Take the Fall (Take the Fall, #1)(9)



I park my ass on the barstool until that damn song is over, then pay my bill and head to the only real home I’ve known. I need a shower and to find out where Rowan is living. The last I heard from my grandmother, Rowan had been planning on getting her own place.

Not that I’d asked. No, my grandmother had accidentally on purpose let it slip the last time I’d talked to her. Right before my last deployment. I’d planned on talking to Rowan that day, but circumstances out of my control prompted me to leave town a hell of a lot sooner than I’d wanted.

Duty had called and the possibility of being accused of going AWOL didn’t sit well with me.

Pushing open the door, I walk outside and head to my truck, gravel and oyster shells crunching under my boots.

Though it’s only five in the afternoon, the sun has already begun to set and I press a little harder on the gas. I’m ready to make things right. Yeah, it might be a little soon, but is it, really? It’s been seven years.

Unlucky seven. I f*cking hate that number.





Chapter 2





Seth


Driving to my grandmother’s house, all I can think about is Rowan. It’s like the closer I physically am to her, the more she consumes my every waking thought.

I take a left onto Spruce Drive, and I park my truck in the driveway of the fifth house on the right, entirely relieved that there’s only one other car parked on the street. I don’t think I could have handled a bunch of people eating while they commiserated over what a fine woman my grandmother was, in true southern mourning tradition.

Yet, I’d allowed Rowan to deal with it. Guess that’s one more thing to add to my list of important things to apologize for.

Fishing my key to the house out of my coat pocket, I take in my surroundings. The place has been kept up, and there’s a black Camaro in the drive. A red racing stripe runs from hood to trunk.

I blink. That’s Tony Johnson’s car. Okay, so it’s a majorly improved version of the rat bastard’s car. Still…What. The. Ever-loving. Fuck.

Piper Ross comes around the corner of the house, a casserole dish in one hand. Her face pales when she sees me, and she stumbles as she tries to avoid crashing into me. I catch her before she goes ass over heels into the flower bed.

“You okay?” I ask gently. The girl has always been easy to spook, but she’s sweet, too. Her standoffishness is completely related to an obvious lack of self-assuredness. Something Rowan possesses in spades. I have yet to meet a woman more confident than Rowan.

Her gaze slides to the house, and then back to me. “Yes.”

“Thanks for including me in the funeral arrangements.”

She smiles shyly. “I’m glad to be of help. I know it must have been hard to be in Jacksonville while everything was going on here.”

With a little smile, I let her go and try to get a look into the dish. “You could have left that on the back porch, I would have gotten it. A man’s got to eat supper, and I haven’t had time to get groceries yet.”

Piper’s eyes get so big that I start to feel sorry for her. “You’re buying groceries?”

“Yeah. Figured staying here was cheaper than getting a hotel.” Plus, this was my home. I need to say good-bye before I sell it.

“You’re staying here?” She almost wheezes.

“It is my home,” I say evenly and take a step forward.

Her five-foot-nothing hundred-pound self moves slightly to block me. Color me surprised as shit. “Oh, yeah, it is, but um, with…everything, don’t you want to…stay somewhere else?”

My bullshit detector goes off. “Why would I want to stay somewhere else?”

She bites her bottom lip. “Because I heard you went ballistic when you found out about Mrs. Gardner’s passing. I’m sorry.”

Gossip spread faster than an STD in this town, especially when the gossip was juicy and false. “About what?”

“Your loss.”

“Thank you.” Weariness seeps into my bones suddenly. I run a hand through my hair. “What is Tony’s Camaro doing here?”

“It’s always here,” she says evasively.

“Really?” And my bullshit detector’s back on. There’s no way Rowan would let him within five feet of this place.

“Yep,” she says firmly, then starts to nibble on her bottom lip. “Except when it’s not.”

Well, that clears everything up. I’d have better luck asking the car why it’s here. Then it hits me, square between the eyes and right in the nuts. “She still lives here, doesn’t she?”

Piper smashes her lips together, making me admire her a little more. Her loyalty, although misguided, is commendable, and it’s more than I can say about her best friend’s.

“You don’t have to say a word. Rowan and I have it all worked out.”

Her eyebrows shoot to her hairline. “Y’all talked after the funeral?”

I nod.

“Okay.” She pats my arm. “I really am sorry. I’m glad you and Rowan worked everything out. She’s missed you, you know.”

Yeah, Rowan used to miss me, but I’d made sure to disabuse her of the notion that I could ever give a f*ck about her again. “Have a good night, Piper.”

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