20. Tanner

TWENTY

TANNER

"Honey, you know we have landscapers, right?" my mom says, handing me a glass of lemonade. I stand, wiping the dirt from my hands before I take it, savoring the first sip. It's hot as balls outside and I've been working for hours.

"Yeah, and they do a shitty job," I reply. "The bark is starting to rot on this tree because they put too much mulch around it. And they did the same thing to the shrubbery around the porch. That's why it looks the way it does."

She looks back toward the house. "Jesus. Don't hold back, Tanner," she mumbles, making me huff a laugh.

It's been two months since the Valentines' anniversary party, and even though Grace's message that she's moved on was heard loud and clear, I can't seem to stay away from Hope Harbor. This is the fifth time I've been back since then, always finding a way to stay busy in my parents' front yard, hoping maybe I'll get a glimpse of her outside of her house. So far, I haven't, but the lawn is looking great with all the time I've been spending out here.

I started by tearing up the entire floor of their front porch last month when I noticed one loose board. My dad offered to help, but I told him I was bored with it being the offseason and that I was trying to stay busy. Then, I built my mom some new flower beds, even though there wasn't a damn thing wrong with the old ones. I had to really sell the idea by telling her she didn't have enough pollinator plants, thus guilting her into thinking she was part of the bee endangerment problem in New England. I'm not really proud of that, but it got her to stop asking questions.

Now, it's onto the mulch issue.

It's funny how I stayed away for so long, always finding an excuse to avoid being here. But now that I've broken the dam and seen Grace again, I have an overwhelming urge to be close. I know she hates me and that she probably doesn't want to see me, but I just have this nagging feeling that I need to be here.

"You know," my mom says, "you do have a little place of your own that could probably use some attention if you're so insistent on doing work. I was thinking maybe we could make some updates to?—"

"No," I say, probably more firmly than I should. She just wants to help. "I'm not going there. I'm fine right here, doing your yardwork for no pay." I smirk, trying to lighten the mood, and I'm thankful when she smiles back.

"Oh, my poor, sweet child," she mocks. "Is that two-hundred-million-dollar contract extension not covering your bills? Does mommy need to start giving you an allowance for doing your chores again?"

"For fuck's sake, woman," I mumble. "You better watch it or I'll pay off your mortgage when you're not looking."

My parents have refused to take a dime from me since I signed my new contract with the Blizzard. They're very successful and really don't need my help, but it seems ridiculous that they won't let me pay some of their bills when they sacrificed so much to get me where I am today. Not to mention, my contract is a hell of a lot more than I could ever need in this lifetime. I'm a single guy who lives alone. I give almost half of my salary to charity every year and still have more than enough to last me long after I retire.

"You don't scare me, Tanner Patrick," she says smugly before taking the empty glass from my hand and turning back toward the house. She gets halfway to the door before facing me again. "You know, you may get better results on the… yardwork if you do it after about a quarter to six on weekdays." Her eyes very briefly slide to the other side of the street before she heads back into the house while I stand there completely dumbfounded.

I shake my head, wondering how the fuck my mom knows why I'm out here. She couldn't possibly know the details. That I fell in love with the neighbor and broke her heart, and that's why I've spent years away from home. I may be her son, but if she really knew, she'd probably kick my ass. She'd have to get in line behind Riggs because that motherfucker would have me eating through a straw if he found out what went down that summer. I'd allow it, too. I deserve that and more for what I did to Grace, although knowing she's going to marry Cash fucking Hadley hurts worse than anything they could do to me.

I can't help but wonder if I pushed her right into his arms. She told me back then that when he touched her, it didn't feel right. Did I leave her so vulnerable that he swooped in and took advantage of her? Or did she just genuinely fall for him? I have so many questions, but what would having answers really get me? More regret? Probably.

I try to distract myself by removing some of the mulch mountains from around the trees in the yard, hoping I can save them before the roots rot completely. Before I know it, the summer sun has cooled off and I look up just in time to see a white SUV turn the corner, pulling into the driveway at the old Robinson house. The light glares off the window at the worst possible angle, preventing me from seeing her completely, but I know it's her by the golden hair framing her face. My shoulders sag as the garage door opens and she pulls inside and out of my view.

I work for a little while longer, praying to God that she comes out to get the mail or something, but give up when the darkness starts to settle in and I hear crickets chirping in the distance. I notice that Cash still hasn't arrived home, and I wonder if Grace ate dinner alone. Is this normal for him to work well into the evening? The thought makes me angry because she deserves better than that. She deserves someone who rushes to be with her at the end of every workday. Someone who counts the hours until he can look into those beautiful blue eyes again.

I could've been that guy. Instead, I'm standing here like a fucking creep hoping she isn't sitting by the door waiting for him to come home.

I pack up the yard tools, returning them to the garage and trying to figure out when I can come back again. I just want another glimpse of her. I want to know that she really is happy and loved the way she should be.

Training camp starts in a few days, so it's going to be harder to make trips out here during the week, but I'll have to figure it out. Because no matter how badly it hurts knowing she's right down the street in a house that she shares with another man, I can't help it. Being in close proximity to Grace again feels like a missing piece has been returned to my otherwise empty existence.