Now and Then (9 page)

“Way too good. I think I ate an entire pie, as Tyler calls it, myself.” There was some rustling in the background and Ford’s voice tightened and then relaxed, making her wonder if he’d stretched out on the couch or maybe in bed. “But I’m pretty sure Ava packed in twice what I had. When I got home, I found her crashed out on my couch hiding with a hot pad on her stomach.”

She laughed, having trouble imagining someone so little eating twice what Ford could. “Your place?”

“Yeah, well, Sam had invited all the guys who work for him over. She’s got a key for emergencies, but she’s pretty free about using it.”

Okay, and good to know.
“So what you’re saying is, we’ll be spending all of our dates at my place?”

Because having firsthand experience with all Ford was capable of, his seeming indifference to location, and his incredibly short rebound time…the odds of little sis walking in on them at his place weren’t on Brynn’s side.

Ford laughed again and that deep rumble seemed to settle right in the center of her chest. “I’ve got a security chain. And believe me, Ava would rather dip her eyes in a bleach bath than see me hook up again.”

“Again?” she choked, torn between glee and jealousy. Because if it wasn’t her getting busted with him, the idea of Ford getting caught was pretty funny.

“Nothing spectacular, believe me. It was this one date I took Maggie on back before she and Tyler figured out they didn’t hate each other. She and Ava had made this asinine pact about going on a date a month and—anyway, I ended up getting screwed into taking her out. The deal was we had to kiss at the end of the date, and Ava and Sam set up shop to watch the security feed of the front stoop. It wasn’t pretty.”

“Are all of you completely nuts? Because every time I think I’ve heard where the crazy stops, you’ve got another story.”

“Pretty much every one of us,” he said, and she could hear the grin in his words. “We can’t all be as perfect as your family.”

Brynn shook her head, hating the wall of lies she’d built between them. “I may have overstated the extremes of their perfection. They have flaws.”

Her heart was racing. Because as scanty and vague as that qualification was, it was the closest she’d ever come to giving Ford the truth.

“Everyone does, Brynn.”

She waited for him to push for more, but when he asked her about the game, she let go of the breath she’d been holding and settled into the low wingback by the window. The second-story view of the parking lot wasn’t much to brag about, but when she looked up to the night sky she could almost pretend she was just down the street from Ford instead of all the way in Detroit.

She told him about Joe, the producer who’d taken her and Jet under his wing when they’d been working for the Brewers. How he’d brought them down from Milwaukee with him six years ago, and now he was taking a job with the Celtics. How she’d miss the guy, but there was no chance of her accepting his invitation to go along. A decision Ford heartily supported, surprise, surprise.

Ford told her about an idea he was working on for a new game, and then made her laugh until she cried detailing Tony’s deep depression when he realized Ava had finally made something called “sister status” and Maggie’s horrified dismay when she assured him he could still covet her from afar—only to learn she’d been cut from his lust list the afternoon before when her nursing bra pad had slipped and milk started leaking down her blouse like a waterfall.

They talked about an editorial piece he’d read that morning, and why women were so nuts for Adam Levine. They talked and talked and talked, until Brynn would have given just about anything to be able to fall asleep in his arms that night. Until she ached for the smell of him beside her. Until all she could think was that she only needed to get through another half day before he’d be lifting her off her toes to kiss her, and everything in the world would be right again.

There were times when having a confidant like Jet—a guy who knew where she came from and understood her life more than anyone else could—meant the world to Brynn, and then there were times like this.

“You’re an idiot.”

Brynn blew out a long breath and scanned the arena, empty but for the production crews and United Center employees working in preparation for the game. “No, no. Don’t sugarcoat it on my account.”

“Okay, you’re a fucking idiot. Hey, grab those cans for me, will you?” he asked.

She handed over the single-ear headset and waited until he’d gotten it adjusted over his ashy blond mop. “Why? I haven’t heard word one from Danny since he got out. And if I do, Ford and I agreed, what we’ve got going on isn’t anything serious. It’s just—”

“Yeah, fun. I heard you the first time. And babe, I’m not doubting the fun part. You’ve got a new way about you. A—I don’t know.” His mouth pulled to the side as he searched for the words. Apparently giving up, he waved a hand around in front of her face and then made a sort of hourglass motion with his hands, which she figured had something to do with her body. “Whatever it is, it’s pretty much screaming that you’ve been mainlining the fun. What I’m wondering is how such a smart chick thinks there’s even a chance what you are doing isn’t serious. Take a look in the mirror, Brynn. You’ve got ‘serious’ written all over you.”

Her arms crossed defensively. “But he doesn’t.”

A snort. Jet knelt down to connect the cables that ran from his camera back to the production truck. “And that’s a good thing?”

When she didn’t answer, he straightened. “Jesus. You actually think it is.”

Another guy running cable walked by and Brynn stepped in closer to the oldest friend she had. The one who knew more of her secrets than anyone else.

“Yes. I definitely think it is,” she said, her voice low. “You know what my life has been like. More than anyone else, you have to be able to understand why I’d be willing to take a hurt when this ends, so long as Ford can walk away unscathed when we’re done. And until then, I get to have…something I’ve missed for ten years. Is that really so bad?”

“Brynn, you deserve the joy. The fun. You deserve it all.” Jet hefted his camera and looked her in the eye. “But I think you’re kidding yourself about this working out as neat as you hope. You say this Ford isn’t serious, but how do you think you’re going to stop him from getting there?”

“Because we agreed,” she stressed. “And he’s got more experience than I do when it comes to keeping things casual, so…”

Jet shot her an apologetic look that had her belly hollowing out. “Then he’s definitely going to know
casual
isn’t what’s happening here. How can you think, if he is seeing what I’m seeing, he won’t take that as an invitation to let his heart off the leash? And shit, Brynn, how can you think you’re going to be able to walk away from this guy again and have it be anything but crippling? You let this go on, and I’m telling you, the end is going to be bad. Epically.”

Her heart had started to race, a sick feeling moving through her stomach. “But what if Danny doesn’t call? What if jail was enough to straighten him out?”

There was pity in the eyes that met hers. Pity and disappointment.

“You mean, what if this time he really is sorry? What if this time he’s going to be better? What if this time he can keep his promises not to hit again?” Jet was talking about his own father now. But the parallels were easy enough to draw and always had been. “He’s not going to stop, Brynn. Jail can’t fix what’s wrong with your old man. I’m sorry, but it doesn’t work that way.”

No. She knew better than to believe it did.

But the fact that she’d been the one to send him there? Maybe that was enough to keep him out of her life.

Rumbling down the Blue Line, Ford stood with legs braced apart, counting down the stops until they hit Damen. He was going to see Brynn tonight. It had only been two days—but goddamn, he missed her. They’d talked on the phone four times, twice late into the night. Twice short and sweet, just a brief call to share a joke and say hello. But after ten years without her in his arms, his bed, his life…talking wasn’t enough. Going two days without her was two days too long.

Rationally, he knew it was nuts. That it was too soon for the kind of ache in his chest he was experiencing without her. But it was there, and he couldn’t wait to get rid of it. Like he couldn’t wait for all the real relationship stuff to start. He wanted to meet her parents and her brother. He wanted to drive up to Milwaukee with her and see all the places she’d loved growing up. He wanted her to hang out with his friends and hold Penelope so he could see that soft-eyed look she always got when she was flipping through the photos on his phone amplified by Little Miss P’s precious body actually there in her arms.

Unfortunately, he had another two hours before Brynn would be back and it was too late to kill any more time with Mitch and Tony, who both had work the next morning. Which left him wondering how exactly he was going to make it without losing his freaking mind.

“So who’s the girl?”

Ford frowned down at Mitch, kicked back in the seat, his hands folded over his stomach. Sometimes the guy looked so much like his older brother, Tyler, it was freaky. “Which girl?”

Mitch met him with one of those pointed looks. “
Your
girl.”

Stretching his freckled, meaty arms behind him, Tony shook his head. “Ford hasn’t got a girl.”

And Tony saves the day.

One corner of Mitch’s mouth curved up as the other pulled down. “Sure he does. I’ve seen him coming home in the clothes he left in the night before about half a dozen times in the last two weeks.”

Or not. Shit.

Tony leaned forward. “Dude?”

“What, are you staked out at the window twenty-four-seven?” Ford asked, wondering if maybe he should have asked a few more questions before transferring Tyler’s Apartment Three lease to Mitch.

“Some nights I don’t sleep so great. I like the window.” Mitch steepled his fingers and pointed them at Ford. “You’re not a player picking up a different chick at every bar we hit, so who’s hosting all the sleepovers?”

Ford was about to brush him off. Dodge answering and ignore the push for info. Only then he was thinking about the way Brynn had said goodbye to him before she left. She’d been looking at him like she was going to be gone for two months instead of two days. Like she couldn’t get enough of his last kiss. And when she’d blinked too fast and turned away, he’d been almost certain there was a sheen of tears in her eyes.

He wasn’t wrong. It was happening, and the walls he’d been running into every time he pushed to get just a little too close were finally coming down. He knew that any day now—hell, maybe in a matter of hours—she was going to admit what was really between them.

He met Mitch’s eyes. “Brynn Ahearne.”

Jet had been right.

She was in over her head. Had been in over her head, probably from that first drink at the Pint Pub. But she hadn’t wanted to see. And even with Jet pointing out the obvious the week before, she’d refused to believe.

Because she’d wanted more. She’d wanted the dizzying crush of her shoulders hitting the wall opposite the front door when Ford first saw her after she’d been gone for back-to-back games out of town. She’d wanted the sleepy mornings with his arms wrapped tightly around her. She’d wanted to see that look in his eyes as he pushed inside her, the one that made her feel like
everything.

But one word from the man on the other end of the line, and now she knew.

It was over. And thanks to him, she would be left with
nothing.

She sat, balancing on the edge of her favorite chair, but finding no comfort there at all.

“Dad,” she answered, dread coating her skin like an oily residue. “How did you get this number?”

The laugh that sounded through the line was a weary one. And yet still somehow laced with the charm and charisma that had been luring everyone who knew better back in for as long as she could remember.

“Your brother gave it to me.”

Of course he had. Her mom sure didn’t have it. She was too deep in the dysfunction she called love to be relied on to do anything but give in to her husband’s requests. No matter what he did, how he betrayed her, endangered her, or hurt her, all it took was one of his seemingly heartfelt apologies and she was ready to line up for more of whatever he was offering that month—smooth lines, practiced lies, threadbare explanations, and promises he’d never keep. It broke Brynn’s heart not to be able to give her own mother her phone number or address, but that’s what it had come to. She still drove up at least once a month. And she called each week, but the number was blocked and no matter how her mother promised she wouldn’t tell Brynn’s father where she was, Brynn knew from experience it was a promise her mom couldn’t keep. She couldn’t bear to put either one of them in the position to be let down like that again.

Which had left her brother, Mickey. Because what if there was an emergency? What if something happened to her mom and she didn’t find out until it was too late?

She knew Mickey was going to screw her over nine times out of ten. He was as opportunistic as their dad—or nearly. But more than anyone, her brother understood the kind of toxic impact Danny had on their lives. After all, he’d been the one offered up as collateral to a loan shark for three days while their dad had gone to get the money he owed them. The money he’d spent on more bets and wouldn’t have been able to pay back without a last-minute upset in a college football game that ultimately saved her then fifteen-year-old brother from a fate she didn’t want to contemplate, but Mickey must have known. And because of that, she’d thought, in this one thing he could be trusted.

But once again, she’d been wrong. No one in her family could be counted on.

And now her dad had finally made the contact she’d hoped would never come.

“Don’t be so hard on him, baby girl. You had to know I’d get it eventually. He’s just doing what any good son would do. Easing his old father’s mind about the well-being and safety of his daughter.”

It was all Brynn could do not to laugh into the phone and then take the device into the kitchen and run it through the garbage disposal just to make sure her point got through. But these things cost money, and thanks to her dad, it seemed money was never something she would have enough of.

Of course, acknowledging his part in her financial strains wasn’t something Danny Ahearne would ever take responsibility for, so what was the sense in bringing it up again? Instead she got straight to what she was sure was the point of his call.

“What do you want?”

“To tell you you’re forgiven.”

She could hear him breathing on the other end of the line. Waiting for her to say something. Thank him, maybe? She didn’t know—couldn’t begin to think of how to respond to his words.

Did she need his forgiveness?

Did she feel guilty over her role in his incarceration?

Her mind tripped back to the last time he’d come to see her at her old place. To the guys who’d shown up looking for something Danny owed them. They hadn’t believed her when she said she didn’t know anything about it. And while she’d been telling the truth, sadly, they’d been right to come. Even now, a chill ran through her at the memory of huddling against the hall wall while Benny D.—one of O’Shea’s thugs, a guy only a few years older than she was—told her he believed her, but their boss had heard otherwise.

She’d nearly vomited when they pulled out that old duffle bag. Her dad had been carrying it when he’d visited, just stopping through on his way to an interview in Indiana, he’d said. Another lie, but one she’d been more than eager to believe. She hadn’t even thought about it when he left. But apparently, that bag had been hidden in her bedroom until the guy whose name she didn’t know pushed her dresser over with a crash.
Surprise!

That first flash of devastated heartbreak lasted only seconds before the anger and outrage pushed past, taking the lead. And then ironically, it was Benny D. with his thick arms around her, trying to calm her, telling her he knew what a raw deal she’d gotten. That he’d always liked her and he wished it hadn’t gone the way it had.

That he was sorry, but their boss had a point to make.

She watched as his partner either broke or packed up nearly every valuable she’d had. Pocketing the refurbished iPod she’d saved for and smashing the speaker base. Stomping on her laptop computer. Sweeping her dishes from their cabinets to the floor. Dumping the contents of her small jewelry box into his jacket pocket, taking her grandmother’s tiny gold cross necklace and the silver chain bracelet Ford had given her for her birthday, neither of any value beyond sentimental, but in that, both had been priceless.

Irreplaceable. Spilled into a pocket along with half a dozen meaningless department-store earrings and a tiny pewter bowl she set them in at night. Gone forever.

Her dad had known O’Shea’s guys would come. He hadn’t even had enough sense or concern for her safety to keep his mouth shut about where he’d been.

“I’m sorry, my Brynn girl,” he’d sworn, when he called days later. “You have to know, I never meant for my trouble to end up at your door.”

Yeah, he never meant for the things that happened to happen. But then he never changed his behavior, either. She knew his addiction to gambling was an illness, and there’d been a time when she’d begged and pleaded for him to get help. He’d even gone to meetings for a few months—until he had to stop because the scam he’d started running there got him into even more trouble.

That was the problem. What was wrong with her father wasn’t just one thing. It wasn’t just an addiction. Or just the company he kept. Or just bad judgment. Or just an overblown sense of entitlement and lack of conscience.

It was everything combined.

That was her dad.

And less than a month later, she got the next call from her brother. He’d barely been able to speak when he handed the phone over to her sobbing mother, who’d just been through a similar visit. That fast, her dad had done it again, betrayed the people he shouldn’t have messed with. Only this time he hadn’t left whatever they were looking for in the place they’d been looking.

Which meant when there was nothing to find, the point those goons needed to make had been different. Stronger.

They’d left her mother with a black eye, a sprained wrist, a broken rib, and the promise it would be worse the next time.

Brynn snapped, demanding her brother get their mom out of there immediately. Only he’d already tried, and she refused to leave the house where she’d raised her children. Apparently Danny had been devastated by what the thugs who’d been after him had done. He’d sworn he’d take care of everything and he’d begged for his wife’s forgiveness—which she’d obviously given, again. But Brynn hadn’t been interested in any of that.

Not anymore.

So she’d told her mom she wanted to come home and see for herself that she was okay. She needed to talk to her dad. When she’d disconnected the call, she didn’t even set the phone down before dialing the Milwaukee Police Department.

Sunday at five thirty-seven, her dad was picked up in the driveway of their house on an outstanding warrant.

It was the only thing she’d thought she could do to protect them.

But now Danny was back. And already she could feel him threatening a life and future that had been close enough she’d swear her fingertips had almost grazed it.

“I don’t need your forgiveness,” she stated. “And it’s not why you’re calling, either. So what do you want?”

Danny’s deep sigh sounded through the line, and she could practically see the wheels turning as he sized up his chances for whatever he was after.

“Back before I did my time, I made some mistakes. The stash at your place was only part of it.” He coughed off to the side, deep and rattling, before taking several slow breaths. Looking for pity, or was there actually something wrong? Was he sick, or just sick enough to use his health to manipulate her?

“I went to jail with an outstanding debt. I knew I was going to have to pay it back. Only now that I’m out, I don’t have the money.”

Oh God.
“What did you do?”

“I had an opportunity. An investment with a guaranteed payoff…if I could just land some capital to get in.”

“You borrowed.” And the “investment” tanked. And now he owed even more.

“I lost the money. It’s gone, honey. I put my faith in the wrong people…”

Her father was still talking, telling her what he owed. What was going to happen if he didn’t find a way to pay. How he’d thought he’d finally found the means to get free of all this. How he’d been trying to do the right thing. For all of them.

The room rocked around her, the walls tumbling in until there was nothing but her single point of focus. The door Ford would be walking through within the hour.

She couldn’t let him become a part of this.

Because it was never going to end.