One to Tell the Grandkids (28 page)

Taryn sat heavily in the room’s one other chair, watching the sharp rise and fall of his shoulders as he tried to steady his breaths. After a tense minute, he opened a drawer and took out a framed picture. He set it down harder than Taryn was expecting, and she jumped at the noise. It took another few seconds before she could make move pick it up. When she did, it took even longer before she could take her eyes off his defeated form to look at what he’d given her.

The picture was of Caleb holding a cherubic toddler girl. Her arms were wrapped around him. She’d been caught mid-giggle, her head tossed back in laughter. It looked as though Caleb was blowing raspberries against her neck. Her heart twisted. Whatever had happened to this little girl, it couldn’t be good. She had to take a deep breath before she asked. “Trinity?”

Caleb exhaled in a gust, as though he’d been punched in the gut. “I met her mother, Lisa, when she was three months pregnant.”

Taryn gasped, but Caleb didn’t look up. He continued on, his voice a discontent rumble like thunder in the distance. “I was there every minute, for every doctor appointment, every ultrasound. I was there when Trinity was born. I loved her. There was never a minute when I didn’t think of her as my daughter. I wanted to adopt her, but Lisa always put me off.”

His breath stuttered. “But she wasn’t my daughter. Not by blood. And when Lisa and I broke up, she didn’t want me to see Trinity anymore.”

Taryn thought for a moment she would be physically ill. “Oh no.”

“Yeah. I offered anything. I would have gladly paid child support, but Lisa wouldn’t have it.” He swallowed hard. “There’s no way to fight it when they’re not yours biologically or on paper.”

Taryn wanted to do too many things at once, and her indecision froze her where she sat. Her mood swung at the same crazy tempo as her thoughts. She wanted to hold him and hug him. She wanted to ask him more. She was still confused. Where did this story fit in the larger situation they were in?

Before she could order her thoughts, the door creaked, and they both turned around to find Slate standing there. His expression was hard and uncertain. “What’s going on back here?” His eyes darted from Taryn to Caleb, and he stepped to her side. “Why are you making her cry?”

“He’s not. He didn’t.”

Caleb stood. “I’m sorry. I was trying to stay out of it. I’ll go. Enjoy your party.”

He was gone before either of them could stop him.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

I
t was pure chance Caleb saw his phone light up. Eleven thirty at night was prime bar time anywhere. The last few weeks he had been at work every evening without fail, trying to get himself back to the top of his game. On a Friday, the place was noisier than ever, and besides being busy, Caleb was trying to grease a few wheels. He needed to redecorate the place, and he needed to do it for less than the prices he’d been quoted so far.

He’d been spinning his phone around on the table idly with one hand as he spoke and only saw it was ringing when his guest’s eyes darted down and back. He furrowed his eyebrows at the screen and almost didn’t answer. It wasn’t a number he recognized. After a brief internal debate—what if his father was sick—he connected the call just before it went to voice mail. “Hold on,” he said into the phone as he put on a faux-impatient smile for the decorator he was schmoozing. “Give me one minute. Sorry. Oni will bring you another White Russian.”

When he was safe in the quieter space of his office, Caleb put the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“Caleb?”

“Yeah. Who is this?”

“It’s Kaylynn. Kaylynn McKenzie.”

Slate’s mom. Caleb’s throat was tight with guilt. “Hey.”

“Listen, I’m sorry to bother you. I know you and Slate had some sort of falling out, but I’m hoping you’ll help me anyway. You’re the only friend of Slate’s I can talk to.”

“We didn’t . . .” Caleb closed his eyes and tried again. “Anyway, what’s going on? Is Slate okay?” Kaylynn didn’t sound panicked, so he figured Slate was alive at least.

“Physically, he’s fine. Mentally, well, that’s another story. Look, I love my son. You know I love him. But sometimes the things he does make me crazy.”

“Uh-oh. What did he do now?”

“He was pulled over tonight.”

“For what?”

“Expired tags.”

Caleb’s stomach dropped to his toes. Right around the time everything between him, Slate, and Taryn went to hell, he’d dismissed an alarm on his phone to remind Slate to pay the damn thing. He knew it wasn’t his responsibility, but it was something he’d started to do the millionth time his friend sat up with a shouted curse when he remembered a bill he’d forgotten to pay. Slate’s problem wasn’t that he couldn’t pay his bills; he just needed a little help organizing. Maybe it could be looked at as enabling irresponsibility, but the way Caleb figured it, everyone had something they could be doing better. That was the point of amassing a network of good people—to fill in the spaces you missed.

Kaylynn continued, oblivious to Caleb’s guilty inner monologue. “That was a fool enough thing, but wouldn’t you know it, he had an old ticket on the books. A ticket with a bench warrant.”

“Oh, hell.” Caleb stood, already reaching for his keys. “Where are they holding him? What’s bail set at?”

“That’s not what I’m calling about. He called me to get him out.”

Caleb flinched. Kaylynn’s financial situation was something Slate worried about constantly. There was no way he would call her to bail him out unless there was no other option. Caleb guessed he’d taken away Slate’s other options. “What else can I do? What do you need?”

“He was on his way to Taryn’s place. He only gets the one phone call. Guess there’s some truth to fiction, huh? I told him I had her number. I thought I did, but I don’t. She’ll be worried when he doesn’t show up tonight. Can you give her a call or give me her number?”

“I’ll call her.”

Kaylynn sighed. She sounded relieved. “I was hoping you’d say that. I have a few things to figure out.”

“You’re sure there’s nothing I can do to help?”

“Just take care of Taryn. I’ll take care of my boy.”

When Caleb disconnected the call, he sat still for a minute, staring at the phone in his hand. He knew he was going to make the call. That went without question. Still, the idea of talking to Taryn again had him pinned in that space between pleasure and pain.

It had been three weeks since the baby shower when she’d stood in front of him, glowing but furious, with more strength than he’d ever been capable of. He’d finally admitted his weakness to her, why he couldn’t reach out and take what was right in front of him. Rather than reacting with disgust, she’d cried. She’d cried for his loss.

She was amazing and so much more intoxicating than the drinks he’d had that day. Looking at her had the same effect as alcohol on his inhibitions. He was braver when he was right in front of her, when she was touchable. He wanted to be brave, but he knew what it could cost him.

Blowing out a breath, Caleb dialed her number by heart. When she answered, he found her voice still made his lips quirk up. “Caleb?” Her tone was wary, and Caleb lamented again that he’d hurt her.

“Hey, Taryn.”

When he caught her up on the situation, her
concern was immediate. “I’m coming up there,” she said.

“Whoa, what? That’s really not necessary.”

She sighed. “You don’t get to tell me what’s not necessary. Slate would be there for me. I’m going to be there for him.”

“I understand you want to be there for him, but you should take it easy. This isn’t a life-or-death situation.”

“It doesn’t matter. He needs someone, if only for moral support.”

“I’ll be there for him.”

“Like I can trust you to do that.”

Caleb bit the inside of his cheek, stung.

“Give me Kaylynn’s number. I’m going to tell her I’m coming.”

“Stay there. At least let me come get you.”

“You’re not going to do that.”

“I’m going to be there for him anyway, regardless of what you think. I’d feel more comfortable if you let me drive you.” He paused before he added, “Part of being there for Slate is being there for you, because he’d want that.”

“You’re not making any sense. You’re already in LA. It’s not like I’m around the corner.”

“I know how this works. The cops aren’t going to be able to process him until morning one way or another, so it’s not like we don’t have time. Let me come get you.” He hesitated only a moment, knowing full well he wasn’t going to come out of this unscathed. “Let me come get you, and then you can stay here. Sleep for a few hours, and I’ll sleep on the couch. Like the old days.”

She huffed. “The old days.” Her tone was wry but not as hard as it had been just a minute before.

“You hate driving. This is a free pickup service.”

“Fine. Fine. You win. You want to deal with a tired, cranky preggo, then it’s no skin off my back.”

“Good. There shouldn’t be any traffic right now. I’ll be there in a half hour with any luck.”

“Okay.” Her tone was gentle, reminding him of her whispers in his ear when they lay in bed together at night. “Drive safe, Caleb.”

It didn’t take long for Caleb to take care of business. He made his apologies to the decorator he’d kept waiting and notified his manager to give the man whatever he wanted on the house. He was out the door and on the road within the space of ten minutes.

Flying down the freeway, he couldn’t help but hear Taryn’s voice from the passenger seat beside him. He remembered her laughter and conversation during their many trips up and down this freeway.

Despite his fear that he was heading for his own ruin, his own heartbreak, heading toward her never felt as wrong as running away.

Taryn questioned her decision to let Caleb come get her the entire forty minutes it took him to arrive. She wasn’t an idiot. Though the impetus of their reunion revolved around Slate and their mutual desire to help him, she knew she was asking to reopen the wounds she was trying to let heal. Over and over again she’d told herself Caleb’s distance was for the best. She wanted to be brave for Slate’s sake and say she could stand Caleb’s being there. It was a lie. Her tears and her broken heart could attest to that.

He’d never made her any promises, and that was part of the reason she was so angry. He could have kept it civil, but he hadn’t. He’d made it weird and awkward. She loved him, she knew she loved him, but she resented him for that.

The drive to LA was silent. They hadn’t said more than twenty words since he appeared on her doorstep.

Taryn supposed it was unfair to blame him for everything. She’d been complicit, too. She hadn’t defined them or what they were doing any more than he had. There was always danger in making lovers of friends. She missed their easy camaraderie and the happiness these drives used to bring her.

Fair or not, she was pissed. “What, have you lost the ability to speak?” It was childish, but she’d meant what she said on the phone. She was uncomfortably pregnant and cranky on the best of days. Seeing him, this kind, caring, confusing, stupid, stupid, stupid man, was not the best of days by a long shot. It was making her stomach twist in knots. “I could have driven myself.”

“I didn’t think you’d want to talk to me.”

“Right, because driving in silence is so much fun.”

“I’m sorry.”

She crossed her arms over her big-as-a-planet belly and hunkered down in her seat. It was all she could do to keep her mouth shut. Nothing good was going to come out of it anyway.

It was only another few minutes before they were pulling up to his place. Taryn got out almost before the car stopped. At least, she tried to get out of the car. Her center of gravity was annoyingly uncooperative, and she found herself falling back onto her more generously padded rear. She growled in exasperation, and by the time she was ready to try her balance again, Caleb was there. He took her hand. She tensed and considered telling him to get away from her. In the end, though, she braced her hand against his arm and let him pull her to her feet.

They were close. Too close. Close enough his breath was warm on her face. His nearness made her dizzy, and when she swayed on her feet, he automatically looped his arm around her waist.

How easily it all came back to her: the thrill of his arms around her, his face so close it would take nothing to tilt her head forward for a kiss. Tempting. So tempting.

Narrowing her eyes, she gave him a little shove. “Let’s go inside.”

He blinked as though he was as confused as she felt. Taryn wrapped her arms around her shoulders and followed him up the walk. Once inside, they both paused in the living room. Caleb rubbed his palms on his pants. “We should . . . you should lie down. Sleep. We’ll figure out what to do for Slate in the morning. Well, later today, I guess.”

“Yeah. Sleep. I should sleep.” She took two steps toward his room, stopped, and whirled on him. “You know what, no. I don’t want to sleep. I want to fight.”