Chapter 30 Taryn #2
When we pass a furniture store, though, I drag my thoughts away from wondering why Gabe never introduced me to her when I lived here before and back to the larger question of the furniture business.
I didn’t realize there was a furniture shop in town, but it seems like the ideal place to show off some of Gabe and Gunner’s designs.
And suddenly I want to see them.
I put the question of Sammy and my introduction to the side—because honestly, I’m guessing Gabe didn’t introduce us because he was worried about what trouble we might get into—and suggest we go into the shop.
Sammy rolls her eyes. “That place? So. Boring.”
“Yeah, but also so important,” I note. “I’m trying to figure out what’s going on with Gabe and Gunner’s business.
Sammy grows serious so suddenly I feel like I’ve just crossed into another dimension with a stand-in version of her, and eyes me carefully. “They’re letting you help with the business?”
“Well, not on purpose,” I say quickly. “Actually they don’t know I want to help at all. But—”
“But it’s failing, and you think you can fix it,” she fills in. “You thinking you can fix Gunner and Gabe, too?”
Okay, this girl definitely knows more than I realized, and has a brain quick enough to see right through people. I make a note to ask her all of my questions later. Once I can get her away from town and Gabe’s prying eyes.
“I don’t think there’s any fixing those two,” I tell her frankly. “They won’t even let me in.”
She pulls her bottom lip into her teeth and stares at me for a beat too long.
“And yet you’re here for Christmas. Gunner hasn’t sent you home yet.
And Gabe is escorting you around town. I’m guessing you’re in deeper than you realize.
” Her expression changes again, flashing back to the playful troublemaker, and she takes my hand and tugs.
“Okay, I’ll endure the boredom of the furniture store for a little.
But in exchange, you’re going to tell me exactly what goes on in that house when no one is watching. ”
We stroll into the furniture store, and I’m met with a range of both personalized and standard furniture.
Some of the stuff in here is straight out of a catalog—and not a nice one—while other pieces have been hand carved from blocks of natural wood.
There are tables and chairs, couches, reading chairs, bar stools, side tables, and even a pool table, along with a number of sculptures.
It’s beautiful and well displayed, and the place smells of wood and clean upholstery.
But I don’t recognize anything as Gabe or Gunner’s.
“Is the owner here?” I ask the only salesgirl I see.
“Sure, in the back,” she says, nodding toward a door that leads into a second room.
Sammy and I walk in that direction, our eyes on the furniture and Sammy talking a mile a minute.
“I know the owner, actually. Thomas. I went to school with his son. Good people. Really artsy.”
“You went to school up here, then?” I ask, surprised. How the hell would she have gone to the same school I was in and kept herself hidden? This girl is the opposite of subtle. I can’t imagine walking into a room she was in and failing to notice her.
She snorts. “If you can call that one-room hellhole a school. Sure. I grew up here, same as Gabe. How else would we be related?”
Except they’re not related, which I say.
She laughs at this and launches into one of the most complicated stories I’ve ever heard.
She’s never met her real father, as he was only in the picture long enough to get her mother pregnant.
Her mother stayed in Hawke’s Wood, though, and had the baby, then got married to another man.
Before that could lead to anything she died in a car accident, leaving a toddler girl behind.
And the new guy left town.
“So I grew up at my aunt’s house,” she finished. “With my stepbrother.”
“Wait, stepbrother?” I ask, my mind scrambling to catch up. “You mean your aunt’s kid?”
“No, Aunt Sue doesn’t have any kids. I mean Chris. My dad’s other kid.”
I shake my head. “Your dad was married to someone else after he was married to your mom?”
“Not my real dad. My stepdad. He had a kid with some girl from out of town who ditched the kid with his dad and never came back. So when he married my mom, he brought that kid along with him. And then when my mom died, we both ended up with Sue.”
This is like a fucking soap opera. I’m not even sure I have it right. And I have one very big question left.
“So this guy had a son and then got married and gained a stepdaughter. You. Both moms are out of the picture, and this guy is...?”
Not in the picture, evidently, since the two kids ended up with this Aunt Sue person.
Sammy shrugs and makes a face. “He didn’t stick around, either. Military guy. Left the moment he got new orders and didn’t come back until a few months ago.”
I struggle to put all of that together, then realize I still don’t have the full story. “So how are you related to Gabe? You’re a stepcousin. That would make... your stepdad...”
She turns large, luminous gray eyes on me. “My stepfather is Gunner’s brother,” she says quietly. “And he’s a fucking son of a bitch.”
Gunner’s brother?
I even know Gunner had a brother.
Though if what Sammy is saying is true, that’s because that brother has barely spent any time in town.
We step into the back room then, and I look around to find this Thomas person.
It doesn’t take long; he’s the only one back here.
I walk toward him, hand extended, and do my best to explain who I am: Gunner’s ex-stepdaughter, back in town for Christmas.
I ask why he doesn’t carry any pieces from Gunner and Gabe, and the man shakes his head like this is a stupid question.
“I’d love to, but Gunner won’t hear of it. Every time I ask he says he doesn’t need the fucking help. Says his grandfather did just fine without putting his furniture in a shop, and Gunner is going to do the same.”
I’m shocked at this. What sort of businessman doesn’t want as much exposure as possible? I don’t know much about their business, but I know that if you’re making a product, you want as many eyes on it as possible.
When I say as much, though, Thomas shrugs.
“I would have thought that at one time, and Gunner would have agreed with me, but something’s changed about him in the last four years. He’s closed down. Gotten stubborn. Ornery. No talking to him anymore.”
That doesn’t make any sense.
Except it does, because I’ve noticed the same thing about him. Thought the same thing. He’s not the man I used to know.
Evidently that reaches further than just the house.
I turn and walk toward the exit, lost in thought. Gunner has spent years alienating his own son and withdrawing from the world around him, by all accounts, and it’s hurting every aspect of his life. His relationship with Gabe is practically nonexistent.
He’s sinking his grandfather’s business with lack of vision and stubborn pride.
This isn’t the man who used to fill my world with sunshine. It’s not a man who’s even going to survive the next year.
What the fuck have I walked into?
I’m so caught up in my thoughts that I don’t see the guy standing right outside the door until it’s too late.
I barrel into his chest and bounce off, feeling like I just walked into a brick wall, and when I look up, I see a man who looks so much like Gunner that I do a double take.
Broad cheekbones. Wide blue eyes. Lush lips surrounded by scruff. Square jaw.
A body that looks like it’s been chiseled from stone.
The only difference is that this man is dark where Gunner is light. Gunner’s auburn hair is replaced by deep chocolate brown, and the mouth that’s meant for smiling on Gunner is turned down on this man. Surrounded by lines that say he’s seen something harder than Gunner has.
Something darker.
His eyes move up and down my body, leaving a chill behind, and then snap to Sammy.
“What are you doing here? I thought you were at the house.”
The girl grows very still beside me, and then she loops her arm through mine, her fingers stiff on my skin. “Taryn asked me to show her around and give her a ride home,” she says quickly. “We’re on our way to the market.”
His eyes narrow and he’s about to answer her when she suddenly tugs me away, eliminating his ability to answer.
“Let’s get out of here,” she mutters. “Where else do you need to go?”
“The market, like you said,” I say, surprised. “And then I need a ride home. How did you know that? And who is that man?”
“I figured you would, because Gabe deserted you,” she says quickly. “And that man is Barrett Hawke. My stepfather.”
Barrett Hawke. Gunner’s brother.
Who he’s never even told me about.