Can't Hurry Love

by Christie Ridgway

  “Stop clucking, mother hen,” Stevie replied. “Especially when I’ve not yet decided if I forgive you for being such a damn bossy know-it-all. Don’t push your luck.”

  With a reluctant nod, Giuliana subsided.

  “Speaking of luck . . .” Allie leaned in. “You should hear how lucky Stevie got last night when Jack did his best to put her in a better mood.”

  “I didn’t tell you anything about it!” Stevie protested.

  “I heard you, didn’t I just say that?” Allie rolled her eyes. “We live in the same house and even the floor between us couldn’t muffle all your moaning and groaning.”

  “He was giving me a massage.” Stevie slid lower in her chair and her face went a bit red. “And speaking in French while he did it.”

  Giuliana found herself grinning. “If the guys in Monsieur Green’s class at Edenville High had only known what a few mercis and s’il vous plaîts could get them.”

  Stevie dipped her fingertips in her water glass to fling a spray at her sister’s face. “FYI, I’m the one with the please and thank yous. Jack just demands or provides.”

  Allie groaned. “Don’t—”

  “As if you and Penn are oh so innocent. Or quiet, yourselves, I’ll have you know. You left off being the Nun of Napa a year ago, and from what Jack and I have seen, you’ve been making up for lost time by—”

  “Stop!” Giuliana put her hands over her ears. “Stop talking any more about this.”

  Her sisters exchanged sly smiles. “Okay,” Stevie agreed. “As long as you tell us everything that’s going on between you and Liam.”

  Giuliana blinked. “What?”

  “That’s how it works,” the middle Baci said. “We tell you about our sex lives and you tell us about yours.”

  “What?” Her face heated. Maybe because she’d considered herself their second mother, that kind of conversation with them just didn’t feel right.

  “We’d settle for the relationship details,” Allie offered. “We’ll be happy to know if you like the same television shows or if you’re arguing about replacing the cap on the toothpaste.”

  “We don’t argue.” Which was funny, when she thought about it, because they had argued, a lot, over the year she’d been living in Edenville but not living with him. The sharp barbs and skewering looks of the past few months had disappeared. In their place was . . . kindness. Caring. Sharing.

  She remembered his clear concern the morning when she’d told him about her mugging and subsequent fears.

  Then she thought about their conversation the other evening. She’d struggled to hide her surprise at his openness and then her shock at how his father had emotionally manipulated him. Since he was ten years old! Those shadows she’d sensed in him had begun to make more sense.

  “We get along fine,” she murmured. Fine enough that they’d been in silent agreement about the sleeping arrangements. They’d been going to separate bedrooms without a word about it. “But neither one of us watches much TV. I’m reading a good book.”

  Allie straightened. “That reminds me.” Dipping into the tote at her feet, she came up with a package wrapped in a familiar scarf. “After what happened at the cottage, I think you should have this for safekeeping.”

  Giuliana fingered the paisley silk wrapping the rectangular object. “Where’d you get this? It was Mom’s, wasn’t it?” A hint of their mother’s signature scent wafted from the fabric.

  She breathed it in, and just like that she was facing her mother again, feeling frightened by her bloodless lips and shadowed eyes, but pretending she wasn’t. Giuliana had pretended to be strong and capable and that she believed everything her mother said.

  You’ll have to take good care of your sisters for me.

  Don’t worry, you’ll be a wonderful mother.

  “Jules. Jules!”

  Her name came to her from far away. She shook herself, then glanced up from the scarf to find her sisters staring at her. “What?”

  “Where’d you go?” Stevie asked.

  “Uh, I . . . Never mind.”

  Her middle sister shook her head. “Giuliana . . .”

  To get away from the censure in her gaze, she returned her attention to the package. Inside was a leather-bound volume, Anne Baci’s diary, that Jack had found hidden in the wedding cottage six months before. Her fingers caressed the embossed leather. “This should go to you, Steve. You’re the one who always believed in the old legends.”

  Allie sighed. “I admit I had a hope or two myself that there’d be a hint about the treasure in there—if not the out-and-out location.”

  “She never even mentions it.” Stevie gave a sad shake of her head.

  “Still, I’m glad we have it.” Allie settled back in her chair. “What if it had gone up in flames with the rest of the stuff in Jules’s apartment?”

  Which popped a thought into her head. “Oh—”

  Each of her sisters sent her an inquiring look.

  “Uh. Oh.” Damn. Maybe she shouldn’t say anything.

  Stevie frowned. “What are you holding back now?”

  “Nothing, nothing. I, um, I was just going to tell you that the police called yesterday morning. There was nothing new to report.”

  Allie’s eyebrows drew together. “What? They called just to say ‘hi’?”

  Hmm. She beamed a high-wattage smile. “Advantages of a small town.”

  “Not buying it.” Stevie’s gaze narrowed. “Despite your practice at keeping secrets, Jules, you are a truly terrible liar. Why did they really call?”

  “Fine.” She sighed. “There is nothing new about the cottage, per se. They just asked me if I thought the trouble there could be related to the arson at my apartment.”

  The nearby sound of a basketball splatting against terra-cotta tiles had Giuliana turning. Liam was staring at her from a short three feet away, the orange orb at his feet. She’d not noticed that the men had finished their game.

  “Why didn’t you tell me this yesterday?” he asked.

  She shouldn’t have to feel guilty! “I’m telling you now. I’m telling you all right now. The detective asked if I could fathom a connection, I said I couldn’t, and he said have a nice day, and I said you, too, and then he said good-bye and I said—”

  “We get it. We get everything.” Liam gave her a long look, then skirted her chair to dive into the pool. The resulting splash sprayed her bare legs and dampened her shirt. She figured he was telling her something with that.

  The mood of the evening seemed to sour. Pizza was delivered, wine was opened, laughter ensued. But there was something simmering under Liam’s surface and she internally railed against it. She didn’t have to tell him everything the moment it happened. He was only her temporary husband, after all.

  When she followed him into the kitchen with the empty pizza boxes, she said as much.

  He spun to stare her down. “‘Temporary’ husband. Jesus, Jules, we’ve been married a decade.”

  Defensive now, she muttered, “Ten years of wasted time.”

  His expression instantly shuttered. Without another word, he took the boxes from her hands and systematically crumpled them between his big hands. She puttered about the kitchen as well, arguing with herself about apologizing. Taking a peek at him, she still couldn’t decide. If they’d been discussing rainbows and puppies he couldn’t look any more peaceful.

  How did he do that?

  She poked at a chair with her toe. “All right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said wasted time.”

  He glanced over. “It was wasted. Don’t think I don’t regret every moment of that.”

  Meaning he regretted every moment of being tied to her. Her face burned. To maintain a semblance of dignity, she stalked back to the pool, glad that the landscape lighting wasn’t bright enough to give away her expression. She didn’t have the gift of Liam’s stony face.

  Even so, Stevie sensed something was wrong. “Jules? What’s up?”

  “It’s just ano
ther couple of weeks until Vow-Over Weekend,” she said.

  “Yeah . . .”

  Liam came into view and she followed him with her gaze. Her chest hurt as he dropped into a chair and made some remark to Penn—something that made them both smile. A couple of weeks . . . and suddenly she didn’t know if she’d ever smile again.

  She pivoted toward Stevie and put her hand on her sister’s forearm. “Steve . . .”

  Her sister’s free hand closed over Giuliana’s. “What?”

  She had no right to ask. Any promise she extracted now might be one Stevie would ultimately want to break. Still, glancing at Liam again, she couldn’t help but beg. “Don’t be mad at me anymore.”

  “Jules—”

  “Don’t turn your back on me, please.” When this ended, when she and Liam ended, she just knew she’d need her sisters more than she could imagine. When her mother had asked her to watch over them, she hadn’t understood how much their love would come to mean to her.

  Stevie squeezed her fingers. “I’m right here. Allie’s right here. But I think we might need to ask you not to turn from us.”

  Giuliana closed her eyes. Because that was true. She was already on that path. Still, she savored being—for the moment at least—in her sisters’ good graces. She needed that, after losing her newfound peace with Liam.

  13

  In the weeds on the side of the road between his place and Edenville, Liam had to face the ugly truth: he’d lost every shred of serenity. His hand squeezed the metal of the wrench and he slammed the toe of his work boot into the rubber of his flat tire. What had getting Giuliana into his house and into his bed—once—bought him? A mere few days of calm, and now this.

  Ten years of wasted time.

  “Shit!” He flung the useless wrench away, sending up a poof of dust just as another vehicle pulled up behind his. His half brother Penn climbed from his truck, his gaze taking in the tire, the discarded tool, then Liam himself.

  Penn’s eyebrows rose. “Lookin’ frustrated, bro.”

  “Yeah.” He tried blowing it out with a long breath. “Stupid lug nuts won’t budge.”

  “You want me to give it a try? You’re not known for your brute strength.”

  “Fuck you.” Liam realized Penn was joking around, but he wasn’t in any kind of mood for it.

  “Ouch.” Penn cocked his head, clearly more amused than insulted. “What did I do to deserve that?”

  “I don’t like the way you look.”

  His lips twitched. “According to most everyone, I look a hell of a lot like you.”

  “Impossible. The only way I could look as goddamn cheery as Mr. Build Me Up is if I was getting regular sex from a beautiful woman.”

  Penn grinned. “Okay, you got me. It’s a situation I highly recommend.”

  With a shake of his head, Liam turned back to his car. “Go away, Penn. I’m not good company.”

  “But I am, given my ready availability to, uh, conjugal pleasure. Hop in. It’s past lunch. We’ll blow this pop stand and find a beer somewhere.”

  Liam kicked the offensive tire again. “There’s this small problem.”

  “Call Gil at Edenville Motor Repair. We’ll drop your keys with him on the way into town. He’ll tow it to the shop and take a hydraulic wrench to the lug nuts.” Penn barely held back his smile. “Or just use his own brute strength.”

  Liam flipped his middle finger at his half brother but made his way to Penn’s passenger seat anyway. What better revenge than subjecting his relative to his lousy mood?

  “Is there something besides a beer you might like? Maybe I can find a place where you get to tear pillows in half with your bare hands.”

  He slid Penn a look. “Beer will be fine. Remember, I’m weak.”

  “You said it this time, I didn’t.”

  Liam ignored this latest dig and stared out the window as they made their way into Edenville. It only took a moment to set up the tire repair at the auto shop and then they were on their way again.

  The truck slowed as they turned a corner. The burned shell of Giuliana’s apartment building stood on the right. Ravens perched on the charred beams like vultures. Penn let out a low whistle. “This is the first time I’ve been by since the fire. Lucky thing that everyone got out.”

  Liam couldn’t look away as they passed, his neck craning to keep the remains in sight. Maybe this was what was wrong with him—it was a delayed reaction to the understandable stressors of the close call at her apartment and then the vandalism at the wedding cottage.

  Not a reaction to what she’d said that night. Ten years of wasted time.

  Hot emotion spiked like a fever through his blood and he squeezed shut his eyes. “Get me to a beer, ASAP.” As Penn kept driving, Liam tried bringing his temperature down. This was what he hadn’t wanted—and what he’d hoped he’d outgrown—the way the woman could invade his system and short-circuit his good sense, his good intentions, his very sense of self.

  He was civilized, he’d settle for staid, even, and life at the mercy of Giuliana tested his control. If he couldn’t contain himself, then he was no better than his father, who indulged his every appetite and who had ruined so many lives.

  It wasn’t until he was seated on a stool at a high table in a downtown Edenville bar with a sweating bottle of Negro Modelo in front of him that he felt a bit more sane. He wrapped his hand around the cold glass and then wiped his wet hand on his forehead. After another moment he felt calm enough to meet his half brother’s curious gaze.

  “I know,” he said. “I’m acting crazy.”

  Penn shrugged. “You’re not acting like an ice cube. Don’t know that it qualifies you as crazy.”

  “An ice cube?”

  “Listen, bro. Anybody would be struggling right now. You and Jules have been at each other’s throats for a year. It’s got to be hard to live with her.”

  He shook his head. It wasn’t hard to live with her. What he couldn’t come to grips with was how she hadn’t come to him when she couldn’t pay the security company’s bill or shared with him the police’s suspicions. What made him want to strangle pillows and socket wrenches was the way her comment—ten years of wasted time—had stung. Why the hell was that?

  “You could talk to me,” Penn offered. “I’m actually a good listener and I know what it’s like to be involved with a Baci girl.”

  “I’m not involved with a Baci girl!” Then he realized how ludicrous that sounded. “God.” He thumbed his eyes. “When haven’t I been involved with that particular Baci girl?” His co-captain as a child. His lover as they moved into adulthood.

  But opening up to Penn could give rise to topics that he’d been steering clear of since the other man came into his life. He didn’t want the one who seemed like the happy twin to know all the ugliness that came along with the paternal half of his DNA.

  “It must be my lucky day,” a female voice purred. “By all that’s handsome, Liam and Penn Bennett.”

  Liam’s hand dropped. His muscles hardened to concrete, even as bile sloshed in his belly. Standing beside their table was a fortyish woman, sleek and well tended.

  Penn got to his feet, an easy smile on his face. “Erin, isn’t it? Erin Bell.” Glancing over, he appeared to note Liam’s distinct unwelcome. Eyes narrowing, he returned to his high stool.

  Erin turned her attention to Liam, her smile still at full wattage. “I had the pleasure of meeting your half brother just the other day.”

  “Move along,” Liam said.

  Her nostrils flared. “I could join the two of you. I’ll even buy the drinks.”

  “Move along.”

  She laughed, though he didn’t think he imagined the strained note. “Don’t be surly, Liam. So you’re husbands. Why, I’m sure your wives—those cute Italian girls, right?—”

  “Don’t mention our wives.” Liam shot to his feet. “Don’t speak of them, don’t speak to them.”

  “Liam.” She had the gall to appear hurt. “Who I
really want to speak of is your father. It would be lovely to have a chat about him with his sons—”

  He had her elbow in his grip. “Good-bye, Erin.”

  Penn put out a hand. “Stay cool, bro.”

  Ignoring the warning, he used his hold to propel the woman in the direction of the exit. “Don’t bother me and mine again.”

  Once the bitch was out the door, Liam’s half brother allowed him a few minutes to reseat himself and down two-thirds of his beer. It didn’t do much for his temper, but it allowed him time to consider his options. Penn was going to press him for info. When he glanced up, it was to find Penn waiting.

  “Interesting woman,” the other man said.

  “You need to steer clear of her.” He decided to reiterate the warning and leave it at that.

  “You’ve said that before. Why?”

  Liam gulped another swallow of beer. “You don’t need to know.”

  Penn cocked his head, then shook it. “Must be hell to be you.”

  Liam choked on his next swallow. Coughed. “What?”

  “I figure it’s gotta be uncomfortable, walking around with a big stick of noble shoved up your butt.”

  “Noble!”

  “It’s what’s keeping your spine so stiff, right? And it reminds you to be the decent and dignified Bennett brother, setting a fine example for his family and the community.”

  “You’re just trying to piss me off,” Liam said.

  “Maybe.” Penn shrugged. “Maybe you’re already pissed off. And keeping all that pissiness inside and under a veneer of calm and upright integrity is starting to wear on you.”

  “Fuck off.” He wouldn’t be goaded.

  “I admire you, man, I do. It must have taken a boatload of control to spend the last year living half a mile from your wife, patiently waiting for her to find the time to face up to your marriage.”

  Penn was trying to provoke him. Liam told himself that, yet it didn’t stop the words from dropping like lit matches onto dry tinder, starting fire after fire in his head. He took another swallow of his beer, trying to douse his temper. “Don’t push me,” he said.

  “Maybe someone needs to.” Penn smiled, then leaned close and lowered his voice. “Civility is for sissies.”