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

by A. M. Wilson

  “Me too,” Law adds.

  “One was being built,” I mutter to Law. “And you were busy with your new family.”

  Nathan shakes his head at my lame excuse. “We’re your friends. That’s crap.”

  “Yeah.” I roll my glass between my palms and study the dark grains of wood running the length of the bar. “Wouldn’t have met Evie, though.”

  “You’re not saying…” Nathan lets the thought trail off.

  “Yep. Met her there too. We developed a fast friendship sharing meals and sleeping in our cars next to each other.”

  Law sips his drink and smacks his lips together. “You ever let Cami and Kiersten know that, and they’re going to go ballistic on your ass.”

  “I don’t intend on it, and you shouldn’t say anything either. Evie’s embarrassed to let anyone know.”

  Nathan pushes his empty bottle toward Dane. “How’s she doing, by the way?”

  “I haven’t spoken to her yet. She wants space, and I intend to give it to her.”

  Law snorts. “When Cami took off on me, I had to wait fourteen years to get her back.”

  “Helpful,” I grunt. Dane grabs the bottle of whiskey and angles it above my empty glass. “Thanks.”

  “No problem.” Dane swaps the bottle in his hand with another glass that needs drying. “Do you really think she’s coming back?”

  “I fucking hope so. My attorney said until the divorce decree is finalized, it’s not a good idea to leave the state for any period of time. Taking Tommy along could be considered kidnapping, and leaving him with a babysitter could be abandonment. If Nora found out, I wouldn’t put it past her to try to fuck me over one last time.”

  “Didn’t Nora already do that?” That question comes from Nathan.

  “She sure did. Abandoned me, abandoned our son. But she can change her mind until the damn ink touches the paper.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  A group of rowdy college-aged girls enters the bar, disrupting the quiet environment. I lean closer to hear my friends.

  “Wait. Work on selling the house. Actually, I have an idea I could use your guys’ help with. Evie is adamantly against taking any money from me, but I’ll be damned if she returns to Arrow Creek to continue sleeping in her car.”

  “Another stubborn-ass woman, huh? And I thought Kiersten was bad.” Nathan chuckles.

  “What do you need from us?” Law asks.

  “Tools and expertise. Also, your time.” My phone rings from my back pocket, disrupting the discussion of my plans. I dig it out hurriedly, but my gut turns to stone at the unfamiliar number on the screen. Not Evie calling. I answer anyway.

  “Hello?”

  “She doesn’t know I’m calling you.”

  “Caiti?” I rise from my stool without sparing the guys a glance to find quiet outside. The warm summer air feels pleasant.

  “She told me what happened. Totally broke down and confessed when she got here. I thought someone should let you know she’s safe.”

  “I want you to know how incredibly sorry I am.” I approach the patio railing and lean on the weathered wood with my weight on my forearms.

  “Thank you,” she whispers, her voice thick.

  “I called Eric’s phone a bit ago.” I wince on his name and forge on. “Tate answered. Same idea you had calling me, but I didn’t know your number.”

  “Oh. You should know you don’t have anything to worry about. He’s here because he was Eric’s best friend.”

  “I know.”

  “You should also know I’ve seen the way she looks at you. If you didn’t already know, her heart is in your hands.”

  “I know.” I stop her from saying more. “But this isn’t about that. I appreciate you calling and letting me know she’s safe. Now go take care of each other until she’s ready to come home. I can wait.”

  “I’ll get her back to you as soon as I can.”

  “Don’t rush on my account,” I reassure her.

  “I’m rushing on hers. I don’t want her to waste a single second.”

  Her words strike me like a sledgehammer. The thought of losing Evie settles a tight feeling in my throat.

  “You’re welcome to come back with her. I hope you know that we’d be happy to have you.”

  “She’s coming. I have to go.” Caiti avoids addressing my invitation and instead hangs up the phone.

  I save her number and tuck my cell back into my pocket. Rather than rush back inside, I clasp my hands and hang my head, welcoming the stillness of the night. The sounds of leaves rustling accompany a gentle breeze.

  Alone, bathed in the yellow patio lights and the twinkling stars, I feel it.

  Now I need to make sure Evie can feel it too.

  “Everything all right?” Nathan steps up beside me and extends my glass. I take a welcome drink.

  “Uh, yeah. As right as it can be with the woman I’m falling for somewhere across the country.”

  “You know if becoming a husband and a dad didn’t turn me into such a sap, I’d be giving you so much shit right about now.”

  “I’d probably take it. I never expected this, you know? After Nora. I thought I was perfectly fine hooking up when I needed it. Forget trusting another woman again. Then Evie came out of nowhere, and I can’t imagine being with anyone else.”

  He gazes off into the trees. “I know exactly how that feels. But with Kiersten, I wanted to fight it. Admitting to myself I loved someone other than my dead wife felt so wrong. But you…” He claps me on the shoulder and gives it a shake. “You’re all in.”

  “I’m all in.”

  “Fastest a man has fallen in this town.”

  I shrug his hand off my shoulder and reciprocate with a shove against his. “Oh, fuck off. You knocked your wife up the first time you slept with her. Deny it all you want, but the moment you found out she was pregnant, you were all in too.”

  “Damn right.” He drains the rest of his beer. “So what’s this big idea you wanted our help with?”

  “Let’s go back inside. It’s an all-hands-on-deck situation.”

  One I hope can finally convince Evie to stay by my side.

  When she’s ready, that is.

  29

  Evie

  Today, I wear black.

  Besides my work pants, I avoid black. It’s my least favorite color. I was often told growing up how black was a slimming color. That wearing dark fabrics could hide more of my figure. But I didn’t want to hide. I wanted to wear colors as loud as my personality and be seen.

  Wearing black today of all days feels wrong because Eric’s life should be a celebration, but I wear the dress I hastily shoved into my carry-on because grief holds me in its clutches. I don’t want to be seen as bright and loud today.

  I apply a stroke of my favorite earthy red lipstick to my lips and pull my curls into a messy bun at my nape. One glance at my reflection shows my undereye circles are more pronounced after nights of restless sleep. I’ll cover them with big sunglasses rather than apply makeup I’ll probably cry off later.

  As I drop my lipstick tube back into my clutch purse, my phone lights up from the jostling. The empty notifications send a pang of sadness through me. I should call Rhett and apologize for leaving. For letting the fear and sadness rule my motivation.

  Tate steps into view, his sad features reflecting mine in the mirror. We lock eyes for a second before I look away and shut my purse. I clear my throat.

  “I’m almost ready.”

  “You look beautiful.”

  I whirl on the ball of my foot to face him. “Don’t.” The quiet words hold a warning.

  Tucking his hands into his pockets, he leans against the doorframe. “We need to talk.”

  A million and one words rise to the surface. Things I should have said but didn’t. Things I regret. What stands out most is the lack of any deep emotions in regards to this man.

  “We should leave well enough alone.”

  “I mi
ss you.” His voice cracks. “And I fucked up.”

  “We both fucked up,” I say gently, knowing my part in our split was near fifty-fifty.

  “I know.”

  The easiness of his agreement causes me to snort. “I’m glad you’re willing to share the blame.”

  I move to the guest bed I’ve been sleeping on and grab my shoes from my open bag. The flat strappy black sandals will be perfect for walking around today. I cross one leg over the other knee and slide my foot into one shoe.

  Tate moves quickly in front of me, dropping to a knee and putting his hand on my foot.

  “Let me.”

  I jolt and stand, the half-attached shoe falling to the hardwood floor with a thud. “No.” I stare down at his position below me. “Do not touch me, and do not mistake my grief as weakness. Losing my brother is not an invitation for you to get me back.”

  He collapses back on his ass. “I know you’re not weak. But losing Eric has opened my eyes to how short life really is, and I don’t want to waste any more of mine without you.”

  I snatch my fallen shoe and move away, planting a hand in the foot of the bed for balance as I slide them on.

  “It’s opened my eyes too, but I see nowhere in my future that you fit.”

  “Evie…”

  “I’m with someone else.”

  “I know,” he states with finality.

  My brows pinch together. “You know?”

  “Here.” He stands and digs something out of his back pocket. At his approach, my instincts send warning flares to back up, but the bed at my back blocks any escape. A white envelope is placed in my hands, and when he curls my fingers around it, I let him. His warm hand wraps around mine and holds tight.

  “Please let go of me.”

  “I know about the money. I know about the debt. This is my half. You should have told me.” He dips his head to catch my attention that drifts to the envelope in my hands. The apology in his blue eyes is about six months too late. “I’m sorry for not paying attention. I’m sorry I missed what you were going through and leaving you to make hard decisions on your own.”

  “How did you know?”

  He gives a one-shouldered shrug. “You didn’t change your address on the credit card statements. When Eric wouldn’t give me a forwarding address, I eventually opened one to see if you needed any help.”

  I pull back with the envelope clutched in my hand. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

  “And you should have told me.” He nods his head to my hands. “Don’t fight that. Just take it.”

  My inclination is to hand it back, to fight, to do it on my own, but he’s not wrong. Life is hard enough without my stubbornness making it harder, something I’ve realized recently.

  I don’t have to do it all by myself. Not anymore.

  And Eric’s heated encouragement about asking Tate to pay half comes back to me. It was the last thing we discussed before he left. The last time I saw him healthy and whole and alive. For my brother, I let this battle go.

  “Thank you. For this.” I hold up the envelope and tuck it in my purse. “And for the apology.”

  Tate looks away and wipes the corner of his eye with his thumb. “Does he make you happy?”

  I inhale long and slow through my nose. My head tilts, and I give him a watery smile. “He makes me incredibly happy.”

  “Good. We, um, we should get going.”

  “I’ll be just a minute.”

  I watch him walk away without another word.

  I return to my bag to apply a light layer of sunscreen over my exposed arms and face, then plop my oversized sunglasses on top of my head. No matter how much I try to prepare myself for what’s up ahead, I’ll never be ready to face this day.

  Four hours later, Caiti and I roam arm in arm down a sandy beach, clutching our sandals between our fingers. Tate trails us, lost to his own thoughts after the long, emotional afternoon. Seagulls caw overhead, occasionally swooping down to retrieve scraps of food as kids laugh and throw more.

  “Our last stop.” I shield my forehead from the penetrating sunrays and gaze at the long wooden dock fifty feet ahead of us. Caiti’s arm reflexively squeezes mine.

  I turn to her. “Are you ready?”

  The color drains from her face as panic envelops her.

  “I’m not ready.” She clutches the final pink rose against her chest.

  I stand solid beside her as Tate takes up her other side.

  “Take your time. We can wait.”

  She chokes on a hitched breath. “You’re already getting sunburned.”

  A peek at my exposed arm has me agreeing with her assessment. “This red hair and pale skin can’t stand sunlight for shit, but I’ll be fine.”

  “I just need a minute.” She inhales sharply at my side, indicating more than one might be necessary, but I’m fine. She can have twenty-nine if she wants. One for each year he was alive.

  The minute I arrived three days ago, Caiti told me she didn’t want a memorial service. Eric wouldn’t have wanted to lie in a casket for people he hasn’t seen in years to walk by and cry over his body. She chose to have him cremated and created a plan to celebrate his life today with the people who meant most to him.

  This morning, I ran out to pick up pink roses, twenty-nine single stems, one for each year of life in the color of her wedding bouquet. The three of us set off on a journey to visit every one of Eric’s favorite places—some that held cherished memories—and left a rose discreetly at each one.

  We started the day with brunch at Eric’s favorite restaurant, followed by some of their favorite date spots. After a particularly heavy moment at the shop where Eric purchased Caiti’s engagement ring with the help of Tate, we swung by Eric’s favorite brewery for beer flights to soften the mood. Together, we celebrated memories of my brother, of stupid injuries and drunken nights, and toasted to a life well lived and beyond loved.

  Our last stop brought us here, to the dock I’d once decorated in white ribbon and tulle, and stood by as my favorite person in the world got down on one knee and promised the rest of his life to the woman he loved.

  A promise he ultimately fulfilled.

  “Ready,” Caiti whispers at my side. Her watery voice shakes the foundation of my crumbling strength.

  “Okay.”

  I reach across my torso to clutch her bicep in my other hand. The first step is the hardest as more cracks form. My throat tightens as if caught in an unforgiving fist. Each breath feels like I’m underwater.

  The weather-worn wood is warm beneath my bare feet. I follow Caiti’s lead. Each place has been a unique experience without a plan, and we’ve let her heart be our guide. The uncomfortable hot rays of the afternoon sun on my neck disappear from my mind as we reach the end. My mind flashes back to that day all those years ago when she stops in the exact place she stood. The wind whips her dress around her knees, bringing with it the scent of lake water and warm sand, and tears flow freely down her cheeks.

  Caiti falls to her knees, nearly bringing me down with her as my own heart shatters. She clutches the final rose and drops her forehead onto the planks.

  Tate rushes around me as I stand rooted. Echoing her sentiment, I unleash an internal scream for the unfairness. I can’t be here anymore. I thought I could do this and support her, but the pain spreads like fire in my veins.

  I turn to flee, but my feet stay fixed to the spot. Rhett stands stoically at the end of the dock.

  My shoes fall from dangling fingertips as I take off in a sprint. The sound of my footsteps thunder along the wood. I don’t even care to ask how or why he’s here. All that matters at this moment is that I reach him.

  His long strides close his side of the distance, and he meets me halfway. I throw myself bodily into his wide chest, burrowing deep, clutching at the back of his neatly pressed blue button-up shirt as I try to climb inside.

  “I’ve got you,” he says, tangling his fingers into the bun at my nape and holding my cheek t
ight to his chest.

  “How are you here?”

  “Caiti thought you might need me.” His chest beneath my ear rumbles with his response.

  I dig in deeper, feeling some of the pain leak from me at his touch. “I want to come home,” I mumble the confession into his tear-dampened shirt. “I’ve missed you, and I don’t want to do this alone.”

  He strokes his hand over the crown of my head. “Home is waiting when you’re ready. I can’t stay long. You’re welcome to come back with me or stay as long as you like, but I can’t handle the silence when you’re hundreds of miles away.”

  “I still have things to figure out.” I tip my face into the sunrays as the full weight of my choices settles on me.

  “You can have all the space you need to come to your decisions.”

  “Then I want to come home with you.”

  His large palms cover my jaw on either side, the thumbs stroking the hollow of my cheeks. The full force of the desire in his eyes punches a hole in my protective walls. “God, I’ve missed you.”

  My lips press into the edge of my teeth as he takes them in a bruising kiss. His tongue dips into my open mouth, and I fight to force mine into his. After days apart, the anguish and pain of loss, of nights spent alone in a cold bed, I want to taste him. I want to breathe him and drink him in, knowing firsthand how fleeting life has become.

  Rhett wraps one arm around the small of my back, dipping me slightly as he takes over again. A groan reverberates in his chest, vibrating beneath my palms. We’re both breathless as we part. The sound of our panting breaths washes away with the gentle waves below the dock.

  Hearing the approaching footsteps urge me to turn in his arms. My back fits against his front like a piece of a puzzle. His arm crosses over my front, angled in a possessive hold. Caiti and Tate approach, and at her blotchy expression, I pull free to take her into my arms.

  “I’m so sorry I walked away. I couldn’t—” I choke against threatening tears and rub her back to distract myself. “The memories…” I try and fail again.

  Her arms wrap around me unexpectedly tight. “Go be with your man.”

  I hold her back. “You asked him to come.”