Page 99 of Falling for the Playboy Pilot

35

DALTON

Istared at Janna lurking in the trees like some kind of amateur detective. I didn’t know whether to be pissed or impressed by her complete lack of stealth skills. What the hell was she thinking, following me here? And then it hit me like a punch to the gut.

She thought I was sneaking around with another woman.

The realization made my jaw clench harder. I could see it written all over her face. The guilt, the embarrassment, the hurt she was trying to hide. She’d seen me with Tanya, seen the flowers and the bottle, and jumped to the worst possible conclusion.

I wanted to be mad about it. I wanted to tear into her for not trusting me, for following me like some jealous girlfriend when she’d been the one to sneak out of my bed this morning without a word. But looking at her standing there, red-faced and mortified, I couldn’t summon the anger I should have felt.

Because I got it. I understood why she’d think the worst. My track record wasn’t exactly stellar, and I’d never given her any reason to believe I was different with her.

“Come here,” I said.

“I don’t want to intrude,” she said.

I scoffed. “Little late for that. Come here.”

She hesitated for a moment, her eyes darting between me and Tanya, who was still kneeling by the headstone. Then she walked toward me, her steps slow and uncertain.

“I was just⁠—”

“Don’t,” I said and cut her off. “We’ll talk about that later. Come with me.”

Tanya smiled when she saw us coming back.

“This is Tanya,” I said. “She’s Ozzy Martinez’s sister.”

Janna frowned. I could see the question in her eyes.

“Hi,” Tanya said softly, offering a small, sad smile. “You must be Janna.”

Janna seemed to have swallowed her tongue all of a sudden. “Martinez,” she said. “Your friend.”

I nodded. “We come here every year on the anniversary of losing him.”

I saw her embarrassment. Served her right for sneaking around. I knew she was remembering the story I told her. I watched her face change as understanding dawned on her.

“He was my brother’s best friend,” Tanya said, her voice thick with emotion. “Like a brother to me too. Dalton and I both lost him that day.”

I knelt beside the headstone, running my fingers over the engraved name. Oscar “Ozzy” Martinez. The dates that bookended a life cut too short. The bottle of whiskey was his favorite brand. It was a little stout for me, but he loved it.

“Every year, we come here and tell him about our lives,” I said. “What we’ve been up to. What’s changed. What hasn’t changed.”

Tanya reached over and squeezed my shoulder. “He’d be so proud of you, Dalton. You know that, right? What you’re doing now is what he would have wanted.”

I shook my head. “He shouldn’t have died. I should have gotten him out.”

“Stop,” Tanya said firmly. “You know he wouldn’t want you carrying this guilt. He’d kick your ass for still blaming yourself. You guys both knew the risks of that job.”

I could feel Janna’s eyes on me, could practically hear the wheels turning in her head. This was exactly why I didn’t let people get close. This was the shit that came with caring about someone—the pain when you lost them, the guilt that ate at you from the inside out.

“I’m sorry,” Janna said softly. “I wish I could have met him.”

“You would have liked him,” I said. “Funny as hell, loyal to a fault. Would give you the shirt off his back without thinking twice. He always found a reason to laugh even when we were deep in the shit.”

Tanya’s eyes filled with tears. “Maria still visits sometimes. She moved to Phoenix, but she comes back every few months.”