8. Tanner
TANNER
“Iswear to God, if you sigh one more time I’m going to call Otto, tell him you’re sad, and then I’ll take the rest of the day off and you’ll have to deal with him.” Glaring, Sorren adds, “By yourself.”
I gawk in horror at the idea.
“You wouldn’t,” I say, knowing he would absolutely do that and it would be miserable because I’m trying to be respectful of Deacon’s time with Jude and Arden and the baby.
Maybe a little too respectful, my nerves getting the best of me as one week has turned into two since our conversation at the bar. In my defense, work has been nonstop and we’re way past the part where it might be a good idea to hire someone else.
We’re drowning.
“Try me,” he deadpans and I don’t know why I’m doubting him. Sorren Mackay is almost always serious, and he’d absolutely saddle me with Otto, my ex-wife’s husband.
He’s my penance and salvation in this life, like a guardian angel with zero boundaries hopped-up on ten energy drinks and good vibes.
He’s great, and aside from that one time he wanted to kick my ass when I first moved to Tennessee, it’s been pretty smooth sailing with all of us creating a blended family for Briggs.
“I saw Deacon a couple of weeks ago at the bar.”
“Bodhi said you sent him home that night.”
“Yeah, I just… I wanted to talk to Deacon alone, but when he got there I couldn’t make the words happen. And then he said he’s done chasing me and we’re just not on the same page or whatever.”
“I do love a good book analogy.”
“There’s something seriously wrong with you.”
“No argument here.”
“I told him it wasn’t over and that I wanted to give him time with his family, but now it feels like too much time has passed.”
“That sounds like an excuse.”
“I’m well aware.”
“Well, then I think you should talk to him—put a little effort in—if you really want to date him. As your friend, I definitely think it’s time you got out there. You should go after him.”
“I do want to date him, and I told him that. I want a chance, but it’s hard to even know where to start. Do you know how long it’s been since I actually dated someone? I honestly can’t even remember.”
The dates—the few there were—post divorce were all awkward and went nowhere, and the last person I was with was Fallon. I love my ex-wife; she’s my best friend, but we didn’t date.
We hooked up at a party, she found out she was pregnant, and we got married.
We were young and it was the only way I knew I could take care of her.
I showered her with love and affection but it was more you’re my favorite person rather than I want to rip your clothes off and do filthy things to you kind of love.
“And?” he says, because the man is annoyingly perceptive, especially when I don’t want him to be.
“And I’ve never…you know, and Deacon looks like he’s…uh—”
“Fucked some dudes?”
“It’s called tact,” I manage, my face absolutely on fire because yeah, fucked some dudes is what I was trying to say.
“And some of us don’t have time for tact.”
“Thanks.”
“He’s been in and out of here for months. Ever since Jude adopted his dog, Deacon comes and chats and you blush and he flirts, and every time, I have to watch you sulk when he leaves.”
“Way to kick a man when he’s down.”
“You want to go out with him?”
“Yes.”
“And you need a little help making that happen?” he asks, annoyance in his tone like he’s put out having to lead me from one breadcrumb to the next.
“I guess so, yeah.”
“Great.” He nods and without warning, picks up the rolling chair behind me and throws it against the wall. The impact makes a dent, the sheetrock breaking under the force.
“What the fuck?”
Holding up his index finger, he pulls out his phone and taps before putting it up to his ear.
“Deacon, it’s Sorren Mackay.” He pauses.
“I’m good. Listen, we had a bit of a situation at the office and I don’t have time to take care of it.
” This time my training fails me completely as I stand there with my jaw practically on the floor.
“Gotta hole in the sheetrock. Yeah, come by when you’re free and take a look. ”
“You’re out of your mind,” I hiss but he ignores me.
“Invoice me whatever it costs. Uh-huh, thanks.”
He disconnects and replaces the phone in his pocket. “What the hell was that?” I practically screech because Sorren is levelheaded. He’s not really the throw a chair into the wall to help your buddy get a date kind of guy.
“I think the words you’re looking for are thank you.”
“What?! No. You damaged the lobby of our very reputable business and—”
“And the guy you’re drooling over is a professional contractor and will be here sometime today to assess the damage. So, if I was you, I’d figure out what I was going to say to him so that your friend and business partner doesn’t have to cause any more property damage in here.”
“I can’t believe you did that.”
“If you can’t believe that, you’re definitely not going to believe that I’m taking the rest of the day off.”
“I swear to—”
“You can swear all you want, but you’ll be thanking me later.”
Knocking twice on the desk, he saunters out the front door, leaving me to deal with his mess—technically my mess.
And now I’m going to need to figure out what I’m going to say before Deacon arrives. Because I’ll be damned if I have to listen to Sorren tell me how he did me a very dramatic favor and I blew it.
And really, if anyone is blowing, it better be the good kind.
Fuck.