Brody (12 page)

“I know, I just need a minute.”

She sprinted to the bathroom door, and I listened to the water running before the sound of the shower made me close my eyes. She was shutting me out, trying to wash away the remnants of what had just happened, But why? The Riley I knew would have cuddled up in my arms and talked about the wedding of her dreams until she fell asleep on my chest. She wouldn’t have run in the opposite direction at the first mention of our future.

As soon as she turned off the water, I slipped into my shorts and tapped on the bathroom door.

“Come in,” she said, sounding despondent.

I let the steam filter out of the room as I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms. “You want to tell me why you bailed when I told you I wanted to marry you?”

She looked into the foggy mirror, brushing her wet hair off her face while adjusting the towel secured between her breasts. “I just wasn’t expecting you to say that. It took me by surprise.”

Walking up behind her, I looked at our reflections. We were a sharp contrast and always had been. Her hair was light, her skin fair, while mine were dark. She was sweet and innocent, kind and good. She’d believed in happy endings until I’d convinced her otherwise. I’d seen so much pain, experienced so much fear and desperation. Without meaning to, I’d stolen her hope.

“I’m sorry.” I kissed her damp shoulder as our blue eyes met in the mirror.

“For what?” she asked, confusion drawing a line between her arched brows.

“For making you so cynical.”

“I don’t think I’m cynical.” She drew a heart on the mirror in the fading fog. “Am I?”

“You used to believe in me. In us. You don’t anymore. That’s my fault. I broke your trust, your faith in me.”

Riley looked as if she wanted to argue, but she eventually nodded. “You think we can get it back?” She drew a deep breath. “I want to, Brody. I can’t control the way I feel about you. I love you. I know I always will. But trusting that you’ll be there for me, that you’re really ready to be a husband and…”

I knew she was about to say father but couldn’t risk another disappointment. “I’m not trying to rush you,” I said, trying to put her mind at ease. “I know this must have come out of nowhere for you.”

“Yeah, I guess it did.” She linked her fingers with mine, bringing both to rest on her shoulder. “I gave up on the idea of a future with you a long time ago. Not because I wanted to, because I had to. For the sake of my sanity.”

“I get that. I do,” I said, turning her into my arms. “And I know that talk is cheap. It’ll take time, no doubt a long time, to prove to you that I’ve changed, or at least that I’m willing to try.” Seeing my father again had helped me to realize that maybe, just maybe, change was possible. If he could, anyone could, including me.

She wrapped her hands around my face. “I’m not asking you to be someone else. I love you for who you are. But I’m still not sure we’re compatible. How do I know you won’t get tired of being in one place and decide to hit the road again?”

I hadn’t said in so many words that I intended to give up gambling, but that’s what a life with Riley would entail. A few years ago, it would have felt like too big a sacrifice. Now it just felt like the next logical step. “I know we have a lot of things to figure out. I just want to know that you’re open to trying, that you want to make this work as much as I do.”

“Do you think I would have made love to you tonight if I didn’t want that?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “But when you mentioned marriage, all of my hopes and dreams, the ones I’ve suppressed for so long, came flooding back, and I got scared.”

This wasn’t the time to try to defend myself. It was time to listen to her, the way I should have years ago. “I can understand that.”

“There was a time,” she said, resting her hands on my chest, “when all I wanted was to be your wife, the mother of your children. I didn’t care where we lived or how much money we had, as long as we were together.”

She’d been so sweet, so naïve. Fresh out of college, she believed we could survive as newlyweds, working minimum-wage jobs until something better came along. I’d spent half my life watching my old man wait for a ship that never came in, so I’d set out to make my own fortune.

“Then you became obsessed with making money. It was all you thought about, all you talked about. When the money from gambling started rolling in, you were like a different person.”

I didn’t have the right to dispute her claim. I
had
been obsessed with making money, but not for the reasons she assumed. I’d wanted a better life for us. I didn’t start out caring about the big house, fancy cars, and flashy clothes. I’d just started acting and dressing a part, doing what the world expected of a guy in my tax bracket.

Then one day I looked in the mirror and saw someone I didn’t recognize. He was wearing a two-thousand-dollar suit, thousand-dollar custom shoes, and a watch encased in diamonds with a discreet logo that screamed expensive. He got three-hundred-dollar haircuts, rode around in limos, downed fifty-dollar glasses of scotch like water, and… hated himself.

“I wanted you to have the things my mother never did,” I said, admitting the truth aloud for the first time. “The things he could never give her. I saw her go without all her life just ‘cause she fell in love with the wrong man. I didn’t want that to be you.”

“What are you talking about?”

Sighing, I pulled away from her as I ran a shaky hand through my hair. Baring my soul, acknowledging my deep-seated fear and shame, was harder than I ever expected it to be. Even when I assumed she already knew the truth. “I didn’t want you to wake up one day resenting me because I couldn’t give you the things you deserved.”

She gaped at me as though I’d lost my mind. “Brody, I don’t know what you think I need to be happy, but I grew up in a normal, middle-class family. We didn’t have a ton of money, just a comfortable life. We were happy, secure, and loved. That’s all I ever wanted for my kids, for our kids.” She reached for my hands. “I’m sorry if I ever gave you the impression I wanted more than that.”

I shook my head before releasing her. Pacing the small tiled room, I tried to find the words to make her understand. “I saw the way you grew up, and to you that may have been ‘the norm’, but to me, it wasn’t. I was so afraid I’d never be able to give you the kind of life your parents had, and they’d eventually convince you I was a loser who’d never amount to anything.” I knew they still thought that, given how I’d made my millions, but their opinion mattered less to me now than it did back then. The padded bank account helped guard my fragile ego. “I was afraid you’d leave me if I couldn’t provide a good life for us.”

She pushed her damp hair off her face, blowing out a breath. “Did it ever occur to you that I was capable of making a good living? I’m not some helpless female who needs a man to take care of her and provide for her, you know!”

Now that she’d made me feel two feet tall, I had some serious back-pedaling to do. “I know that, baby. I know how driven you are, and I’m so proud of all you’ve accomplished. But how would it have looked to your family if you’d been the one taking care of me?” Just the thought of it made me cringe.

“I don’t believe you,” she said, storming out of the bathroom. “You and your stupid male pride!”

I grabbed her before her hand could lock around the doorknob leading to her room. Hauling her against my chest, I closed my arms around her shoulders. “I know you think I’m a bonehead, and maybe you’re right, but I did it because I love you, Ri. I wanted to be everything my father wasn’t.”

She glanced over her shoulder at me. “Do you think some of this may stem from the fact you were too young to help your mother financially when she died? You watched her struggle and felt guilty that you weren’t able to do more?”

Nail, meet head. “Maybe,” I said, loosening my grip on her.

“What happened to your mom was awful,” she said gently, turning to face me. “But you were just a kid. There was nothing you could have done differently. You were there for her to hold her hand, to talk to her, to take care of her the best you could.”

I had a flash of sitting by her bedside, reading to her and feeding her when she was too weak to bring the spoon to her lips. A tear leaked from her eye as she told me she loved me, that I was a good boy and I’d make some woman a good husband one day.

“Logically I know that,” I said, feeling my throat burn. “But in here…” I pointed at my heart. “That’s another story. There’s nothing worse than watching someone you love slip away and knowing there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”

“I know, babe.” She pressed her lips to my bare chest. “I know.”

“I kept thinking maybe if we had money, we could’ve found a better doctor, gotten a second opinion or some other treatment or—”

“Sssh.” She wrapped her arms around my waist, laying her head on my chest. “You’ve tortured yourself enough. No more.”

I wasn’t the only one who had. My brothers and I had had the “if only” conversation half a dozen times over the years. If only things had been different, maybe Mom would still be alive and wouldn’t have missed out on the weddings, grandchildren, and business successes she should have been there to witness.

“After all the grief we gave her, it would have been nice to make her proud,” I said, getting more choked up about my mother than I had in years.

“She’s seen it all.” Riley tipped her head back, looking at the ceiling. “I really believe that.”

Trying to lighten the mood, I said, “Oh, yeah?” With a glance over my shoulder at the rumpled bed, I flashed a quick, painful smile. “I’m kinda hoping she wasn’t watching what I did to you a little while ago.”

She gasped, slapping my chest as her cheeks flamed. “Shut up! I can’t believe you just said that!”

I chuckled, peeling her hands away from her face when she tried to hide it. “I think I’m going to grab a shower now too. Promise you won’t try to sneak out on me?”

She seemed to consider her options before nodding. “I promise.”

Riley

I could tell Brody was nervous about telling his brothers about their father’s other family, so I did everything I could to ensure the evening went off without a hitch. Thankfully, I worked closely with a great party supply company that had been able to deliver a large table with a skirted white tablecloth and a dozen chairs with crisp white covers.

I was fussing with the white flower arrangement in the center of the table after I’d charged my sister with stirring the pasta sauce. I’d decided on simple fare for tonight: antipasto platter, bruschetta, twice-baked rigatoni with Bolognese sauce, fresh bread, salad, and two kinds of cheesecake.

I hoped that would be enough to feed this hungry brood. I knew from experience feeding Brody’s family was often harder than catering a small wedding, mainly because they were all burly men with big appetites. And throw two teenage boys into the mix…

“Maybe I should text Brody and get him to stop at the store on his way home,” I said to my sister. “What do you think? I could do those Italian pork meatballs you like. They don’t take too long to prepare.”

Macy stopped stirring long enough to poke her head through the doorway between the dining room and kitchen. “Did you hear what you just said?”

“What?” I asked, rearranging the crystal glasses on the table. Brody’s brothers were more beer out of the bottle than wine, but I wanted everything to be perfect tonight, so I’d used my fine china to set the tone. I wanted them to know from the outset this was an important occasion, not some impromptu dinner party we’d thrown together at the last minute.

“You referred to this as Brody’s home. Is it?”

I pointed toward the stove. “I think you can turn that off now. Taste it first though, just to be sure it tastes like Mom’s.” I got most of my recipes from her, and right now, I was grateful she was such a good cook who rarely steered me wrong.

“You’re trying to avoid the question,” Macy called, returning to her task. “Why?”

Knowing that was impossible, given who I was dealing with, I said, “No, this isn’t his home. In fact, he wants me to start house hunting with him next week. It’s seems he’s ready to buy another place here.” And I got thrill bumps every time I thought about the kind of house he might buy. A family home in a good school district, perhaps?

Though I was trying to act nonchalant about it, my sister clearly wasn’t buying it. She reappeared, her hand fisted on her hip, a red apron covering her faded skinny jeans and black tunic. “And you’re just telling me this now? What the hell, sis? Why’re you holding out on me?”

If she knew about the conversation I’d had with Brody in that Vegas hotel, she’d never forgive me for not telling her.

“One sec,” I said, reaching for the phone I’d stashed in the back pocket of my jeans. “Just let me text Brody and tell him what I need at the store, then I’ll fill you in.”

As she watched me text, she asked, “Where is he, by the way? Shouldn’t he be here, helping you set up for this? It is his family, after all.”

Laughing, I said, “He had to stock up on booze. I’m afraid I only had a few beers and a bottle of wine. You know that would never do for those guys.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. So, uh, everyone’s going to be here tonight?” Macy asked, reaching behind her to untie her apron.

“Yeah, why?” I stuck my phone back in my pocket before brushing past Macy and into the kitchen. “You wanna stay? I’m sure they’d love to see you. It’s been a while.”

“No, this is a family thing,” she said, leaning her hip against the counter as she watched me pour the sauce over the cooked pasta. “No telling how the guys will react to the news about their father and brothers. And if the shit hits the fan, I don’t want to be here when it does.”

I couldn’t blame her. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be here, and it was my home. “You know if you’re still here when Brody gets back, he won’t take no for an answer. He’ll make you stay.”

Sniffing appreciatively, she turned off the oven when it beeped to indicate the bread was ready. “Brody can’t make me do anything I don’t wanna do.”