Read Blindsided Online

Authors: Jami Davenport

Tags: #Sports Romance, Football Romance, Athelete, Marriage of Convenience

Blindsided (23 page)

“They want to see your passion for the game, Wolfe. Sure, you have a rep of being the first in, last out every night. No one analyzes film like you do, but they need to see those intangibles which make a good quarterback a great one. All the talent in the world won’t get you far in this league because everyone else is just as talented. You have the work ethic. You have the raw talent. Now you need that fire. You need to want the win more than you want to breathe. Do I make myself clear?”

Tanner nodded. He did want those wins, but he forced himself to remain stoic when things went bad.

“Good. Now get back to work. Next time that jerk nails you, knock him on his ass. Show him you can’t be pushed around, and you mean business.”

Tanner blinked a few times, not sure he’d heard Coach Meyer correctly, but the coach was already walking away.

Next time one of the guys gave him shit, Tanner wouldn’t hold back.

His teammates would be shocked as hell when he let the real Tanner out of his self-imposed prison.

* * * *

 

Emma opened the door to a tall, thin man holding a worn suitcase. He frowned at her, and she wondered if he’d come to the wrong house. Yet, he looked vaguely familiar.

She smelled a faint whiff of something like whiskey. Despite it only being noon, the man appeared to be somewhat drunk.

He leered at her and blinked his bloodshot eyes as if doing so might clear his vision so he could see her better. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“I don’t know who you are,” she stuttered, wishing for the first time their house wasn’t so isolated, or she’d learned self-defense moves from Bella.

“That little shit didn’t tell you about me?” She could only guess the
little shit
he referred to was six-foot-four Tanner. Little, he was not. The shit part was debatable.

“I, uh, no, I’m sorry.”

He pushed past her, not minding when the suitcase rapped her in the shins. Emma hesitated in the doorway, debating on whether or not to run to the barn and get help.

When she didn’t follow him into the house, the man stopped and tapped his foot impatiently. “Are you dumb, or what?”

Emma bristled a little at his attitude. “No, I am not. I’m not accustomed to strangers barging into my house without explanation.”

“We won’t be strangers for long, honey,” he said with a yellow-toothed grin, but at least he had all of his teeth.

Emma shivered and shrank back toward the porch.

He laughed. “I’m not going to hurt you. I can see why he picked you. You’re a timid, complacent thing, aren’t you?”

Emma’s temper flared. “No, I am not.”

“You still don’t get it, do you? Obviously my fuckhead son didn’t tell you I was coming.”

Emma’s mouth dropped open, and she struggled for words. “Um, uh, no, he didn’t.”

“Where should I put my things?”

In a daze, Emma showed the man to the guest room. She tried to contact Tanner, but he’d be on the practice field and wouldn’t be reachable for hours. She’d have to make the best of this. Maybe Isaac would come over and run interference for her.

Then again, Isaac hated his father, so not a good idea.

A few short minutes later, Mr. Wolfe descended the stairs. “I’m hungry,” he said bluntly.

“I could make you a sandwich and bowl of soup.”

“Fine.”

He followed her to the kitchen and sat down on a counter stool, watching her so closely, Emma felt little bugs crawling up her spine.

“I don’t get it,” Mr. Wolfe finally said.

Emma forced herself to remain polite. “Excuse me?”

“You. You’re nothing like the starlets and celebrities he prefers. Bet you thought you struck gold when he proposed this ridiculous sham of a marriage to you.”

Emma held her anger in check, even as she felt the sting at being reminded her marriage hadn’t been from love but convenience, and it appeared Tanner shared that fact with his father.

“But then, I know my boy. I’m sure he’s doing exactly what he’s always done and to hell with anyone else.”

Emma declined to comment and placed the plate in front of the man. He dug in as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks. She turned away from him and his disgusting manners. When he finished, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

“Got any whiskey?”

“I think so.”

“Good, pour me a strong one, and make it quick.”

Mr. Wolfe strode out to the deck and lit a cigarette. Emma filled a glass with ice and poured some whiskey. She carried it out to him.

He stared at the drink for a long time, not taking it from her outstretched hand. “What’s with this pussy drink? I need a man’s drink. Not a thimble-sized shot.”

“I’m sorry.” Emma retreated to the house and filled a tumbler, returning to him.

“That’s better. I thought Tanner would’ve had you trained better than that. My sons can hold their liquor. I taught them how at a young age.” He grinned as if proud of his admission.

Emma was appalled. “You taught your sons to drink?”

He laughed a very cruel laugh. “Sure did. Made them drink until they threw up. Pretty soon they learned to hold it.”

Emma couldn’t conceal her disgust, and he read her like a novel.

“Don’t judge me, little girl. Not when you don’t have a clue.”

She didn’t judge him, she abhorred him. No wonder Tanner didn’t talk about his father, but the least he could’ve done was warn her.

“You’re a lot like my Karen. Sweet and pliable most of the time but annoyingly self-righteous about certain things.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Tanner married his mother. Makes total sense. Just know your place, or you might become expendable. She did.”

Emma fought back a wave of nausea at the man’s smug smile.

 

* * * *

 

Tanner stopped at the grocery store on the way home and picked up a pizza and some flowers for Emma. He parked in the garage and entered the house, pausing in mid-stride when he heard a man’s voice. He frowned, wondering what man would be in his house when he wasn’t home. Jealousy rushed through him like a flash flood in a rainstorm.

In the next beat, dread replaced jealousy as he recognized the voice from his nightmares.

What the hell was he doing here? Tanner specifically asked him to call. Besides, the game wasn’t for another few days. His father never came just to visit. He always had an ulterior motive.

Dropping his duffle in the hall, Tanner hurried toward the voices, finding Emma and his father on the deck. Dad was drinking whiskey and Emma sipped on a glass of wine. She sat on the edge of the chair, stiffness and tension radiating off her in waves of discomfort.

Crap. Crap. Crap
.

Tanner forced a smile appropriate for welcoming a beloved family member instead of the man he despised ninety-nine percent of the time. “Dad, what a pleasant surprise.” Tanner shook his father’s hand and grinned at Emma who glared at him. Oh, shit, he was in the doghouse. Tanner ignored the homicidal gleam in her eyes. He bent down to kiss her. She turned her head so his lips grazed her cheek.

“These are for you, beautiful,” he said as he held out the flowers. They didn’t thaw her icy expression. She ignored him, leaving him to scramble to save face in front of his father, who raised one eyebrow that said it all—pussy-whipped.

To hell with saving face, Tanner marched into the kitchen, put the flowers in a vase, placed them on the patio table, ignoring dear old dad’s disgust. Doing so gave him a measure of satisfaction until he glanced at Emma and was thankful they didn’t have a loaded gun in the house.

“You neglected to tell your
wife
I was coming,” his father accused, saying the word wife as if it were as distasteful as whore or slut.

“I told you it wasn’t a good time,” Tanner defended himself, casting an apologetic look in Emma’s direction. She lifted her chin and looked right over his head. He was really in deep shit. He’d never seen her this mad. Sweet, compliant Emma had her own hidden temper. He would’ve grinned if it wouldn’t have been for the current sticky situation.

His dad downed the rest of his whiskey in one long gulp. “I have some places I need to go. I’ve been waiting for you to take me.”

Tanner glanced at Emma. She stood stiffly. “I’m going to put these in water. Nice to meet you, Mr. Wolfe. I’m sure Tanner will show you a good time.”

“Emma, why don’t you go with us?”

Before Emma could respond, his dad interrupted, “This is men’s business. We don’t need a woman around.”

“I’d rather stay here with Emma. You can take my truck.”

“No, Tanner, I’m sure you two have some catching up to do. I’m meeting Avery for dinner and karaoke. See you later.” She gave him one of those looks, and he read it perfectly. She wanted to get away from his father. Well, that made two of them.

But here he was. Stuck.

Damn it.

“Shit,” Tanner swore under his breath. The last thing he wanted to do was entertain his father all night. Reluctantly, he followed the man to his truck.

An hour later, Tanner sat in a sleazy bar on Aurora Avenue in Seattle by himself. He nursed his now warm beer and drummed his fingers on the table. His dad had borrowed some money and taken off in search of cigarettes, leaving his second empty tumbler of whiskey on the table. Tanner glanced at his watch. The old man had been gone for a half hour. With a heavy sigh, he threw a twenty down and went in search of the old man, fearing the worst.

Standing in the parking lot, Tanner surveyed the area. His laser-sharp gaze zeroed in on the one thing he’d missed when they pulled into the parking lot.

A fucking strip club down the street.

Tanner was all kinds of an idiot. Every time his father came to town, he insisted on father-son bonding at a strip club. Tanner hadn’t cared much for it when he’d been single, and he really despised it now. Pulling his baseball cap down over his eyes, he pushed open the double doors and entered. He paused to scan the room until he spotted the old man. His father sat at a table abutting the raised dance floor, as strippers paraded back and forth in front of him. Tanner slipped into the empty chair next to him.

“What took you so long?” John asked.

“This wasn’t part of the plan.” Tanner frowned and shot his father his meanest glare. Of course, the man was one-hundred-percent immune.

“You’re whipped.”

“So what if I am,” Tanner growled, all kinds of cranky.

“Sit back and relax.” John signaled for a round.

Tanner sipped on his beer and brooded, hoping like hell no one recognized him. That’d go over really well with his coaches and Reynolds, not to mention Emma. He debated his options. His father was a mean drunk, and he’d raise hell if Tanner tried to get him to leave before he was ready. Just what Tanner needed while trying to improve his reputation and play the part of a family guy.

The women played to their table, thanks to the cash his father had guilted Tanner into withdrawing from the bank. Tanner ignored the dancers, turning his back to them. None of them had breasts or an ass like Emma, and they didn’t do a thing for him. In fact, his dick shriveled in their presence.

But his dad, shit, the old man practically drooled all over himself.

Tanner should call his brother and insist he join them. Misery likes company, and Isaac would be a believable witness as to Tanner’s good behavior.

Hmmmm. In fact…

He needed help getting his dad out of there. Who better than his big brother who would understand Tanner’s predicament?

Tanner texted Isaac.
I need your help. ASAP. Come alone. I’m at
… Tanner texted the address, almost enjoying himself as he imagined how pissed Ice would be when he found out he’d been fooled into spending
quality
time with Tanner and their beloved father. If Tanner survived the evening, he’d laugh about this until his dying day. Why the fuck should he be the only one to suffer through their father’s obnoxious presence? Why not spread the wealth?

But even Tanner admitted he’d need help getting the drunk ass out of the bar later, and he definitely needed that witness.

Next, he texted Emma.
I’m sorry, I didn’t know when he was coming.

But you knew he was coming?

She had him there.
Yes, sorry.

Don’t worry about it. I’m out with the girls at karaoke. Don’t wait up for me.

Tanner scowled at his phone and debated taking his frustration out on an inanimate object. Emma had gone out without him, singing her sultry, sweet songs to a room full of men no better than the ones hanging out in this place. No better than his father. The thought made him want to retch.

What girls?
He texted and hoped like hell she wasn’t with Bellani. Bella made it clear she didn’t approve of them, and Tanner didn’t need the drama Bella attracted and fed upon.

My sisters.

All of them?

Yes, is there a problem?

No.
Izzy and Avery were with her. Things would be fine.

Tanner breathed a deep sigh of relief and sat back, waiting for big brother to ride in on his white horse and save the day.

Just like Tanner once believed he would.

Chapter 17—Losing and Winning

The last thing Isaac expected had been a text from Tanner asking for his help. He sensed a trap, but he did it anyway, letting Avery know the scoop before he left. She completely supported his efforts to reconcile with his brothers.

Ever since his sister Jenny’s death almost four years ago, Isaac pretended he didn’t care about family, but he did care. After meeting Avery and forgiving himself, Isaac hoped he’d one day resolve his differences with Tanner and Zeke. He’d taken it slow, chipping away at Tanner’s Kevlar armor starting with being one of the few supporters of Tanner’s marriage to Emma. She was the best thing to ever happen to Tanner just like Avery was to him. A marriage to Emma forced the two brothers to socialize.

Jenny had been the glue that’d held them together through all the dysfunction, their mother’s suspicious death, and their father’s continual emotional and physical abuse.

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