Lucille laughed and slid Mr. Wykowski a sidelong look.
He shook his head at her but smiled and winked again.
Her grandma winked back. “Well, what does it really matter,” she asked Callie, “when it feels new?”
Well, she had Callie there. And she was thrilled for her grandma. She was. But not everyone would be lucky enough to find such a relationship. In fact, the odds were stacked against it. “It’s nice, what you’ve found, Grandma.”
“Hey, I didn’t ‘find’ it,” her grandma said. “We worked our butts off for it. You think it’s easy? It’s the polar opposite. Men don’t put the toilet seats down. They don’t get the importance of putting the toothpaste cap back on. And they certainly don’t understand why it’s disgusting to drink right out of the milk container. Some things you just gotta let go of.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Mr. Wykowski said, smiling as he brought them each a mug of coffee.
Lucille ignored him. “Look at your own parents,” she said to Callie. “They’ve been together for forty years. Forty years of joy and selfish-but-genuine happiness. Which means that you yourself grew up in a house full of love. How did that not rub off on you? Have you forgotten?”
“No. I—” Callie broke off. “I’m sorry. I’m still processing. You and Mr. Wykowski?”
“Told you,” she said. “I’ve had lots of love in my lifetime.”
“You hid it well.”
“I hid nothing.” She smiled. “I kept waiting for you to read between the lines.”
“You said he was just a friend.”
“Yeah,” her grandma said. “He’s the kind of friend that you and Tanner are, apparently.”
Callie rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hand, but nope, the images were stuck in her brain. “Grandma, tell me the truth. Are you okay?”
“If I tell you yes, are you going to use that as an excuse to leave town?”
Callie stared at her. “Please, just answer the question.”
“I maybe sometimes pretended to not be okay to keep you here,” Lucille said. “Which I believe makes me wicked and deceitful, but not crazy. And if you’re being honest with yourself, you already knew this.”
True. To the bone true. “I’ve got to go.”
“To San Francisco?”
“I should say yes,” Callie said.
Lucille, confident, happy, grinned. “Take the leftover brownies, honey. They were made by Leah with love. Not as good as I made back in the seventies, but love wasn’t the key ingredient in mine and they frown upon those nowadays. Anyway, these’ll do nicely. Maybe some of that love will wear off on you by digestion.”
Halfway back to her apartment, Callie took a detour and drove past her childhood home. It was a small row house, on a long street of others just like it.
Her parents had sold it a decade ago when Callie had gone off to college and they’d retired and moved to Palm Springs.
Another family lived in it now, and she had no idea why she was even here. Especially since not all the memories were good ones.
Lucille had been right, her parents had loved each other, and her. Still did. But they’d been much older than most of her classmates’ parents, and not particularly active.
Without siblings, Callie had spent many lonely days and weeks, even months alone during the summer when her friends had been on vacay with their families.
Her parents, being as reserved as they were, had never questioned why Callie had spent so much time by herself. Nor had they ever encouraged her to engage in social activities, or play sports, or anything like that.
At the time, it’d simply been her life, and she hadn’t given it much thought. But now, looking back, she wished they’d given her a push, at least a little one.
But it’d been Lucille who’d pushed her out of the nest and into the real world.
As Callie sat there lost in her past, two little girls came out of the house. They were clearly twins, with matching red hair and toothless grins as they raced each other across the grass. One was in all pink, the other in a variety of mismatched clothes, but together they let out peals of laughter as they ran.
Not quiet, not shy.
The sight made Callie smile. Thankfully history didn’t always repeat itself.
From across the street, a boy about the same age as the girls joined them. The twins stopped cold a moment, looked at each other, and then seemed to have some sort of silent communication between them because they let the boy join them.
Callie thought about Eric. He’d been her boy across the street. She’d latched onto him from the day he’d moved in. He hadn’t been a nerd like her, but he wasn’t a jock either. They’d bonded quickly, and he’d been her first real boyfriend. He’d made her laugh, made her heart pound, and, best yet, he’d paid attention to her.
She’d really believed it was love, true love. The forever-after kind of love.
Looking back, she could admit it hadn’t been. She’d fitted him into the mold that she’d needed, not worried about what would happen when he couldn’t possibly live up to her expectations.
And he hadn’t.
Now she no longer had expectations at all. And yet sitting there thinking too hard, she suddenly realized that wasn’t any healthier.
The kids had started a game of tag and were having the time of their lives. Callie sat there watching and…aching.
She loved her parents, she really did. They’d given her a roof over her head, clothes and food, and they’d done their absolute best. She knew this. She didn’t blame them for their shortcomings any more than they blamed her for hers. But she swore to herself right then and there that if she ever got lucky enough to have her own family, she’d do more for them. She’d be in her kids’ lives every step of the way, and she’d give them guidance and—
Whoa.
Was she actually sitting here contemplating someday when she’d have a husband and kids? In just over three weeks of a renewed crush on Tanner, she was suddenly thinking this way? Good Lord. Of all people, she knew better.
Way better.
Most relationships didn’t end up with a fairy-tale ending. She saw that every single day at work. She needed to remember it.
Damn, she really needed a doughnut. Or anything chocolate, she thought, and jumped when someone opened her passenger door and slid into her car.
A tall, built, gorgeous someone.
Tanner Riggs, of course, showing up when she was feeling especially vulnerable and uncertain, as only he could unerringly do.
Chapter 20
Tanner sat comfortable as you please, even though Callie’s car felt way too small for him. He leaned forward a little, making a show of looking at the house she’d been staring at as he handed her over a to-go mug of hot chocolate.
She took a sip and smiled. “Are you magic?” she asked. “Can you read minds?”
“Neither,” he said. “In the span of five minutes I took multiple calls that you were sitting in your car on the street where you used to live, looking sad.”
This snapped her spine straight. Ah, there she was, his proud, stubborn Callie. “I’m not sad,” she said. “And who called you?”
“I promised not to say.”
“My grandma,” she guessed. “That damn Find Friends app. Honestly, what was I thinking when I bought her that smartphone for Christmas last year?”
Figuring silence was best here, he just sipped his hot chocolate.
“And then…either Becca or Olivia,” she guessed. “Although I have no idea how they’d know.”
“One of them is marrying a guy with an eagle eye and a natural nose for details, who just happened to be driving through and saw you,” he said.
“Yeah, well, people in this town need to get a life.”
“People care about you,” he said.
She turned her head and met his gaze. “People?”
“People.”
She looked at him for a long beat. “You?”
?
??Little bit.”
“We’re not even friends,” she said. “You don’t have to worry about me. Scratch that, you don’t get to worry about me.”
Did she really believe they weren’t friends? Who the hell was she fooling? Clearly herself, which was irritating as shit.
“It’s time to rethink our relationship,” he said.
She stared at him like he’d lost his marbles. And he probably had.
“No,” she said. “No rethinking. Rethinking is a dangerous sport. Rethinking gets people hurt.”
People as in her. Her voice had risen slightly, and though she was doing her best to keep her cool, she was a little panicked. Her eyes gave her away. He reached out for her hand, entwining his fingers with hers, squeezing gently. “You grew up in that house?” he asked quietly.
“Yes.”
“I knew your parents,” he said. “My mom cleaned your parents’ legal office at night for extra cash.”
Her only movement was to rub her thumb over his. “I had no idea,” she finally said.
“No one did. It was in her verbal contract with them. My mom’s pride was at stake, and she has a lot of it. She didn’t want anyone to see her as a struggling single mom. Your dad always gave her a bonus at the end of the year and for her birthday. My mom said that he was a fair man. Real fair. She also said he hardly even realized he had a kid, and all he ever had time for was work and his wife.”
Callie kept her hand in his but she was staring at the house now. As intently as Tanner was watching her, he caught the exact second her eyes watered. She tried to blink the moisture away but it didn’t help.
“She worried about you,” Tanner went on. “Because you were an only child. You would come to the office and be told by your dad to sit still and keep quiet, and you would. You’d mess around some with the equipment, but so quietly that it was like you weren’t even there. You followed directions to the letter. Like you were afraid to do anything else.”
She shook her head. “No,” she said, but her voice wobbled and she had to clear her throat. “I wasn’t afraid of him, not like that. Never like that. He was just happiest if it was quiet and calm, so my mom made sure that we both gave him that.”
“Kids aren’t supposed to be quiet, Callie. Or calm.”
“I was,” she said.
Tanner brought their joined hands to his chest, waiting until she met his gaze to speak. “You loved your dad.”
“Yes. Still do.”
“You wanted to please him. That’s what you’d been taught by your mother’s example.”
She met his gaze. “You think I set a life pattern, trying to please the men in my life?” She saw something in his eyes, something more, and she stared at him. “Or worse, you think I aim for the unapproachable man,” she said slowly. “I set myself up to be hurt.”
“Don’t you?” he asked quietly.
“Oh my God.” She pulled her hand free to press it against her own suddenly aching heart. “You really do think that. Then how do you explain you? Wait—” She pointed at him when he opened his mouth. “Don’t you dare answer that. You think I’ve done it yet again, set myself up to fall for a man who won’t fall back. You already told me you wouldn’t fall, that this wasn’t going to be a relationship. So yes. Yes, that’s exactly what you think. Get out of my car.”
“Callie.”
“I mean it, Tanner.”
“In a minute.” He reached out and turned her face back to his. “I’m just calling it like I see it, but hell, what do I know? I grew up without a dad at all so don’t listen to me. Listen to your gut. Follow your instincts. Live however you want. Just make sure you do it, Callie. Make sure that you live.”
She stared into his eyes. “You don’t know me,” she said. “You don’t get to make snap judgments about my life.”
“I’m not making snap judgments. And I thought we established that I know you pretty damn well.”
“No, you don’t,” she said. “This”—she gestured between them—“this thing we do, it isn’t getting to know each other. We’re not even friends with benefits. We’re just the benefits.”
He looked at her for a long beat. The only clue to his thoughts was the muscle twitching in his square jaw. “Fine,” he finally said. “If that’s how you want it.”
Not trusting her voice, she nodded.
“Callie—”
“I’d really like you to get out of my car now,” she said, hating that her voice wavered. She leaned across him and shoved open the car door in blatant invitation for him to get the hell out.
He did. But before he shut the door, he rested his arms on the roof and looked into her eyes. “Ignoring this doesn’t change anything.”
“Maybe not but it’s worth a shot,” she said, and started her car. She revved the engine and he took the hint, shutting the door and leaving her alone, just as she’d wanted.
She did her best to remember that when later she was by herself in bed.
But damn. Her pillow smelled like Tanner, and lying there in the bed all by herself, she had to remind herself that being alone had been a choice. Her choice.
It took forever to fall asleep, and it was only a few minutes later when she was woken by her phone. She answered without reading the screen because she couldn’t focus yet. “’lo?”
“I need a ride.”
“Troy?” she asked, coming more awake.
“Yeah.”
She sat up. “Okay, no problem. Where are you?”
“You can’t tell anyone.”
Oh boy. Callie inhaled a deep breath. “What’s going on?”
“Promise me.”
It was hard to hear him because there was a lot of background noise. Wind? The ocean? There was a quality to his voice that said he was shaken, and she didn’t want to waste another second getting to him. “I promise,” she said, getting out of bed and shoving her legs into sweats right on top of her PJs. “Just tell me where you are.”
Ten minutes later she was parked at the far north end of the harbor, where the rocky beaches were accessible only by a long, steep, rocky trail. Rock climbers loved this area because they could rock climb with the ocean at their back, the Olympic Mountains at their front. It was a stunning locale, shown off tonight by a full moon and a sky littered with stars like diamonds on black velvet. Gorgeous, and deadly dangerous, especially at night.
And Troy had come out here alone to…what? Swim? Her heart had been pounding the entire drive over here as she debated with herself whether to call Tanner. Or the police.
Promise me.
That had held her back, the soft and rather desperate tone of a teenager who knew he was in over his head and needed her help.
He’d told her to walk on the beach for about a hundred yards and then turn to the cliffs.
Using her Maglite even though she didn’t need it with the moon casting a shocking amount of light, she made her way, counting paces, and then turned to the cliffs.
And gasped.
Lit by the moon and a gazillion stars was a lone lanky figure halfway up the cliff. The figure waved to her. And then her phone rang.
“Oh my God,” she said to him before he could speak.
“I’m okay,” he said. “Just…stuck.”
“Stuck,” she repeated numbly. Shielding her eyes from the moon’s glow, she tried desperately to get a better view. He appeared to be sitting on a ledge of some sort, though she couldn’t