Free The Truth About Love by Sheila Athens Page A

try to help himself.
    His dad’s lips parted into a Wile E. Coyote grin, his tobacco-stained teeth yellow, even in the dim light. “Martin Vista.” His hand nervously smoothed his hair as soon as he’d released her grip.
    Her searching eyes met Landon’s. “Your father?”
    Years of memories cascaded through his mind. The time his kindergarten teacher wouldn’t release him to a drunken dad. The pitying whispers at his mother’s funeral, wondering why his dad wasn’t there for him, even though his parents had never married. The headline in the newspaper the time Martin had gotten banned from Landon’s high school football games for yelling obscenities at the opposing team.
    “You didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend.” His dad chuckled and slapped him on the back.
    “We met through our volleyball league.” She seemed to understand the strained relationship between the two of them. “I’m not his—”
    “What can I help you with, Dad?” It was a standard conversation opener for the two of them, but Gina frowned at him.
    “I stopped by to see if you’d thought about my . . . investment opportunity.”
    Investment opportunity? He hated his dad for trying to sound so important. It was a fucking bait shop. “I haven’t changed my mind.”
    “We’re meeting with the bank tomorrow.”
    He wondered how long it would take Gina to figure out his dad was drunk. Sure, her past wasn’t as pristine as he’d once thought it might be, but she still seemed rich and classy. Drunks in those families were called alcoholics. And they were still rich and classy. His dad would never be either. “I’m not doing the commercials.”
    “One afternoon of taping? You can’t spare that for your old man?”
    “I’ll let you two talk.” She tipped her head in Martin’s direction. “Pleasure meeting you.”
    The older man waggled his eyebrows at Landon once she’d gotten in her SUV and was backing up. “Ni-i-ce.”
    “Stop it.”
    “You don’t want to talk about her”—he motioned toward her SUV as she pulled away—“then let’s talk about my new business venture.”
    “Don’t mention my name when you’re out there talking to people about it.” He didn’t want to be associated with this.
    Martin’s eyes narrowed. “I wish I could remember the exact time you became too goddamn high and mighty for your own father.”
    “Good-bye.” Landon took a step up the sidewalk toward his front door, mad that his dad hadn’t asked about the Cyrus Alexander case. He didn’t want to talk to Martin about it, but it would have been nice for him to care enough to ask.
    “Don’t have time for me now that you got a sweet little squeeze like that around?”
    Landon returned to face his dad. Gina wasn’t his “squeeze,” but that wasn’t any of his dad’s business. “The invitation’s still open. Dinner and a ball game. Anytime you want to come over without some agenda.”
    Martin’s jaw twitched in the moonlight. He stared at his son for several seconds, then stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans and walked toward the street.
    Landon exhaled, trying to rid himself of the toxic tension that thrummed through his veins when his dad was around. This wasn’t at all how he’d wanted the night to go. Granted, the kiss with Gina had been fantastic. Better than fantastic.
    But what had he been thinking, kissing her back? And why had he felt so offended when she’d pulled away? To make things worse, he hadn’t been able to form a rational thought in her SUV—hadn’t tried to talk with her about Cyrus Alexander. Hadn’t emphasized the fact that the guy had lost all his appeals. He’d just sat there like some horny teenager, unable to talk when the head cheerleader was nearby.
    His cell phone rang in his pocket as he trudged to the fridge for a bottle of water.
    “You okay?” Gina asked without a greeting as soon as he answered. “I wasn’t sure if I should stay . . . or go . . . or what.”
    “Visits