One in a Million(17)

“Do I have a choice since I have to live with you for a week?”

Tanner blew out a breath. There was no gain in telling him that Elisa had dictated that decree. All it would do was hurt him, something Tanner was going to make sure didn’t happen on his watch. “I’m your dad,” he said. “That means this is more of a dictatorship than a democracy. So yeah, you’re with me this week. My rules include: respecting your mom, respecting your employer—whoever that may be—not getting in trouble at school, and in general being a decent human being. It does not include you being forced to work for me. That’s your choice. Now I’ve got a lot of shit to get to so I’m going to ask you one more time. Yes or no?”

Troy shoved his hands in his pockets. “I get grounded for saying the word ‘shit.’ Or ‘hell.’ Or ‘fuck.’” He said this last with great defiance, and Tanner decided to pick his battles.

Besides, he and Cole and Sam swore like it was their job, so he didn’t have a soapbox to stand on with this one. “Yeah, well, when you’re as old as I am no one’ll ground you for swearing,” he promised.

“That’s not fair.”

“Nope,” Tanner agreed. “But life isn’t fair. Yes or no, Troy.”

Another shrug. “I guess.”

Tanner studied him a moment. “I’ll take that as a ‘oh, thank you, Dad, yes,’” he finally said dryly. “You’ll be scrubbing the deck today.”

As if he’d just been asked to make molehills out of mountains, Troy blew out a breath and rolled his eyes. Which was just about the kid’s favorite thing to do, and if he persisted at it, Tanner was going to put those eyes in a jar and roll them for him. “The equipment’s in the hut.”

The hut was what they used for the front office of Lucky Harbor Charters. “Mark’s already in,” Tanner said. “He’ll get you what you need.”

“The old guy?” Troy asked. “He tells stupid stories and never stops talking.”

“Mark is Sam’s father,” Tanner said, “and you’ll need to give him the same amount of respect that you’d give me, Sam, or Cole.” Tanner held Troy’s gaze for a long beat, but apparently Troy was smarter than he looked because he didn’t quite dare roll his eyes again.

But neither did he look happy or thrilled, or any of the things Tanner had ideally hoped to see. Apparently, getting Troy’s head out of his own ass was going to take some time. And just as apparently, the two of them working together was going to make them or break them, though Tanner would accept nothing less than success—God help them both. Because there was no going back. Like the explosives Tanner had worked with for so many years, he had one chance to get this right, to avoid blowing things sky high with his son.

He received an email and glanced at it. It was from his mom.

Honey, I stopped by the B&B spa and picked up a deep muscle tissue cream for your leg. You remember Chloe Traeger? Well, she’s Chloe Thompson now, married to the sheriff, and she runs the spa. She says to come by so she can massage the knots out of your leg. She said you need to be doing this weekly. Also, she wants you to do yoga with her for PT.



Tanner did remember Chloe, vividly. She’d been as wild as he, and a lot of fun. But he would do yoga with her over his cold, dead body.

Troy read the email over his shoulder and snorted.

Tanner slid him a look. “What?”

“Grandma’s pretty bossy for a nice old lady.”

Tanner couldn’t help it—he had to laugh. “Don’t let her hear you call her old or you’ll really see bossy.”

“You going to do the yoga?”

Hell, no. But he didn’t want to form the kid’s negative opinions. “There’s nothing wrong with yoga.”

“Yeah, if you’re a girl,” Troy said.

Tanner deleted the email.

“You think she’ll be baking brownies again anytime soon?” Troy asked, an unmistakable note of hope in his voice.

Tanner met Troy’s gaze. “She told you she baked those brownies herself?”

“Yeah.”

Tanner laughed. “She buys them at the bakery from Leah.”

“Really? Why did she lie about it?”

“She didn’t. I guarantee you she heated them up in her oven specifically so as to not be lying.” He shrugged at Troy’s confused expression. “Look, for most of your life, you’ve lived far away from her and she didn’t get to spoil you. She wants to be the grandma who bakes. But she can’t bake, she burns everything, so she buys the brownies and reheats them.”