Meant to Be Mine (A Porter Family Novel Book #2) Read online

  “Bo, I can carry—”

  “Not on my watch.” He gave her a crooked grin, a grin that admitted to all kinds of weaknesses where she was concerned.

  Meg shook her head, lips curving. “You’re hopeless.”

  “Yes,” he agreed.

  Meg crossed toward Celia. “Is there something I can do inside?”

  “Absolutely.”

  What in the world was going on?

  While his brother Jake pulled into a parking spot across the street from Celia’s house, Ty sat in the passenger seat, scanning the scene. The moving truck he’d hired stood at the curb and lots of guys around his age were carrying boxes from it into Celia’s place.

  Ty frowned. Who’d invited strangers?

  He let himself out and made his way toward the house on his crutches. Jake grabbed a case of bottled water from the truck bed and fell into step beside him.

  Ty motioned his chin toward the water. “What’s that?”

  “I wanted to get Celia something. You know, for her housewarming or whatever.”

  “Bottled water?”

  “It’s practical.”

  Ty would have teased Jake if Jake had still been up for teasing. But ever since he’d come home from Iraq, injured and fighting post-traumatic stress, his younger brother had been grim. Jake was no longer the brother Ty’d once known, the brother who’d teased and taken teasing. Nor was he someone who laughed. Or even smiled.

  As they neared the front door, Bo walked out, his face red from heat and work. “Hey.” He came to a stop in front of them. “How’s everything at the farm?” he asked Jake.

  “Fine.”

  “Who are all these people?” Ty indicated the men walking past.

  “They’re friends of ours from church.”

  Married friends or single friends? Ty wanted to ask. Genuine irritation shifted through him. He didn’t want single guys without busted legs unpacking Celia’s stuff.

  “We’re unloading pretty fast,” Bo continued. “I think we’ll have the truck empty in another thirty minutes.”

  “I’ll go set this down and help you.” Jake walked into the house.

  Bo eyed Ty. “I spent some time talking to Celia. She seems nice. And your little girl is great.”

  “Yeah.”

  “She looks like you.”

  “You think so? I think she looks like her mother.”

  “Mostly. But she has your dimple, just on the one side. It looks dumber than a stump on you but cute on her.” Bo smiled, clapped him on the shoulder, and moved past.

  Inside the living room, Ty saw that Celia’s furniture had been pushed to the center of the space. No doubt she wanted to leave herself room to paint before moving the pieces into their places.

  He glanced into the front bedroom as he passed, looking for Celia. His parents were making up her bed, an open cardboard box between them. Inside Addie’s room, women were unpacking books and placing them on the bookshelves. “Daddy!” Addie ran to him and hugged him.

  “Hi, sweetheart.”

  “Our stuff came.”

  “Good.”

  “I’m going to be in here.” She skipped into her pink room. “Helping.”

  “All right. I’ll catch up with you in a little bit.”

  He found his sister-in-law, Meg, and two other women in the kitchen, taking newspaper off glassware. He had a soft spot a mile wide for his sister-in-law, who’d proven herself to be one of the kindest people alive. “Hi, Meg. Have you decided to leave my brother and run away with me yet?”

  “I heard that!” Bo yelled from another part of the house.

  “Oops,” Ty whispered.

  Meg laughed. “I think I’ll stick with Bo for the time being. I sorta like him.”

  “I was afraid of that.” He looked questioningly toward the other two women, a blonde and a redhead. The blonde, Kelsey, had been in his high school youth group. “Either of you want to run away with me?”

  “I do!” they replied in unison.

  “Well, that’s more like it.”

  “It’s good to see you again Ty,” the redhead said. “It’s been years.”

  He didn’t remember her. Not at all.

  “Andria,” she supplied.

  He drew a blank. “That’s right. How are you?”

  “I’m doing really well.”

  “How are you lately?” Kelsey asked him, her face full of pity. “The whole town’s been real worried about you since your injury.”

  So much for hoping all these church people were married. These two were as single as they came. “Doing okay.” He lifted a shoulder. “It’s my own fault. Got what I deserved for falling off a bull.”

  “Aww,” Andria crooned.

  Meg rolled her eyes.

  “I hope you feel better soon.” Kelsey spoke with such syrupy sympathy, he could have poured it on pancakes.

  Celia appeared in the kitchen doorway that led to the dining room, looking annoyed. Lord have mercy, she was wearing the yellow tank top again. She’d put on cut-off jean shorts and pulled her hair back with one of her stretchy headbands. No shoes, just an anklet, a handful of Bubble Wrap, and a dusty streak on her forehead. She gave him a slit-eyed glare, then disappeared back into the dining room.

  He wanted to laugh.

  “Thanks for helping out around here today,” he said to the women.

  “Our pleasure, Ty.”

  As he was moving around them to the dining room, he spotted some mostly empty plates of food. “What’s this?”

  “Celia made it all,” Meg answered. “Everything’s wonderful.”

  As if the yellow tank top weren’t enough. She’d baked? He’d always had a sweet tooth. He’d been on the road for years and had eaten three lifetimes worth of restaurant food, but not nearly enough homemade desserts.

  Since it would be rude to do what he wanted to do and take everything that was left, he grabbed a muffin and two of the buttery-looking cookies.

  “That’s going to be hard for you to carry.” Kelsey hurried over and held out a napkin. “Here, let me.”

  “Thanks.” He set the food on her napkin and made his way into the dining room with Kelsey on his heels.

  Celia stood next to the built-in china cabinet, pulling Bubble Wrap off plates and stacking them inside. She didn’t look in his direction.

  “You good?” Kelsey placed his food carefully on the dining room table next to him. Quite the nurse.

  “Sure am.”

  “Let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”

  “Thanks.”

  She gave him a long moment of eye contact before returning to the kitchen. If he kissed Kelsey, he didn’t think he’d get slapped.

  Balancing his weight on his crutches, he ripped off a piece of muffin. As soon as it hit his tongue he got drunk on it. Bananas, walnuts, sugar, cinnamon—all in perfect balance. Nothing like store bought. Fresh and so soft it melted in your mouth. . . . He groaned.

  Celia shot him a glance.

  “I’ve got a thing for sweet stuff,” he explained.

  “I didn’t remember.”

  “They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach—”

  “I didn’t bake them for you, showboat.”

  Instead of all the physical therapy appointments, the laps he’d been swimming daily, and the medicines, his doctors should have recommended he eat Celia’s food and listen to her call him names. Those two things made him feel a long shot better than all the rest. “I hate that nickname.”

  “Big showboat. How’s that?”

  He swallowed, then took another bite and almost sank to his knees in ecstasy. “Isn’t it a little ironic that the woman who’s against red food dye makes the most sugary desserts in the country?”

  “I have a multifaceted personality.”

  “This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten in my life.”

  She pushed a curly strand of hair off her face and studied him. “Exaggerate much?”

  “
Not about food.”

  Her attention moved down to his jaw, stayed there, then slid lower and stalled on his chest.

  Awareness hammered through him. He stopped chewing.

  She wanted him. Maybe not as a boyfriend and certainly not as a husband. But physically, she did. She’d told him as much yesterday when she’d admitted that her body had a weakness for him. Just one look like that from her sent his own body racing.

  She returned to stacking dishes.

  “Were you just staring at my pecs?” he asked.

  “What? No!” She kept her back to him. “As stated in our discussion yesterday, we’re just friends.”

  Celia had put Addie forward as the main reason why the two of them couldn’t date. He’d thought about their kiss and their conversation all night and all morning. “Don’t mess around with me,” Celia had said to him. “All right?”

  Addie wasn’t the only one who needed protecting from his actions. He’d done so much damage to Celia the last time that she’d kept his child from him.

  She’d convinced him yesterday that it would be best for all three of them if he kept his hands off her. At home, an hour ago, that truth had been clear in his mind and his plan to marry Tawny had once again made sense to him. But here, with Celia in front of him, he couldn’t remember why. For reasons he didn’t understand, Celia had the ability to confuse him, to turn his good intentions to dust. She made him lose trust in himself.

  Give all your attention to Addie, you dummy. Quit worrying about her mother. Now that he had Celia and Addie in Holley, he simply needed to focus on growing his relationship with his daughter.

  Clack. Clack clack clack. Celia set more dishes into the cabinet. “Are you planning on being helpful? Or are you going to stand around eating all day?”

  Ty polished off the muffin and half a cookie. “My leg’s a mess, remember? Eating is all I’m good for.”

  “Don’t forget flirting.”

  “Flirting?”

  “You’re good for that.”

  He cocked his head. A smile crept across his mouth. “Are you jealous?”

  She huffed.

  “’Cause I am of you. Have any of these guys been hitting on you?”

  “Yes. All.”

  “And?”

  “I haven’t decided which one I’ll make my boyfriend yet, but the day’s still young.”

  “If I have to whup somebody around here, Celia, I will.”

  “Then start with Jake. He brought me this.” She pointed with her dainty foot toward the gigantic pack of water. “You have to admit, that’s a romantic gift.”

  “If so, I must not understand the definition of romantic.” He eased himself onto a chair and bent to unload one of the boxes.

  “Everyone in your family brought me something today. Your parents brought me lavender sachets from France. Meg and Bo gave me a set of kitchen tools. It was really nice of them. I didn’t expect anything.”

  “We’re hospitable down here in Texas.”

  Celia sliced open a new cardboard box. “Meg and Bo seem happy together.”

  “They are.” He could hear Meg deep in conversation with the other women in the kitchen. “Bo used to be normal before he fell so crazy in love with her. You should see him whenever one of us suggests doing something even a little bit dangerous.”

  “Like?”

  “Four-wheeling. Water-skiing. Bo, Jake, Dru, and I grew up doing stuff like that. But mention it in front of Meg these days, and Bo hits the ceiling. He’s like a caveman over her.”

  “Overprotective?”

  “Kind of like you with Addie.”

  “I’m not overprotective. I’m just . . . careful.”

  That little necklace of hers was making him crazy. The small gold circle hung in the hollow between her collarbones, catching the light. Every time she leaned over to unpack something, it dangled. He wanted to push it aside with his nose and press his lips to the spot. He inhaled raggedly and watched the necklace sway with burning eyes.

  “Ty?”

  “Hmm?”

  “You’re frowning.”

  “I’m worried that you’re going to paint this dining room a crazy color.”

  “Well, I won’t be painting it brown like over at your house, that’s for sure.”

  “Here.” He pulled two credit cards from his back pocket and set them on the table. “I got you a Lowe’s card. Charge anything you need for the house. Paint or whatever.”

  Lines formed across her forehead.

  “The other one’s a debit card. I set up an account for you at my bank. I figured Addie would have school expenses.” He went back to lifting stuff out of his box. He knew it was difficult for Celia to accept help, so he didn’t want to make a big deal out of this.

  “Thanks, but I can’t take the cards.”

  Figured. “Sure you can. I’m Addie’s father, and I owe you for child support—”

  “You’ve added us to your health insurance plan and bought us a car and a house, Ty. I’d say we’re even.”

  His brows crashed down. “No we’re not. A judge would want me to give you something every month to help with Addie.” He slid the cards down the table in her direction. “This is the least I can do.”

  She pursed her lips.

  “Please,” he said.

  “I can’t.”

  He had a fear, a very real fear, that she meant exactly what she said. He pushed to his feet, which sent a jolt of pain up through his left hip. He gritted his teeth against it. “I’d have painted this house already, except I wanted you to pick your own colors. If you’re not going to take the Lowe’s card, then I’m going to go buy brown.”

  “I’m going to buy my own paint, Ty Porter. And that’s final.”

  “Celia,” he growled. He wanted to give her and Addie whatever stupid, girly, bright-colored thing they wanted. If he couldn’t do that, then what good was the money he’d made?

  The shape of her chin turned stubborn. “I’ve met you in the middle as much as I’m going to. I’ve moved here, and I’m driving around in the car you gave me, but that’s it. That’s as far as I’m going to go. Which reminds me, I appreciate the boots you gave me, but I can’t accept them, either. Before you leave I’ll give them back to you so that you can return them.”

  “I am not taking back the boots.”

  “Yes—”

  “No. I’m definitely not.” Ty faced off against her, glaring the words You’re a pain in the neck.

  She answered him with a look that said, So are you, buddy.

  He’d always thought of himself as daring, but this small person with the curly hair and the pretty face might be braver than he was. “You planning to be the death of me, Celia?”

  “Not quite. Don’t you remember? If you die, they’ll repossess my Prius.”

  “Knock, knock.” A masculine voice. Ty glanced at the door that led into the living room. A man stood in the opening behind two boys. “Sorry to interrupt. I just came by to introduce myself. I live next door.”

  “Oh, hi!” Celia put on the kind of happy face she never wore around Ty and moved to the newcomer to shake his hand. “I’m Celia. My daughter, Addie, and I are moving in today.”

  “I’m Neill Martin.”

  Celia had said my daughter. She’d most definitely not said our daughter.

  “This is Ty.” Celia gestured to him.

  Neill leaned over, and they shook hands.

  Stepping back, Neill took hold of his boys’ shoulders. “These are my sons Tanner and Tyson.” One of them looked about Addie’s age, the other a few years older.

  “Addie will be excited to meet you.” Celia smiled at the boys. “She’s in her room around the corner if you want to go say hello.”

  The boys looked at Neill, who nodded. They took off.

  “They’re with me every other weekend and on Wednesday nights,” Neill said to Celia. “They’re with their mother the rest of the time.”

  Of all the houses in Holley, Ty
had bought Celia the one next to a divorced dad. Awesome.

  “We’ll have to get the kids together sometime,” Neill said, staring at Celia the way a calf stares at its mother.

  Ty stopped himself before audibly refusing Neill’s request. Crazy guess, but he didn’t think Celia would take that well.

  “I’d like that,” Celia answered.

  “Where did you move from?”

  As Celia and Neill talked, Ty remained silent, watching the two of them. The cheerful personality Celia had put on to chat with this stranger had little in common with her real personality, the feisty-as-feisty-gets personality she showed Ty.

  Ty could tell that Neill was digging Celia, and why wouldn’t he? A man would have to be blind not to dig Celia. Especially in that yellow top. Especially with the fake personality she was wearing.

  “I’m an attorney,” Neill was saying. “I commute to Plano for work.”

  Neill looked to be about thirty-five. He had shiny black hair, glasses, a polo shirt, topsiders. Neill was about as different from Ty as caviar was different from Cheetos.

  Celia couldn’t seriously like this putz. Cheetos were better than caviar. Everybody knew that.

  As their conversation continued, however, it seemed that Celia might prefer caviar. Yesterday she’d told him that there was no chance of a romance between them and that she wanted to make their divorce official. This Neill was probably the type of character she’d date as soon as the ink dried on their divorce certificate.

  Ty’s chest tightened at the thought. He wanted nothing more than to sweep out his arm and push Celia behind him. She was his wife.

  At the same time, she wasn’t his wife. He had no influence over her choices. She lived alone in this house with Addie. Neill lived next door. And Ty lived across town. Celia and Neill would have easy access to each other, and Ty wouldn’t be close enough to do a single sorry thing about it.

  Even so. The thought that filled his head?

  Over my dead body.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Celia painted the interior of her house in colors more commonly found inside a package of tropical-flavored Starbursts. For the living room: pale aqua. The dining room: piña colada yellow. Kitchen: mango. Hallway and bathroom: honeydew melon green. Her bedroom: the light purple of an orchid petal.