Bourbon Summer (Bourbon Canyon #6)

Chapter 20

CHAPTER TWENTY

Ruby

The weekend both crawled by and flew. Nothing had been out of the ordinary, but the entire time had felt different. Last weekend had been the same as the weekend before, only Tenor had returned after chores and taken me to town for a coffee and a stroll by the river. We’d chatted and he’d asked about any other hobbies and fun things I liked to do. At the risk of being underwhelming, I’d been truthful. I liked my job, and reading, and maybe I’d join a book club.

It’d been pleasant. But starting last Friday, the air had been thick. Full of unspoken thoughts. Not so much on my end. And now it was Sunday afternoon and we were nearing what I suspected was the reason for the odd vibe. We were meeting my parents in twenty minutes.

Tenor had taken his pickup and I was in my car. I’d be leaving for Bozeman from the court when the game was over. This time I found the courts on my own. Hard to get lost in such a small town. The football field and track sprawled beyond the small two-court enclosure. A row of tall bushes blocked the wind on one side of the chain-link fence. Sure enough, the brown sign attached to the fencing read Bailey Tennis Courts .

Tenor pulled in behind me and we both parked.

I stepped into the empty lot. “I’m surprised it doesn’t have ‘no pickleball allowed’ engraved along the bottom of the sign.”

“Tate convinced me that was going too far.” Despite his joking tone, Tenor’s shoulders were rigid as he dug his bag out and walked through the opening in the fence.

I tied my hair back with the band I kept on my wrist as Tenor dug out his tennis racket. He bounced a ball on the ground, then on his racket and back to the ground.

I sucked in a breath and willed the trembling in my stomach to stop. Today would go fine. My parents would love Tenor. Everyone did. Likewise, Tenor was so easygoing, he’d be cool with my dad’s abrasive nature. My mom would make sure Dad stayed in line.

“Want to warm up?” he asked when I retrieved my racket.

“Yes.” Anything to vent the nervous energy coursing through me.

We lobbed the ball back and forth, the dull thunk of our rackets mingling with the sounds of cars around us and kids playing at the playground across the street. Tenor was all fluid strokes and lean muscle. He could cross the court in a few steps while I sprinted and still missed the ball. When he ran, his T-shirt plastered to his chest while hanging baggy at his waist. Just as I was about to return one of Tenor’s slices, I caught a glint of a red pickup. My shot went high and wide, landing over the fence and in the bushes.

“Sorry!” I checked again. Yep. That was them. “They’re here.”

“I’ll get the ball. You greet them.” He jogged toward the other opening in the fence and went around to the bushes.

I exited through the one closest to me to meet my parents. Dad had parked. His smile was snide, a determined glint in his eyes.

I sighed mentally. Not today, Dad .

Mom hopped out, dressed in capri athletic leggings and a blue athletic top. Her chestnut hair was drawn back in a braid. “Hey, kiddo. Sorry we’re late.”

Dad got out, his eyes narrowed on Tenor and his mouth twisted up. Unlike Tenor’s long shorts and baggy shirt, Dad looked like he could swing a club or a racket in his green athletic polo and khaki shorts that hit midquad. “You know how your mother is. Bill didn’t leave her because of her nagging; it was because she’s always late.”

“You left the first time I was late .” Mom’s gaze filled with challenge. Dad had always given her shit about Bill.

There was a beat of regret in his eyes, but it was gone so fast I was probably deluding myself. Instead, Dad snickered and reached into the back seat just as Tenor trotted up. Glad he hadn’t gotten this quick of an introduction to Dad’s obnoxiousness.

Tenor politely smiled at Mom, his features guarded, and stretched his hand out. “Nice to meet you. Tenor Bailey.”

Dad jerked back from the open door of his pickup and slammed it. “Tenor Bailey? Veronica, is that what you were hiding?” Dad’s brows crashed together. “What the hell were you doing, Bailey? Trolling playgrounds to get with my daughter?”

“Dad!” Humiliation swamped me as my gaze jumped to Tenor.

Color leeched from Tenor’s face and his nostrils flared. “Robert Morgan?” he gritted out. His horrified gaze slid to me. “ He’s your dad?”

Dread fought against shock. “You two know each other?”

“Shit yeah,” Dad said, his tone hard. “Tenor and I go way back.”

Tenor’s jaw was granite. “I knew him as Bobby.”

Tenor

Bobby Morgan was Ruby’s dad. Fuck .

The last set was stretching on too long, but I would put a stop to it now. All I had to do was restrain myself from smacking this damn ball into Bobby’s tanned face.

Rage vibrated up and down my spine. I took a long inhale, bounced the ball, exhaled.

Ruby had declared that we wouldn’t play. Her mom had seconded that motion. Even Bobby had looked ready to pack it in, if only to get me away from his daughter. But there was no way I was letting Bobby fucking Morgan think he’d scared me off again.

I had hoped to never see him again. How was I dating his daughter?

It’d been big news when he’d gotten some girl in Bozeman pregnant, and I’d heard he didn’t have much to do with the mom. After graduation, he’d lit a path out of Bourbon Canyon and hadn’t returned. The last two years of school after he’d moved were the best two years I’d had since he’d first moved to town. I’d thought I was finally free of him.

Until today.

Ruby’s goddamn dad.

“Any day,” Bobby taunted. “Unless you’re waiting for my daughter to get older.”

I cringed and bounced the ball. Inhale. Bounce. Exhale.

“Dad, stop it.” Ruby’s voice was filled with disappointment and exasperation.

“Robert, knock it off.” Veronica’s tone matched her daughter’s.

Inhale, bounce, exhale. Ignore him. Like I had always done. I’d proved I wasn’t the weaker one. I’d been able to endure his teasing. Yet it hadn’t mattered. I just got those sympathetic stares. Those pitying looks. No one had seen me. They had just felt sorry for me.

Then Katrina had happened. She’d seen me. And I’d gotten those so sorry stares again.

I served. The thunk on the racket rang loud in my ear and the serve went wide. Fuck.

Bobby stuffed an index finger into the air. Even his signal for out was obnoxious.

Veronica retrieved the ball and tapped it back to me with her racket.

I caught it. Ruby cast a worried look my way. Did she want me to throw the game?

Or was that sympathy darkening the blue of her irises?

Everything I’d eaten for the last month curdled in my gut.

Memories scraped over my skin. The old feelings of being a spectacle. I was a grown goddamn man, but my childhood tormentor was right in front of me, targeting my weaknesses like he always had. Only this time my weak spot was Ruby.

The crawling sensation from being watched prickled over my skin. We had no spectators. It was just memories fucking with me.

I counted to five on my exhale. Relaxed. I called on the distance I used to find when Bobby confronted me. My fingers tightened around the yellow ball. If I didn’t ease up, I’d crush it.

He scuttled side to side, waiting for me. “Hate to break it to you, but you’re still old enough to be her dad.”

The ball hit my finger on a bounce and almost got away. I fumbled but caught it.

“Dad,” Ruby snapped, “we’re leaving if you keep doing that.”

Bobby held his arms out. “What? Am I wrong?”

It was a thirteen-year age difference. Wynter and Myles had almost the same gap.

But Wynter had been a little older when she reconnected with Myles, and?—

Dammit! He was getting in my head.

“It’s not right, Robert.” Veronica’s mouth was tight. “And you know it.”

Bobby dipped his chin down, his jaw sawing back and forth. Miracle of all miracles, he kept his mouth shut.

I ground my molars again and pictured the most perfect serve right to the corner and bouncing to the side. A nearly impossible hit to return. “Three–two,” I called and served again.

The execution happened as I had planned, only I played dirty and sent it to Veronica’s side. She was the less experienced player. Robert had been doing the same damn thing to Ruby. Veronica didn’t have the speed to return my serve.

Bobby threw his racket down. “Veronica! My grandma could’ve gotten that.”

“And she would’ve told you to shut your mouth or be polite,” Veronica shot back.

Chagrin flashed in Robert’s gaze. “She would’ve. Sorry,” he muttered, keeping his profile to me like I wasn’t supposed to see him apologize.

“Good game, guys,” Ruby said, coming to my side. She reached for my hand, but I pretended not to see, holding my racket, my knuckles white. I took the extra ball out of my pocket and crossed to my bag.

Robert prowled toward his bag on the other bench facing their side of the net. “Who knew Tenor here could play some tennis,” he muttered.

“He went to state,” Veronica said. When we all looked at her in surprise, she shrugged. “Robert’s not the only one who spies on your dates.”

“He took first at state,” Ruby said quietly, giving me a shy smile. But in the depths of her blue eyes was the pity I dreaded so much.

After all these years, people were giving me that look again. The I’m so sorry you’re a loser look. Only this time, it was coming from my goddamn girlfriend.

“No kidding?” Bobby sniffed and rimmed his hands around the waistband of his shorts. “I was gone by then.”

He was four years older than me, but he’d only been ahead two in school. His parents had started him in kindergarten when he was six and then he’d gotten held back in second grade. Sending him to live with his grandparents in Bourbon Canyon had been a last-ditch effort to keep him from getting held back again.

Too bad it had worked out for him. He’d stayed until he’d graduated at twenty, and he’d been fucking mean about it.

I loaded up my racket and grabbed my water bottle. Ruby straightened with her bag over her shoulder.

“I’ve gotta get going,” I said.

Surprise filled her eyes. “Oh. Okay.”

I felt like shit, but I couldn’t stick around Bobby Morgan.

“Why you rushing off?” Bobby bypassed his pickup to stand in front of mine.

The guy hadn’t changed as much as he probably thought he had. I was mildly impressed Ruby and her mother could get him to be less of a cocksucker.

Ruby squeezed my free hand. “Thanks for coming.”

I returned the squeeze, then let go.

Bobby folded his arms. His back was ramrod straight. “You have one conversation with us and suddenly you’re busy?”

I bit back a fuck off. Heat wicked up the back of my neck. That’s exactly what I’d been doing, but this wasn’t a typical meet-the-parents scenario. “It’s not like that.”

“I don’t get it. How do you have that much in common with a twenty-five-year-old?” Robert’s snide tone made me bristle.

Ruby clutched her tennis bag. “It’s not like that, and you can’t blame him for not wanting to hang out with you.”

Bobby’s right eye twitched, but his expression didn’t otherwise soften. “I’m afraid I know exactly what it’s like, Rubes.”

Veronica crossed her arms and smiled at me, her face strained with the effort. “Thank you for taking time to play with us, Tenor. Good game.”

I dipped my head. “Anytime.” But not with Bobby. I gave him a look that said as much.

Taunting blue eyes stared back at me. So much like his daughter’s.

“Still live at home?” he asked, a clear jibe.

“His place is really nice,” Ruby gushed. “A cabin in the mountains.”

“On Mommy and Daddy’s land?”

“It’s not your business, Dad,” Ruby warned.

“I’m worried about my daughter.” Bobby lifted his chin, undaunted. “I worked up to vice president of the company I work for. I learned the insurance game just to get in my boss’s good graces. I got nothing given to me.”

Veronica shook her head. Frustration flashed in her eyes. “Nothing except time. Since you weren’t the one hunting down babysitters. Come on. Let’s go.”

Robert at least had the grace to look abashed. He’d taken what he wanted as a teen. As an adult, he’d found out he couldn’t do that and get ahead, so he’d learned to play the game. It was more than I had done.

Katrina’s voice echoed in my head again. If your family hadn’t handed you everything, would you have made anything of yourself?

Then Bobby’s words from so long ago. Did you send your sisters after me? Little girls doing your job.

If I hung around longer, Ruby and her mother would keep defending me. They’d keep shooting me that goddamn look.

“Bye, guys,” Ruby said. Her tone held a note of finality.

I nodded my head toward Veronica. “It was nice to meet you.”

Bobby got behind the wheel, but not before shooting me a disgruntled glare. Veronica clambered in after giving Ruby a quick hug.

I needed to leave, but I didn’t move. My mind whirled, morphing old memories with new . Nepo baby. Man-child. Loser.

Ruby waved weakly as her parents backed up and drove away.

“Tenor?” she started timidly. “I honestly had no idea.”

“That your dad is my grade school nemesis?”

“I never would’ve guessed.”

He was worried about her dating me. A guy almost her dad’s age who was her boss. “Why didn’t you tell me that your dad grew up in Bourbon Canyon?”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d know him, and I’d heard he was a bullheaded kid.” She got the same sheepish look as her dad. Another reminder. Bobby Morgan. Her mom hadn’t married him. Ruby had her mom’s last name, and she’d called her dad Robert. I never thought of him as anything but Bobby. “I didn’t want to be judged for him—or by you when I was applying for the job.”

I barked out a laugh. “Bobby Morgan.” I shook my head. “Bullheaded is a tame word.”

“I had no idea, Tenor. I’m sorry.”

Just another goddamn I’m sorry because I’d been humiliated by someone who thought they knew me. I took my glasses off and pinched the bridge of my nose. “This isn’t going to work.”

The words were out of my mouth. I couldn’t grab them back. I rubbed the back of my neck. Shit .

Why had I said it?

I had to. She couldn’t stay with me after this. She couldn’t witness this, then watch me paint models and eat my mama’s cooking. She’d realize her dad was right. What did I have in common with a twenty-five-year-old?

I’d known this would happen, and I’d taken the risk anyway. I should’ve learned the first time.

Ruby’s wide gaze turned watery. “What isn’t going to work?” she asked quietly.

“Us.” A vise cinched around my heart. My lungs struggled to inflate. This wouldn’t work. It couldn’t work.

“Because of my dad?”

No.

Yes.

“He’s important to you, and I can’t stand him,” I finally said.

“He lives in Helena. You’re not dating him.”

“But he’s right.”

She drew back. “About what?”

“Your age.” My nepotism. What we had in common. I was her boss. Other than fucking, what was there? I was proving her dick weasel of a dad right.

Her eyes misted over. “You’re just not going to get over that? You’re not going to try?”

I stuffed a hand through my hair. My glasses hung limp in my other hand. Perhaps it was best not to see the fallout clearly. “This wasn’t meant to be. We should’ve stuck with the fake dating.”

“ You kissed me .” Her voice shook. “I like you, but I was prepared to walk away. I knew you wouldn’t be interested. And then you shared yourself with me... and—and the book scene...” Red crept up her face. “ You led me on. I kept thinking it was a dream, a fantasy, but I trusted you.”

I flinched. She was right. About it all. I couldn’t stay away from her. The weakness was me. “You deserve better.”

She stomped her foot. “That’s not for you to decide.” She fisted her hands at her sides. “I’m very much an adult. You showed me what you thought I deserved, and I thought it was you. Now you’ll let an old bully who talks shit for his hobby ruin this?”

“He’s your dad.”

“I can’t change that.”

“I went to school with him . ” Forget about him being my tormentor. We’d had some of the same classes. It was how he’d managed to find me and make fun of whatever I was doing, saying, or wearing.

She clenched her teeth and looked away, her eyes shining. Several moments of heavy silence passed between us. Guilt hung heavy on my shoulders. I should’ve never kissed her. I should have kept my dirty hands to myself. If I had, I wouldn’t be left knowing exactly what I was missing.

“You’re right,” she finally said and sniffled. “You set out to show me what a good boyfriend should be like.” She waggled her finger between us. “And this isn’t it. I do deserve better. I deserve a guy who adores me. A guy who would fight for me and not just... give up. A guy who will at least travel outside city limits for me.”

I flinched like she’d slapped me. Her words hit dead center of my chest.

“I knew you were holding back. That you didn’t want to want me, and that’s just... that’s just rude . You said I should have a guy who’s tripping over himself to be with me. Yet you’re clotheslining yourself to stay away.” She shook her head and her ponytail flung around. “I deserve so much better. I kept telling myself you’re not Brock.”

“I’m not like him.”

“And I’m not Katrina. Or my dad! But you’re acting like I am.” Her laughter was full of scorn. “And you’re using it as an excuse to string me along. I. Deserve. Better.” Tears spilled over her eyes and down her cheeks. “Goodbye, Tenor.”

Panic filled my chest, pressing into my ribs. It couldn’t be over.

Hadn’t I just declared it was? “Ruby?—”

She made a disgusted noise and slammed into her car. She started the engine and whipped out of the parking lot, leaving me alone.