Always My Hero (3 page)

“Thanks. He’s a stubborn cuss, my old man. I’m sure he’s going to be just fine. But yeah, I’m helping out for now.” He gave Bree a long look. “You okay? I didn’t mean to surprise you like that.”

“Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just a klutz. Let’s help you get those boxes inside.” She shifted her gaze to his left shoulder, a safe spot to focus on. Those eyes of his only caused her to go weak in the knees.

“No way. You two should head on home. I’m not even staying tonight. Got another load tomorrow. It was good seeing both you again.”

Before she could correct his assumption that she and Foster were a couple and explain that she lived in the other half of the duplex alone, Ryan had already turned around and scuffed up the stairs to his front door. Her toes on fire, she lurched toward her apartment.

“Talk about a blast from the past, huh? I remember now. You’re the reason Ryan was able to get that scholarship to UCLA. You tutored his lazy butt in English.”

“And math and history.”

“The guy owes you big time, then.” Foster held the door open for her, kicking the snow off his shoes before he stepped in after her, shedding his coat and shoes and heading into the living room before she could feign a headache and get out of the rest of the date. Cocoa it was, then.

Bree took her time hanging up her coat in the hall closet, turning Foster’s last sentence over and over in her head. The way she saw it, she owed Ryan. She owed him more than she could ever repay in a lifetime. Because of her, Ryan would never get to know the child they had conceived together.

• • •

The shatter of glass as a waitress accidentally tipped her tray and sent several beer mugs sliding to the floor shook Ryan out of his reverie. He peered through the cigarette haze toward the bar, where his buddy, Luke, was buying the next round. It was pretty crowded for a Sunday night. Or that was his assumption, seeing as Ryan hadn’t been out to a bar on a Sunday night, or any other night, since before Wesley was born.

“Glad you could make it out tonight.” Luke handed him a Sam Adams and sat down at the water-ring stained table.

“My mother put you up to this, didn’t she?”

“I was going to look you up. No joke.”

“Christ, did she actually go down to the station?” Ryan grimaced, already knowing the answer.

“She brought chocolate chip cookies. Your mom has every firefighter in Scallop Shores wrapped around her finger.” Luke smiled, unashamed.

“Man, I don’t know if I can get used to...that scruff.” He ran a hand over his own chin to signify the ginger beard his old friend from high school now sported.

“Hey, comes in handy this time of year.” Luke grinned.

“A big hit with the ladies, too, no doubt.”

“Huh. Wouldn’t know. I’m too busy to deal with the female set.”

While his friend looked a lot different, it was clear Luke was still painfully shy around women. Shelving the topic, so as not to embarrass the guy, Ryan took a swig of beer and people watched for a few moments.

“Can you believe that the last time I was in town, I couldn’t even drink legally? This is the first time I’ve actually seen the inside of Smitty’s.”

“You’ve been hiding out a long time.”

“I have not been hiding.” Ryan turned his head to the side and muttered, “ … much.”

“Well, you’re back now. We ought to get the guys together for hockey out on Perkins pond.”

“Who still lives in town?”

The idea of reconnecting with his former teammates, aside from Luke, should have felt good. Except that his mind automatically wondered whether the guys would judge him for abandoning football, the town, and all his friends for so long. He deserved to be judged. He’d been a weenie. Still, there had been a time when they were as close as brothers and Ryan had to admit that he missed out on seeing what they’d done with their lives.

“Jamie teaches high school science. Ironic, huh? Kid voted Most-Likely-To-Blow-Up-The-Chem-Lab now has his own classroom. Doyle works for the town manager. I want to give him shit over the fact that they make him wear a tie, when he looks more like he belongs in a biker gang, with all those crazy tats of his. But he’d probably kick my ass.

“Scott lives the next town over. We call him the ‘Sperminator’. Would you believe he has two sets of twins? Freaky, huh? ‘Course he’s also a little whipped, so we’d have to ask his wife for permission in order to snag him for a game.

“Chase is on the police force. He and Amanda had a little boy last year. Oh and then there’s Foster. You probably remember he went off to some fancy-schmancy culinary school? Could have worked in any of the ritzier restaurants in the country, but he manages his parents’ restaurant now.”

Foster. Yeah, he’d run into that particular teammate last night. His new neighbor. Ryan shoved a hand through his hair and tried to keep the scowl off his face.

It wasn’t like he had anyone to blame but himself. He’d left town. He’d chosen Haley because it was the right thing to do. Bree had every right to move on with her life, to find a husband and settle down. And if he had any say in who she ended up with, he had to admit Foster Duncan would have been on the short list. He was a standup guy. And a damned lucky one, at that.

“You see Bree yet?”

Ryan slammed his knee on the underside of the table. This, in turn, jostled the beer bottles and had both men scrambling to grab their own before they tipped over. Luke raised the bottle to his lips and watched his friend, a curious smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes.”

“She was just a friend. Just my tutor.”

“Uh huh. You keep telling yourself that.” Luke took another sip and continued to watch him.

“I don’t know what you’re getting at.” He’d been so careful not to let anyone know exactly how he’d felt about Bree. He had a girlfriend, for crying out loud! Only a dick would have flaunted that in front of her.

“Ever heard the expression ‘wear your heart on your sleeve’? That was you, buddy.”

“No, that’s bullshit. If Haley knew I liked Bree, she would have said something. She would have been pissed.”

“Perhaps. She would have made Bree’s life a living hell in high school. But look at it this way, she knew she’d won. She had what she wanted and screw everyone else.” Luke’s shrug looked almost like an apology.

“Tell me how you really feel,” Ryan drawled.

It wasn’t like his friend was making up stories. Haley was the classic Mean Girl in high school. But she’d had her good points too. She’d been his biggest supporter. When his coach had insisted he hire a tutor or lose all chance of his free ride to UCLA, Haley had done the legwork and brought him Bree. She wanted the best for him and she went out of her way to help him get it.

“I’m sorry you guys didn’t work out. Really I am. Haley wasn’t my favorite person in the world, but she made you happy.”

Or so he’d led everyone to believe. Ryan sighed, raising his arms above his head in a lazy stretch.

“Hey, I wish her well, you know?”

“You two still talk? She ever make it as an actress out there in LaLa land, like she wanted? I haven’t seen her on the big screen and I don’t really watch much TV. She keep tabs on her little boy?”

“Haven’t heard from her in years. Once she signed those papers, Wes and I ceased to exist.” He shrugged. No big deal. “Let’s just say motherhood isn’t Haley’s strong suit.”

“That’s gotta be rough on Wes. A boy needs his mother.”

“We’re doing just fine on our own.” More like they were doing a good job faking it for the rest of the world.

“I’m sure he’ll make lots of friends, now that you’re home. I think one of Bree’s little brothers is in Wesley’s school.”

Bree again. There were reminders of her everywhere.

“See, the thing is, I’m not planning to stay in Scallop Shores. I didn’t come home to take over the store for my dad.” Ryan squirmed in his chair. “I’m going to try to convince them to sell it.”

A silence fell over the little table and Ryan could only assume it was as awkward for Luke as it was for him. He flagged down a waitress and ordered another round of Sam Adams, adding in nachos since he’d forgotten to eat dinner.

“I thought you got your own place?”

“Yeah, but the lease is month to month. Dad’s got all these visiting nurses popping in. They have a hospital bed set up in the living room. Ma turned my bedroom into a sewing room. Wes and I have been sleeping on a futon. I think she’s happy to have us close … but not too close, you know what I mean?”

“How’s he doing, your dad?” Luke nodded as the waitress set a beer in front of each of them and slid a plate of loaded nachos toward the center of the table.

“The idea is to get him moving again. He lost all mobility on one side. Even his speech was affected. It kills me that I can’t understand him when he tries to talk. I think Wes is scared of him.”

“I’m sorry, Ry. Your dad was always such a tough son of a gun.”

“We’ll get him up and out of bed again. Hopefully able to go fishing and hunting with his buddies. But he’ll never be able to run that hardware store again,” he continued, feeling as though an explanation was in order. “I’m doing this for them. Sell the store. Get top dollar and set my parents up for a sweet retirement.”

“You think they’ll go for it?”

“I think Dad’s stroke was a wakeup call and they need to realize that instead of thinking day to day, they need to plan for the future. And the future isn’t going to involve handing the hardware store down to me just because it’s what they want.”

“And what do you want?”

“I just told you. I want to sell the hardware store.” Ryan shook his head and pulled at a cheesy tortilla chip, dislodging an olive and some Pico de Gallo.

“That’s what you want for your parents. What do you want for you? Got someone special waiting for you back in sunny California?”

“Well, no. No girlfriend. Just a job. Waiting for me, that is. They’ve given me a six-month hiatus. I was lucky that they’d hold my position that long.”

Okay, it was hard to make a job as an accountant at a worker’s comp insurance company sound exciting. Because it wasn’t. But it paid the bills and put food on the table. He couldn’t really ask for more than that, right? He had a son to raise. He no longer had time to chase foolish dreams.

“So you want to get back to your job. Crunch some numbers. Sit at a desk.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I want. Not all of us can be firefighters, policemen, and gourmet chefs. Some of us are happy playing with numbers and making sure everything adds up.”

He wasn’t fooling either of them. So what if he didn’t know what he wanted? He had the rest of his life to figure that out. He had some regrets. Didn’t everyone? But he also had Wesley and he was going to do right by his son. As soon as he could figure out a way to connect with the boy who felt more like a stranger than his own flesh and blood.

Standing in front of her closet in her rubber ducky pajamas, toothbrush hanging out of her mouth, Bree contemplated her choices. Long boring black peasant skirt with equally boring black cardigan, or long boring brown peasant skirt with washed out yellow cardigan. She worked with kids all day. They’d probably think it a hoot if she were to show up in her jammies.

She almost choked on her toothbrush when someone knocked on the front door. Who would be looking for her at this hour? The sun was barely up. Hurrying out of her bedroom and down the hall, Bree yanked open the door. Then wished she hadn’t.

“Hey, is Foster up yet? I’m hoping he has an extra shovel. I figure if we work together we can get this stuff cleared in no time.” Ryan stamped his feet on her welcome mat, blowing on his bare knuckles as he awkwardly looked anywhere but at her.

Foster? Bree frowned, blinking. She wasn’t doing so well, keeping up with a conversation before her morning cup of coffee.

“I know, it’s stupid, right? My family owns the town hardware store. You’d think I would have a ton of shovels lying around. I meant to snag one out of my parents’ garage, but I forgot.”

“He’s not ... ”
Note to self. Don’t try to talk when you have a toothbrush in your mouth.
With a disgusted shake of her head, Bree tossed the toothbrush] on the entryway table and swallowed the foamy paste left in her mouth.

She realized she hadn’t finished her sentence. What had she been about to say?
He’s not here. He’s not awake yet.
This truly was a pointless charade she was keeping up. It wasn’t like it benefitted anyone.

Foster didn’t live here. For that matter, she wasn’t quite sure where he lived. It had to be close to the center of town, because she saw him run by the library nearly every morning during decent weather, his faithful yellow lab looking blissfully pleased to join him. Bree frowned. She’d never even asked him what his beautiful dog’s name was.

“It’s all right. Don’t bother him. I’ll get Wes to help me. Do you have a shovel we can borrow?”

“Wes?” Bree peered around Ryan, who took up her whole doorway with his six foot two inch frame. The guy was almost as wide as he was tall, when she counted in his massive shoulder span.

Her eyes widened. She must have missed the weather report yesterday. Several inches of new snowfall blanketed the ground. Though the sky was a steely gray, it seemed to be done for the time being. Not enough for life in Scallop Shores to grind to a halt, just enough to make a big mess.

“My little guy. He’s eight.” The pride in his voice was unmistakable.

Turning around quickly, so he couldn’t see how this news affected her, Bree stuck her upper half into the hall closet. Pretending to search for the shovel, she sucked in a few shuddering breaths. Ryan had a son. Correction. Ryan and Haley had a son. It shouldn’t have hurt as bad as it did. But a phantom pain gripped her by the uterus and shook it hard enough that she saw stars.

“I see it, Bree. To your right.”

Ryan reached around her, brushing against her side and nearly tearing a sob from her aching throat at the contact. He grasped the handle of the plastic snow shovel and jiggled it to show she’d have to get out of the way for him to remove it from the crowded closet. Bree practically climbed into the narrow enclosure to avoid any chance that they’d touch again.