Chapter 39
[Neve]
He loves me?
He couldn’t mean it. He’d lied to me.
But had he really?
As Lumi said, Tate was never the buyer of the property. He was a middleman. An agent. And while I could be upset about who he represented, the real issue was with who he represented. They made the deal that confused me.
Then again, whose fault was the confusion?
I should have asked more questions. But the answer would have remained the same. We had to sell Rusty’s Wrecks, because it was time. Somewhere deep inside me, a white flag was waved. Surrender was necessary.
Maybe Tate was the sign. Or Wren. Or just life happens. Seasons change.
I’ll be forty in a matter of days, and a new era begins.
I’ve been told I won’t give a fuck, but I haven’t given a fuck most of my life.
Maybe it’s time I did.
He loves me.
How did he know? I was ornery and difficult.
I was bullheaded and mean. I was never someone others stayed for.
I purposely picked people who would leave so they had an excuse I could accept.
Because time dictated their actions, not me.
I didn’t have to learn I was unlovable because love couldn’t happen in a matter of days.
Nope. It happened in a matter of hours.
Because, as Tate said, from the moment we met, he frightened me. When I dropped him off at Fisk’s house, thinking I’d never see him again, an unfamiliar ache had churned in my gut, like I wanted to see him again. I would miss him when he was gone.
And I did. For nine months, I had a constant reminder that he was gone but would always have a permanent place in my life.
Family. Accept him, forgive him, or not, Wren and Tate and I were forever woven together.
He was back from New York. He was here to stay. I didn’t even know what that meant. I didn’t ask.
I’m still too wrapped up in my anger and his declaration of love conflicting with each other like darts that don’t stick to the board.
Dammit, Tate.
I snuggle Wren closer to me, hating how much it hurt to watch him walk out the door.
His car keys are still in my hand. My car keys, apparently, because he did take care of me.
He worried about the safety of Wren and me.
He’d explained all the features and the add-ons for protection, and my car-loving heart soaked it all in without realizing he was explaining these things for me.
My mind flips through all the other ways he took care of me. How he held my hand through childbirth, and he’s been by my side every step afterward. How he took care of Wren, with the sweetest baby room and meeting her every need.
She was never going to want for anything with him as her dad.
Just like I never wanted for anything with mine, even if he made a mistake near the end.
A big mistake.
One that cost us his business. Cost me that business. That was never Tate’s fault. I just wanted to blame someone other than Dad. I couldn’t point the finger at him because he was Dad.
The one man I always relied on to be there for me.
And now Tate wanted that position.
Something told me he’d do a good job of taking care of me.
Because he loves me.
Five days later, I still haven’t spoken directly to Tate.
While he texted me about seeing Wren, I agreed, but gave them space, mainly by dropping her off at his place.
The exterior of Tate and me was banged up, but I couldn’t let Wren suffer the consequences.
She needed what Tate would offer her. A loving father.
The father-daughter relationship I had was one of the most important ones in my life. I wanted Wren to have the same thing.
I wanted that for Tate as well. As much as I was still angry with him, he’d always wanted to be a father, and I believed he had staying power for his daughter.
In the meantime, I reeled with everything.
I needed to find a job. I needed to find a bigger place to live. But most of all, I missed Tate, but I didn’t know what to say to him, where to start to repair what had been demolished.
As the days passed and the silence grew, I worried we’d be too late to salvage us.
Just like I couldn’t save Rusty’s Wrecks.
When Wren reached her one-month birthday, Tate and I should have been together to celebrate her.
Instead, I received a packet in the mail that made my palms sweat.
The thick envelope addressed to me is from a law firm. A sickening sensation momentarily hits my gut. Tate is going to demand custody.
I don’t want to believe it, but I can’t refuse to believe it until I read the papers inside. With shaky fingers, I pull a thick packet from the envelope.
My heart still races, my mind galloping to extremes.
Tate doesn’t want to share parenthood, like a true couple, he wants to be—
Partners in business.
I blink and reread the first few lines of the document, which explains that Tate Love wants to enter into a partnership with me, Neve Snowe, in joint ownership of Firehouse Station, an auto repair shop, located in Lovewell Landing.
“What the apple picker?” I mutter aloud as my hands continue to tremble. Even Wren kicks in her bouncy seat. She looks a little too small for the thing, and she doesn’t quite understand the apparatus, but she’s been staring at the black and white toys on the bar over the seat.
I reread the first page again, then reach into the envelope one more time for a set of keys.
“Wren,” I whisper to her. “What did your daddy do now?”
Within minutes, I’m rushing to dress her for the colder weather that has set in.
The day is bright and sunny, but cool as late October can be.
Driving along the coast toward Lovewell Landing’s town center, the trees have all peaked in their color changes, many still hanging onto their new shades even as they dull to burnt orange and faded yellow.
When we reach the old firehouse, I park in front of it and lug Wren’s car seat out of the base. Keys in hand, my fingers tremble as I set them in the lock, still nervous that I have read things incorrectly. But the key fits, and the lock clicks, and the door opens.
Like Tate said. The door would always be open.
A musty smell, mingled with stale gasoline, wafts up my nose, and my heart swells.
The two-bay garage is huge, and the space is perfect for a car lift.
I set the car seat down and take Wren out of it, carrying her up the stairs to the second floor.
An ancient kitchen stands at one end of the room.
The other half of the space includes a shower room and former sleeping quarters, complete with a pole to the first floor. Fun, but not conducive for Wren.
“What do you think, baby girl?” I whisper to her, jiggling her in my arms as I hold her outward so she can see the space.
“What do you think?”
I spin and almost scream. But something inside me says, I know that voice. He haunts my dreams and fills my heart.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, breathless but strangely relieved to see him.
“Would you believe I was in the neighborhood?” He shrugs and then holds up a to-go cup from Fresh Swill. “If I’d known you were going to be here, I would have brought you something pumpkin-y.”
He glances sheepishly at the floor, and I softly smile.
“What did you do?” I finally ask.
He looks around the empty room. “Someone once told me I stole properties. And I did, a little bit. I stole the heart of a business.” He slowly steps toward me. “Or maybe a certain business owner stole mine.”
He pauses a foot away from me, dropping his gaze to Wren.
“For once, I want to build something from the ground up. Then watch it flourish.” He looks around the room again, his mouth slowly curling.
“But you have a partnership with Hessfield Holdings.”
His attention snaps back to me. “Says who?” His brows crease.
“Fisk said . . .” My voice drifts. Fisk didn’t say. He said congratulations to Tate and me. Tate told him about this partnership.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He chuckles, then swipes his hand through his hair. “Well, grand gesture fail.”
I tilt my head.
“I wanted to surprise you after I got back from New York. I quit the firm.”
“What? Why?” I didn’t want him to do that.
“Because it was time.” He glances at the coffee cup in his hand. “I haven’t been happy in a while, but being here, in Lovewell Landing, with you, makes me happy.” He glances up at me. “I want to be partners with you, Neve. You have talent and skill, and I have the business backing to help you.”
“You’re going to change tires?” I scoff.
“If I have to, but this place is all yours. I’m only on the partnership because I bought the building. And if you don’t want to make an auto-repair shop in it, then I’ll flip this place into something else.”
He pauses, staring at me. “This won’t be a multimillion-dollar deal. This is a contract of the heart, Neve. A commitment to us.”
I roll my lips, fighting a smile.
“Did you see the desk?” He lifts his coffee cup to wave at something behind me.
I’d noticed the desk when I first walked up here, but I did a casual perusal of the space, not wanting to get ahead of myself with floor plans and future dreams yet.
I step closer to the desk, taking a good look at the worn metal. A dent in one side. A drawer with a little bit of rust. RUSTY carved into a corner of the surface.
My head whips up, my throat thick when I say, “You have my dad’s desk.”
He shrugs. “Thought you might like it in your new office.”
“Tate Love,” I choke. “I love you so much.” The words just swirl out of me, but I mean them, and I don’t want to take them back.
He steps closer to me with Wren in my arms, and he sets his hand on her back.
“Tell me I’m forgiven, Neve. Tell me you want to make this work. Us work.”
I nod. “I do. I really do.”
With his hand still on Wren’s head, he leans in and presses his forehead to mine. “I’ve missed you so much, Neve.”
“I’ve missed you, too,” I admit, and missing someone was almost worse than a goodbye. It was a longing that didn’t disappear. A yearning for my other half to make me whole.
“Should we talk about the shop?”
“Shop talk?” I tease. “A man after my heart.”
“I want it,” he says, looking me right in the eye.
“You have it, Tate. All of it.”
His mouth crashes mine, and I giggle at how quickly he comes in. Wren lets out a squeal, and Tate pulls back, smiling at our little girl.
Our permanent partnership.
Our family.