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

  “It’s good to see you.”

  She raised an eyebrow. Did he expect her to respond in kind? If so, he could wait all day.

  “You look great.”

  She blew out a frustrated breath.

  He hefted a shoulder. “You do.”

  She glared at him through her sunglasses, trying to wither him with disdain.

  Their waitress came over, her face lighting with recognition when she saw Celia. “Hey!”

  “Hi.” The young woman looked vaguely familiar, but Celia couldn’t place her.

  “How are you doing?” the waitress asked.

  “I’m well. You?”

  “Just fine.” She handed them both menus, her movement stuttering when she got her first full look at Ty. “Can . . . can I get you something to drink?”

  When Ty ordered iced tea she grinned widely at him, as if he’d said something funny.

  After she moved off, Ty flicked open his menu. “What type of restaurant is this?”

  “Health food.”

  “Do they serve burgers?”

  “Veggie burgers.” A tiny shaft of pleasure twanged within her.

  “BLTs?”

  “FBLTs.”

  He glanced at her. “Which is?”

  “Fakin’ bacon, lettuce, and tomato.”

  “And fakin’ bacon is made from?”

  “Organic tempeh. It’s vegan.”

  “Well, that’s good to hear. I’m a big fan of tempeh.” He set the menu on the edge of the table. “What’re you having?”

  “Nothing.” The ball of nerves formerly known as her stomach wasn’t useful for actual eating. Also, she hadn’t sunk a dollar into expensive restaurant food in months.

  “No appetite?”

  “No.”

  “Not sure how you can resist an FBLT.” His crooked half smile sent his dimple into his cheek. “Is this a kid table?” He indicated his wooden seat, which did look miniature with him on it, and their tiny round table. “Why’s it so small?”

  “It’s not small.”

  “Did you choose this place for the small tables or the lack of privacy or because you knew I’d hate the food?”

  “The lack of privacy and because I knew you’d hate the food. The small tables have come as a surprising perk.”

  Another flash of dimple.

  Celia didn’t mention that the outdoor seating also permitted her to wear her sunglasses as a shield.

  The waitress delivered Ty’s tea, then took his FBLT order while giving him a free helping of eye contact with a side of flirting.

  Celia glanced around and caught several women studying him surreptitiously. Foolish, misguided women.

  When their waitress moved off, Ty added sweetener to his tea and stirred it as if he had all the time in the world. “I was just in Vegas. I saw the Luv Shack while I was there. Do you remember it?”

  “No.” Or at least she tried not to.

  “Seeing it made me want to finish the unfinished business between us.”

  “The business between us is finished, Ty. Completely, totally finished.”

  “Then how come we’re still legally married?”

  She frowned. “I could ask you the same thing.”

  “I asked you first.”

  She fiddled with her fork, positioning it perfectly. “I haven’t done anything about the marriage because I assumed you’d file for divorce and I’d simply sign the paper.” Also, she’d had a baby to worry about and an ongoing lack of funds. She slid her hands into her lap. “Why haven’t you filed?”

  A shadow passed over his face. “I’ve never had a reason.”

  “What about Tawny?” It cost Celia to say the other woman’s name out loud, but since he was putting her through this meeting, she figured he owed her some answers.

  “When I went back to Holley and told her about you, she made our breakup permanent.” He raised a brow. “What? Does it surprise you that she wouldn’t forgive me?”

  “A little.”

  He leaned back in his chair. “After the story of our wedding spread through Holley, I was an outlaw to my own family for weeks. They came around slowly. The town started to forgive me when I turned pro and began winning events on the circuit. But Tawny wouldn’t even speak to me for more than a year. It took me another two to earn back her friendship.”

  “Did she marry someone else?” Celia vehemently hoped she had.

  “She’s had one boyfriend after another, but she hasn’t married any of them. Despite everything that’s happened, Tawny and I are still meant for each other, and she knows it. The next time she kicks a boyfriend to the curb, I’m going to make my move.”

  His words hurt Celia more than anticipated. She squared her shoulders. “In that case, let’s go ahead and complete the paper work and make our divorce official.”

  He slipped his phone from his pocket and held a finger over it. “What’s your address?”

  “There’s no need for you to have my address.” That he knew her phone number and home city already scared the stuffing out of her.

  “So I can send you the divorce papers?”

  She pulled her attorney’s business card from her purse and pushed it halfway across the table. Thankfully Uncle Danny’s best friend from childhood was willing to represent her for a dramatically reduced fee. “You can send the papers to my lawyer.”

  He put the business card and his phone into his pocket without comment.

  Celia lifted her purse from the ground. “Since it seems we’ve said everything there is to say, I’ll be heading out—”

  “Nope. I’m not done yet.”

  She stilled, frowning. “Is the remainder of this discussion required or optional?”

  “Required. If you want me to leave town, that is.” His lips curled up a little on one side, self-deprecating. “Which I can tell that you do.”

  She set her purse back on the ground.

  He slid off his sunglasses and set them on the table. The blue of his eyes—such a clear, bright, startling color—struck her like a cuff to the head. Just as he was about to speak, a waiter stopped at their table to refill his iced tea.

  Celia angled her face toward the street to avoid Ty’s scrutiny. You can make it through this one meeting, Celia. Her hands were trembling slightly and her blood pressure had climbed to a level that had to be unsafe. Just this one meeting. Then he’ll go.

  Ty studied her profile.

  Celia in the flesh, right here in front of him after all this time. Angry and beautiful. Familiar and different.

  She had on a stretchy circle of a headband, the size of a shoe-string, that kept her hair out of her face. Her curls fell to her shoulders, an inch or two shorter than he remembered. She’d set her chin at a stubborn angle. Slim nose. Pale pink lips. He wished he could get a look at her eyes, but she’d hidden them behind a pair of sunglasses.

  She wore what looked like a pirate shirt as long as a dress, white except for some light blue stitching on the front. A tiny round charm with a C on it dangled from her thin gold necklace.

  He didn’t like her brown leggings, and he hoped she hadn’t paid much for her sandals because they were nothing but soles and a couple strips of leather. Even back in high school, she’d dressed sort of hippie. “Did you get the bakery you wanted?” he asked.

  She fiddled with the clasp on one of the bracelets she wore. “No, I didn’t.” The bracelet must be magnetic, because after she pulled the two ends apart, they snapped back together.

  “Why not?”

  “It was impractical.”

  “Impractical?”

  “It would have required a small-business loan and all my time. It might have failed. I didn’t want to take the risk.”

  “Really? You seemed so determined.”

  She looked at him for a long moment. “I had to grow up.”

  He scowled, remembering that her dream of owning her own bakery had been important to her once. She’d wanted to brew gourmet coffee, serve tea to peopl
e in silly little china cups, and bake muffins. Since she’d gotten such a raw deal from him, he’d hoped that she’d gotten what she wanted career-wise. “What are you doing now?”

  “I work at the university in cafeteria administration.”

  She was a cafeteria lady? Man, how depressing. “Have you lived in Corvallis all this time?”

  “Yes.”

  Celia had been one of those kids who’d moved every few years during childhood. He understood why she’d chosen a hometown and settled down. And he understood why she’d chosen Oregon. It suited her. It was natural and green and granola.

  His food arrived, and he took a bite of his FBLT. He didn’t like sissy health food. Not a bit. He believed in normal food, exercise, and hard work to stay in shape. “Since you asked, I still live in the greatest state in the country.”

  “Oh? You live in Oregon also?”

  He chuckled, then popped a few baked chips into his mouth. They tasted like stale paper. “Texas. You’ll never convince me that it’s not the greatest state, sweet one.”

  She stiffened at his use of the old nickname.

  He hadn’t meant to say it. It had just come out. He chewed, watching her. Long before he’d liked Celia romantically, he’d simply liked her. Back in high school she’d been a sweet, spunky, quick-witted girl. In Vegas, she’d been those things plus grown up and sexy as all get-out.

  Neither the high school Celia nor the Vegas Celia was sitting across from him now. This Celia hated him and to have any woman hate him went against Ty’s grain. Especially Celia. There was something about her . . . something that got under his skin and made his chest hurt, even after all these years. “How come you use my last name?”

  Her face blanked.

  “When I found you on the Internet,” he explained, “it listed you as Celia Park Porter.”

  He couldn’t see her hands because she held them beneath the table, but he could hear her fussing with her bracelet again. Click. Unclick. Click. Unclick. “I was married, so I used my married name.” She shrugged uncomfortably.

  He still remembered every detail of waking up in that hotel room bed with her against him. Her head had rested on his shoulder, her palm on his chest. As he’d looked down at her in the dim light, the realization of what he’d done had settled over him like a thousand-pound weight. He’d slid out of bed, showered, and stood at that blasted hotel window, watching cars crawl along the strip for what seemed like hours, freaking out inside his mind while Celia slept.

  He’d never been a saint. Of the Porter brothers, Bo and Jake had been the good ones, and he’d been the hell-raiser. Even so, Ty had always viewed himself as mostly honorable. Not the same gold and shiny level of honor that his grandfathers and father had earned, but mostly honorable.

  When he’d stood at the window that morning in Vegas, he’d known that he’d betrayed the trust of two women and turned whatever honor he’d had to darkest black.

  He pushed his plate of food to the side, no longer hungry. Slowly, so he wouldn’t frighten her, he reached across the table for Celia’s sunglasses. She moved to stop him, then stilled, apparently deciding it wasn’t worth a wrestling match. He slipped them off and set them aside. She met his gaze, her expression troubled.

  Those eyes. Pretty and almond shaped, green, surrounded by thick brown lashes.

  “I’m sorry about what happened in Vegas, Celia.”

  “Is that why you came all this way?”

  He nodded. “Before our divorce is final, I needed to say that to you in person.”

  “Okay. I’ve heard you.” Celia made a show of checking the time. “Now I’d really better go. I have an appointment.”

  Fresh regret sank into him like a sharp-tipped dart.

  She rose to her feet.

  He rose to his. “Good-bye.”

  She dipped her chin, then turned and walked away from him, her slim legs moving quickly.

  He lowered to his chair and watched her climb into an old woodie car, the kind surfers drove in California. She reversed and took off.

  “Excuse me.” A female voice.

  He looked toward the three friends sitting at the next table. College girls? None could have been older than twenty.

  “If that woman wants to divorce you, then she’s crazy,” the tallest one said, her eyes round.

  “Nuts,” the shortest one agreed.

  “You can come out with us tonight,” the third offered. “Have some fun.”

  “I’d like that,” Ty answered, “but I’m just visiting. I’m leaving soon.”

  Their faces fell.

  He smiled at them. “Thank you, though.”

  “You’re welcome,” they replied simultaneously.

  “Oh, shoot.” Their waitress walked up to the table. “Has she left already?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I wanted to invite her to the Memorial Day barbecue we’re having at River Run.” She placed a hand on her chest. “I’m the social coordinator for the apartment complex where we both live.”

  “I see.”

  She looked him up and down. “You’re welcome to come to the barbecue if you’d like.”

  He’d been asked out twice in twenty seconds. “Thanks, but I won’t be in town that long.”

  “Oh, okay. Sure.”

  He asked for the check. She pulled it from her apron and moved away.

  Ty stared without seeing at the place where Celia’s car had disappeared, remembering how furious he’d been with Tawny when he’d made that doomed trip to Vegas. Later, he’d realized that some part of him must have wanted to ruin his relationship with Tawny. And that’s why he had. As soon as he’d ruined it, though, he’d been sorry. Sorry, too, that he’d used Celia to do it.

  He’d never intended to marry or sleep with Celia or for her to find out about Tawny. He’d just intended for them to have fun together in Vegas for a few days, then go their separate ways. End of story. But that’s the thing about bad decisions—they had the power to take you farther than you’d planned to go. The chemistry between him and Celia had been way more powerful than he’d banked on, he’d acted like an idiot, and Celia had ended up married to a no-good man in love with someone else.

  Pieces of conversations from the tables around him and the sound of plates being stacked filled the air.

  He’d told Celia earlier that he hadn’t filed for divorce because he hadn’t had a reason. The truth? He’d had a reason not to file. He’d rather be shot, though, than admit his reason out loud—

  Something on the ground caught his eye. He squinted and leaned over. A gold bracelet. Celia’s bracelet with the magnetic clasp. In all that toying with it, she must have undone it.

  He picked it up and sat for a good while. Gradually, a smile overtook his mouth. Celia hadn’t intended to—and would probably be mad if she knew—but she’d just given him an opportunity to do her a small favor.

  She’d given him a chance to return her bracelet.

  And to see her one last time.

  Chapter Five

  The River Run Apartments didn’t look like much.

  Ty sat in his truck the morning after his lunch with Celia, eying the place. The whole complex was made up of connected one-story units. Gray siding and blue doors. The property didn’t look run-down or dirty, just boring. Its best feature was its nearness to the river, which cut through the land a hundred or so yards behind the complex. Green space and trees surrounded River Run’s other three sides. To get here, he’d turned off what passed for a main street in Corvallis, then taken a long driveway to the visitors’ parking lot.

  Celia’s woodie car was nowhere in sight, so he figured she was away. He’d decided to wait for her return.

  He leaned back in the driver’s seat and extended his arm against the door, letting his wrist drop out the open window. His fingertips tapped against the truck’s exterior. It had rained earlier, and now everything was damp and cool, with just enough sunlight to turn the puddles shiny. He’d seen lots of cars,
birds, dog walkers, and bike riders this Sunday morning—

  Wait. Was that Celia? He leaned forward, squinting. The woman walking toward him on the sidewalk was wearing a loose pink sweater over a white tank top and jeans, something Celia would wear. Brown curls. The right build. He’d expected her to drive onto the property, but here she came on foot. Strange. Where was her car? And why did she have a child with her?

  Celia was holding hands with a little girl. They had on matching pairs of purple rain boots with pink polka dots on them.

  Ty exited his truck and made his way in their direction. Was the kid a friend’s child? A niece? Maybe Celia’s “little sister” in one of those charity programs?

  When Ty was about ten steps away, Celia glanced in his direction. She immediately pulled the girl to a stop.

  “Good morning.” He crossed the remaining distance.

  “Good morning,” the girl answered. When Celia said nothing, the girl looked up at her with confusion.

  Celia stared at him, her face going completely white.

  “What’s the matter?” Ty asked. “You all right?”

  “I’m fine. I . . .” She leaned toward the girl. “I just realized that I left . . . my umbrella behind. Would you mind running back and getting it? I’ll be right behind you.”

  “The door’s locked.”

  “Here.” Celia pulled a ring of keys from her pocket and pressed them into the girl’s hand.

  The kid shook her head.

  “It’s okay.” Celia faced the girl in the direction of the apartments and gave her a gentle push.

  The kid turned back toward her. “You don’t let me unlock the door by myself.”

  “This time I will.”

  “I don’t want to go.” She stuffed the keys into Celia’s jeans and wrapped her arms around Celia’s thigh. She had on a pair of light blue glasses. Colors striped her long-sleeved dress and her pants.

  Celia’s attention remained on the child for a few long seconds, then slowly lifted to his face. She looked like someone who wanted to beat the daylights out of him but felt the need to pretend politeness in front of the kid. “I’m surprised to see you here, Ty. I thought we’d said good-bye yesterday.”