Unbreak My Heart (7 page)

He answered with a gruff, “Hello.”

“Hey Dad.”

“I started to think you wouldn’t call me back. It’s been a few weeks.”

You don’t get to lay a guilt trip on me, old man.
“Life is busy and all that. What’s up?”

“Chet told me you were in Wyoming.”

“I spent two weeks working at the clinic in Sundance. Now I’m in Phoenix.”

“Chet was pretty vague about your plans. So was Remy when I asked him.” He paused. “My brothers have always looked out for you.”

They wouldn’t have had to if you would’ve stepped up and done your parental duty.

“That’s always surprised me,” he continued. “Growing up, they had their own little world. I never fit in. And our folks were…”

Goddamned apathetic. My grandparents had the same level of interest in me as their son had—near zero.

“Whatever. Did you really call me to talk about my uncles?”

“No. But I want to talk to you about some stuff.” He coughed.

“Are you sick?” I said sharply.

“Nah. Always been a point of pride I became a workaholic, not an alcoholic. Then one day I woke up and realized that too much work has the same effect as too much booze. I’d lived twenty-eight years of my life in an absolute fog.”

An uneasy feeling took root. “Did Chet and Remy put you up to this?”

“Nope. Look, this ain’t a conversation to have over the phone.”

He swallowed so loudly I heard it and my stomach pitched.

“If you’ve got any…patience with or forgiveness in your heart for your fucked-up old man, I’d like to meet with you.”

Say no. Tell him it’s too little, too late.

But it wasn’t. I wasn’t that lonely, sad boy whose Daddy missed his every major life event. Now I understood things weren’t always what they seemed. And hard choices were called that for a reason. Also, I’d built a damn good bullshit meter. If his explanations sounded like excuses offered out of delayed guilt, I’d know it.

“Boone?”

“Yeah, I’m here. Just thinking.” I exhaled. “Where and when do you want to meet?”

“I’ve gotta drop a load in Flagstaff sometime in the next month or so. Could you meet me there? If not, I can drive into Phoenix.”

“Flagstaff will be fine.”

“Thank you.”

Silence.

As I started to remind him that if his plans changed and he had to back out—which happened more often than not—he returned to the line, his tone gruffer than before.

“I ain’t gonna cancel on you, Boone. Not this time. You’ve got no reason to trust in my promises after all the times I broke them, but I have changed. I’d like you to give me a chance to prove it.”

That defensive shield I’d honed popped up automatically. I said, “We’ll see,” without conscious thought.

“Looking forward to seeing you. It’s been too long. Take care.”

I punched the end button and checked the timer on the screen. The conversation, at three minutes and eighteen seconds, was the longest I’d ever had with my dad on the phone. Even when I’d lived at home, he called to pass on the most basic information and hung up. I hadn’t seen him since my graduation from basic training. I’d invited him more out of obligation than anything and I hadn’t expected him to show up. But he’d been there in the bleachers alongside my uncles Chet and Remy.

My mom’s claim of being too broke to come was probably the truth, but even if she’d just won the lottery she would’ve skipped it. Since she and my dad hadn’t married, the three of us had never been a family unit. She’d ended up pregnant two more times, so I had a half-brother and half-sister. Their dad had lit out as soon as he discovered that my mom couldn’t take the kind of beatings she dished out to her kids.

Sometimes I forgot what a shitty childhood I’d had.

You haven’t forgotten; you’ve just buried it. Addiction, abuse, neglect has no part in your life now.

How much stuff would this conversation with my dad dredge up? When he didn’t have a fucking clue about some of the crap I’d gone through because he hadn’t cared enough to be around?

“Boone?”

My gaze snapped up from my shoes. At some point I’d sat on the bench and Sierra stood right beside me. I’d gotten lost, which was why I rarely let myself revisit the past. “Hey. Sorry.”

“Is everything all right?”

During the year Sierra and I had been friends, I’d found myself telling her things no one had ever bothered to try and pry out of me. I hadn’t found that kind of acceptance again until I’d become friends with Raj. And I hadn’t looked for that kind of connection with another woman.

Is that why you’re so adamant about rekindling your relationship with her? To prove to her that you aren’t the same bitter boy, but knowing she’d understand your past helped mold you into the guy you are now?

A warm hand touched my cheek.

I blinked and tipped my head back to look at her.

“Boone. What’s going on?”

“Had a weird phone call.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

My gut tightened. That sweet concern sounded so much like my Sierra from years past.

But if I said yes…would she be a crutch? If I said no…would she pull back? And how was I supposed to decide anything when I had her tender touch on my face? When the softness in her gaze was for me?

“Don’t run when I say this.” I lifted my hand, trapping her hand against my face to keep it in place. “Looking at you…having you this close…makes it goddamn hard to breathe, let alone think straight.” Immediately after I admitted that, I slammed my eyes shut. I could not deal with her rejection right now.

I swear to god I heard her murmur, “I know what you mean.”

Then her sharp fingernails scratched my hairline. “I liked you better with long hair, West.”

I smiled at her attempt to lighten the mood. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, it’s a no-go in the military. A buzz cut, the same as everyone else’s, makes it impossible to wear the label of brooding bad boy when the hipsters and the rednecks look exactly like you.”

She laughed.

I wanted more of that. I wanted more of this easy banter. I opened my eyes.

She tugged her hand away, but she didn’t retreat. “You still want to do this today?”

More than ever. “Wow me with your expertise, college girl.”

“Smartass. I’m a college
graduate
. Come on.”

Sierra drove a Mercedes.

“Why are you grinning like that?” she demanded.

“You drive the same kind of car you had in Wyoming.”

“Because even the new models have the highest safety ratings on the market.” She smirked. “With way more drive time, I upgraded to a kick-ass stereo.”

I climbed in and buckled up. “What’s first?”

“Showing you the areas your friend can’t afford.” She paused. “Scottsdale and Arcadia.”

“Where do you live?”

“Scottsdale.”

I bore white knuckles as Sierra wove in and out of traffic. The music on her kick-ass stereo didn’t provide enough distraction—I wouldn’t have pegged her as a Taylor Swift fan.

“You okay over there, West?”

“Trying not to think about whether my life insurance info is up to date.”

“Traffic is the one thing I hate about Phoenix.”

“Did you always know you’d come back here?”

She weighed her response. “Dad moving us to Sundance felt like punishment, even when he did it so we could both get to know his family together. That first year was rough on so many levels. Junior and senior years of high school I became more involved with everything. The McKays expected I’d attend UWYO because I’d taken classes there my senior year, but I picked ASU.”

“Why?”

“I felt like a third wheel with Dad and Rielle. That didn’t mean I wasn’t flipping cartwheels because they found each other. But between me and Rielle’s daughter Rory, they’d never lived alone together without kids. Plus, I knew if I hated Laramie I could drive home for the weekend. Going to ASU felt more like an adult decision.”

“Had your mom moved back from France? Was that part of it?”

“No. Her dipshit boy toy in Paris ditched her after he decided to settle down with a younger woman and have kids. She returned to Phoenix after my first year at ASU, a total mess. Her plan to feel young, hip and cool was to hang out with her college-aged daughter.”

I groaned. “Fun for you, huh?”

“Oh, it gets better. Then she decided hooking up with a college-aged guy would prove her hotness. So, as usual, she chose the easiest option and banged
my
boyfriend.”

“Fuck. Seriously?”

“Her behavior didn’t shock me as much as she’d hoped. I went, ‘Eh, you can have him.’ In a way she did me a favor. The guy was a total ‘S’up, bro?’ frat-boy douchebag with a small dick and smaller ambitions.”

I had no idea what the fuck to say to that. Did I laugh? She acted unaffected now, but it had to have pissed her off when it’d happened.

“Oh, so now you don’t have anything to say?”

I did laugh at that. “Parents suck. At least you have one good one. Both of mine are worthless. Just say the word, baby, and I’ll track down that cheating, frat-boy douchebag and beat his tiny-dick ass.”

“Four years after it happened?”

“He won’t suspect you waited that long to get revenge.” And I’d love to pound the shit out of a guy who’d had Sierra in his bed and hadn’t cared enough to keep her there.

Sierra laughed. “The army would approve of that response?”

“It’s not like I’d wear my uniform. I’d be in total stealth mode.”

“I’ll take it under consideration, tough guy.”

During her thorough tour of the city, I listened to her spiel without much comment because I liked the sound of her voice and I appreciated seeing the area through her eyes. She clearly loved living here more than she ever had in Wyoming.

After two and a half hours my stomach rumbled. “Can we stop for lunch? It can even be fast food. I just have to eat something.” I pointed to a Cheesecake Factory. “How about there?”

“That’s not fast food.”

“It’s close though.”

“Fine.” She pulled into a parking garage.

Feeling antsy, I climbed out of the car first and waited for her at the bottom of the steps. She’d slipped her sunglasses back on, but I felt her eyes on me. In a total junior high move, I dropped my arms behind me and stretched. That move flexed my biceps, pecs and abdomen. I knew she’d look.

And she did. She took such a complete look that she nearly missed the bottom step.

I caught her with one hand on her hip and the other on her shoulder. “Careful.”

Sierra peered at me over the tops of her sunglasses. “Next time you want to remind me you’re still rockin’ a killer body, wait until I’m on level ground, ’kay?”

She brushed past me so fast she didn’t see my big-assed grin.

We’d been seated maybe a minute when Sierra said, “Excuse me, I’ll be right back.”

I started flipping through the hundred-page menu. The text was swimming by the time I reached page five. I closed my eyes and blanked my mind. But when I looked again, I had the same problem. I shut the menu and set it on the edge of the table.

Sierra slid back into the booth.

When the waitress returned, I ordered a hamburger. She looked at Sierra. “And for you?”

“The Almond Joy cheesecake and a can of Red Bull.”

After the waitress left, I said, “Just cheesecake?”

“Since it’s my entire daily caloric intake…yes, just cheesecake. I’ll suffer through salad for dinner.” Sierra set a file folder on the table. “My assistant scrounged up a few options for rentals from one of our clients that owns both commercial and residential properties. You want to go through these?”

“Not really.”

“Then what is the purpose of this lunch?”

“Besides to share a meal together you didn’t have to cook for me?” I shrugged. “I wanted to sit across from you to give my neck a break from twisting around so I can see your face. Only getting a side glimpse of your glare doesn’t have the same power as full-frontal.”

“You want me to glare at you?”

“You
will
glare at me when I suggest we clear the air and say the shit that’s been on both of our minds the last seven years. Then we could hug it out.”

She smacked my forearm. “No and no. Keep it focused on
business
between us, Boone.”

Dirty business
popped into my head.

Sierra must’ve read that on my face because she smacked my other forearm. “I can leave you here if you don’t behave.”

Was I making any progress with her? I hated to fall back, but I didn’t want to put
her
in full retreat. “So…business. You never mentioned you wanted to go into the family business.”

“That’s because it wasn’t on my radar as a self-absorbed sixteen-year-old. But by age seventeen I realized I needed a life plan so I made one.” She talked about investing her inheritance in flipping houses and her luck in getting out before the real estate market crashed. She mentioned funding her buddy Marin’s home-based business. None of her triumphs were detailed in a bragging manner and she groaned about her failures.

I tried to listen without my goddamned mouth hanging open. So much for my assumption Sierra had skated through college with minimum effort. She’d even founded a college organization for women entrepreneurs. After graduating a year early, she’d started at the bottom at Daniels Property Management. Within two years she’d earned the title and responsibilities of a company vice president.

The woman was twenty-three years old.

“Say something,” she demanded.

“You make everyone look like a slacker, don’t you?”

She blushed. “I don’t know about that. For better or for worse, I wanted to be in charge of my own destiny.”

“Your dad had to be impressed with you taking the initiative.”

“Maybe that was a teeny part of why I did it.”

The food arrived.

After forking in a bite of cheesecake, she released a husky sigh.

I froze. Now there was a sexy sound.

“I’ve tried to recreate this twenty times at home and I cannot get the flavors right.”

“That good, huh?”

She sliced off another chunk, closed her eyes, parted her lips and paused with the fork halfway in, balanced on her tongue.