riding in on his four-wheeled horse to save the plus-sized damsel in poverty.