A Father's Name(45)

A loud boom over the bay pulled Tyler back to reality, and regretfully, he broke off the kiss. “I think we should watch the fireworks.”

Another boom broke loose. Tyler felt the sound reverberate in the pit of his stomach. Or maybe it was the enormity of what he’d done.

What he was doing.

He was falling head over heels for Angelina Tucker, and he couldn’t let that happen. He was about to say as much when she interrupted his thoughts, “You’re not saying it, Ty.”

“Saying what?” He waited, sure she was going to want to talk about their kiss and try to make it mean more than he could ever allow it to mean.

“Ooh. Ahh. That’s the only proper response to fireworks. You take turns with them.”

A large orange firework snowballed in the sky. “Ooh,” Tucker said.



A group of small, white fireworks zipped to and fro after it. “Ahh.”

He forgot about warning her off.

Tyler Martinez forgot about all the reasons he needed to stay away from Angelina Tucker. He simply sat back and watched her enjoying the fireworks, oohing and ahhing along with her, although he knew she was oohing over the fireworks and he was ahhing about what he couldn’t have.

He’d told her about his father, and she’d assured him she would never let him turn into his father. She’d protect Jace.

But it wasn’t his father’s physical abuse that hurt the most, it was the memory of how he’d treated Tyler’s mother before she died.

Sometimes, secretly, Tyler thought his mother died because she finally gave up. Gave up hoping, gave up dreaming, gave up believing in anything.

He knew what that was like. He could have given up back then as well, but he’d had a friend in Jason when he was growing up, and now, after losing Jason, he had Angelina.

He had her as a friend.

He liked her too much to let it be anything more than that. He continued to watch her as they oohed and ahhed.

When he’d first asked her out, he’d been casual about it, figuring that’s what would appeal to her.

He knew her better now, and knew despite her penchant for funny t-shirts, there was nothing casual about Angelina Tucker.



And more importantly, there was nothing casual about his feelings for her.

Which is why that last kiss was the last kiss.

She deserved more than he would ever be able to give her. She deserved a man with a sterling reputation. A man without a past. She deserved love, laughter and a lifetime of happiness.

None of that was in the cards for him. He was, despite all his attempts, and hers, his father’s son, and Angelina Tucker deserved more than that.

And he cared enough about her to see to it that she got everything she deserved.





CHAPTER SEVEN



TUCKER FELT AS IF SHE were playing some strange tug-of-war with herself…and with Tyler.

One moment they were kissing with fireworks crashing overhead and the next moment he was treating her as if that kiss that had blown her socks off had never happened. As if she were a bosom buddy as they dealt with Jace’s needs.

Two weeks of it.

Tyler would pick up Jace from her each day after work and practically sprint to his car. He’d hand off Jace the next morning minutes before he needed to start work, leaving no time for any uncomfortable conversations.

She looked down at the T-shirt she’d found on her workbench this afternoon. A long haired man in a black robe on a motorcycle with the words I Ride, Therefore I Am emblazoned on it. Underneath the main caption was a tiny caption that read, What Descartes Would Have Said if He Had a Harley.

Tyler had left it with a simple Post-it. “Saw this and thought of you. It’s a small thank you for all your help with Jace.”

The T-shirt was perfect—the Post-it was generic.

Tucker sighed as she fingered the soft cotton shirt. Tyler treated her as if she had the plague, but knew her well enough to know how much she’d love a T-shirt that combined motorcycles with philosophy.

The only meaningful conversations they’d had since the Fourth were about Jace and the business. Tyler was building a new set of online templates that were supposed to speed up the process.

Her father had never changed his methods since she was small. Tyler was bringing Tucker’s Garage’s books into the twenty-first century. He waxed poetic about the Excel program he’d set up.

She looked at the T-shirt in her hand. He’d seen it and thought of her?