Chasing Honor (The Next Generation Book 2) Read online

  “Daddy? Can we go over to Gran’s? I want to go swimming.” Carson asked as I walked us in the front door.

  I hated having to tell her no, but the last thing I wanted to do was go to my parents’. My mom would complain I looked tired, and, truthfully, I knew she meant well, but I didn’t want to hear it. She’d be happy if Carson and I moved back into their basement where she could continue to take care of us both.

  “No, Squirt. Someone is coming over to look at the room we’re renting out. But you’re going over tomorrow, remember?”

  “I hope this one’s not creepy like the other ones.”

  I looked down at Carson and smiled at her scrunched-up face.

  “Me, too.”

  Shit, maybe my mom was right. Renting one of my extra rooms out seemed like it was a good answer. But after the last two guys that’d come over, I wasn’t so sure. And the only woman that had answered my ad wasn’t much better. She’d been polite and nice to Carson but when she’d swung her eyes in my direction, she hadn’t tried to hide that she liked what she saw. That was never going to happen; she had trouble written all over her.

  “Why were you mad at the lady at the park?”

  My gut twisted remembering what a dick I’d been. A bad week coupled with the always present fear Chrissy would try and pop back into our lives had me overreacting. It wasn’t an excuse for my behavior, but when I saw the woman taking Carson’s picture my imagination went into overdrive. I hadn’t seen or heard from Chrissy since the day I’d been wheeled out of the hospital room with Carson tucked close. She’d done what she’d said she was going to do and had completely disappeared. But the what ifs plagued me.

  “I wasn’t mad. I was concerned because a stranger was taking your picture.”

  “Why, because it’s not safe?”

  “Yes, because it’s not safe,” I repeated.

  There was a knock on the door, and I checked my watch. Right on time.

  “Run upstairs and play in your room.”

  She was half way up the stairs when she yelled down, “Can I watch TV in your room?”

  “Yes,” I answered.

  I opened the door and had to blink a few times before I understood what I was seeing. What the fuck? The photographer from the park was standing on my door step. Her smile faded, and she glanced from side to side before she looked back to me and cocked her head to side. Confusion marred her pretty face. My eyes narrowed as I wondered if she’d followed us home.

  “You following me?”

  “I must have the wrong address.”

  We both spoke at the same time.

  Talking over each other again we both asked, “What?”

  I gestured for her to go first.

  “I said, I must have the wrong address. Sorry to have bothered you.”

  “What address are you looking for?” She rattled off my address, making me even more concerned she knew where I lived. “A friend’s house?”

  “No.”

  “Then why are you looking for that address?”

  She placed her hand on her hip, much like my mom did when she was annoyed with my dad, and looked me over from top to toe.

  “I’m sorry, but that’s none of your business,” she said.

  “Come again?”

  “You heard me. I’m not telling a stranger why I’m doing anything. For all I know you’re a crazy person. Sorry to have bothered you—again. I’ll go check the address.”

  I wondered if she was the woman coming to look at the room. The timing was right.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Hello. Did you miss the part about you being a stranger and me not telling you anything?”

  Something strange ticked inside of me. My dad would call it instinct, my mom would call it an aha moment. Whichever you called it, I suddenly understood what my father had been saying all these years. There was something sexy as fuck about this woman throwing me attitude. The cop in me was kind of proud she wasn’t divulging any personal information. But the impulsive man in me wanted to yank her close and kiss the sass right off her tongue.

  “Honor?” I asked.

  She rocked back on her feet, and her green eyes sparked to life.

  “How do you know my name?”

  “A wild guess,” I teased.

  “Right. Because Honor is the first thing that pops into most people heads when they try and guess a name. Now if you’d said Mary or Donna or something as equally common, I might believe it was a wild guess.”

  “I bet you’re looking for a room to rent.”

  It was fascinating what her face gave away. She wore her emotions boldly.

  “Ethan?”

  “That’s me,” I confirmed. “Would you like to come in and look around?”

  I held the door open and stepped aside. She stood there, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, then suddenly nodded as if she were having some sort of internal discussion.

  “I’d like that,” she mumbled and crossed the threshold, taking in the large, open downstairs.

  The house was too much for Carson and me, but it had been a foreclosure, and my dad and uncles had helped me fix it up.

  “This is nice.”

  “Thanks. Around here is the kitchen.” I led her farther into the room and around the corner into the breakfast nook.

  “Now, this is amazing.”

  The kitchen was a housewarming present from my family; all of them, my aunts and uncles had pitched in too. My Aunt Emily had insisted the kitchen was the soul of a home and it should be the best room in the house. They’d gone all out with top-of-the-line appliances. Too bad I was a shitty cook.

  “Through there is the laundry room and garage.”

  I turned and walked to the other side of the house and opened the door to the downstairs bed room.

  “This is the room. It is a modified mother-in-law-suite. It has a private entrance going to the side yard and a private bathroom. You’ll have to share the kitchen and laundry.”

  “May I?” She asked motioning to the door.

  “Yeah. Take your time. I’ll be out here.”

  She walked into the room, and I went back to the kitchen. For some reason I hoped she liked it and wanted to move in. I kept telling myself it was because I was too tired to keep showing the room and if I wanted Carson to have both cheer camp and dance, I needed the money. But that wasn’t the entire truth. I could scrape by and give my daughter want she wanted without renting the room, and as lazy as I was, I’d wait until I found the right renter. There was just something about Honor that made me want her to move in. Which was crazy because the first time we’d exchanged words I was a dick to her, and this time she’d been in my house just a little over ten minutes.

  “Um. The ad said four hundred a month, utilities included. Is that right?” she asked once again looking around the house.

  “Yep.”

  “What’s the catch?”

  “The catch?” I questioned, not understanding where she was going.

  “Four hundred a month for this house is a steal. Do you have other roommates? Throw wild sex parties. Drink too much?”

  “No, no, and no. It’s just Carson and me.”

  “Carson?”

  “My daughter.” I could see she had questions and before she could ask I continued. “There are a few rules. No boyfriends spend the night without me meeting and approving of them first. Always set the alarm when you leave. And clean up the kitchen after you use it.”

  “Boyfriends?” she huffed.

  “Or girlfriends. Whatever floats your boat. My daughter lives here. All I ask is that you respect that and understand her safety is all that’s important to me.”

  That was true, but I’d made up the boyfriend part on the fly. Partly to see if she had a boyfriend and because the thought of seeing Honor with a man made my fists clench.

  “I work from home. Is that going to be a problem for you?”

  “You’re a photographer, right?”

&n
bsp; “Yeah. I sell fine art still images. But I’m also a graphic artist.”

  “Daddy?” Carson called from the top of the stairs.

  “Yeah, Squirt?”

  “Can I come down and get a drink?”

  “Sure.”

  Carson came bouncing down the stairs but stopped short when she saw Honor standing in the living room. She looked between the two of us then her gaze settled on me.

  “It’s okay. Come meet Honor.”

  Carson’s nose scrunched. “That’s a funny name.”

  “Carson Rose. That’s not polite.” I scolded.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled.

  “It is funny, isn’t it? My momma named me Honor because my dad was in the Army. He was actually on deployment when I was born and didn’t get to meet me until I was six months old,” Honor explained.

  “My pop was in the Army,” Carson beamed.

  “That’s cool.”

  “Yeah. He retired. Now he just takes me fishing and plays football with me and helps me with my back-walk-overs.”

  “He sounds like a great pop. You’re pretty lucky.”

  “I am. My pop says I’m the luckiest girl in the world because I have so many people who love me. But who couldn’t help but love me?” Carson cocked her head to the side and batted her eyelashes. “Did it work? Gran says I need to work on it some more. But soon I’ll be good enough Daddy won’t be able to tell me no.”

  “Is that so?” I chuckled. “Gran’s teaching you bad habits.”

  “She’s allowed. She says it’s her right.”

  Honor laughed at Carson’s antics, then a sadness settled over her features.

  “Thought you wanted something to drink?” I reminded Carson, wanting to change the subject.

  “Oh, right.” She skipped to the kitchen before turning to Honor. “Are you going to rent the room?”

  “I’m talking to your dad about it. Would that be all right with you?”

  I may’ve swayed on my feet with the effort of picking my jaw off the floor. I couldn’t believe Honor would think to ask Carson her opinion.

  “You seem nice. But Daddy says—”

  “Carson!” I stopped her before she could say something that offended Honor.

  “Will you teach me how to take pictures?”

  “Of course I will.” Honor beamed. “I mean if your dad and I talk, and I rent the room.”

  “Cool.”

  “I take it you like the room?” I asked.

  “I do. It’s perfect. So much better than the motel I’m staying in.”

  Honor was laughing. I, however, was not. Different scenarios ran through my head about what could happen to a single woman living in a motel—all of them bad.

  “Why are you living in a motel?”

  She tugged at the hem of her shirt and diverted her eyes, the hair on the back of my neck prickled, and I knew she was getting ready to lie to me. Was she in some sort of trouble? And if she was, did I want to help?

  “I moved here from Atlanta and didn’t have a place lined up. I’m staying at the motel while I look around.”

  Hmm. A partial truth, but she’d omitted why she’d left Atlanta. My instincts were screaming at me that she was hiding something.

  “What motel?”

  She was quiet for a moment while she contemplated my question. Surely, she wasn’t going to tell me I was a stranger again and not tell me.

  “West End.”

  “The fuck?”

  “What?” She looked around the room unaware it was her answer that had garnered the curse.

  “That place is dangerous, Honor. I get called there at least once a week for a domestic disturbance.”

  “Yeah. It can get loud. But I don’t leave my room after dark, so I don’t mind.”

  Hell. To. The. No. Honor was not staying at the motel one more night. Fuck the background check, her ass would be in this house by nightfall. I checked my watch, seeing it was midafternoon. Depending on how many trips we needed to make, we could get her moved in before dark.

  “Squirt?”

  “Yeah, Daddy?”

  “Call Gran and ask her if you can go over and play for a few hours.”

  “She says, yes.”

  “You didn’t call.”.

  “I don’t need to. I know her answer. Gran says I’m welcome anytime, day or night and all the time between.”

  “Go get your bathing suit and towel. I’ll call Gran.”

  Carson ran upstairs, and Honor stood starring at me confused by the abrupt change of subject.

  I pulled my phone out and dialed my parents’ number.

  “Hello?” my dad answered.

  “Busy?”

  “Just got unbusy, whatcha got?”

  I made a gagging sound, understanding full well what my father was implying.

  “Something's come up. Would you mind, since you’re unbusy now, if I dropped Carson off for a few hours?”

  “You never have to ask,” he replied.

  “Yes, I do. You and mom are busy more than any two people I know. I’m still trying to recover from the time when I was thirteen and walked into the house and saw something no child ever wants to see. I’m avoiding the years of therapy for my daughter by calling first.”

  “You have a point, son. If you had a woman as—”

  “Dad!” I cut him off.

  He chuckled before he asked, “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah. I need to help the woman who rented the room move her shit from the motel she’s staying in.”

  “Which motel? You need backup?”

  And just like that, with no questions asked, my dad had my back. Just like when I was sixteen, and every day before and after that. He was there, pushing me forward, carrying the load when I thought I couldn’t, and walking beside me as my best friend.

  If I turned out to be half the man, half the father, he is, I’ll have walked this life a good man.

  4

  What was happening? Why was Ethan making plans for Carson to go to his parents’ house and for him to move my stuff?

  Ethan was smiling when he hung up and put his phone back in his pocket.

  “You good with the rent?” he asked.

  “Yeah.” I drew out the word still unsure what was going on.

  “Great. There’s only a week left in this month. Call it a move in special, first month’s rent due on the first.”

  “What’s happening, Ethan?”

  “We’re going to grab your stuff,” he told me as if we’d already agreed I’d move in.

  “And why are we doing that? I can manage on my own. I only have a few suitcases.”

  “Great, then we only need to take the Tahoe and make one trip. Wait, what about a bed and furniture? Do you have a storage unit or something?”

  My face burned with embarrassment. I didn’t want to admit I’d left my stepfather’s house with just my clothes, camera gear, laptop, and what I’d salvaged of my mother’s before Frank had banished all memories of her from his house.

  “I’m going to buy new stuff.” That was the truth, but the fact I was neglecting to tell him the rest didn’t sit well. It shouldn’t have mattered, he was no one to me, however I was overcome by an unsettling feeling, reminding me I was returning his kindness with lies. But I’d rather die a thousand deaths than tell Ethan the real reason for abandoning my old life: the disgusting plan Frank had come up with. No, that was a secret I’d rather keep to myself.

  “I have a bed in the garage you can have,” he offered.

  “That’s nice, but, no, thank you.” His suggestion felt a lot like charity, something I didn’t want. I moved away from Atlanta to learn to be on my own. A new start, a new life. I didn’t ever want to depend on anyone again. I had to stand on my own two feet.

  “Really, my Aunt Regan gave it to me when they remodeled one of their rooms. It was a guest bed, I don’t think anyone’s ever slept on it, and it’s sitting in the garage collecting dust.”

  “I sa
id, no, thank you. I’ll buy something.”

  His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t argue.

  “Ready, Daddy. Are we leaving now?” Carson came down the stairs, interrupting our conversation.

  “We sure are.” Ethan looked at me with a raised eyebrow, almost daring me to argue with him in front of Carson. The thought crossed my mind to put my foot down and tell him to butt out, but then Carson turned to me and flashed the cutest little girl smile I’d ever seen, and the irritation melted away. Her grandmother was right, she did have the sly, give-me-what-I-want look down pat. She was going to give Ethan a run for his money when she was a teenager. And on that glorious thought of cosmic payback I relented to let Ethan help me move my stuff.

  On the short drive to Ethan’s parents’ house Carson told me all about the “awesome pool” her grandparents had put in a few years ago. Now all her cousins, even though they are much older than her and are really Ethan’s cousins, her second cousins, liked to come over and swim too. She gave me a very thorough run down of the family tree. There we so many of them, I couldn’t remember all the names except Ethan’s older brother, Carter. Carson declared he was the best uncle of the bunch. He was in the Navy and lived in Virginia. Whenever he came home, he told her all about the places he’d been and always brought back foreign currency for her—she had quite the collection.

  Nowhere in the conversation had she mentioned her mother. Not even in the abstract or in the past tense. It was simply as if the woman who’d given birth to her never existed. I was sad for her, but the interesting part was, she didn’t seem upset or bothered by it. There were so many people around her who loved her she wasn’t missing anything. That was something I’d never had. After my dad died, it was just me and my mom for a long time. She had been all I’d needed, but listening to Carson tell me stories I realized there’s a big difference between need and want. I’d always wanted aunts and uncles and cousins—a family.