by Megyn Ward
Whoever’s downstairs starts to actually lean on the buzzer. One long Buzz that pulls me out of bed and down the hall.
I hit the blue button. “Hello?”
“Jesus Christ—are you still sleeping?”
It’s Tess.
Before I can answer, she hits her intercom button again. “Open the door, Faraday—I’m on my lunch break, and I need girl time. Con is driving me batshit today.”
I buzz her in before padding over to the laundry room door to open the door for her. On my way, I shoot text Patrick a quick text.
Me: Tess is here. Call you as
soon as I can. ♥
When I get the door open, she’s already halfway up the stairs.
She brought pizza.
“Declan kissed me last night,” she blurts out, shoving the pizza box into my hands as she passes me on her way in.
“I—” I almost tell her that I know. That Conner and I watched the whole thing on the bar’s security cameras, but I stop myself. Conner has done a lot for me, and I owe him, even though he’s a total prick 95% of the time. Besides, knowing I saw what happened between her and Dec wouldn’t help Tess. It might even hurt her more. “I don’t know what to say,” I tell her, shutting the door before following her into the kitchen. “Are you okay?”
“No!” she shouts, yanking the refrigerator open. “I am most definitely not okay.” She disappears into the fridge for a few seconds, digging around until she reappears with a beer in her hand. Twisting off the top, she tosses it in the trash. “Why would he do that?” she asks, eyes wide. She takes a long pull of her beer, draining half of it before speaking again. “What the fuck was he thinking?”
I shrug, turning to pull plates from the rack next to the stove. “If I had to guess,” I say, setting the plates on the kitchen island before opening the pizza box. “I’d say he wasn’t thinking at all.”
At least it didn’t look like he was.
Pulling a few pieces free, I put them on my plate before sitting down. “When did you guys even start talking to each other?”
Tess narrows her eyes, yanking a piece of pizza free. “When that dickface stole my cat,” she says, stuffing her face full of double cheese and sausage.
“Declan stole your cat?”
“Yes,” she says around a mouthful of pizza, washing it down with beer while she rolls her eyes. “No... I’m not sure, exactly. He says he didn’t, but—” She waves an irritated hand in the space between us like she’s swatting a fly. “It was a whole thing. Anyway, it was while ago.” She pulls a face and drops her half-eaten piece of pizza into the box and looks at me. “Why did he kiss me? Things were fine the way they were, and then he has to go and fuck everything up.”
“Maybe things aren’t fine,” I say carefully. “Maybe he’s not as over you as you think.”
I think about what Patrick told me last night. That Declan doesn’t love Jessica. That he’s marrying her because he thinks a lifetime of being shackled to that miserable cow is what he deserves.
Tess snorts, lifting her beer to take another drink. “He’s getting married in two months, Cari,” she says before draining the bottle. “I don’t know how much more over me he can be.”
“Have you talked to him about it?” I ask, walking the line between helping her understand and keeping Patrick’s confidence.
“No.” Tess shakes her head, picking at the label on the empty bottle in front of her. “I can’t do that.” She stands up, taking her empty with her. “Declan and I don’t exactly have a history of effective communication.” Dropping it in the trash, she opens the fridge again. This time, she pulls out a couple of bottles of water. “To be honest, I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
I think about Tess and Declan. Everything they’ve put each other through. All the things they refuse to say to each other. Choosing to hurt and confuse each other instead. So much and for so long that they don’t even know how to breathe around one another without causing pain.
Eleven months ago, that was us. Eleven months ago, all Patrick and I could do was cause each other pain. We couldn’t trust each other. That there was more between us.
I spent the last eleven months figuring it out, flipping through three years worth of memories, trying to pinpoint the exact moment when it happened. When he fell in love with me. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t find it because he’s always loved me—just like he said.
“The truth.” I take the bottle of water she’s offering me. “You start by telling him the truth—about how you feel.” I angle my head, so I can catch her gaze with mine. “How you really feel, Tess.”
“I can’t,” she says, shaking her head. I watch her struggle for a few seconds, struggling to put into words what Conner already told me.
That there’d been a baby.
That Declan left her and she lost it.
Finally, she clears her throat. “He hurt me,” she tells me, her voice barely held above a whisper. “No matter what I feel, I can’t give him the chance to do it again.”
Before I can get her to tell me her side of things, she swipes a hand over her face, erasing whatever emotion she’d been feeling. “I see Cap’n gave you your birthday present,” she says, effectively ending the conversation.
I blush and look down. The chain is visible above the neckline of my shirt, the charm tucked inside. I lift it out and show it to her. “He gave it to me last night,” I say, grinning like an idiot.
“I heard that’s not all he gave you last night,” Tess says, wagging her eyebrows at me and then laughing at what must’ve been a look of pure mortification. “Don’t worry, Cap’n is a gentleman. He didn’t say a word, but Con’s a total perv—and as such, has a way of sniffing these things out.” Her face relaxes into a smile. “I’m happy for you,” she tells me, nodding her head. “I’m glad you guys are finally figuring it out.”
I feel guilty for being happy. Like I’m rubbing it in her face. “Tess—”
“I gotta get back to the garage before Con shows up on your doorstep and drags me down the stairs by my hair,” she says, recapping her water and shutting her pizza box. “You and Cap’n have plans tonight?”
“Sort of—I’m supposed to go to dinner with Miranda and Chase.” I stand, watching her close the lid on the pizza box before tucking it under her arm. “I was going to ask him to go with me,” I say walking her to the door. It’s Thursday—that means both Con and Declan will be behind the bar. Together. It also means Tess will be alone. “But I can cancel. I’ll call Chase and—”
“Don’t you dare,” she says, sounding more like the Tess I know. “I don’t need a babysitter. I’ll be fine.”
Fine means she’ll pull an all-nighter at the garage, working on cars until she passes out on her creeper in the middle of an oil change. Opening the door, she turns and looks at me. “I really am happy for you, Cari.”
She’s halfway down the stairs before I find the courage to say it. “Tell him how you feel, Tess.”
She turns and looks at me. “You should take your own advice,” she says before disappearing around the corner. A few seconds later, I hear the door slam closed behind her.
Forty-four
Patrick
Thursdays are usually rough. Even with catching a few hours sleep before I left for the office, I’m dragging. The only thing that’s keeping me going is the fact that the sooner I get my desk cleared, the sooner I can knock off and go home. Grab a quick shower and change my clothes before seeing Cari.
I texted her as soon as I got to the office this morning, telling her to call me as soon as she woke up. It’s almost 10 AM, and I still haven’t heard from her. I imagine her curled up on her side, hands tucked under her chin, the way she likes to sleep. Right now, I’d give just about anything to be sleeping beside her.
Instead, I’m here. Trying to concentrate on submitting an application for a building permit for the new project we just landed—something that’s usually Declan’s job. He’s been slipping la
tely. Off his game. Not so much that anyone but me would notice but I’ve been noticing it for weeks now. If I were a total dick, I’d shuffle the extra work off onto Jane. She’d probably jump at the chance to do something that didn’t involve color-coding Declan’s filing cabinet. Instead, I push through the paperwork.
As annoyed as I am, I can’t find the energy to work up a full-fledged mad. I’d be dropping the ball all over the place if I was staring down the barrel of the nightmare that is marrying Jessica.
Shit. I’d probably fake my own death and move to Outer Mongolia.
I hear boots stomping, fast and heavy, up the stairs and I look up from my desk in time to watch the real reason I’m here and not taking the day off, push his way through the door.
“Where is he?” Con says, striding past my desk, on his way to the conference room. Throwing the door open, he sticks his head inside, despite the fact that it’s dark as pitch inside. “I’m serious, Patrick.” He slams the door closed and turns to glare at me. “Where the fuck is my brother?”
He hasn’t called me by my given name since we were kids. Hearing it from him now is strange and more than a little bit disconcerting. I aim a look at Jane’s desk. She looks alarmed. “Not here,” I say, keeping my tone level.
“No shit, asshole,” he shoots back. “Where is he?”
I roll my eyes and lean into my desk again to pick up on the application where I left off. “Calm down, Con—”
“He kissed her.”
Shit.
I knew something happened last night between Declan and Tess. The way he chased her behind the bar. The red welt on his jaw. Her asking Logan to go with her to his wedding. Yeah—I knew something happened, I just didn’t think Declan was capable of losing control like that. I didn’t think he was stupid enough to do it around his brother either.
Skipping the part where we passive-aggressively attempt to communicate with each other, I use the intercom. “Jane,” I say, not taking my eyes off Con. “Take an early lunch.”
“... but it’s not lunchtime.”
“That’s why they call it early.” I shoot her a quick look. “Now, Jane.”
“Yes, Mr. Gilroy.”
A second later she’s standing and collecting her bag. A few seconds after that, she’s gone.
I look up to find Conner standing over my desk. The look on his face makes me glad I put Declan in a truck and sent him out to spot check job sites. “Tess is a big girl, Con,” I tell him, despite the tightening in my gut. “She doesn’t need you to fight her battles for her.”
“First, that fucking bitch shows up at my place and has the balls to actually invite Tess to the wedding, and then he shows up and—” He stops himself and takes a deep breath. When he lets it out, he’s not one bit calmer. “Where. Is. He.”
“I don’t know.” To someone looking in on the situation, Con’s reaction to his brother’s fuck-up would look a lot like jealousy. To someone who understands Con and the history he and Tess share, the picture isn’t so black and white. “And I don’t expect him back anytime soon.”
“I can find him on my own, you know,” he says, jaw clicking around each word it’s so tight. “All I need is two minutes and an internet connection.”
“I know,” I say, giving him a shrug. “Which makes me think maybe you don’t want to find him. Not really.”
“Fuck.” Con swipes a hand over his face, shaking his head. “Got any beer in this dump?”
“Check the fridge.” It’s barely ten o’clock in the morning, but if a beer is going to keep Con from killing his brother, I’ll give him a case of the stuff. I type a few more entries into the computer while I listen to him rummage around in the mini-fridge in the kitchen area across the room. He comes back a few minutes later with a bottle of Trillium.
Using the side of my desk, he pops the top before tossing the cap on my blotter. “You look like shit,” he says before taking a long pull from his beer.
“I look like you,” I tell him without looking up from my computer.
Con laughs at my joke, but the sound of it is flat and humorless. “Late night?”
“Wednesday nights usually are for me.” I know what he’s fishing for, but I’m not biting. Instead, I concentrate on filling out the computerized forms on the screen in front of me.
“See Legs yet?” Even without looking, I can hear the grin in his voice. He knows I’ve seen her, but if Con can’t square-up with his brother, then he’ll settle for his second favorite pastime—fucking with me.
“I took her to lunch yesterday.” And then I made her dinner, and almost tongue fucked her on my couch.
“I bet you did,” he says around a laugh. “How many times did you take her to lunch?”
I look up from my computer screen to find him grinning at me. Because I’ve finally embraced my inner asshole, I smile back, glancing down at the new ink peeking out from under the cuff of his jacket. “How’s Henley?”
Con stops grinning.
Draining the bottle of Trillium, he stands. Without a word, he turns and fast pitches it across the room. Like a missile, it hits the screen of Declan’s desktop computer. Screen and bottle explode in a shower of glass, the faint smell of fried circuits drifting in the air.
I know what he wants. He wants a reaction. He wants a fight. I know, because eleven months ago, I was exactly where he is, wanting the exact same thing. “Feel better?”
He looks at me, jaw twitching, mouth flat and grim. Beneath the rage, I can see the hurt. “Not really.”
“You can’t hide from her forever you know,” I say, pressing the subject that caused his outburst in the first place.
His eyes narrow slightly. “Who’s hiding?”
“She’s one of us, Con,” I say, telling him what he already knows. “Henley deserves more than your usual fuck and run routine.”
“You tell my brother I’m looking for him,” Con says, reaching into the sleeves of his jacket through the cuffs to pull down the sleeves of his thermal shirt. “And just so we’re clear—” He looks up at me, mouth twisted into the kind of smile that tells you just how much of a bastard he can be. “you don’t know a goddamn thing about what Henley does or doesn’t deserve.”
Before I can argue to the contrary, Con is gone, pounding down the stairs and out into the cold.
Sighing, I pick up my phone and text Logan, asking him to cover Declan’s shift tonight. As soon as I get a text back, confirming the switch, I text Declan.
Me: Con was here looking
for you.
Declan: Not surprised.
Me: you’re going to have to
buy a new computer.
Declan: He tell you what
happened?
Me: Yup.
Declan: I fucked up.
Me: Yeah, you did. WTF
were you thinking?
Declan: I wasn’t.
As much as I want to be angry at him, I can’t be. Because I’ve been there. I mean, let’s get real—nearly a year into this... whatever this is with Cari, and I’m barely to the point where I can function around her. Or without her.
Me: I get it. But you’re off
the schedule until you and
Con can play nice. I can’t
Have that shit around the
bar.
Declan: Got it.
I stare at my phone for a second before I text something I probably shouldn’t.
Me: And stay away from
Tess. She’s been through
enough.
Declan: ...
Declan: ...
Declan: ...
Declan: I don’t think I can.
Yeah. I get that too.
Forty-five
Cari
After Tess leaves, I throw my half-eaten piece of pizza into the trash and wash the plate before drying it and putting it and its unused companion back where they belong. Afterward, I take a quick shower before settling into one of the huge leather club chairs with my sketch
book, positioning it in front of one of the floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the Charles River.
I meant to sketch the view, but all I can do is draw his face, over and over, like some lovesick teenager. Next, I’ll be writing Mrs. Patrick Gilroy in my notebook and dotting my letter is with little hearts.
Finally, I give up and call him.
He answers on the second ring. “Hey,” he says, in that calm, soothing voice of his, immediately reminding me of what happened the last time we talked on the phone.
“Hi...” I clear my throat, wincing at how nervous I sound. “I’m sorry I didn’t call right away. Tess—”
“I understand,” he says, in the background, I can hear the creak of his office chair as he leans back. “I had a visit from Con this morning.”
“Oh, boy.”
“Yeah.” He chuckles softly. “It didn’t go well... How’s Tess.”
“She’s a mess,” I tell him, pulling my knees up to my chest to rest my chin. “I tried talking to her, but I don’t think anything I said made much of a difference.”
You should take your own advice.
Tess’s parting shot rings in my ears, so loud, it takes me a second to realize that Patrick is talking to me. “What was that?”
He laughs softly. “I said, how’d you sleep?”
“Not great,” I say, staring out the window. My comment is greeted by a long stretch of silence before he finally says something.
“About tonight...” He stops talking like he’s trying to figure out a way to say something I’m not going to want to hear. “I know I said I’d—”
“Will you have dinner with me?” I say before he can finish. I’m not sure I want to hear what’s about to come out of his mouth. “Tonight. I meant to ask you sooner but... I’m supposed to go with Chase and Miranda—they have some sort of news they want to give me, which makes me nervous and I don’t want to go alone, so I thought...” I’m rambling, I know I’m rambling, but I can’t seem to stop talking. “I’d like you to go with me. If you can. If you want.” I drop the phone away from my face for a second, trying to gather myself. Steel myself for a rejection. I raise the phone, eyes squeezed shut. “It’s okay to say no, Patrick. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”