Page 64 of The Heartbreaker Next Door

Dinner started out like a slow-motion car accident. Tanner did most of the talking about how he was planning on settling in town for “for as long as it takes,” how he was excited to have his family back, how he’d landed a gig with an old friend flipping houses.

He peppered in jokes, made nostalgic references to Felicity’s “famous lasagna phase,” and told a story about the time they tried to build a treehouse and he nailed his hand to the ladder. Felicity kept up, barely, with practiced smiles and derailing personal questions, giving him the absolute bare minimum.

If Tanner noticed my silence, he took it as a challenge. Although I had a feeling he interpreted most things that way. “So, Dean, you work up at the ranch, right? That’s a family thing?”

I nodded.

He raised an eyebrow, as if this was deeply impressive. “Must be nice to be handed a business without having to work for it. You ever wonder what you’d do if you weren’t born into it?”

It was obvious he was trying to bait me, but I was not biting. He could say whatever he wanted, I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

“Nope.” I shook my head.

Despite knowing Tanner’s intentions, I still found myself feeling defensive. I’d sacrificed a lot, including not continuing my post grad education, for the family. I always put them first.

He nodded like he understood, but then he pivoted, quickly. “Felly says you’ve been a big help to her since she moved here. You have a habit of playing white knight and riding in on your horse to save the day.” He smiled at her with a kind of familiarity that felt invasive, like he thought he could just waltz into her life and pick up where he’d left off.

“Felicity doesn’t need saving,” I stated pointedly. “She runs circles around everyone.”

“Is that right?” Tanner glanced between us.

I was careful to keep my face neutral. But something about the way Tanner watched us—watched her—got under my skin. He was all surface charm, but there was a calculation behind his eyes you could spot if you knew what to look for.

Maverick excused himself and ran to the bathroom. Tanner took that opportunity to lean closer to me, in a show of intimidation. I’d seen bullies at school use the same tactic. Never was a big fan of people who were so insecure they took out their lack of confidence on others, especially those they were supposed to care about, protect and love.

“You don’t say much, do you, big man?”

Felicity set her fork down, the utensil clattered on the plate. “Dean talks when he has something important to say. You should try it sometime.”

Tanner laughed, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m here for Maverick, and for whatever it takes to get our family back on track. You have anything to say to that?”

I held his gaze. This guy was a cocky prick, and more than anything, I wanted to introduce my knuckles to his jaw, but I knew that wasn’t the right thing to do. Dawson’s words came back to me, which had been my own sentiment just moments before. Felicity could handle her ex, and if she couldn’t, she’d let me know.

“Nope. It’s none of my business.”

Felicity’s voice was calm, but her hands shook as she picked up her glass. “I’ve already made it clear, our relationship is over, Tanner. The only reason I’m allowing you to breathe the same air as me is for Mav’s sake.”

Damn, Felicity really could handle things on her own.

Tanner didn’t let Felicity’s comment dissuade him. He stared at her and grinned. “I know I have a lot of making up to do.”

I wanted to grab the guy by his collar and kick his ass out the door. Instead, I sat calmly and waited for Maverick to return. When he did, the conversation shifted to safe territory—dinosaurs, horses, Star Wars, and Marvel Superheroes. Tanner tried to insert himself, sharing stories about the things he and Felicity used to do, the life they used to have. Maverick took it all in, but he only laughed at my jokes. I tried not to notice, but Felicity’s relief was palpable every time I said something to steer the subject away from the past.

After dinner, while Tanner was tucking Maverick into bed, Felicity hovered at the sink, rinsing off plates. I leaned against the fridge, arms folded, and bit my tongue, keeping my opinions to myself.

The sounds from the kid’s room were loud enough to follow word-for-word, Tanner’s exaggerated cowboy accent, Maverick’s delighted giggles, the rhythmic creak of bedsprings as the world’s most enthusiastic four-year-old bounced and bellowed, “Giddyup, Dad!”

I forced myself to focus on Felicity’s silhouette instead, the way she braced herself in the kitchen’s ambient glow, the way her shoulders seemed to fight for an upright position.

“Sorry about all of this,” she said at last, her voice pitched low enough not to reach the living room. “I didn’t know he was coming. By the time I opened the door, Mav was already halfway through his monologue about how his dad was finally here and also probably moving into town for forever.” She shook her head, lips pressed thin. “He’s always been like this, you know? Just…shows up. Like a surprise party you didn’t ask for. And somehow Mav loves him for it.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

She didn’t have to say more, I’d seen the cycle in action enough times to recognize the brand of disappointment a man like Tanner could carve out of a person. Still, she kept talking, her hand worrying at a water spot on a glass as if she could rub history away with enough effort. “He’s not a bad person, just…unreliable. He wants to be better. Says he’s getting his act together, for Mav’s sake. But I can’t…not after everything. Not again. I don’t believe anything that comes out of his mouth, but I just want to do what’s best for Mav.”

I nodded, but something cold and heavy pressed on my chest. “You don’t owe me an explanation.”

She stepped closer, voice urgent now. “But I want to give you one, because you matter.” She looked at me, almost pleading. “Don’t let him get to you. He’s just…Tanner. He can’t help himself. It’s genetic.”