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10

TALLIE

I knew I would have to tell Holt the truth about Ford sooner than later. I was hoping I would have a little more time to figure out what to say or not to say, but the second I spotted him standing in the hotel lobby, I knew my time was up.

My chest tightened like it always did whenever he was near, but this time, it wasn’t the love I felt for him that pulled at me—it was fear: Fear of what he would think. Fear of what he would say and do when he discovered the truth.

God, I hate myself for letting this happen. I should’ve never let my father push me into a life I didn’t want, but I was scared.

Scared of what my father would do to him.

Scared that Holt would be dragged into a fight he couldn’t win.

Scared that my love for him wouldn’t be enough

I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought staying away would be better for us both.

But I was wrong.

Very, very wrong.

He was pissed at me. Anyone could see that, but as he stood there in front of me, staring at me with those same dark, determined eyes, I was struck by how much I’d missed him. It was overwhelming. I still loved him, just as I had back then, and it gutted me to see the hurt in his eyes.

I’d said the words— yes, he’s yours.

As if answering him would undo the years I’d stolen from him.

But I’d said it. I’d let it out, and as soon as the words left my mouth, I was hit with an overwhelming sense of relief. He might’ve been furious with me, but the secret was out. Holt deserved the truth. He always had, and now I had to face what came next.

“Damn. I can’t believe you did this.”

His voice was hard and cold, and I could tell by the look in his eyes that I’d broken something inside of him. “You have to give me a chance to explain.”

“There’s no explaining this, Tallie. It was one thing for you to go off and leave me and live your life in Paris. That was hard enough to swallow, but this… This is unforgivable.”

“I didn’t want to go. You know I didn’t.”

“Fuck, I don’t know anything anymore.” He turned and looked at Ford as he said, “I want to talk to him.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I wasn’t asking, Tallie.”

He had that determined look in his eyes, the same one he got when we were younger, so I knew there was no talking him out of it. I had no idea what he was going to say to him, so I pleaded, “Holt, he’s just a kid.”

“He’s my kid, and he has a right to know that he’s my kid.” The vein in his neck twitched with anger. “And yeah, I want to tell him I’m his father, but I know this isn’t the time or place. I just want to talk to him… I want to hear my son’s voice.”

I nodded and motioned for him to go talk to him. I could barely breathe as I followed him over to Ford. I felt like I was on the brink of a panic attack, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. It was really happening. Holt was finally going to meet his son, whether I was ready for it or not. Ford was still sitting on the hotel sofa, and he was so caught up with his video game that he didn’t even notice that we’d walked up.

I placed my hand on the top of his head, gently toying with his hair as I said, “Hey, sweetie. I have someone I’d like you to meet.”

“Hmm?”

Ford’s eyes narrowed as he looked over at Holt. “This is Holt. He’s an old friend of mine.”

“Hey, Holt.”

“Hey, buddy,” Holt’s voice was almost unrecognizable compared to the hard edge it carried moments ago. He sat down across from Ford as he asked, “What ’cha playing?”

“Minecraft.”

Ford kept his eyes trained on Holt. I could see the wheels turning in his head like he was trying to place him. He didn’t say anything more. He just sat there, staring at Holt with those big green eyes that matched his father’s, and it almost broke me.

“Minecraft, huh?” Holt leaned forward, glancing down at the screen as he asked, “You dodging all the creepers?”

“Trying.”

“How close are you to getting to the End?”

Ford’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve played Minecraft?”

“A time or two.”

“No way.”

“How else would I know that you gotta wear a carved pumpkin on your head in case the Endermen attack?”

“You beat the dragon?”

“Maybe.”

“That’s so cool.”

There was a pause, a quiet moment where they just looked at each other. It was a moment that made that knot in my throat even tighter. There was a time when I loved Holt more than anything in this world, and this was one of the many reasons why. He was strong and manly, but there was tenderness to him like no one I’d ever met.

Ford didn’t say anything, but I could see it in his eyes. There was a spark of recognition, like some part of him knew Holt was more than just an old friend of his mother’s sitting there next to him.

His voice was tentative but curious as he asked Holt, “You play a lot of games?”

“Hmmm, not like I used to. But there was a time when I played a good bit.”

“Which one was your favorite?”

“Call of Duty and Grand Theft Auto were pretty awesome, but those are a little much for a kid your age.”

“I haven’t played ‘em, but I’ve seen ‘em. They look pretty cool.”

“Mario Cart was pretty good when you played against the right person.”

“Ah, yeah. I like that one. I used to play it all the time with Kirby. He was my best friend back in New York.”

“Sounds like a cool kid.”

“He is. He wins most of the time, but only because I suck at it.”

Ford smiled, and at that moment, I felt the tears burning in the back of my eyes. I turned away, not wanting either of them to see me cry, but it was no use. This was what had been stolen from them. A connection that was so easy and natural it made my heart ache.

“Oh, I doubt that.”

“Maybe we could play sometime.”

“Maybe so,” Holt replied, his voice thick with emotion I knew he was trying to hide. “I’ll talk to your mom about it.”

I wiped at my cheeks and turned back to them. “Ford, why don’t you go grab a muffin or something, and then, we can head back upstairs and check on Nana.”

“Okay.”

Ford jumped off the sofa and started over to the complimentary breakfast, but Holt didn’t move. He just sat there with his hands clenched together as he watched Ford. Once he was out of earshot, Holt looked over to me with emotion in his eyes. “Thank you.”

My throat was too tight to respond, so I nodded and smiled.

“He’s pretty great.”

“Yes, he is.”

“When can I see him again?”

“Soon, but I’d like us to talk first,” I started. “There are things you should know.”

“Name the time and place, and I’ll be there.”

“How about tonight at seven? We could meet across the street at Reno’s.”

“I’ll be there.”

His face was void of expression as he turned and headed out of the hotel. I went over to the window and watched as he got on his motorcycle and started the engine. My chest was tight with worry and regret, but for the first time in a very long time, I felt a sliver of hope.

As I watched him disappear into traffic, I found myself thinking about how good we once had it. Holt went out of his way to show me how much he loved me. He was always bringing me flowers that he’d picked on the way to my house or taking me to explore special places around the city. I didn’t care where we went or what we did. I just wanted to spend time with him. He knew that, but that didn’t stop him from going out of his way to make me feel special.

My mind drifted back to one of the nights he took me out to the old boat ramp to look at the stars. It was a moment that had stuck with me, especially in the days after I was told he had died.

It was late fall. I’d just turned eighteen, football games were wrapping up, and the cool nights of winter were sneaking in. He was home on holiday leave and wanted us to have a special night together. He filled the entire bed of his truck with blankets and pillows, and he’d fixed us a picnic with sandwiches and chips. It wasn’t much, but it made the night even more memorable.

I looked over at him, amazed at just how good-looking he was. There was no doubt I was attracted to him. I always had been, but any girl in her right mind would be attracted to all those rippling muscles and his gorgeous face.

And good lord, those eyes—his eyes were what dreams were made of. But it was more than just his looks I was drawn to. He was brilliant and charming in a way you wouldn’t expect from such a tough guy, and he was thoughtful and loving, even when he wasn’t trying to be. I loved that he was protective, not just with me but with everyone he cared about.

“You didn’t have to do all this.”

“Yeah, I did.” He leaned over and kissed me on the neck. “Gotta make sure my girl knows how much I love her.”

“I do know.” He was still kissing me on the neck when I said, “That’s why I think it’s time.”

He eased back, and his eyes locked on mine. “You sure about that? Cause I’m good. We don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready to do.”

“I am ready,” I pushed. “I’ve been ready. I even got on the pill a couple of months ago.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was waiting for the right time.”

“And you’re sure this is it?”

“I’m more than sure.”

He gave me a look that made my breath catch in my throat. I’d dreamed of being with him a thousand times and couldn’t imagine wanting anything more. He brought his hands to my face, gently cupping his palms along my jaw as he lowered his lips to mine, kissing me with a passion I’d never even known was possible.

Our hunger for each other took over, causing the kiss to become wild and heated. In a matter of seconds, our clothes were tossed to the side, and Holt was lowering me down on the blanket.

What started as rushed and impatient desire slowly slipped into something soft and tender. I felt so safe in his arms, like nothing in the world could harm me as long as he was holding me close. We spent hours making love in the back of that truck, and when we were done, we were both exhausted and completely satiated.

I slipped back on my clothes and nestled up next to him as I stared up at the stars. As I lay there in his arms, I felt like everything was right in the world. I missed that feeling more than I cared to admit.

I was still lost in my thoughts when my phone chimed with a text message. I pulled it from my pocket and saw that it was a message. I had no idea how he got my number, but as soon as I read it, I knew it was from Holt.

Unknown:

Change of plans.

Meet me at my house at 7.

207 Dawson Road.

Me:

Okay.

I’ll be there.

I wanted to take it as a good sign that he was willing to talk to me, but I wasn’t so sure. Things hadn’t exactly been going my way over the past few days. There were still no leads on my father’s case—at least, none that Detective Joyner was willing to share with us. They had agreed to release Dad’s body, but it wouldn’t be until later in the week.

Thankfully, that gave us more time to plan his memorial, even though I wasn’t really feeling the need to remember my father and all the not-so-wonderful things he’d done. So, I let Mom and Rooks handle all the arrangements, and Ford and I spent the day at my shop. I still had a ton of unpacking to do, and it was a much-needed distraction from Holt and our looming conversation.

I had so many things I wanted to say to him. I just prayed that he would give me a chance to say them, and I hoped that he would understand why I did what I did. I tried not to obsess over it too much and focused on getting my displays completed. I was already days behind, and if I didn’t push it, I would have to delay my grand opening—which was pretty inevitable at this point. There was just too much that needed to be done and zero time to do it.

After working for as long as I could, I gathered up my things, and Ford and I headed back to the hotel. I took a shower and tried to find something suitable to wear. I was trying on my third pair of jeans when Mom popped her head in and asked, “How’s it going?”

“Not great.” I glanced at myself in the mirror as I groaned, “I have nothing to wear.”

“You look beautiful, Tal.” Mom stepped further into the room. “But then, you always do.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not. You really do look beautiful.”

“So, you think the sweater is okay?”

“I think it’s perfect, not that it really matters. Holt was never the kind to care about what you were wearing.”

“I just want things to go well.”

“I know you do, and I’m sure they will. You just have to be patient and give him time to process it all.”

I was still upset with her for lying to me, but she was my mother. She was the one I’d always turned to for things like this, so it was out of instinct that I told her, “I really hope you’re right because I don’t think I could stand to lose him again.”

“Just tell him the truth and hope for the best. That’s all you can do.”

“You’re right.” I glanced over at the clock, and when I saw the time, I gasped, “I better get going. Are you sure you’re okay with watching Ford?”

“Of course.” She smiled. “We’re going to go downstairs and have some dinner with Rooks, and then we’ll watch a movie or something.”

“Okay. Just be careful, and if anything seems off…”

“I know. I know.” She gave me a pat. “We’ll be fine. Now, off you go.”

“Okay. Okay. I’m going.”

I grabbed my purse, and after telling Ford goodbye, I rushed downstairs and out to my car. I put in Holt’s address, and then, I was on my way. I was a bundle of nerves, but not in bad way. No matter what the outcome, I was ready to sort things out with him.

It had been too long.

Too much wasted time.

Good, bad, or ugly, it was time to move forward.

I’d barely made it halfway up his drive when I spotted a big white dog with a thick, fluffy coat and a little gray and white goat wearing a pink collar with a tiny bell. They walked close together like they were old friends. I couldn’t help but smile despite the knot twisting in my stomach.

My chest tightened when I glanced past them and over to the little white farmhouse. It was a three- or four-bedroom home with a wraparound porch and oversized swing. And it had a big back yard with a barn off to the side.

I couldn’t believe it.

It was the house I’d told Holt I wanted when we were kids. He’d not only remembered everything I’d told him I wanted, but he’d made my dream a reality. He hadn’t given up on us. If only, I had done the same. But maybe, just maybe, there was still hope for us yet.