Taking a Shot
Page 28

“Tyler. How nice to see you again,” her mom said.
“Mrs. Riley. I brought these for you.”
“Suck-up,” Liz whispered.
Tyler turned to her and winked.
“Oh, they’re beautiful. Thank you. And call me Kathleen.” She went up to Ty and placed her hands on his face, then kissed his cheek. “Why don’t you reach up above the cabinets and grab that vase for me.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He got the vase and her mother filled it with water.
“I’ll arrange them for you, Mom,” Tara said, taking over for her.
“Tyler, why don’t you go on into the living room with the guys. We’ll be eating in a little while.”
He looked at Jenna, who nodded. Then he shocked the hell out of her by leaning over and brushing his lips across hers.
“See you in a bit,” he whispered against her lips before disappearing.
“Well.” Her mother crossed her arms, wooden spoon in hand. “Just seeing each other, huh? No big deal, huh?”
“I don’t know about the rest of you, but it just got a little warmer in here,” Tara said.
“Told you so.” Liz planted a smug smile on her face.
Jenna looked at all of them and shrugged. “Okay, maybe it’s a little more than that.”
“Oh, it’s a lot more than that,” her mother said.
“I’ll say. You nearly swooned right off the stool when he kissed you,” Tara said, fanning herself with a napkin. “And the rest of us were swooning right along with you.”
Liz narrowed her gaze at Jenna. “You’re in love with him.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Why the denial, Jenna? What are you running from?” Her mother came around the island and turned Jenna around to face her. “Is there some problem with the relationship? With Ty?”
She so didn’t want to have this conversation. Not now, and especially not with her mother. “There’s nothing wrong with the relationship, or with Ty. We’re just not in love.”
“De-ni-al,” Liz said, enunciating each syllable slowly. “Ty sure acts like he’s in love.”
“He does? How can you tell?”
“A man does not kiss a woman in front of that woman’s mother unless he has genuine, serious feelings for that woman,” Tara said.
Liz nodded. “Totally.”
Jenna’s gaze shifted to her mother, who was nodding right along with them. “I’d have to agree with the girls. That boy has it bad for you.”
She couldn’t help the little thrill that snaked its way through her nerve endings.
Ty, in love with her?
No. That was just something Mom, Tara, and Liz inferred from the kiss. It wasn’t true. He’d never said a word about love.
Then again, neither had she, because she wasn’t going to be in love with a hockey player.
When they’d fixed the snacks, Jenna took them into the living room. The guys were watching the race. Tyler was sitting on the sofa, his forearms on his knees, just as intent on the action on the screen as her dad, Mick, and Nathan.
“Number thirty-six looks good this year,” her dad said.
“No way,” Ty said. “Rumor has it he and his crew chief don’t get along well and the owner’s looking to make a change there. He’ll be lucky to make it the season in his car.”
Her dad glared at Ty. “Just because you’re one of those number forty-seven butt kissers doesn’t mean you know all, son.”
Tyler laughed at him. “Mark my words. He won’t make it half the season.”
“You’re both wrong,” Mick said. “The number fifteen is the car to beat this year.”
Jenna rolled her eyes. “Now, boys. Don’t fight. I brought snacks.” She laid them on the coffee table. Ty grabbed her hand and pulled her down next to him on the sofa.
Not one of the guys, including her father, made mention of the fact she and Ty were snuggled up together. No one even looked at them since they were all too absorbed in the race. Two hundred miles an hour was obviously way more exciting than Ty’s arm around her. Plus, they were guys. They didn’t care.
She was making entirely too big a deal out of this. She needed to relax.
It was spaghetti and meatballs night, one of her favorites. Mom had made homemade bread and as it baked the smell permeated the house. By the time dinner was ready, Jenna’s stomach was in full-on growl mode.
They gathered around the table and dug into the food, all conversation at a halt while everyone filled their plates and their mouths.
“So, Ty, the last time you were here it was when Gavin brought you,” her dad said. “And Liz is your agent. Now you’re here today as Jenna’s boyfriend.”
Oh, crap. Jenna paused, the fork midway to her mouth, and turned her gaze on Ty.
Way to put him on the spot, Dad. Where was he going with this?
Nowhere, obviously, since he didn’t continue his train of thought, leaving Ty to somehow formulate a response to her father’s non-question.
“Yeah. I’m really glad to be back. I missed Kathleen’s excellent cooking.”
Her dad beamed a wide grin. “Can my wife cook, or what? She’s amazing. Some of the great food you eat at Riley’s are Kathleen’s recipes.”
“Oh, Jimmy. You’ll make me blush.”
“Hey, it’s the truth.”
“I love the smothered steaks at Riley’s, Kathleen,” Ty said. “I eat that every time I’m there.”
She exhaled a sigh of relief. Ty didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the boyfriend comment.
Maybe it hadn’t. Maybe being called her boyfriend didn’t even register with him, or he blew it off as not meaning anything.
“You’re so sweet, Ty,” her mom said. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you. I don’t get home-cooked meals very often, so this is great.”
“Doesn’t Jenna cook for you?”
“She’s at work and I’m usually playing games late. But she’s cooked for me before.”
“I don’t cook,” Jenna said. “I come over here.”
“Well, if you two end up getting married or something, you’ll have to learn how.”
She cringed at her dad’s comment. “We’re not getting married, Dad. We’re just dating.”
Ty grabbed her hand, squeezed it. “Hey, I’m pretty good with a gas grill, so I don’t think we’ll starve.”
Her dad nodded. “Good to know. That girl stays way too busy. You’d think she’d have learned how to cook by now.”
Jenna gritted her teeth. So many things she wanted to blurt out, but she held her tongue. Her dad was a traditional guy in so many ways, though he didn’t mind her running the family bar nearly seven freakin’ days a week. If he ever bothered to come back and take it over, maybe she’d find some goddamned time to learn how to cook, or do any of the hundred other things she never had time to do.
Like get a life of her own.
She bent her head, guilt washing over her. Last year her father had nearly died of a heart attack. She had no business pointing imaginary fingers at him for his lack of duty to the bar. He could do whatever he wanted with his life. She was just damn glad he was still alive.
Ty patted her thigh under the table.
“You okay?”
She gave him a quick nod. “Fine.”
“How’s the bar, Jenna?” her mother asked.
She lifted her head, the smile plastered back on. “Doing great. Really busy almost every night of the week.”
“Weeknights, too?” her dad asked.
“Weeknights, too. With basketball and hockey, they keep the place hopping. It also doesn’t hurt that several of the Ice players have made Riley’s their home away from home.”
Her mom cast a warm smile Ty’s way. “We appreciate you coming to the bar. Our patrons love it when sports figures show up there.”
“Jenna does a great job with Riley’s. It’s a fun atmosphere, the food is amazing, and the people are friendly. The guys and me consider it home.”
“Good,” her dad said. “We hope you always feel that way. It’s always been home to Kathleen and me.”
“You should come up there sometime, Dad,” Jenna said. “Your regulars miss you.”
He shrugged. “Not as much fun as it used to be.”
“Because you can’t drink beer anymore,” her mother teased. “Which doesn’t mean you can’t still have fun with your old friends.”
“And you can drink the non-alcoholic beer,” Jenna reminded him. “Tastes like the real thing. I’d love to have you there. So would everyone else.”
“Maybe I’ll pop in one of these nights, make sure my girlie here is doing as good a job as I did.”
If this kept up she’d need dental work before the end of the night. Her jaw ached from clenching it.
After dinner and dishes everyone moved into the living room. Her mom picked up her knitting, and Tara and Liz huddled together working on something for Liz’s wedding, while the guys watched the rest of the race.
She and Ty were putting the rest of the pots and pans away in the kitchen.
“This would be a good time for you to mention expansion,” Ty said.
She handed a pot over to him. He was crouched on the floor, sliding them into the cabinet.
“What expansion?”
“Opening a new bar.”
“No. Not a good time for that at all.” It would never be a good time.
He took the last pot, stacked it with the others, then stood and leaned against the counter. “Why not?”
“You heard my dad. I’m not sure he even has confidence I’m running Riley’s the way he likes.”
Tyler chuckled. “That sounded more like good-natured teasing to me.”
She pulled up one of the stools and half sat on it. “You don’t know my dad. He may sound good-natured, but he’s fiercely protective of the bar. And he’s traditional. He’d never go for an expansion idea.”
“And you’ll never know that if you don’t discuss it with him. How’s the capital situation?”
“Plentiful.”
“Then put a business plan together and present it to him. It’s a good idea, Jenna, and one where you could capitalize on your natural talent.”
“You’re really pushing me on this. Why?”
“One, because I think your talent is being wasted on being a bartender. Two, because I think if you opened up a second bar, you could sing there, which would make you happier because you’d actually be doing something you love to do. Three, because it’s a sound business investment. You already know how to run a successful bar. I think you could make this work.”
Everything he said made sense. It was logical.
But she wasn’t going to do it. She shook her head and slid off the stool. “Too risky. Dad would never go for it.”
More important, she would never go for it.
She started out of the room, but he took her hands. “Then make him go for it. You’re the most argumentative woman I’ve ever known. You’re telling me you can’t stand up to your father? Go to him armed with a sound business plan and make him listen. Sing for your parents. Take them to the club we went to and show them how this could work.”
She jerked her hands away. “No. I’m not going to do this. Just because you think it’s a great idea doesn’t mean it’s something I want to do.”
“You’re afraid to take this step, just like you’re afraid to sing in front of your family.”
She glanced down the hall to make sure no one had heard. “I’m tired of having the same conversations with you. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
But Ty obviously wasn’t going to let this go. “At first I thought it was a fear of failure. Now I think you’re afraid to succeed.”
“That’s ridiculous. I just don’t think a second bar is a good idea.”
“Which has nothing to do with singing in front of your family. You’re afraid you’re going to be so good they’re going to want to hear you again. Or maybe they’ll get the idea you should do something with that spectacular voice of yours. And then you’ll be forced to step outside your comfort zone—this cocoon you’ve so carefully wrapped yourself in—and do something about being so unhappy.”
“What? Where is this coming from? I’m not unhappy.”
He stepped in closer. “Yeah, you are.”
She moved back. “No, I’m not, and you have a hell of a lot of nerve presuming to know how I feel. I’m perfectly content with the way things are. I was content before you came into it and I’ll be content after you’re gone.”
He arched a brow. “You trying to get rid of me, Jenna?”
“No. I don’t know. Stop pushing me. I don’t like it.”
“I’m trying to help you.”
“You’re not helping me. This isn’t what I want. And if you think it is, then you haven’t been listening all the times I’ve told you.”
He took a step back and raised his hands. “If that’s what you think, then I’ll back off.”
She nodded, but felt miserable, like an invisible wall had just been raised between them.
“I’m going into the living room so they don’t wonder what we’re talking about in here.”
“Fine.”