“And while we’re talkin’ about it, I’d love to give the house to Jude and Arden and move in here with you as soon as Briggs is good with it.”
“I have a feeling we might already have his blessing.”
“I think you’re right.” Closing the distance, I cage him against the counter and drag my nose up the column of his throat. “Anything else you want to talk about?”
“I’m going to tell my parents they can fuck off and lose my number.” Pulling back to meet his gaze, I find only resolve there. “They made my kid cry—there’s no coming back from that.”
“Then let me be the first to congratulate you on getting everything you’ve ever wanted.”
46
TANNER
Despite my insistence that a private jetandcar service were unnecessary for this little trip, I’m happy that I won’t have to be here longer than is required. Sorren had snorted out a laugh when I told him I was booking a ticket to see my parents, and before the conversation was even finished, I had a message from Hank saying that his wife had everything handled.
Handled.
Like picking up milk on your way home from work.
It’s absurd, but their generosity means I’ll have all of this behind me before the day is over.
Finally.
I wish I was surprised that it’s all come down to this, but on some level, I’ve known this would be how it ends. Deacon wanted to come with me and so did Fallon. Hell, even Otto, Sorren, the rest of the family, and everyone in Blackstone Falls once word got around.
They showed up for me with their words and affirmations and in Ellison’s case, a healthy dose of low-key violence to round things out.
Unconditional love and support.
The way it should be.
And it’s the reason I’m sitting at the curb in this town car outside my parents’ house. I hoped I’d never have to do this.
But Briggs deserves better.
And so do I.
Pulling my phone from the pocket of my jacket, I type out a message and smile when one comes back immediately.
TANNER: I’m here.
DEACON: I love you.
DEACON: You can do this.
TANNER: I love you. I’ll let you know when I’m on the way back to the airport.
DEACON: I’ll be waiting to bring you home.
Home.
The place where he and Briggs are, along with the people of two neighboring towns that have helped me become the man I am today.
Steeling myself, I tell the driver I’ll be back and open the door and take in the home that I’ve only been to once before. The white siding and black shutters are pristine as is the landscaping even though it’s December and winter will be here before we know it.
My footsteps are unhurried as I follow the pathway to the front door, rapping twice on the painted wood before stepping back.
Muffled voices precede my father as he opens the door, surprise on his face, his hair freshly cut and pristine, face shaven, and his clothes wrinkle free.
