My Kind of You (Trillium Bay #1)

“She’s not just some woman, Ryan. She’s very special. And very beautiful. You’ll think so too when you meet her. Trust me.”


Ryan had nothing against older women, but he doubted he and his father used the same scale. Plus, there was the whole potentially a gold-digging bimbo aspect to all of this. “I’m sure she is, Dad, but the pieces still don’t fit. Why retire? Let’s start with that.”

“I want to retire because, first of all, I just want to. I’ve earned the break. And second, she’s lived here all her life and wants to travel, but I can’t travel and still be an active CEO of the company. You and your brothers are more than capable of running the company without me.”

Without him? “Dad, if she wants to travel, then take her on a vacation. Shoot, take the rest of the summer off if you want to, but don’t retire. You’re not thinking this through. It’s all very sudden.”

“I’m sure it seems that way to you because I haven’t talked to you boys about things much lately, but it’s been hard, you know? I didn’t want to burden anyone, but I’ve been having a tough time adjusting to your mother being gone.”

Ryan’s chest tightened. “That’s no secret, Dad. We knew that, and we know it now, so what do you need from us support-wise? Because you know we’ll give it.”

“Then support me in this. I’m going to retire and buy a place on this island.” Tag sat up a little straighter in his seat, almost defiantly, as if he, too, was just coming to grips with the reality of what he wanted.

Where did support end and enabling begin? The line here seemed razor-thin. “Yeah, okay, anything but that, Dad. It’s too extreme. Like I said, take a vacation. Buy a little place here and come back anytime you want. Go buy yourself a damn airplane if that will make you happy, but you’re too young to retire. The company does need you, plus you’ll go stir-crazy inside of a month. I know you will.” Ryan was already getting twitchy, and he’d only been here an hour. Maybe it was all the pink. Or the fact that his father had completely lost his marbles.

His father’s smile was somehow both patient and patronizing. “I won’t go stir-crazy. I’ve been here for a full month, and I’m not the least bit bored. When I’m not working, I’m busy all the time. Do you know what I do? I hike. I swim. I kayak. I watch birds. Not sissy birds like chickadees and shit like that. The big ones, like hawks and eagles. The majestic ones.”

Bird-watching? His father was bird-watching? “You can’t watch birds full time, Dad. That’s something you do for an afternoon when there is literally nothing else to do and someone is holding a gun to your head. It’s not an occupation.”

His father chuckled, as if he enjoyed the process of convincing Ryan of all the reasons he should throw away his career for some island floozy. “Of course it’s not an occupation. That’s sort of the point. It’s a hobby, and they are beautiful creatures. What I’m trying to say is that I’ve been getting regular exercise since I came here, and I feel better physically than I have in years. I sleep great. Up with the sun. I’m regular.” Tag patted his chest with pride, as if predictable bowel movements were a real victory.

The more his dad smiled, the more frustrated Ryan became. Was this a joke? Was Bryce behind it? Because that’s the kind of thing his brother would do. Let’s send Ryan on some wild-goose chase to some Podunk island and tell him crazy shit until he figures out it’s a hoax. Being the youngest of three brothers, Ryan was a constant target of their pranks, but as near as he could tell, his dad’s story was . . . legit.

“I’m glad you’re feeling good, Dad. Really, and I’m sure there are some great bird sanctuaries in California for you to check out and some awesome places to do that other stuff, too. You don’t need to move here for that.”

His dad went on blithely as if Ryan hadn’t even spoken.

“Did I mention I even go biking? Can you picture it? Me on a bike?”

“No, I cannot.”

“Me neither, until I tried it. Turns out it really is just like riding a bike.” He chuckled at his own joke. Ryan did not.

“Guess what else I do.”

Those pancakes were flipping themselves in Ryan’s stomach as he recognized the dare in his father’s voice. His father was challenging him to ask. Ryan gave in with one big sigh. “What else do you do, Dad?”

Tag leaned back in his seat and stretched one long arm across the back of it. His chin lifted defiantly. “I square-dance.”

Ryan sat motionless, waiting for the punch line. Surely there was a punch line. None arrived. “Square-dance?” he finally choked out.

“Yep. That’s where I met her. Every Wednesday evening down at Saint Bartholomew’s Catholic Church they have square dancing. She was there the first night when I arrived on the island, and we’ve gone back a couple of times since.” He leaned forward and put his elbow on the table, as if to fully capture Ryan’s attention. As if he hadn’t already. “The truth is, son . . . I like to do-si-do. I like to promenade. Sometimes I allemande left. Sometimes I allemande right. What are you gonna do about that? Huh?”

Ryan fell back in his seat. “What the fuck has happened to you?”

Tag burst out laughing. “Call me crazy if you want to, but it’s true. I’m having fun. I’m relaxed. I’m pretty sure I’ve fallen in love, and I’m not interested in apologizing for it, or trying to analyze it, or even worrying if people think I’m a silly old man.”

His father was in love? After a month? That stirred up a ruckus in Ryan’s gut for sure, but he wasn’t certain if it was due to the speed at which this relationship seemed to be traveling, or because it felt like a betrayal of his mother. He’d have to figure that out later. “No one wants you to apologize, Dad. We’re not going to judge you.” None of that was actually true. He and his brothers would totally judge him because he was talking like a lunatic, but it wouldn’t be prudent for Ryan to pick a fight with his dad in the middle of this little pink, pig-filled diner. His best bet was to handle this like he would handle a dense client. Slow and steady breaths. Voice calm. “But put yourself in my shoes, Dad, and tell me how you think it looks. I’ve never known you to take a vacation or even a sick day, and all of a sudden you’re ready to give up your job as president and CEO of the company you founded for some woman you just met. Just so you can travel and . . . and square-dance? Don’t you see how that’s a little drastic?”

Tag knew the ploy and responded in kind, with the same calm, slow manner. It was irritating. “You’re answering your own question, Ryan, and you’re exactly right. I never took a vacation. I never took a sick day. I worked my ass off and pulled you boys in to work with me just so I’d have time to see you. God bless your mother for putting up with my schedule. I wish I’d figured this out when she was still alive. I would have taken her on that trip to Europe that she always wanted.”