Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Tanner hadn’t expected to take over as Faith’s date tonight. But she’d looked so disappointed and dejected. Like all kinds of self-defeating thoughts were running roughshod through her brain, tearing up her confidence.
He knew exactly how it felt to think you were making progress, to get your hopes up, and then, wham—end up back on your ass again. It sucked.
She deserved something special, and no way was he going to let her down.
He picked up the takeout bag with one hand and led her across the street with the other.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“To a spot I know.” He paused. “If that’s okay. You trust me?”
She didn’t answer right away. “I do.” She sounded certain, like she’d really considered it.
He glanced at her sandals. “Are your shoes comfortable? The spot I’m thinking of isn’t too far, but it’s all relative.”
“Didn’t you drive here? I would’ve, but I don’t have a car.”
“I walked from the office.”
“In flip-flops?”
“I like the wind between my toes.”
She laughed, and the sound made him smile. “My shoes are fine. Let’s go.”
It was that time of twilight when the sun had disappeared below the horizon, yet the sky still blazed with fading color.
As they strolled along the paved beachside path, Faith’s hand remained in his. “Being near the ocean is my favorite part of living in West Oaks,” she said. “Aside from Sylvie, of course. Back home, the beach was so far away we only went a few times. And it wasn’t this pretty.”
“I’m totally an ocean guy. Give me water and sand and fish tacos, and that’s pretty much all I need.”
He glanced at her sidelong. The breeze was ruffling her hair across her face. He wished he had a third hand so he could tuck it behind her ear.
“Did you grow up on a cattle ranch, like Sylvie?” he asked.
“Actually, my dad’s a dentist. My mom stayed home with me and my four brothers and sisters.”
“Are you the oldest?”
“I am. How’d you know?”
“Lucky guess.” He paid attention to people. Being observant had served him well, both in the military and as a bodyguard. But it wasn’t exactly hard work paying attention to Faith.
“Did you grow up near water?” she asked.
“No, I wish. I grew up near Bakersfield.”
“Where’s that?”
“It’s north of here, in the Central Valley. Hot as hell in the summer, foggy in the winter. Couple hours to the beach, but I didn’t even know that until I was in high school.” Most of his family had stuck close to home. He was the weirdo who’d joined the Navy and traveled the world.
They walked in silence for a while. The path led to a set of stairs onto a raised walkway along the sea wall. At the top, Tanner pointed to a bench.
“We missed the main part of the sunset, but it’s still a great view.”
“Wow,” she breathed, settling in. “It’s incredible.”
“It is.” He forced his eyes to examine the view instead of her.
The coastline curved into the distance, and lights winked from ships out near the horizon. People milled on the beach below. Tanner liked sitting up here, being a part of things yet separate, too.
“Also a great spot for a picnic.” The plastic takeout bag crinkled as he set it in his lap. They took out the boxes. “You ordered a lot of food.”
“It was Luke. I’ve never had sushi before, so he made all the choices.”
“Poor kid, didn’t even get to eat his dinner.”
“I know. But it’s not like he paid. Then I really would’ve felt bad.”
“Good thing. This would’ve taken his whole allowance.” Tanner was glad when Faith giggled. He was always willing to laugh at himself and expected his friends to do the same. Laughter had a way of taking the sting out of shitty situations.
“So, never had sushi before?”
“I haven’t had the chance,” she said defensively. “I want to try new things.”
“I admire that. It’s not where we come from, it’s where we’re going.”
“I’m not trying to say I’m ashamed of where I’m from. There’s good in it, too. But I want…more. I’m tired of missing out.”
“Why have you been missing out?” he asked gently.
Faith turned away, her focus on the far-off distance. “I thought I could save someone who didn’t want to be saved. Then I realized if I didn’t protect myself, nobody would.”
Tanner couldn’t tell if she meant that literally. But either way, it worried him. “You needed to protect yourself from your ex?”
“From his mistakes.”
“Are you safe from that now?”
“As long as Jon stays out of West Oaks? Sure.” She huffed a laugh. “Sorry. All that sounded way more serious than I meant it to. Can we eat? I’m starving.”
He knew a deliberate change of subject when he heard one. Tanner had pulled that maneuver enough himself. But if she didn’t want to tell him, he wouldn’t push.
He popped open the first lid. “Let’s see what we’ve got here. Tuna, that’s yellowtail, eel…”
“Eel?”
Tanner narrowed his eyes. “Now we know where you should start. Embrace the fear.”
“I’m not scared.” Gingerly, she picked up the rectangle of rice and fish and nibbled the edge of it.
“You have to put the whole thing in your mouth.”
“Oh, do I?” She started snickering.
“Faith, get your mind out of the gutter. Haven’t you corrupted enough innocents for one night?”
She shoved the piece of sushi into her mouth and chewed. Her face went from hesitant to surprised. “It tastes like…barbecue.”
“I know, right?”
“Is there more?”
He tilted the box. “You can have the other piece.”
Watching her eat was more entertainment than he’d had in a while. Her face was so expressive. She kept closing her eyes, making humming sounds. Making no secret of her enjoyment.
Okay, it was kinda turning him on.
Finally, she protested that she couldn’t fit another bite, and he helped finish up the rest. His appetite had returned with a vengeance. Now, she was the one watching him eat. Tanner made the same kinds of faces and noises she’d been making, only even more over the top.
“Damn, that’s good.”
She poked his side. “Don’t make fun of me.”
“Imitation is the highest form of flattery.”
“Is that right?” She dug her fingers into her hair to tousle it, then pulled some of the long strands to cover the lower half of her face. “Wingman for hire.” Her voice was gruff. “Pay me in fish tacos or sushi.”
He turned toward her, arm stretching over the back of the bench. “It’s like looking in a mirror.” He smoothed his beard.
“I’m also available for practice first dates,” she said in the same ridiculous growl.
“How am I doing with that so far?”
She dropped her hair. “Not bad.”
“Not bad?” He grabbed the trash and threw it into the nearest garbage can. “Let’s see if I can improve my rating at the next stop.”
“There’s more?”
“I promised you this would be epic.” He held out his hand again, and she took it. Her skin was cool and smooth. “I can’t have you telling future customers my dates are just ‘not bad.’”
Her face lit up when she saw where they were going.
As they neared the boardwalk, the path grew denser with people. But the open air above his head kept the buzz of unwelcome thoughts to a whisper. Or maybe it was Faith’s hand in his.
Upbeat music and happy shouts drifted over from the game booths.
“What should we play first?” he asked.
“This one. It’s my favorite.” Faith dragged him toward the milk bottle game.
He dug a few ones out of his pocket. “Okay, but the winner gets to pick the next game, and the loser has to pay.”
“You’re on.”
Tanner handed the bills to the game operator.
He picked up the first beanbag, tossing it in his hand. He missed. Same with the next one, though it was closer.
“Ouch,” Faith said. “The big strong bodyguard can’t even hit a stationary milk bottle?”
“That was a warm-up.” The next beanbag grazed one, but they didn’t tip. “Oh, come on.”
“My turn.” Faith grabbed a beanbag. She eyed her target for a moment, shifting her feet back and forth. Finally, she wound up her arm and threw.
The beanbag hit the lowest tier at the perfect angle. The bottles toppled over. She threw her arms up and jumped up and down, shouting.
The operator gave her a fuzzy blue teddy bear, which she tucked into her purse so its head stuck out.
Tanner clapped his hands. “We’ve got a ringer here.”
“Surprised?”
“Not really.” With Faith, he was quickly learning that he should be prepared for anything. “Where to?”
Faith got a devious look in her eyes. “I know the perfect thing.”
She grabbed his hand, pulling him along behind her.
“Step right up, test your strength on the high striker,” a barker shouted. “Who’s mighty enough to ring the bell?”
Tanner laughed, just shaking his head. “I’m happy to show off for you, if that’s what you want.”
Faith shrugged. “We’ll see. I’m giving you the chance to redeem yourself after that devastating milk bottle loss. Hopefully, you’ll make use of it and not choke.”
That sounded distinctly like a challenge.
The operator’s eyebrow’s shot up as he approached. “I’ll take a swing,” Tanner said.
The man accepted his money. “Gather round, folks. Contender for the world’s strongest man right here. Let’s see what he’s got.”
Faith smirked. “No pressure.”
“What you don’t know is, I’m at my best under pressure.” Tanner took the mallet, weighing it in his hand. He swung it in the air, getting a feel for it.
A ring of people had gathered to watch.
Tanner lifted the mallet above his head a couple of times, enjoying the grumbles around him as he kept frowning and readjusting like a ballplayer stepping up to bat. But finally, he swung the mallet upward and brought it down on the target. The bell rang, and the crowd cheered.
He turned to Faith, and her grin was the biggest of all. That was worth every prize in this place put together. “Did I redeem myself?” he asked.
“That was…”
“Don’t say ‘not bad.’”
She pursed her lips together, which only made him focus on her mouth.
This isn’t a real date, he reminded himself. She’d just said it a few minutes ago—this was only a practice. Fun between friends.
After a few more games, they got ice cream cones and walked back down along the beach.
They each took off their shoes, their feet pressing into the soft wet sand. The lights of the boardwalk reflected off the waves as they strolled along the shore.
“It’s surreal, being here right now,” Faith said. “Walking on the beach, eating sushi. I never would’ve thought a year ago I’d be doing all this.”
“Why not?”
Faith blew out a heavy breath. “I’ve been miserable for a long time. Practically since before I got married.”
“What happened?”
She stopped and stared out into the waves.
“Sylvie and I were best friends in high school. We had this grand plan where we’d both go to school in Austin and have all the freedom we’d been lacking.
But I got waitlisted. I chose a school closer to home and was still hoping to transfer.
” Faith shrugged. “But then, Sylvie decided to follow her cousin to California. Just like that, she was gone.”
“Did she ask you to go?”
“Yep. I almost did. But I let my parents talk me into staying. They didn’t have to work that hard, though. I was so scared of failing and having to come back home, so I… I made some reckless, stupid choices that guaranteed I couldn’t leave. And I got stuck with Jon as a result.”
Tanner could tell there was a lot more to that story. But he didn’t want to pry if she wasn’t ready to talk about it. Talking about the past could be overrated.
“I’m just so sick of missing out. On love and affection and…” A smile broke through her world-weary expression. “And sushi.”
It made his heart sick to think of Faith living a life without love. She deserved all of that and so much more.
“You’ve done a lot of the work getting yourself here, opening up to new experiences,” he said. “You’ll find what you’re looking for.”
“What if I’ve already missed it? I just feel like I’ve wasted so much time.” She shook her head as if to clear it, then took another bite of her melting ice cream. “I’m scared of making the same mistakes. Getting stuck and settling for an easy life, even if I’m not happy.”
Tanner finished his ice cream cone. “You have to get comfortable being uncomfortable.”
She made a skeptical face. “That sounds like a bumper sticker.”
“I’m serious. The more you can exist with physical discomfort, the less any type of stress will affect you. Then you’ll never be tempted to choose what’s easy instead of what fulfills you.”
“What am I supposed to do? Wear flip-flops for miles-long walks?”
“That’s an option. Or what about taking a nighttime swim in a freezing cold ocean?”
She looked over at him, eyes wide. “Do not tell me that’s act three of this date.”
“It wasn’t until now. But if you need to practice getting uncomfortable…”
“If you want me to get in that water, you’ll have to pick me up and throw me in.”
“That could be arranged.”