Chapter 24—Protecting the Blind Side

When it came to Tyler Harris, Lavender embraced dishonesty—with herself.

For example, she didn’t perk up when she heard his deep, teasing voice. And certainly, she would never crane her neck to get a glimpse of his to-die-for body. Nor did she live for matching wits with him. Last of all, she’d never lie awake at night wondering where he was. Yup, definitely a first-class liar and a lousy one.

That very morning her mother showed up and had a heart-to-heart with her about Tyler and his track record. She was worried he’d break Lavender’s heart and didn’t want to see her daughter hurt like that.

Lavender didn’t want to end it with Tyler, not yet. Once Tyler headed back to the mainland, the problem would solve itself. Until then she’d keep her mom in the dark, like she was when it came to her brief encounter with her father.

Lavender glanced up when the bar door opened. She’d been doing a lot of that all afternoon and evening. Tyler walked through the door, looking as gorgeous as ever in his usual faded jeans, scuffed cowboy boots, and well-worn, long-sleeved T-shirt. Her heart caught in her throat and took up residence. She breathed a sigh of relief. He’d been MIA since last night’s disaster at the awards banquet.

Last night when Lavender had caught a seat on a floatplane just as it was about to leave Lake Union, she recognized the pilot as the same one from the night before. He recognized her. His knowing smile indicated he’d seen more of her than she’d hoped, which only added to her misery, as fate plotted against her. The older lady sitting next to her chattered nonstop about knitting and cooking all the way back. Lavender smiled and nodded through her pain, not hearing a word the woman said.

All she’d wanted to do was curl into a little ball and cry herself sick until she’d run dry of tears and fallen asleep. A few hours later, she did just that, except for the sleep part. Then her mother interrupted her pity party. Lavender never mentioned her brief encounter with Brian Gerloch.

By the time Tyler parked his fine ass on his favorite barstool, Lavender was dragging. She poured a beer and slid it across to him. He thanked her. His steady gaze held hers as he worked his jaw, a sure sign something was on his mind.

Finally he spoke. “I’m sorry about last night. Coach wasn’t supposed to be there.” He leaned across the counter and took her small hand in his large calloused one. “I’d never put you through that on purpose. I hope you know that.” A flicker of regret substantiated the sincerity of his apology.

Lavender looked away, choking up again. She cleared her throat but still couldn’t find her voice.

A sad smile floated across his lips. “El, I’m sorry. I really am.”

She nodded, pulled her hand free, and turned away, wiping at her face with a napkin. The weekend had shaken up her house of cards, and she doubted it would survive.

“Have you considered giving him a second chance? He seems really sorry.”

She turned around and faced him. “I can’t.”

He looked at his beer as if it held life’s answers, then raised his gaze back to hers. Dark circles ringed his eyes and weariness shone there. Stress creased his handsome face.

“You talked to him after I left, didn’t you?”

Warily, like a man walking through a den of snakes, Tyler spoke with quiet determination. “Yeah. There are things you should know.”

“The only thing I need to know is that I love my mom, she’s always been there for me, and he wasn’t.” Grabbing a bar rag, Lavender walked around the counter.

“El, I—” He stood and held his hands out in a gesture of surrender, looking lost, and she almost caved and ran into his arms.

“Drop it. I’ve asked you over and over. You don’t learn, do you?” She snapped the bar rag and hit him on his thigh, dangerously close to his prized possessions. He jumped back, obviously fearing for his boys’ well-being. He tried one more time by taking a half step forward. She snapped the bar rag again. He yelped as it narrowly missed his crotch.

“What the fu—hell is wrong with you?”

“Leave, please.” She twisted the towel in her hands.

Keeping his eyes on her, Tyler backed to the door with Lavender dogging his every step, towel at the ready. He lunged out the door and slammed it hard enough to shake the windows.

 

* * * * *

 

Tyler stood on the back porch on a rare sunny day and sipped his cup of coffee. Lavender drove out of her driveway and never looked his way.

He sighed. He’d screwed up again and been an insensitive ass, as usual. For two days, he’d stayed away, let her cool down.

But damn, he missed her.

He’d never worn regret well, but regret his actions he did. A lot. In fact, he felt like crap inside. Dredging up this stuff about her father hurt her deeply and uprooted her life. Damned if he knew whether it’d be worth it in the end for all of them.

A smart man would butt out, just as Coach warned him, but Tyler’s pigheadedness outweighed his intelligence. Always had.

Tyler’s father died without reconciling with his own father. Ryan died unable to say goodbye to his mother. If he’d learned anything, he’d learned life was too short for such bullshit. Too short for regrets. Better to try and fail than to regret not trying. Maybe he should follow his own frigging advice. Live so you won’t have regrets on judgment day.

And what would he regret when his ninety days on the island were up?

Tyler leaned on the railing and stared out at the peaceful bay. Sun shone on the water, and the old dock creaked from the wake of a passing motorboat. A seagull dropped an oyster on the dock to break it then dove down to collect his reward. A smile twitched at the corners of Tyler’s mouth.

Smart bird.

It was a beautiful spring day, warmer than usual, and Tyler decided to take a walk around the estate and make a list of outside projects.

He liked it here. This place gave him peace. It felt like home more than his ritzy Seattle condo ever had. For two more weeks, it was home.

Gravel crunched in Lavender’s driveway, and his heart sped up a beat. Expectantly, he swung his gaze swung back to her little house. Her mother’s car turned into the driveway as disappointment flooded through him.

While Larry sat in the car reading a newspaper, Brenda walked up the front steps and tried the door. The door opened, and she disappeared into her daughter’s house. Larry continued to read the paper, as if he expected to be there a while.

Tyler waited, expecting Brenda to exit in a minute or two. She didn’t. His eyes narrowed. The minutes ticked by. He checked his watch. Twenty minutes passed.

Unable to stand it any longer, Tyler slipped over to Lavender’s and opened the unlocked door.

With her back to him, Brenda Mead rummaged through the contents of a file cabinet. Silently, Tyler watched as she picked up a folder of pictures and sorted through them. She wadded one up into a ball and tossed it in the nearby garbage can. What the hell?

“What are you doing here?”

Brenda spun around at the sound of his voice. The guilt on her face said it all. “I, uh, I’m looking for a bill we need to pay. What are you doing here?”

“The door was unlocked. I knew Lavender wasn’t home. I’m a good neighbor and thought I’d check it out.” His gaze never wavered but neither did Brenda’s. Like two prizefighters, they sized up each other. Brenda’s expression was pleasant, wiped of all signs of guilt. She gave the impression she was innocent of any wrongdoing. Before he’d talked to Coach, he’d have bought her act and not thought another word about it. Now he was plagued with doubts and suspicions.

“Well, thank you for watching out for my daughter. Your diligence gives me comfort.” She stepped in front of the desk like she was trying to block his view.

He bent down, retrieved a wad of paper from the nearby wastebasket, and uncrumpled it. Brenda stiffened, and her eyes grew big. Tyler’s heart pounded in his chest. He didn’t want to see anything incriminating, but he did.

“You just threw this away.” He waved the crumpled picture of Lavender and her father in front of Brenda’s face.

“She must have thrown it away.” Brenda fixated on the picture in his hand.

“I saw you do it.”

“I care about her.”

“Do you? Or do you care more about yourself?” His thoughts escaped as words before he could stop them. Strained silence stretched between them. Tension clawed the air. Brenda sized him up, as if debating whether he was friend or foe. Most likely he landed on the foe side with that remark.

“This is about him, isn’t it?”

Tyler nodded.

“Lavender doesn’t want a relationship with her father, and I’m only looking out for her best interests.

“You need to leave now.” Brenda pointed toward the door, her tone chillier than a winter day in Cascade Mountains.

“Neither one of us has a right to be here without Lavender’s permission.”

The door opened, and both of them turned toward it. Confused, Lavender hesitated in the doorway. Larry hovered behind her, wisely staying out of the line of fire.

“What’s going on here?” Lavender looked from Tyler to her mother. “What are you doing in my house? Both of you?”

Neither of them said a word. They’d been caught red-handed in her house without her permission.

“What’s going on here? You first.” She pointed at Tyler.

“I saw your mother over here, and knew you weren’t home. I found her going through your file cabinet.” He pointed at the open drawer on the file cabinet and waited expectantly for Lavender’s reaction over being violated by someone she trusted.

Lavender looked at her mother and sighed, as if this had happened before. “Mom, you know I hate that.”

Open-mouthed, Tyler was rendered speechless. Probably a good thing or he’d find a way to dig himself deeper. Brenda took the opportunity to grab the paper from his hand and shove it in her purse. Lavender didn’t seem to notice.

“Honey, I was looking for a bill I need to pay. I’m sorry. You know I always have your best interests at heart. I’m sorry. I didn’t know where you were, and I was in a hurry.” She smiled sympathetically.

Tyler knew better than to involve himself in a family dispute. He bit back what he really wanted to say. Now wasn’t the time. He’d spent several hours with his sisters yesterday going over copies of paperwork they’d dredged up, proving Brenda a liar on several fronts, such as child support, ownership of this very property, and court papers filed on more than one occasion by Brian alleging that Brenda interfered with visitation, countered by her claims of emotional abuse and neglect.

Brenda stepped forward, patting Lavender’s hand. “Honey, we’re just concerned about you. Forgive me.”

“I do, Mom. It’s okay. I should’ve answered your calls. I’ve had a tough few days.”

“Oh, no, what is it? Could I help?”

“No, it’s something I have to work out on my own.”

He ground his teeth together until his jaw hurt. Lavender deserved the truth, despite the possible repercussions. While his coach wasn’t entirely blameless, the guy was also the victim of a vindictive ex-wife.

Turning to him, Lavender pointed toward the open front door. “Ty, I’ll talk to you later.”

Tyler hesitated. The lead weight in his stomach warned he might have stepped out of bounds on the last play of the game. His arguments would make matters worse right now. Lavender needed to come to her own conclusions in her own time.

He flashed back to last few months and how far they’d both come, how much he looked forward to being around her, how she made him see things about himself no one else ever did. She’d turned his image of himself upside down and inside out.

Lavender thought he was worthy, thought he made a difference. She didn’t see him as a failure. Just by her kind words, he’d gained back a piece of his self-worth, started to see his life for what it was and how he could make it better. She’d given him hope. Even more, she’d given him something fragile and precious. He refused to put a name to it for fear it would slip away. When she was around, he felt alive, content, passionate yet comfortable. Things seemed right, like they’d known each other for a lifetime, not a few months. She’d taught him a lot about himself without even trying. When she wasn’t around, her absence left an empty hole only she could fill.

Now her expression told him to go away, and her rejection hurt like hell.

Frustrated and powerless, Tyler ran his gaze over Larry and Brenda. For a second, Brenda dropped her sweet façade, and he saw a flicker of triumph in her eyes. He glowered briefly at her and left.

She might have sacked him for a loss on fourth down, but he’d be damned if they’d win the game.

 

* * * * *

 

Lavender sported the Super Bowl of all headaches.

After mother had left, she’d noticed the folder of photographs of her father, no longer in the filing cabinet. Her mother must have pulled them out. She hadn’t said a thing about them. Brian Gerloch was such a sore subject with her mother. She probably felt betrayed. Lavender was torn between guilt and something she couldn’t explain. She had a right to have pictures of her father. She couldn’t completely wipe out his existence as much as she wanted to. Seeing him had brought all the pain and loss flooding back, and she’d spent too much time thinking about him lately.

A sliver of doubt crept into her thoughts. Her mother had been in her house without her permission. Looking for a bill? What kind of bill? Why was the folder of her father’s pictures out of the file cabinet?

She couldn’t ask her mother. Doing so involved a confrontation she wasn’t ready to have.

Tyler knew more than he’d let on, and she’d start with him. She sprinted across the field to the old mansion, suddenly desperate to know what he knew, even if she regretted it later. He’d sliced open those old wounds by taking her to Seattle. He’d been evasive about what had happened after she’d left.

Not bothering to knock or ring the doorbell, Lavender wrenched Tyler’s front door open. She hurried down the hallway into the den. He sat in his chair, drinking a beer and watching a basketball game, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Cougar was draped across his chest.

Tyler glanced up at her, his expression closed and unreadable. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“I caught her digging through your stuff,” he said apologetically, not meeting her gaze. There was more, but he wasn’t spilling it. She could tell.

“She owns the place, and I’m two months behind on my rent. I guess in her mind that gives her the right. She needed that bill.” She hated making excuses for her mother’s behavior, but criticism of her mom always made her defensive. Maybe because the truth hurt?

A muscle twitched in Tyler’s jaw. He stared at the fireplace and said nothing.

“You know something. What is it?”

That muscle twitched harder, and he tightened his jaw almost imperceptivity, as if to keep his mouth shut.

Lavender moved across the room and sat in the chair across from him. “What do you know?”

Finally those blue eyes settled on hers, and they were troubled. “She doesn’t own that house.”

“What?” Lavender shook her head, certain she’d heard incorrectly. “She got it in the divorce.”

Tyler’s gaze held hers. She squirmed. He was about to tell her something she didn’t want to hear but had to hear.

“What, Ty?”

“Your father owns that house. It’s in a trust for you and your brother.”

“But I’ve been paying her rent.”

“It’s not hers.” His voice was quiet but tense.

“You have to be mistaken.” Lavender shook her head. She didn’t want to believe his words. Her mother wouldn’t deceive her. Lavender’s stomach churned and her throat went as dry as a cornfield in a drought. Buying time to think, she stood and crossed to his bar, pouring a glass of water.

Tyler stood, too, ignoring the annoyed glare from Coug for being ousted from his seat. Instead of approaching her, he parked his fine body in front of the window. “Why would I lie? What would be in it for me?”

“My father got to you, didn’t he?”

“We talked, but I wouldn’t go so far as to say he got to me. I listened, and I did my research. I can show you the paperwork.”

She shook her head, unable to face what might be in the paperwork. Her mother and father might not be the people she thought they were, and that possibility scared the shit out of her. She wasn’t ready to upend the situation she’d accepted as the truth for her entire adult life. She did the only thing she could think of doing, as shitty as it was. She deflected the issue and made it about Tyler.

“What do you care? All you want is sex.” She pushed him, halfway hoping he’d deny her accusations. “My mother warned me about guys like you. I should’ve listened to her.”

“Guys like me, huh?” The muscles in his arms bulged, probably from the stress of holding his body under control, but he didn’t dispute the all-you-want-is-sex part. She died a little inside, even as she recognized she’d insulted him.

Lavender shrugged, appearing indifferent on the outside. Inside she was dying. Intense pain clawed at her gut, making her a little nauseous. Her head ached from confusion and fear—fear she might be wrong, about him, her mother, her father, all of it.

Tyler lowered his voice. “Brian talked to me after the awards banquet. He painted a different reality—one that checks out.” A hint of regret mixed with sadness burrowed into the grim lines around his mouth.

Lavender fought the urge to throw herself in the comfort of his strong arms and let him make the pain go away. Instead, she rose again to her mother’s defense, even as doubts clogged her thought processes. She’d been defending her mother for so long it came as second nature. “He left me. I needed him, and he disappeared. My mom has always been there for me. I love my mother, even with all her faults.”

Tyler softened his tone, tempering it with sympathy, which pulled the plug on her temper. “I’m not questioning your love for your mother. I know you love her. I’m not trying to drive a wedge between the two of you. I would never do that. It’s not healthy any more than it’s healthy for you to be forced to pick between your parents.”

Pretty insightful words from a guy who claimed to be selfish and uninvolved.

“I wasn’t forced.” She denied his words, even as she faced the tragic reality she might have been. “My dad was never home. It was always football, football, football.” Lavender paused, wiped at her eyes, and blundered forward. Despite the strength of her words, her resolve stumbled like a blind man in an unfamiliar place.

Tyler cocked his head as if listening intently. He caught her hand and squeezed it, his touch gentle and almost caring. He nodded for her to continue. Lavender gripped his hand and stared at the glass in her other hand.

“Here’s something you don’t know about me. I played sports.” She lifted her gaze, wanting to gauge his reaction.

He opened his mouth like a fish, but no words came out.

“Don’t look shocked. I was a female jock, assured of getting a softball scholarship to a D-1 school. When my dad got the big job, he left us in Mt. Vernon and never looked back. We stayed in touch for a while then the calls became nonexistent.” Her voice wavered then cracked. She paused, took a sip of water, and drew strength from his fingers wrapped around her hand.

“He didn’t exercise his visitation. Too much bother, I guess. I went into a downward spiral, partying, drugs, drinking. I quit softball, never played another game. I lost all chance of a scholarship. My grades tanked. I went from a top student to barely graduating from high school. Through it all, Mom was there. By the time I hit rock bottom, she and Larry were married. They picked me up and straightened me out. I owe her my loyalty, and I owe Larry. They sacrificed everything for me.”

There. She’d gotten it all out. A couple of tears slipped down her cheeks. She ignored them.

“You don’t have to defend your mother to me. I’m not on your dad’s side or your mother’s side. I’m on your side, and your side of the story tells me that you miss your dad. It’s time to forgive both of them.” Tyler wiped away her tears with the pad of his thumb. She leaned into him without thinking.

“My mother doesn’t need my forgiveness.”

“She should.” Tyler shook his head, weariness etching lines into his face she’d never noticed before.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means this black-and-white situation is neither. The villain in this scene is much more complicated, and you deserve to know the truth. Your mother made it difficult for your dad, and he went away rather than placing you and your brother in the middle of a contentious situation. I’m not excusing his part in this, but she played a part, too.”

“I don’t want to hear this. My mother has always had my best interests at heart.” Despite her words, the cold hand of truth clutched her throat, almost strangling her. Yanking free of Tyler’s grasp, she covered her face with her hands.

“I think you’re afraid she’ll cut you out of her life just like your brother. Her love is conditional: ‘Do this for me, and I’ll love you. Don’t do this, and I won’t.’ That’s bullshit. Pure and simple. Healthy parents encourage their children to have a relationship with both parents. They don’t do their best to poison it.”

“You don’t know anything.” Lavender hugged herself, praying she didn’t throw up.

“You’re an animal lover with no animals. I know you walk on eggshells around her. You pretend to be a rebel on the surface but it’s all show. Underneath, you conform to everything she asks you.”

“You’re wrong.” Her stomach churned and bile rose in her throat, as the obvious truth blindsided her.

Tyler crossed to the antique rolltop desk in the corner of the large room. He opened it and removed a large manila envelope.

“Take a look at this stuff. My sisters did some research for me. It’s all here. The records for child support your mother claimed your father didn’t pay, the deed on the property, all of it.” Tyler shoved the envelope into her hands.

Lavender stared at the bulging envelope. Her hands shook. If she looked inside, life as she’d come to know it might change forever. Truths she took as the gospel might be shaken to their very foundations.

She couldn’t look, couldn’t take that step.

She walked to the fireplace and tossed the alleged damning evidence into the flames. Turning slowly, she rubbed her hands together, squared her shoulders, and spoke clearly. “I’m not ready.”

His face changed. The hard, rigid lines gave way to affectionate concern. He managed a sad smile, but his brow furrowed with worry.

“I’m sorry.” He moved close to her.

Those two little words came across as heartfelt and genuine. Lavender’s heart wrenched and tears flowed down her cheeks. Obviously assuming she was crying because of her family drama, Tyler wrapped her in his strong arms. She tried to push him away, but he didn’t budge. He rubbed her back with gentle hands and murmured words of comfort in her ear. His husky voice tickled her insides and uninvited tenderness seeped to the surface. Caving, she buried her head in his chest and sobbed for all she’d lost and was about to lose in her life, most of all for this man.

Sure, she’d been pissed as hell at him for interfering, for shaking things up, for dredging up painful memories, but he’d done it with the best of intentions. A woman couldn’t hate a man for caring.

Caring?

He cared? Well, of course he cared. At least a little because as much as she tried to convince herself otherwise, Tyler Harris was a good guy. Sure, he had his asshole moments. Despite his best or worst intentions, the nice guy shone through. She almost laughed as she clung to him. He’d be appalled at how well she saw through him, but she’d keep it her little secret.

Lavender breathed in the alluring scent of soap and man. She could get used to not being strong all the time and letting him carry the load for a little while.

Yet precious times like these were fleeting and temporary. The man caused as much mayhem in her life as he did joy. She didn’t need the brand of roller-coaster romance that happened to be Tyler’s signature.

Still, for tonight and the next few weeks, she’d throw her hands in the air and scream for the thrill of it as that roller coaster careened around the corners on the wildest ride of her lifetime. And she needed that wild ride right now to wipe out the pain.

“Just make me feel better. Please.”

For a second, Tyler almost looked like he would turn her down, but his little head must have won the battle. He grabbed her and threw her over his shoulder as if her weight was insignificant. From her position, she zeroed in on his fine ass and took advantage of the situation. Raising her hand, she smacked one firm butt cheek. His fingers tightened around her thighs in response.

“You’re going to regret that.” He put his growled threat into action and smacked her butt. She yelped and tried to wiggle out of his grasp. Impossible. The man’s muscles held like a steel trap. He smacked her again.

“You know I like that.”

“I’m always one to give a lady what she likes.”

“Is that a promise?”

“You bet your sweet ass it is.”

And just like that the queen of denial mounted her throne and did what she did best—avoided the real problems in her life and substituted sex as a short-term solution.

A long-term resolution would have to wait for another day.