by Amber Scott
Claire slowly nodded. She would take this slowly. “I met Jace six years ago. I’ve been in love with him since we met, and I have denied it for years. I told myself it wasn’t real. Then three or so weeks ago, our paths crossed, and I had to face my feelings for him. For Jace Fletcher.”
Eve shook her head. She laughed derisively. “Claire, ah, my dearest daughter. You run into a guy you had feelings for—when?—in college? And you believe they are real?” Eve grasped her hand this time. “Honey, if you cross paths with your past—a past you might miss a little—and combine that with last-minute doubts every man and woman on this earth feels before their wedding, well, what do you expect?”
Claire lowered her gaze. If only it were as simple as that. She looked up again, ready to do what was necessary to penetrate the denial. “Mom, Jace may be the only person on this planet who really gets me, and who sees me for me. Mother, I’m not sensible. I’m reticent, cowardly, and scared. I do what I hope will make you and Dad love me, what I think is proper, and what will get the least amount of curious attention.”
Eve Byron pursed her lips, but not before Claire saw them tremble. Regret pinched in her chest. She’d spoken too harshly. Briefly, Claire wondered which one caused the glimpse of a tremble, the wedding cancellation or that she loved a man other than Oliver? “Mother, I realize you’ve put so much work into my wedding. But how can I walk down the aisle if I don’t love my husband.”
“Love? Please! Marriage isn’t about love, Claire. How many times have I warned you? Love will not pay bills. Love will not secure your future.”
“How can you truly know that, mother? Didn’t you ever completely and utterly love someone? Not even dad?”
“I think you should leave.”
Claire gasped. “Leave?”
Eve nodded, her gaze cold. Claire felt all of five again, wanting to rush to her skirts and beg her mom to hug her, to not walk away. She’d cooperate. She’d be good. Just, please, don’t take any love away.
“Yes, please go. I can’t talk to you like this.” She looked away.
Claire’s mouth fell open only long enough to snap it shut. Hadn’t she expected this? Wasn’t this everything she’d feared? No. There was a fantasy reaction, too, she realized. A secret hope that her mother would not turn cold and distant, but would simply understand and support her no matter what.
A very deep-seated part of her wanted to reassure her mom that she was right. That Claire was probably just having jitters, anything to not be shut out for hours or weeks or months. How long had the one in seventh grade lasted? Six months. Eve had managed to not touch her daughter for six long months. Over flute lessons.
Jealousy spiked through her. Would Jace’s family do this to him? No. They’d yell. They’d argue. They’d cry and laugh and figure it out. Together. Could they accept even this? The girl that got away is back. But in love with the other brother.
Could the Fletchers accept Tyler’s ex as Jace’s new girlfriend? She should go. She should stop sitting there waiting for Eve to say something. Bizarrely, she almost laughed. Her mind felt that much lighter. She’d done it. She’d faced the demon. No one’s reaction could be worse than her mother’s—not even Oliver’s. Which was exactly whom she had to see next.
* * *
Hell and back? His twin brother had lost his mind. Worse, Jace was about to lose his temper. He refused to tell him like this. Not in anger, now with his brother acting like a jealous stalker. He couldn’t begin to guess what Claire had heard or how she might react either.
“I have to go to work, Tyler. I’m sorry, but you have to go.” Jace pointed.
Tyler scowled. “You want me to leave? Why?”
“Look, I’m not up for it, Tyler. Go to mom. Go dump on Ashley. I have my own problems.”
“Unbelievable.” Tyler stood. “I thought I could count on you. How many times have you shown up on my doorstep, like a kicked puppy, and I’ve taken you in?”
“You hardly even know her,” Jace said in a low voice.
“What?” He narrowed his eyes.
“You hardly even know her.” He met his gaze. “I’m sorry if that hurts you, bro, but it’s true. Now, please ... go. I need a shower.”
Tyler let the door slam shut, and if his brother didn’t have a clue about Jace’s feelings for Claire now, he never would. Until it stared him in the face.
“You’ve gotta go, Tyler.”
“What? Why?”
“I just ... please go. I have to get ready for work and I’m just not up for it today, okay?” The need to get his brother out the door gripped him by the throat. “I’ve got a migraine coming on.”
“Just not up for what? What does that even mean?”
“Up for you mooning over Claire. Okay?” Mooning over the woman he loved. The woman Jace wished he could finally call his own.
“Whoa. Bitchy much?”
“Yes. Bitchy, bitter, call it what you want. Just go.”
Tyler flipped him the bird and let the front door slam shut.
Jace hurried to his bedroom. The last thing he expected was to find it empty, the window sitting wide open,
Jace sat on his sofa, staring at his shaking hands, wondering what had happened to his world. Upside down didn’t cover it. What was he thinking? He’d nearly told Tyler everything!
Inside out and twisted was more like it. Like a time warp.
His biggest wish was coming true, and with it, his worst fear, too. Tyler was still in love with Claire. So much so that he wanted to try to end her engagement, for what? A second shot at winning her. They were right back to where they’d started.
Jace smitten. Tyler blind. Claire running away.
Karma must have it in for him. Tyler, in all these years had never, not once, been able to hold interest in any single girl. Given more time, even Claire would have lost his attention. Regardless of sex. How could she not, when he never saw her for who she was? He couldn’t see her vulnerability, her vibrance, and her determination. He saw only her presentation, the face she wore for the world, the one that she had removed for Jace during late-night whispers all those years ago.
And now, Jace had gone and thrown Tyler out of his house. He had seen red. In doing so, now in the aftermath, his emotions cooling and recoiling, churning and twisting, he knew he’d begun the end he’d been avoiding for years.
Tyler would find out.
If he didn’t find out from him or Claire, he would figure it out. He was no idiot.
Jace ran a hand over his face. What would he do when he finally knew the truth? What would his family say? How could he face them after betraying his own brother so thoroughly for so long?
Claire was ending her engagement, but not because she couldn’t live another day of lying, of living without Jace. She was ending it because Tyler had spied on and stalked her fiancé and discovered breakup gold.
He put his head in his hands. A headache was making its way into his temples. The scent of her, the feel of their lovemaking, still radiated from his skin. He wanted to curl into himself and pull it inward. But he needed to pull it together and figure out what to do. What could he say? Call Claire? Call Tyler?
Staring at his cell phone on the end table, he mentally scrolled through the phone book. No one. No one knew about Claire. There was no one to call. Screw it. He would just have to bear this alone.
The phone rang, lighting up and skimming the table’s surface in vibration mode. Quickly, he reached for it, something in him hoping it would be Claire, but knowing it couldn’t be.
It was Ashley. Could he tell Ashley?
Jace cleared his throat and answered.
“It’s time.” Ashley missed her calling as a drill sergeant.
“Time for what?” Jace said, pinching one temple.
“Jace Fletcher, it is time for your niece to come into the world.”
Jace sucked in a breath. “It’s a girl!”
“Shit,” Ashley said low. “Yes. Peanut’s a girl, and so help
me, if you tell a single soul, I will ...” The line fell silent.
“Hello?” Jace glanced at his phone screen.
“I’m here,” Ashley answered tightly. “Contraction. It’s easing now. They’re seven minutes apart. By the time we get to the hospital, they should be closer to five, like they told me to wait for. Within four or five hours, we can call everyone in. Until then, just swear you won’t call anyone. Alright? And meet us there.”
“Hospital, yes, okay. Can I bring anything?”
“No. Lawrence has my bag. Oh, no wait. Can you stop and get some donuts? I’m crazy hungry.”
Jace grinned. “Donuts? Right. I’m on it. See you at the hospital.” He hung up and started moving. Nothing like a distraction to help a guy think. This, he could handle. This, he could focus on and not come unhinged. Labor. Ashley’s long-anticipated and very-well-rehearsed labor. In a matter of hours, Jace would meet his niece.
His smile widened. A girl! A sweet little thing to teach how to throw a ball, to show the right way to left uppercut a guy in the chin. Jace would be the best uncle ever. His big sister deserved as much.
A baby. He’d always wanted kids.
Claire. Wouldn’t it be heaven to have kids with Claire? Little brunettes with curls and mocha eyes. Tyler betrayed, his family betrayed, Claire more worried about who her fiancé was with than Jace.
He shoved it all out of his mind, forcing the fear and nausea with it, and drove.
Donuts. Ashley. A baby girl.
In that order.
* *
“Is he on the way?” Millie asked.
“Yes.” Ashley winced.
“Oh my crap, Ashley. I’m so sorry. I’m terrible at this.”
“I know,” Ashley hissed. “You’re kind of terrible at a few things, Millie.”
“Trust me. I know.” Millie scooped a handful of Ashley’s ice chips, her bangles jingling. “But, I am improving. This match only took me six years.”
“Versus?”
No matter what AJ said, having someone on the real side of life knowing what she was turned out to be so amazing. Yes, he’d flip when he found out Millie filled Ashley in on the whole life sentence and Karma Court thing. But, she didn’t care. Finally fixing her mistake and reuniting Jace and Claire was worth whatever hell heaven handed down as her punishment.
How bad could it be?
Certainly not worse than it had been. “Versus a botched love potion, or four. Accidentally outing someone long before he had come to terms with his sexuality. Oh, and a truly horrific episode with a truth serum.”
“That’s it!” Ashley half-gasped, her head thumping back.
Millie paused mid-ice chip. “Oh, no. What is it? Should I get a nurse?”
Ashley swung her head from side to side and made a deeply disturbing moaning sound. Millie backed away. “I’m going to find Lawrence. He’ll be so much better at this. Really.”
Holding her hand out, Ashley shook her head again. “Can’t tell him.”
“Of course I have to. He’s the dad. He needs to be here.”
Ashley breathed out, her shoulders relaxed and she smiled. “No. Lawrence will be back in a minute. Seriously, until Jace gets here, I can’t have him in here. Jace is for Lawrence. Not for me.”
“Really? Uh, I don’t think he knows that.”
“Of course he doesn’t, and you won’t tell him.” She waved her hands. “You’re going to make me forget. You are brilliant.”
Millie frowned. She thought for sure that Ashley was skipping that whole drug route. “Come again?”
Ashley smacked her lips on a chunk of ice. “Truth serum.”
“Uh, nooooo. Trust me. It works a totally different way in the movies.” Millie blocked out the images of poor Match Number Twenty-Four, the police charges brought against the woman, as well as the entire streaking incident before the memories could sock her in the belly.
In that somehow endearing way of hers, Ashley snorted. Loud. Little ice chunks sprayed off her lips. “It’s the only answer. Jace won’t tell Tyler. Trust me. He has this thing where he needs to protect Tyler by always making him the popular twin, the smart twin, or the loved twin.”
“So you want me to give Jace truth serum?”
“Yes,” Ashley said, nodding. “Or ... no. Maybe Claire needs to tell Tyler. Or maybe they should do so together.”
“You want me to give it to both of them? Sorry, Ashley, but absolutely not. I might— and I mean a gigantic might here—be willing to slip a teensy little drop into one drink. But not into two.” There was such a thing as too much truth. She would not risk this match with that much honesty.
Period.
“So, how do we do it?”
Lawrence knocked on the door then peeked around the curtain. “Hey beautiful,” he said.
“Before we do anything, there’s a small matter of getting the stuff.” She’d have to get AJ’s help. Or break into his bedroom.
“Getting what stuff?” Lawrence asked, pulling a chair closer to Ashley’s bed.
“Donuts.”
“Jace already got some.”
“He’s here?” Ashley squeaked, holding her belly.
Millie didn’t need any more cues. She gave Ashley a quick hug, waved at Lawrence, who didn’t like her anyway, and get the heck out of there. On the way down the hall, she waved at Jace, mumbling about not being very good with hospitals. She got in her car. How much time did she have? A fifteen-minute drive over there and back. Enough time to get the stuff and mix it. Time to con one of them into drinking it. What was she going to do—tell AJ to get the serum?
That, apparently, would all depend on whether or not he was home. Because she saw now, Ashley was right.
The truth would definitely set Jace and Claire free.
~~
Chapter Nineteen
Just three hours into Ashley’s hospital admittance, her birth plan—outlined, color-coded, and distributed to all nursing staff—went up in smoke after one contraction. Ashley was contracting five minutes apart, and for each one, she gripped Jace’s hand as though it were an animal that she could strangle the pain out of. Then, once the contraction ebbed, she would sit up and examine the little machine scribbling lines that reminded Jace of a lie detector test.
Over and again.
And again.
“This isn’t even as bad as it gets,” Ashley said, again, shaking her head, again. “It gets worse. I’m only at a four. What happens at a seven? At ten?!”
Jace shut his mouth. He’d learned by his fifth attempt to placate Ashley that all the coaching in the world wouldn’t change the fact that it hurt. Bad. Jace could not even imagine.
They’d tried multiple positions and all the breathing techniques. And each hour crawled by more and more slowly. Each second of pain dragged through the room.
“I’m only four centimeters dilated,” Ashley said, lying back and pinning Lawrence with an accusatory look.
Lawrence apparently learned somewhere between the house and the car that his coaching, breathing, and whatever else his wife had planned out, was simply not going to work. He sat at the foot of the bed, massaging Ashley’s feet. She wriggled them away and shook her head at him.
“If I’m only four centimeters now, that means a centimeter an hour, give or take,” she said to no one in particular, with a doe-like look to her eyes. “That’s six more hours, probably more like ten since this is my first,, and that means ...” Ashley’s chin trembled.
Sheesh, if this rock of a woman lost it right now, he didn’t know what he would do. Ashley was the stern big sister made of more than stern stuff. She was Lawrence’s—sweet, quiet, enigmatic Lawrence—anchor.
If Ashley began crying, hormones raging, fatigue setting in alongside certain disappointment in her birth plan falling apart, Jace might, too. Hell, Lawrence might, too.
Where was Millie? Where was their mom? He glanced at Lawrence for help, feeling a sting in his eyes. Lawrence’s gaze held sheer terror. Great
. He was scared. Well, of course he was scared. His rock was shattering, his baby was on the way, and no other person was allowed in this room, which felt smaller and hotter with each passing minute.
One tear slipped down Ashley’s cheek as her hand tightened around Jace’s. “Okay,” Jace said. “Here comes another. We’re almost to the peak. Just a little more.” Ouch! “Now it’s peaking, and steady, and,” he said, straining against the pain shooting up his arm. “Now it’s going down.”
Ashley exhaled. Inhaled. Exhaled. The contraction subsided, and the monitor showed a low, even line. “I’m getting an epidural.” Another tear slid down her cheek. “Let mother in here and lose a testical.”
“Okay. Got it.” Jace blinked several times. How much trouble would he get into if he broke his promise and let her give in? Screw it! She could hate him later for not talking her out of it. He couldn’t even remember why she’d picked him to co-coach anyhow. Something about keeping Lawrence from going berserk? Yeah. More like Ashley going berserk.
Slowly, he nodded. “Ashley, you can get an epidural. Whatever way you choose to do this, you can still do it. You can bring your baby into the world.” There. Close enough to the mantra she’d forced on him every day for the last six weeks. His minor tweaking of words seemed to work.
Ashley’s face took on a look of such pure relief that even Lawrence exhaled loudly, scrubbing a hand over his face. He sent Jace a nod of gratitude. “Should I go get a nurse?” he asked.
His deep voice resonated through the room, and Jace realized that they’d all stood silently, waiting for one of them to say the words. “Good God, yes!” Ashley said. The tension surrounding them burst and dissipated.
Lawrence stood. “No, wait. Can you go, Jace? Can you tell everyone it’s going to be a while?”
Within an hour of their arrival, Tyler, Davis, and both parents had taken up most of the waiting room’s space. Crap. Like Ashley needed anything else to go Sybil over.
* * *