Chapter 4
Chapter Four
It was easy to settle back into a routine with Ty. He’d come and gone practically her whole life, so finding spaces for him was old hat.
Lara didn’t remember him being quite so shirtless before, always coming out of the bathroom after having taken a shower—a little damp and only half dressed—usually when she was just stumbling awake.
She hadn’t quite stopped jolting at that, but everything else was normal. He was making noise about finding a different job, finding a more permanent place to stay, but he hadn’t done it yet.
“I’ve got an interview at the post office,” he said at dinner, a week into his stay. “I could do some ride share driving too, at least enough to scratch up some rent. Someone said something about the marine research center needing a janitor, so I’ll apply for that too.”
Lara shared a look with her grandmother, seeing the same disapproval she felt.
These were fine enough jobs, but a man with his experience should put it to use.
Grandma had talked to the principal of the high school herself, and they needed a freshman baseball coach for spring. It was the perfect thing for Ty.
Neither of them could seem to figure out how to convince him without being too pushy. And Lara didn’t want to push Ty. He was a grown man who could make his own decisions.
But couldn’t he see what an asset he’d be? How much coaching might give him that playing never could. He was a born helper. Working with kids would be good for him. In fact, she thought it’d be healing for him.
“We need a janitor,” Grandma said. “I’d be pretty offended if you took a job at the marine center instead of with us.”
“Come on, Mary Lou. What I do for you guys is just…volunteer work.”
“It could be a job,” Lara insisted. And they could give him hours to work around a baseball coaching schedule if he needed it. “It only hasn’t been before because you’re usually only home for a few weeks at a time.”
“I’m staying here, eating your food. I’m not taking a wage on top of it.
” He got up and began to clear the dishes.
End of conversation not spoken verbally, but there all the same.
“I told Keane I’d meat him at Seaglass tonight,” he said, rinsing off the dishes while Lara got up to help load the dishwasher.
“If we’re out too late, I’ll just crash with him. So don’t you two go worrying over me.”
He didn’t seem too happy about it, even if he did smile. Lara could see behind that fake front. So could Grandma—as evidenced by the fact that when Lara looked her way, Grandma jerked her chin toward Ty’s back. A silent fix it.
“I can come with, if you want,” Lara said, her own fake smile in place. On more than one occasion over the last few years she’d tagged along on an outing to Seaglass with Keane as a kind of…emotional support.
Because of his dad, Ty had a complicated relationship with alcohol and people drinking too much—which had become more and more of a Keane specialty since his fiancée had left him at the altar. Hard to live down in a small town.
But Keane was kind of her friend too. They’d all grown up together. It was just she didn’t have a lot in common with him, so they didn’t really hang out unless Ty was home. Ty was their thing in common.
“You don’t have to do that,” Ty told her.
No, she didn’t have to, but she was going to.
Once they finished the dishes, Lara went to her room to change.
Seaglass called for something a little more casual than the fall-themed dress she’d worn to work today, so she put on jeans and a form-fitting black t-shirt.
She grabbed a chunky cardigan for the walk over and slid her feet into some boots with a sturdy enough heel to walk on.
In a nod to vanity—who knew who they’d run into—she went to the bathroom to check the state of her hair and freshen up her makeup. When she stepped into the living room, she could see Ty was just about ready to go himself.
When he glanced over at her, something passed through his expression, something she couldn’t read, which was weird and confusing. She could always read Ty.
“What are you doing?” he asked her a little gruffly.
“I’m coming with.” She glanced into the kitchen to make sure Grandma wasn’t around. “No, hitting the saloon is not my favorite thing to do, but Grandma worries about me being too much of a homebody, so this serves me too. She’ll lay off for a few weeks.”
She crossed to him, looking up at him, daring him to argue with that.
He tapped his knuckle to her chin. His eyes were a little sad. “You don’t fool me, Townsend.” An old physical gesture, on old saying.
So why did it feel so damn different?
They decided to walk despite the cold—which was good, because she’d put a sweater over that distracting t-shirt. Not skin-tight, but damn close enough, and then worse, enough of a V-neck to show off cleavage.
It would have been fine, he told himself, if she hadn’t been wearing a gold pendant that nestled all too comfortably right…there.
He shook his head and sucked in a breath of cold air. All in all, he was glad she was coming. It gave him an excuse not to crash at Keane’s, and if Keane was planning on getting drunk, as he likely was, Ty just…hated being around it.
Maybe that made him a bad friend. At least he wasn’t thinking about Keane’s choice of clothes and what they did to his body. That wasn’t exactly the hallmark of a good friend either, was it?
He opened the heavy door of the Seaglass Saloon for Lara, then followed her inside. He immediately found Keane, because Keane had a regular table he liked to commandeer. The man in question waved them over.
Ty hadn’t texted ahead of time that Lara was coming, but it was clearly no surprise as Keane had already ordered drinks and there were three stools at the table.
Keane was one of his few friends who’d never given him a hard time about having a female for a best friend.
He’d always easily included Lara like she was one of the guys.
They all exchanged greetings, took their seats.
Ty wasn’t surprised that the drinks on the table were all tailored for each of them—a non-alcoholic beer for Ty, something colorful and fruity and probably more juice than liquor for Lara, and something straight and strong for Keane himself.
Not his first, if the empty next to it was anything to go by.
“So, you back for good this time, Wagner?”
“I think so.”
“I heard the high school is looking for a—”
“I’m working at the museum,” he interrupted, unable to stop the flatness in his voice. If one more damn person told him about the coaching opening, he was going to snap.
Ty didn’t miss the look that passed between Keane and Lara. Just like he hadn’t missed a very similar look pass between Lara and Mary Lou over dinner. Everyone thought they knew what was best for him.
He wished he could agree with them. It would make his life a lot easier.
Instead, he changed the subject, asked about Keane’s ranch, about guys they’d graduated with.
The conversation was easy, and Ty didn’t even start getting tense until Keane ordered his fourth drink while him and Lara were still nursing their first.
A redhead who looked vaguely familiar approached their table. She wrapped her arms around Keane from behind. “Heya, handsome.” She flashed Ty a smile. “Who’s your friend?”
“Jessica, you remember Ty Wagner. And you know Lara.”
The woman didn’t spare Lara a glance. Instead, she squeezed Keane. “Dance with me, huh?”
“Sure thing,” Keane said, sliding off his stool.
“I got a friend if you’re interested,” Jessica said to Ty.
“Uh, nah. I’m…good.”
Then she was dragging Keane off to the tiny dancefloor, more full of drunk swaying than any actual dancing.
“You can go dance,” Lara told him once Jessica was out of earshot. “I don’t mind sitting here alone people watching.”
He knew she meant it. Lara had never had any trouble being alone. She might have even preferred it. Still, it just felt…weird and wrong and he didn’t want to mine into why. “I’m a shitty dancer.”
“I mean, yes, that is an undeniable fact” she said with an amused smile. “But that is hardly dancing.” She pointed to where Keane was swaying with the redhead. “That is just pressing up against each other.”
Which for reasons he did not wish to uncover put the image of her falling on top of him at the museum that first day back in his mind. He shifted in his seat, stared at the last few sips of shitty non-alcoholic beer. “I’m good.”
When Keane got back to the table, ordered his fifth drink, Lara stood. “I’m sorry, Keane. That’s about all the saloon I’ve got in me. Do you mind if Ty walks me home? He can come back and spend some more time with you if you guys want, I’m sure.”
But they both knew—maybe they all knew—he wouldn’t.
“That’s okay,” Keane said, a little bleary eyed. He gestured toward where the redhead was laughing with her friend. “I think Jessica’s got another dance in her. You two boring old people go to bed.”
Ty tried to smile, tried to keep it light, but… “I can give you a ride back to…”
Keane shook his head. “No worries. I’m not driving back tonight.”
Well, it was something. He followed Lara through the crowd and then out into the street. The tourist season was starting to taper off, so while there were a few people walking around, it was almost quiet—especially the closer they got to the Townsend’s house.
They walked in quiet. Probably lost in their own stuff. His mostly centering around Keane, and inevitably his dad. No doubt Dad had heard he was back by now. If Ty didn’t go see him in the next few days, Bruce would show up somewhere and cause a scene.
Just the idea of going to that trailer, dealing with the inevitable shouting match, made him sick to his stomach. Without baseball they were nothing to each other, and maybe Ty was ready for that eventuality, but it didn’t make it easy.
They reached the sidewalk that would lead them up to the house, but Lara paused.
“You go on up. I’m going to walk for a little bit.” She let go of his arm, but he stopped her before she could start down to the beach. Aside from the streetlights, it was pitch black out there.
“Hey, it’s too late to go walking by yourself.”
“I do it all the time.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better.” He took her arm back. “I’m coming with.”
She sighed with some frustration, but she didn’t argue with him, so they walked down to the beach, arm in arm. It was dark, but the moon was high and bright. He let her lead the way in the direction of the museum instead of the cottage.
He knew where she was going before they even got there.
She took a seat on her favorite rock. He leaned against it.
They both looked out at the ocean. Moonlight wavered over the surface of the water.
The cold air whipped around them, but it felt good after the overheated beer-scented air in the saloon.
It should have been an easy enough night. It shouldn’t settle in him like a million regrets, and a bunch of old swirling, negative feelings. Still, he just felt…shitty.
And he got the impression Lara wasn’t feeling much better though he couldn’t understand why.
After a lot of silent moments, she leaned her head against his shoulder.
It was as familiar as tracking down a fly ball.
Taking the first pitch. The foundation of his life was baseball and Lara Townsend leaning on him.
At least one of those things still had the ability to make him feel something positive.
“Are you happy, Ty?” she asked him, her voice almost indistinguishable over the sound of waves slapping against the beach.
She asked it with a gravity he couldn’t ignore. Or lie to. “No, not really. Are you?”
She sighed. “Sometimes I think I am, but this feeling always creeps back in. It’s probably just the winter sads.”
He didn’t point out it wasn’t winter yet.