Blindsided (34 page)

He wasn’t. He was walking in hell.

He pursued a spot in the playoffs with ruthless determination, blocking all else from his mind until the evening came, and he lay alone on the couch yearning for Emma’s soft warm body, her musical laughter, and the sweet, yet wicked ways she turned him on.

Today they’d won an early game against Arizona and flown home to Seattle, arriving late evening. Tanner couldn’t stand going home alone, but the guys had plans, and Tanner found himself with nowhere to go but home, the last place he wanted to go.

Instead, he pulled into the parking lot of the local bar and sat in his car, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. Did he really want to drink his troubles away? He’d always been super careful about his drinking, knowing he came from a long line of alcoholics and substance abusers. Drowning his sorrows in alcohol and doing so alone might lead him down the same rocky path his brother had taken years before.

Isaac.
The one person who wouldn’t judge him or coddle him and would understand his pain. He’d be fucking crazy to call the man after all the shit between them.

Maybe he was fucking crazy—with loneliness. How else could he explain what he was pretty sure he was about to do?

Tanner picked up his phone and stared at it for a long, long time. He needed someone tonight, and not just any someone, but a person who’d understand him without explanation. That person had once been his sister, the very sister he’d blamed Isaac for killing four years ago.

Only Isaac hadn’t killed her. He hadn’t even been at the scene of the accident. He hadn’t forced his girlfriend behind the wheel when she was drunk, and he hadn’t forced Jenny to go with her. Sure, the fight had escalated the situation and precipitated their departure, but Isaac had paid his price in guilt and agony a million times over. Losing Jenny had devastated all three brothers and split them apart.

Tanner as the middle child could glue them back together.

By doing so, he could honor Jenny’s memory.

The realization hit Tanner like a bolt of lightning striking him from the sky. She’d been the glue that bound them all together as a family. Losing her left a gaping hole in Tanner’s heart and a pain that dulled at times, but never went away.

Isaac had to be feeling that same pain. Until Avery, Isaac had slogged through his pain alone. At least Tanner had his wingmen. Isaac hadn’t had anyone. A shock of guilt shot through Tanner, surprising him. He hadn’t been there for Isaac any more than Isaac had been there for him. He’d pointed fingers, accused Isaac of being a killer, not even considering the heavy load of grief and guilt his brother carried had to trump his a thousand times over.

Now Tanner was the one left alone, feeling like he had no family. Emma had become the biggest piece of his family, and he’d lost her.

Jenny had so wanted the brothers to be a family, and her death tore them apart instead of binding them together in mutual pain and grief. Tanner had dishonored her memory with his selfish inability to forgive.

Fuck.

Tanner picked up the phone and texted Isaac, not sure if his brother was even in town or on a road trip.

Meet me at Marv’s for a cold one?

Isaac answered immediately.
By cold one, if you mean a Pepsi, sure.

Tanner left the car and walked into the bar. He spent the next several minutes signing autographs as he weaved between tables to a dark corner of the room, relieved it was a sparse crowd. He settled into a booth, ordered a pizza, a beer, and a Pepsi, and waited. He didn’t wait long. Isaac strode in a few minutes later. Tanner grinned at the number of people who recognized Isaac and stopped him just as they had Tanner earlier. Just went to show how popular hockey had become in Seattle.

Finally Isaac slid into the booth seat across from him. “Hey.”

“Hey, bro,” Tanner responded, drawing a raised eyebrow from Isaac. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d called Isaac “bro” and obviously, neither could Isaac.

Isaac smiled as he picked up the Pepsi already waiting for him on the table. “Thanks.” He saluted Tanner with the glass and took a long drink.

Tanner shrugged, having second thoughts and wondering what spontaneous act of God had caused him to contact Isaac in the first place. Or maybe it was an angel named Jenny.

Regardless, he’d walked to the edge of the cliff. He might as well dive off.

“You know,” Tanner began, suddenly choked up to the point where every word spoken was a supreme chore. “I miss her.”

Isaac narrowed his eyes and studied his brother. “Emma?”

“I do miss her.” Tanner swallowed, entering the point of no return, “but I was talking about Jenny.”

Isaac studied the drink menu on the table for several excruciating seconds, while Tanner waited. The waitress placed the pizza on the table, and Tanner grabbed a piece, chewing slowly and still waited.

“I miss her, too,” Isaac croaked, sounding as choked up as Tanner.

Hot tears swam in Tanner’s eyes. Putting down the pizza slice, he reached across the table and grabbed his brother’s arm. “I’m sorry. For everything. I don’t blame you anymore.”

Isaac closed his eyes and blew out a shaky breath. Opening them, he met Tanner’s gaze and raised his hand to put it on top of Tanner’s. He blinked back the tears. “That means more than you’ll ever know.”

Tanner’s face heated as if he were lying on the beach on a hundred-degree day. “Yeah, it’s time for the Wolfe brothers to unite the pack.”

Isaac laughed, a loud, booming laugh, and Tanner joined in. It felt damn good to laugh, and it’d been too long.

Sobering, Tanner said, “I doubt little brother wants to re-join the pack.”

“Yeah, I know. I haven’t heard from Zeke in a couple years.”

“Me neither.” Tanner sat back against the seat and took a long pull from his beer. “He tried to take out a restraining order against me.”

“Me, too,” Isaac said. “It was denied because of lack of grounds, but I got the point.”

“So did I.”

“What brought about this change of heart?” Isaac played it casual, snagging his own piece of pizza.

“Partially Emma, and partially having nothing to do outside of football but think about the choices I’ve made over the years.”

“Not going so good with her, is it?”

Tanner shook his head, suddenly choked up again. “She loves singing.” A lone tear escaped and ran down his face. He swiped viciously at it with a napkin and glanced up at Isaac, whose expression reflected concern. “I don’t think she’s—she’s coming back.” Those words hurt worse than knee surgery without any anesthetics.

Isaac frowned. “You have to believe what you have together is strong enough to weather any storm, even this one.”

“I don’t even know what we have together.”

“Yeah, you do.” Isaac grinned at his brother. “Sometimes love sucks, and sometimes it’s the best thing on earth, but I’ve learned one thing—all the great times override the sucky ones, and love is worth fighting for.”

“What should I do? How do I fight for her? Should I go after her?”

“You’re not going to like this advice, but I recommend doing nothing. Absolutely nothing. Don’t force her or guilt her into a decision she’ll hate you for eventually. Give it time.”

“So you’re telling me to fight for her by not fighting for her?” Tanner scratched his head.

“Crazy, huh? Not the Wolfe way.”

Tanner nodded, still incredulous as this brother’s advice. “You want me to wait it out, and trust in a love we’ve never verbally acknowledged?”

“Something like that.” If Isaac was surprised at Tanner’s admission, he didn’t show it.

Hours later Tanner fell into an exhausted sleep after staring at that same ceiling he’d stared at for the past seven weeks, his heart aching with loneliness, not to mention his dick aching with horniness. His heart and his dick would need to be patient. He didn’t want any of those women who threw themselves in his path on a daily basis. Looking at them actually made his dick shrivel. He only wanted Emma.

And he’d wait for her until his dying day.

* * * *

Emma had lost track of how many times she’d stood on this stage in the past several weeks. Cindy called it fast-tracking, insisting Emma take advantage of opportunities as a fill-in backup for other shows. As a result, Emma sang every night of the week without a day off. She was exhausted, running on adrenaline, and desperately needing a few days to recuperate and rejuvenate her voice.

Emma stared out at the crowd for the umpteenth night in a row. She couldn’t really see the audience because of the bright lights, as she sang backup to the same old songs. She wanted to scream from the monotony. Nothing looked like it had that first night on stage or even the first week. The lights weren’t as bright, the audience wasn’t as enthusiastic, even Cindy didn’t seem as formidable.

Emma realized with a start that the thrill was gone. That rush she’d gotten when she’d first stepped on stage, the one she got when she did karaoke, was gone, leaving nothing but a big, gaping hole where her passion for all things music used to reside.

Surely, she was just tired. Rest would rejuvenate her ambition and her passion. That was all. Everybody got tired. She’d bet even Tanner had days when he didn’t want to play football. Her gut clenched at the thought of Tanner. He was the first thing she thought of when she woke and the last thing when she fell asleep, yet she’d rarely thought of him while performing until this past week. Now she thought of him more and more while she mechanically sang the words to songs she’d sung so often she’d grown to despise them.

Relieved when the show finally ended, Emma sank into a plush chair in the dressing room and leaned her head back, closing her eyes. She loved Christmas, being the one who’d always gone nuts decorating, which explained her current melancholy attitude. For the first time in her life, she’d missed Thanksgiving with her family, and she was about to miss Christmas in a few weeks. So of course, she was a little down. That’s all it was. Holiday stress. All that crap.

The click-click of heels on the hard floor jerked her eyes wide open.

“You look tired, honey,” said Cindy, appearing genuinely concerned.

“I am. A little.” Emma admitted, immediately regretting her admission. Cindy could be ruthless and unforgiving. The last thing Emma needed was for her to believe Emma couldn’t cut it.

Cindy grabbed a nearby chair and pulled it next to her. “I’m the first to admit I’m a selfish bitch. I’m also the biggest diva in a town bursting at the seams with divas, and it’s usually all about me, but, Emma, I’m not thinking about me right now, I’m thinking about you. I like you, Emma, and I truly have your best interests at heart.”

“Well, thank you. That means a lot.” Emma smiled wearily at Cindy; she’d come to like the temperamental woman also.

“You didn’t have it tonight. Our duet fell flat.” Cindy’s voice held no censure. If anything she sounded—Emma struggled for the word—troubled.

“I’m sorry. It’s the holidays, and I’m struggling, but that’s no excuse,” Emma apologized, feeling as if she’d let the woman down.

Cindy nodded slowly, giving Emma the impression she saw something Emma didn’t see. “You’re very talented, you have stage presence, and you have the voice of angels. You could go far.”

“But? I hear a but—”

“There’s something, and I can’t put my finger on it. But I will. To be in this business takes an iron will, endless stamina, and guilt-free ruthlessness.”

Emma nodded. “I’m beginning to see that.”

“As much as I’d love to jump-start your career in Nashville when I return in a month, I’m not sure I’ll be doing that.”

“I’ll work hard.” Emma should’ve been devastated, yet relief sliced through her.

“I know you will, but how badly do you really want this, Emma? Do you know what it can do to a person, especially a woman? How it can chew you up and spit you out as someone you don’t recognize?”

“I’m strong. I’ll be fine.”

“This is a tough business. You have to be one-hundred-percent committed twenty-four-seven. Everything takes a backseat to the music, your friends, your family, your kids. All of it. I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know. You’ve lived this life through your parents.” Cindy met her gaze, and Emma forced herself not to break eye contact. Cindy’s shrewd expression cut through Emma’s defenses, laying bare the real person cowering underneath, the Emma who prayed no one figured out she belonged at home with a good book—or a good man—more than she belonged on a stage.

“I’m not convinced this is where you should be.” Cindy leaned forward and sipped her ever-present glass of red wine. “Can I tell you a secret?”

Emma nodded, and her mentor glanced around as if making sure no one was listening. She lowered her voice to the husky, yet feminine rasp that had made her as famous as her lyrical singing voice. “Many years ago when I was your age, I left the only man I ever loved for Nashville. I was young, ambitious, and driven. Not once did I stop to weigh what I was giving up against what I was gaining.”

Emma nodded, waiting for the inevitable lecture on wanting this more than anything else, working harder, and putting the rest of her life on hold.

Cindy studied her long and hard before she continued, giving Emma the distinct impression this conversation was really difficult for her. Taking another sip of wine, Cindy continued, “I never found another man to replace the one I left behind. When I realized my mistake, I tried to go back. I couldn’t. He’d moved on with a wife and a family. I didn’t fit in his life anymore, Emma.” Her eyes were luminous with unshed tears.

“I’m so sorry.” Emma swallowed hard and forced herself to listen to Cindy’s next words.

“Here’s the truth behind the celebrity, honey—fame is fleeting, but love is precious. There are very few second chances so don’t destroy your one good chance at love because without love, we’re nothing.” Tears ran down Cindy’s face, taking half of her mascara with it and painting her cheeks with long streaks of black. “If I had it to do over again, I would give up everything for him in a heartbeat. I don’t have that choice. You still do.”