Lovers Like Us

by Mary Campisi

  “Good.” Rogan eyed him. “Glad to hear it.”

  Why did his brother sound like he didn’t believe him? “I’ll do it, you’ll see.” And then, because he couldn’t stand to hear one more word about savings and debt, and because he’d carried regret around too long, he said, “I’m sorry I bailed on you when Dad and Mom got into trouble. There’s no excuse and it was a crappy thing to do.” He sipped his beer, leaned back against the kitchen counter. “I’ve never worried about doing the right thing or how my actions might affect someone else. Hell, I never even considered the consequences for half the stuff I did.” He shot a glance at Rogan, shrugged. “I could go on, but you probably know my failings better than I do.”

  Rogan’s lips pulled into a faint grin. “Probably so.”

  Another shrug. “Figured as much. Did you ever think there’s a reason for so many screw-ups?” Luke had realized the truth years ago and once he admitted it, he’d gone full throttle on the self-gratification and risk-taking and to hell with everyone else—especially his brother.

  “A reason, huh?” Rogan rubbed his jaw. “You mean other than stupidity and immaturity?”

  Luke shook his head. “Funny. I won’t deny either, but they’re not it.” Pause. “You are.”

  “Me? What’s that supposed to mean?” Rogan’s blue gaze narrowed on him, the brackets around his mouth deepening.

  “You’re the son every parent wishes he had. I, on the other hand, am the one every parent wishes he could ignore.” There, he’d finally said it. For years, he’d felt inferior when compared to his oldest brother. Even Charlotte came in far behind Rogan. “You always did everything right. Didn’t run away from a tough choice, helped Mom and Dad, loaned me money, and I’m guessing you helped Charlotte, too. There just weren’t any missteps and for a guy like me, that can get really tiring.”

  He dragged a hand through his hair, pushed out more truths. “I spent a lot of years running from my dissatisfaction with myself and my choices. But a year or so ago I got tired of it all. The running, the women, the life that was about finding satisfaction and never achieving it. I had to finally admit I was the problem, my lifestyle was a problem, but that didn’t mean I knew what to do about it.” His voice softened, and he thought of the woman who’d changed his life. “Then I met Helena. I know she’s too good for me, know I don’t deserve her, but I’m not going to give her up. I can’t give her up.”

  Rogan finished his beer, pulled out two more from the fridge, and handed one to Luke. “First, I’m not that perfect. Trust me on that one, and if you don’t believe me, ask my wife. I just hide my issues better than you do. Second, about your wife...you sure fell hard and fast. What was it about her that sent you into a nosedive?”

  The tone in his brother’s voice said he was more than curious… He was suspicious. Of Luke or of Helena? “How about you stop dancing around the niceties and ask me straight out what you really want to know?”

  Rogan twisted the cap off his beer, took a swig and studied Luke like he was about to begin another lecture. “I’m a numbers guy so I look at trends, facts, and statistics. Simple numbers, simple columns that add up and make sense. Nothing about you and Helena makes sense other than you landed in bed together and she ended up pregnant. But the rest? Marrying her? Planning this we’ll-be-together-forever-life? You could never settle on a woman past a week and now you’re ready to make a lifelong commitment?”

  “Yeah, I am.” Luke eyed his brother, clenched a fist against his thigh. “And how is this any different from you and Elizabeth? From what I hear, she was pregnant when you got married and there was a lapse in between when you weren’t even together.” Charlotte had filled him in on the couple’s rough start and their mother gave him her version as well, beginning and ending with how much Rogan and Elizabeth were meant to be together—even if they didn’t know it at first.

  “Leave Elizabeth out of this.” The tone in Rogan’s voice said he was not going to tolerate anyone talking about his wife, not even his brother.

  “Just answer me. I’m not judging, only asking.”

  “We’re not talking about me right now. Everybody’s wondering why you jumped into marriage and the consensus is she pushed you.”

  “The consensus? Are you all sitting around the table taking votes on how we ended up together?” The dull red inching up his brother’s neck said that was pretty much exactly what they were doing. Damn them. He did not appreciate his family thinking the woman he loved was less than honorable. “She did not push me. I’m the one who pushed for the marriage.”

  His brother’s lips stretched into what might be considered a smile if not for the coldness buried behind them. “Don’t you know by now that the most effective measure a woman has of pushing is by looking like she’s not pushing? You know, the ones who say they don’t want a relationship and then end up pregnant? Happens every day. I’ve seen it too many times and I know you have, too. You can’t blame any of us for wondering what this is really all about. This isn’t fifty years ago where you had to marry the girl if you got her pregnant.”

  Luke pushed away from the counter, advanced toward Rogan and stopped when he was a punch away. “Helena is my wife and I love her and we’re going to have a baby. We’re going to make a life together and be happy. End of story.” He crossed his arms over his chest, dared his brother to dispute those words.

  “Good. Glad to hear about your wedded bliss and your future and all the happiness that goes with it. Nobody wants you to be unhappy, Luke. We just don’t want you to get played either.”

  “Got it. And I appreciate the concern but it’s not necessary. Helena and I are solid. She’s the most honest person I’ve ever met.” He could have no way of knowing how much he’d regret those words or wish he’d heeded Rogan’s advice. For now, all he knew was that he and Helena were meant to be together and they were starting a family and a future together. And nothing else mattered.

  Chapter 8

  Carter always had an agenda, but the question was whether it was his own or his brother’s. For much of her married life, Camille never knew because one was meshed with the other. Sometimes Carter’s grand schemes required the assistance of his brother to extricate himself from the problems he created. Other times, Harrison, who had never been one for gentle persuasion, didn’t hesitate to tell his brother exactly what was expected of him. Maybe that’s why years and mistakes later, Carter still hadn’t learned the consequences of his actions. Maybe he still thought a slow smile, an expensive gift, and a seductive glance would do the trick, and earn him forgiveness for all manner of misdeeds.

  And that’s exactly what he thought now as he stood before her in Nicki’s boutique. The man hadn’t dared attempt to visit their home, so he’d tried this tactic, believing she wouldn’t make a scene. He might be right, or he might be wrong; that all depended on the lies that fell out of his mouth.

  “This is a nice place, I like what she’s done with it.”

  Camille followed his gaze as he took in the boutique: the salmon walls, the square-patterned carpeting, the wrought-iron chairs with plush seats arranged in a semicircle, the full-length oval mirrors on pedestals. The mood and décor spoke of a chic elegance, timeless and a tad trendy. “She’s got an eye for good taste.”

  “Obviously.” His gaze slid from her face to the tips of her designer heels, back to her face. “So do you.”

  Oh, for heaven’s sake, was the man really going to attempt those overdone compliments? They might have worked when she’d been willing to accept the scraps he offered and ignored the gaps in their marriage. But not now, not any more. She wasn’t interested in his words, his smile, or anything other than his signature on the divorce papers. Despite her lawyer’s attempts to achieve the latter, he’d been unsuccessful. There’d been meetings, negotiations, back-and-forth disputes regarding property and settlement figures, but nothing to indicate they were anywhere near being done with this distasteful venture. How long should it take to reach an agr
eement? Camille ignored his comment, raised a brow, and homed in on Carter’s designer watch. “Nicki has a husband who supports and encourages her, despite two babies at home. That’s true partnership, Carter, and we never had that.” Camille highlighted a line on the inventory sheet and flipped the page. What on earth did this man want and how could she get him to leave? Nicki was due in soon and Camille wanted the man long gone before her friend arrived.

  Carter placed his hands on the counter, manicured nails gleaming under the low light of the boutique. “I know I was wrong.” His words dripped misery and regret. “Everything’s always been too damn easy for me. I never learned what it meant to not get anything I wanted. If I thought it, I had it.” His blue gaze simmered with intensity. “Until now.”

  She ignored the heat in his words and the fact that they were directed at her. How many times had he played this game before and how many times had she believed him? “I really don’t understand what this has to do with me.” And then because she could not keep her mouth shut, she added, “Did your little sex toy realize you aren’t perfect? Did she not praise you enough?”

  A burst of red swept from his neck to his cheeks. “Cammie… You’re right. I was a fool and Mindy’s just a girl, not a woman... You always made me better than I was. I need that... I want that...”

  “Really?” Well, this was an interesting turnabout, and one she hadn’t expected and didn’t quite believe. “Unless I’m mistaken, you’re going to be a father.”

  More red colored his cheeks. “I am, but who knows if the child’s even mine? It could belong to someone else; you never know about a person like that…”

  Camille might detest Mindy, but for Carter to spew words he absolutely knew were false to save himself was disgusting. He had an angle and it wasn’t about Mindy. It was all about him. “Stop lying, Carter. You’re not interested in anything but yourself, and anyone but yourself. So, just tell me what happened, and we’ll go from there. Did big brother have a talk with you? Did he tell you to break it off with Mindy and get things right with me or he’d cut you off? I don’t imagine a life of reduced circumstances would look appealing to anyone, especially a pregnant girlfriend who thinks you’re a king.” She spotted the truth of her words the second his shoulders slumped, his eyes grew dim, and his lips pulled down. He was such a handsome man, but so damn weak…

  “I’ll admit, Harrison might have commented about my relationship with Mindy and how he’s not happy about the divorce, but he’s opened my eyes. He’s made me see that we belong together, that we’ll always belong together, no matter the difficulties we’ve had.”

  If she could lift the cash register, she’d hurl it at him. “Difficulties? Difficulties that were brought on by you and your inability to control your desire to sleep with anyone and then to lie about it. I don’t like that girl, but she adores you, believes you care about her, too. And maybe you do. Maybe you need someone like that who’ll fawn over you, tell you that you’re the light of her existence. I don’t know, and I don’t care, because it doesn’t matter. What does matter is that you and I—us—we’re done. You are not my light. In fact, I’d rather spend the afternoon with your brother talking about his damnable roses and stock prices, and you know how I feel about him.”

  “Cammie, please—”

  She cut him off. “The difference between you and Harrison is that he’s never tried to pretend he was anything other than a horrible, controlling man, while you put on a smile and let everyone believe you care, including your children. Grow up, Carter. Be a man. Do the right thing by this baby for once in your miserable life. Give me the divorce and take care of Mindy and the baby. You made the mess; now you fix it. Who knows? Maybe the three of you will grow up together.” She offered a cold smile as she pointed toward the door. “Miracles do happen.”

  When Rogan asked Luke if he were interested in hiring on to remodel the old house he and Elizabeth bought, he’d thought his brother was testing him—or joking. The question was either a way to find out if Luke had matured and grown dependable in the last several years, or it was an attempt to stuff humor into their relationship.

  Both possibilities annoyed the crap out of Luke and he let his brother know it five seconds after Rogan asked the question. What he hadn’t anticipated was that his brother really did mean exactly what he’d said.

  “You’re saying you want me to remodel your house?” Luke stood in Rogan’s kitchen two days after their money management conversation, arms crossed over his chest, frown on his face. “Me? The brother you once called reckless, undependable, and irresponsible?”

  Rogan shrugged, the brackets around his mouth deepening. “Yup.”

  Luke scratched his head, squinted. “What am I missing? Is this a trick question?” He sighed, dragged a hand through his hair. “You don’t trust me to do the right thing, Rogan. You’ve never trusted me, so why would you hand over a job that involves the largest asset you own?”

  There was such a long pause, Luke almost asked the question again. When he opened his mouth to repeat it, his brother cut him off. “Because I’ve been thinking about our talk the other day and I think you’ve changed. And you’ve been fixing stuff around the house for Mom that she didn’t even know needed fixing. Plus, a wife and a baby on the way make us see life from a different angle, and maybe we’ve both changed.”

  “Huh.” Luke narrowed his gaze on his brother. “Why do I feel there’s another piece to this complicated puzzle?”

  Rogan looked away, settled his gaze on the kitchen table. “Elizabeth isn’t used to living in a rundown house with lights that don’t work, holes in the walls, and daylight coming through the upstairs ceiling. I’ve got three water leaks in the ceiling and the damn bathroom door doesn’t even close. She never complains but she deserves better than this, and even if I had the time—” he slid a gaze to Luke “—I don’t have the skill sets you do. I’m good with painting a wall and ripping up carpeting, but installing a dishwasher? Replacing tile and patching a roof? I’m better at patching balance sheets and fixing people’s finances.”

  Luke let out a laugh. “So, you’re admitting there’s something I’m better at than you?” Now this was a first. The old Rogan would never have confessed to any faults, or to his brother’s abilities.

  “If I do, will you agree to take on the job?” Pause. “And start working on it ASAP? It won’t be long before we have a new addition and I’m not talking about a new room.”

  “This place needs a lot of work. It’s going to take money and a crew.” Luke scratched his jaw, studied the ceiling with its water spots and chipped plaster. “A lot of both.”

  A burst of red covered his brother’s cheeks. “Yeah, about that...”

  “Let me guess. You want to pay me in food and do most of the work myself?” If he didn’t have a pregnant wife to think about, he probably would have considered it.

  “Money’s not an issue.” More red, inching to his ears. “That’s not true. Money is an issue, but it’s my issue...”

  Luke scratched his head, stared at his brother. When had he ever known Rogan to act unsure about anything? He was a take-charge kind of guy who didn’t flip-flop or hesitate and acted like he had the answer even when he had no clue. So, what was going on? “You know you’re not making any sense, right?”

  His brother let out a sigh that stopped just short of annoyed. “I don’t like to talk about it so I’m only going to say it once.” One more big sigh, this one definitely annoyed. “Elizabeth has money. A lot of it.”

  “Oh.” It wasn’t that the Donovans had anything against wealth or the people who had it, but when you grew up with second-hand everything because you couldn’t afford brand-new, well, it left a mark on you. And while you didn’t want to admit it, it made you resentful of the people who didn’t know about hand-me-downs or doing without. Yeah, Luke was glad Helena didn’t have money. Not that he liked her near-bankruptcy status, but at least he could relate to that. But a woman with a big bank account?
Maybe a trust fund? No thanks. Not in this universe.

  “I didn’t find out until it was too late and then...”

  “Too late as in she was already pregnant, or you were already in love with her?” Luke wanted to see his brother try to get out of this one, so he added an extra zing. “Or both?”

  “Go to hell.”

  Luke laughed. “That’s what I figured. Too far gone on both accounts. So, Elizabeth has money. It could be worse.” When Rogan glared at him, Luke shrugged and muttered, “Or not.” Maybe their attitude toward money would have been different if they hadn’t grown up in the same town as the almighty Alexanders and the reminder of just how much the Donovans didn’t have. Or maybe their father had been just a bit too proud and disdainful of those who didn’t have to struggle as much as they did.

  Rogan shrugged. “It’s part of the package and I have to get used to it.”

  He hadn’t said “had” as in past tense, which meant he was still adjusting. “I see. And just to show her you didn’t care about or want her money, you bought this place?” Luke swept a hand around the room. “Is it a test? See if she’ll stay once she realizes you’re never going to have money like the Alexanders?” The look on Rogan’s face said there might be a speck of truth in those words but when he spoke, it wasn’t that at all.

  “I didn’t want her money and we agreed we’d live on what we made with our jobs, not her inheritance. But I don’t want her living like this: drywall falling from the ceiling, worn-out plumbing, missing floorboards. I finally had to admit it was more about pride and that wasn’t fair to her or the baby. Just wait, you’ll see what compromise and owning up to your own shortcomings are all about.” He paused, said in a quiet voice, “Especially when a child’s involved. You want to do right by your family and that’s when you have to look at your actions and question why you’re really doing them.”