Falling for the New Guy. Nicole Helm
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I know that phone of yours tells you who’s calling.”
Marc stepped into his room, gingerly closing the door and hoping Tess wouldn’t notice.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Much better. Now, I need to talk to you about next Friday.”
“Next Friday?”
“Your father and I bumped up our trip. I’m hoping if we get a house lined up it might spur your sister or Jacob on in the engagement process.”
Marc closed his eyes. A weight settled in his chest. A helpless feeling that he’d moved here for nothing. Mom wasn’t ever going to look up and say, “Why, Marc, you’ve been a kind of exceptional son. Thank you for that.”
Because all that mattered was Leah. Now Leah and Jacob.
Which shouldn’t be something he got so tied up about. He should be adult enough to accept it and move on. But he was here, so the likelihood of that was slim at this point.
“Marc?”
“I was looking at my schedule. I can’t take off, but I’ll still be on days, so I’ll be free after four every day. How long are you staying?”
“Two weeks. More if I can finagle it.”
“Okay, well, I’ll have Monday and Tuesday off.”
“That’s fine. Leah said she can take off whatever days we’re here. Your father and I can always entertain ourselves, or Jacob said MC’s doors are always open. But of course we’ll want to have you come over for some family meals, too.”
We. Come over. To Leah’s house. Even though he’d moved here because they’d asked him to so they could be one big happy family, and being the idiot he was, he’d thought that would put him on equal footing. He’d thought that meant he mattered.
But he was being invited to dinners like an outsider while they stayed with Leah and Jacob.
He needed this conversation to be over. “Yeah, sure. Just keep me up-to-date.”
“Have you spent any time with your sister?”
“I stopped by MC the other day, and we’re going to have lunch next week.” Although with Mom and Dad coming maybe he could get out of that. Hell, maybe he could get out of the whole damn thing. Maybe he’d moved here for them, but if they still didn’t want to see him...maybe he didn’t need to be seen.
“I’ve got company, Mom. Gotta go.”
“Oh, what kind of company?”
“A friend from work.”
“Oh.” Mom’s disappointment was palpable, but at least that was something. If he really wanted her to care, he could probably mention the friend from work was a woman. A very attractive woman.
But as desperate as he was for his mother’s attention, he wasn’t that bad. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Sure, sweetie, love you.”
“Yeah. Love you, too.” He clicked End and tossed the phone on his bed. Maybe Tess had the right idea about ignoring the parental phone calls.
Yeah, because her father is an abusive jerk, not because she’s pathetic and desperate for attention like a four year old.
Years of self-flagellation didn’t change the fact that he was always looking for the crumbs of attention his parents deigned to throw his way. Could he break the habit now? Maybe he should try.
Maybe he and Tess could be each other’s distraction. Not sexually. If he reminded himself of that enough, maybe he’d believe it. He stepped out of his room, leaving his phone inside.
“Sorry about...” He blinked at the empty kitchen, then looked around the living room. She’d...left?
He should not feel disappointed. Then he looked down at her pan of brownies, a generous chunk missing, a little note on top. Had to run out for a bit. See you tomorrow.
He should let it go. This was none of his business. He was the distraction friend. He didn’t need to be more than that. Maybe he was overreacting to think she was going to see her father. Maybe it was something else. He didn’t know everything about her life.
But all the rationalizations in the world didn’t stop him from shoving his feet into his shoes and jogging out the door, not even bothering to lock the dead bolt, which was unheard of.
He took the stairs two at a time and pushed out the building door to the parking lot. Tess was just opening her car door.
“Tess!”
She stopped and looked up at him, her expression some mix between sheepish and defeated. “Hey, sorry I had to bail. I...”
He crossed to her side of the car, only a little out of breath. “It’s okay, I just...” He just what? Hated the idea of her going to see her father alone? “If you’re going to see your dad, let me come with you.”
Her eyebrows drew together, clearly perplexed. “Um, no. I’m sorry. Thanks for the offer, really, but I can handle this.”
He reached out and took her arm, couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help any of this. Maybe she was right and he did have some misguided superhero sense of duty, but how could he watch her go into a situation that could get her hurt?
His thumb brushed over where she’d had the gash on her arm that first night. “Maybe you can, but a little backup couldn’t hurt.” Because if she did come back scathed, how would he be able to live with having let her go?
“I know you think the cut thing was him hurting me on purpose, but it wasn’t.” She patted his hand that grasped her arm. “The glass broke and a shard got me. He didn’t, like, come up and slash me.”
“How did it break?”
She blinked then looked away. “Well...”
He had seen that look before. Almost always on a woman convinced she was at fault for another man’s violence. “Well what?”
“He threw it.”
“Where?”
“At me.” She let out a gusty sigh and disentangled her arm from his grasp. “Look, I get it, really. I know what it looks like. But...he isn’t a monster. It’s not like he spent my whole life beating me. When he’s bad off, he gets violent. Yes, occasionally I get the brunt of that, but I can take care of myself, Marc. I’m a cop, too.”
“Tess—”
“I’ve done the bring a big-burly-guy-to-be-my-protector thing before. My boyfriend right out of high school was a bodybuilder. Bigger than you, Mr. Football Shoulders. All it did was agitate Dad from the start. He and James got in a brawl. Besides, he knows who you are. You’re the cop he wasn’t too pleased with the other day. So it would only escalate the situation.”
“So don’t go.”
She shook her head, looking immeasurably sad. So much worse than his own lame-ass pity party a few minutes ago. “I can’t let him kill himself or hurt other people. I have to fix this. I’ve been dealing with this my whole life. I know how to handle it.”
“If it’s been going on your whole life, why do you think you can fix it?” There had to be some way he could convince her not to go, to stay here, safe.
“I do sometimes fix it, thank you very much. I have gotten him help before, and things go okay for a while. But addiction isn’t easy to break.” She poked a finger into the center of his chest. “I appreciate what you’ve done for me so far, but I’m not about to let you think you can elbow your way into my life or my business. I can handle this.”
“I’m not saying you can’t.”
“Oh, really.”
“He