Won't Miss You: A Brother's Best Friend Romance (We Shouldn't Book 4)

by Lilian Monroe

  I’ll make sure Gabby and Bradley go to college or trade school or art school or wherever they want to go. I will. I’ll be there for Sarah whenever she needs me, and not just for money. I’ll pay for her birthday party with my own money.

  I’ll be by her side. On the other end of a phone call. A couple of streets away.

  That’s what real family does, and it’s what I’ll do—because I know that a big bank account can’t replace being here. Caring. Putting someone else’s needs above your own.

  That’s what’s important.

  But people like Rae? Like my dad?

  They’ll never understand it.

  The next day, the weather is beautiful. The sun is shining in a clear blue sky, with fluffy, white clouds that look like they’ve been painted overhead. There’s a new birds’ nest in a tree next to my bedroom window, and I can hear the new baby birds screaming for their breakfast.

  “Same here, birdie,” I groan, swinging my legs off the edge of the bed.

  I put on some old work clothes and make myself a cup of coffee. I drink it down in a couple of minutes and feel slightly better.

  The bitterness of my father’s unexpected visit still weighs me down. I try to shake it off, but it dampens everything. My movements feel sluggish. My heart is heavy.

  I stare at the black tar at the bottom of my mug, sighing.

  Then, the doorbell rings.

  As I approach the door, my mood worsens. It better not be him. If he’s back here, spouting some bullshit about taking his money, I swear to—

  “Rae,” I say, my eyebrows jumping up.

  “Hi.” She smiles shyly, then extends a platter toward me. “Sarah told me you like chocolate chip cookies.”

  I stare at the plate of cookies, my eyebrows arching even higher. “Did you make these?”

  “I did. Hot out of the oven. Try one.” She smiles. “Breakfast of champions.”

  I open the door wider. “You…you want some coffee?” There’s a lump in my throat the size of my fist. I wasn’t expecting Rae, and I definitely wasn’t expecting kindness.

  She steps inside, ducking her head in a quick nod. “I’d love some.”

  Rae looks softer with her hair down. It flows around her face in thick, brown locks, making the spattering of freckles on her nose stand out a bit more. She smiles at me, a hopeful stare in her eyes. When she looks at me like this, that scar on her eyebrow doesn’t look like a flaw at all. It adds to everything I already like about her face.

  “I had to go to the grocery store last night to get some supplies for the house, so I figured I’d get a baking sheet, too. Sarah let me borrow her mixer.”

  She slides the plate of cookies onto my rickety kitchen table and accepts the coffee I give her with a smile on her perfect, pouty lips.

  “Oh!” She reaches into her purse. “And this is from Roman.” She pulls out a messy picture with a bunch of colorful scribbles on it. “He says thanks for making his bed.”

  My heart constricts. That lump in my throat doubles in size, and I do my best to clear it. “Thank you.”

  Rae takes a sip of coffee, then lifts her eyes up to mine. “Look, Benji, I know we got off on the wrong foot. I didn’t know Harold had told you he’d leave you the business.”

  I shrug. “You paid for it. Bought it fair and square.”

  “Still,” she says, taking a cookie off the platter and tearing it open. A big, melted glob of chocolate droops out, and she licks it before it falls to the ground. I follow the motion, my eyes lingering on her tongue. Is it possible to be jealous of a chocolate chip?

  Rae grins at me, nodding to the platter. “It’s a peace offering. Eat one. They aren’t poisoned. See?” She takes a big bite, smiling at me with chocolate-covered teeth.

  I chuckle, grabbing a cookie off the platter. “Fine. Thank you. And tell Roman thanks for the picture.” I pop the cookie in my mouth and grab the scribbled drawing, sticking it to the fridge with a magnet right next to faded drawings that Gabby and Bradley gave me.

  Rae’s eyes shine. A soft smile plays over her lips, and the morning sun streams through the window to hit her face in just the right way. She looks ethereal. Like a goddess.

  She sticks her hand out toward me, drilling those brown eyes into my blues. “Truce?”

  I hesitate.

  Even though she brought me cookies. Even though I’ve seen another side of her. Even though I can tell she loves Roman with all her heart.

  Still, I pause.

  I’m betraying Sawyer. I know I am. I promised him I’d drive her out of town. I told him I’d be on his side no matter what. I agreed that Rae was the devil in figure-hugging jeans. Sawyer’s my best friend, and he doesn’t want to be anywhere near Rae.

  But I saw a different side of her last night. Even this morning, I can tell she’s being sincere. She didn’t bring me something she bought. She made these cookies. Spent time baking them. Listened to Sarah when she said they were my favorites.

  I lift my palm up to Rae’s, shaking it firmly. “Truce.”

  My heart thumps. Her palm is soft against mine. Small. Warm.

  Being here with Rae doesn’t feel like a betrayal. It feels right. She doesn’t look out of place or uncomfortable. A soft smile plays over her lips, and her eyes flick back to the cookies.

  “Shall we seal our truce with chocolate chip cookies?”

  I grin, picking up another cookie from the pile. “Let’s.”

  We finish our coffee, and then head outside. Rae offers to help me clear twigs from the lawn so I can mow it, and then I watch her weed the overgrown garden beds that run along the front of the house. I mow the lawn, stealing a glance at her every time I turn the mower in her direction.

  When we’re done, Rae plants her hands on her hips and grins at me. “Much better. Might need to enlist you to mow our lawn, too.”

  “Don’t push your luck,” I growl, even though I really wouldn’t mind.

  Rae laughs, and the sound rattles against my hardened heart. A hairline fracture forms, and I can feel her driving a wedge into it, prying it open.

  Standing in the sunshine with her feels good. Too good. We stare at each other for a long moment until she takes a deep breath and gestures toward the road.

  “I should go.”

  My heart twinges, but I hide it. “Sure.”

  “See you Monday?”

  “Bright and early.”

  Rae starts walking away but pauses, turning. “Would you mind bringing that plate to the garage when you’re done with the cookies? We don’t have very many dishes at the house.”

  I grin, nodding. “I thought you came from old money. Can’t you afford a few plates?”

  Rae’s smile fades ever so slightly, but she forces it back up again. “Probably, yeah.”

  Waving, she turns away from me. I watch her walk down the road until she disappears, and I feel more confused than ever.

  Standing on my freshly mowed and weeded front lawn, I realize I have no idea who Rae Montgomery really is.

  10

  Rae

  I don’t expect Benji to actually show up to work holding my plate, yet here he is, waving the plate back and forth as he enters the office. He holds it in both hands, placing it down on the desk with a bow.

  “As requested, madam.” A grin tugs at his lips.

  I fight a smile. I like when he’s playful, but I don’t want to push my luck. I dip my head. “Much appreciated.”

  “Your precious plate is in one piece, washed, dried, and polished. At your service.” His eyes sparkle, and I’m pulled in. I can’t help it. Benji has a magnetism about him. He has a way of making me hang on to every word, begging for more. Even when he’s being rude to me, it’s still better than being shut out.

  I take the plate, inspecting it.

  “I trust it was cleaned to your satisfaction, Miss Montgomery?”

  I take on a haughty air, turning the dish over as I arch an eyebrow. “It’ll do.”

  Benji c
racks a smile then, and it feels like a break in a heavy, dark cloud. The sun’s rays peek through, warming my frozen heart.

  “Thanks for your help on Sunday,” he says. “I hadn’t weeded those garden beds in a while.”

  “I noticed,” I say, dragging my eyes up to his. “You should plant something. The soil is rich, and you get plenty of morning sun. You could have a beautiful garden.”

  “I’m more of a machine type of guy. Engines. Metal. Grease. Living things are too fickle.”

  “Living things are magic,” I answer. “There’s nothing better than a beautiful garden. I can help you choose some easy-care plants, if you want. I could even help you plant them, if you supply the muscle.” I jerk my chin at his bulging biceps, grinning.

  Benji doesn’t answer. I try not to fidget under his gaze. He tilts his head, staring, and I grip my thighs under the desk to stop my knee from bouncing.

  I’m not usually like this. My parents have paraded so many men in front of me that I thought I was immune to good looks. I thought I didn’t care about guys, because my mind was so focused on providing for Lucy and reconnecting with Sawyer.

  Now, with the heat of Benji’s stare chipping at my walls, making them crumble bit by bit, I’m not so sure. His pickaxe seems pretty effective against my particular brand of mortar.

  “You’re not what I expected,” he finally says.

  “What did you expect?”

  “Someone more…evil, I guess?”

  I laugh, but the sound is dipped in sadness. I let out a heavy sigh, shaking my head. “Sawyer doesn’t know everything that happened all those years ago. I don’t know what he’s told you about me, but I can guarantee I’m probably not as bad as he says. At least, I hope not.”

  “I’m starting to see that.” He keeps his eyes on mine for a moment longer, and heat blooms over my cheeks. My throat grows tight. The air thickens, and I wonder what he’s really thinking.

  Does he feel this tension between us? Does he imagine himself naked next to me, the way I imagine being next to him? Does he wish we hadn’t gotten off on the wrong foot, too?

  Benji clears his throat, breaking the spell between us. “I got the parts for your car. Should have it fixed by the end of the week.” He gives me a quick nod, retreating from the office.

  “Still can’t get a hold of him?” Lucy looks at me as I stare at my phone.

  “Disconnected,” I say, shaking my head. “I don’t know where Sawyer went. I wish he wasn’t avoiding me.”

  “We should have made contact before moving here. If we told him about my pregnancy, about Roman…”

  “I tried! The man is a ghost. No social media, unlisted phone number and address, nothing. The only way the private investigator found him was an article in the Woodvale local paper about a charity run he did with the garage.” I sigh, trying to contain my frustration. “I thought once we were here, he’d see…”

  “Once he comes back, he’ll understand. You know how he is—quick to anger but quicker to forgive if he’s in the wrong.” Lucy smiles at me, putting her hand on my arm.

  I force a smile back, but I’m not so sure. Sawyer is stubborn. He has ideals that aren’t always realistic, and he would rather die than bend his made-up rules. When I accepted the job at our father’s company to provide for Lucy and Roman, I think a part of our relationship died. I lost his respect, because I wasn’t acting the way he thought was right.

  He didn’t know about Lucy’s pregnancy, though.

  That has to change things. Doesn’t it?

  No matter what Sawyer thinks, I had to stay behind. I had to play the good daughter and use my parents’ support so I could provide for her. I had to help her finish high school, start college, and make sure Roman was safe and healthy.

  I had to. If I’d taken off with Sawyer, Lucy would have been on her own. How long would Lucy have suffered out in the cold if I hadn’t stayed?

  By now, sure, maybe Sawyer and I would have enough money to help her out. We wanted to build a business together. But that takes time—how much would she have suffered for the years in between?

  It’s all well and good to have principles and ideals and values—but the real world is the real world, and sometimes you need to do things you don’t like in order to survive.

  “What if he doesn’t forgive me?” I ask, finally voicing the fear that’s been plaguing me since Lucy and I decided to come to Woodvale.

  “He’s stubborn, not heartless,” Lucy says. “Plus, look at Roman’s face. How can he resist that amount of cuteness?”

  Roman, sitting on the floor playing with a toy truck, looks at us and smiles. My heart melts a tiny bit, just as it does every time I see my nephew.

  I nod. “You’re right.”

  “Maybe Benji knows where Sawyer is. Sawyer could have another phone. He might be staying at a friend’s place. This is a small town. Someone will know. You should ask Benji.”

  I stare at my sister, nodding. “Not a bad idea. He hasn’t been quite so hostile lately.”

  “You said he brought our plate back this morning.” She smiles.

  “Cleaned and polished.” I grin.

  “There you go.” Lucy nods encouragingly. Roman giggles, lifting one of his toys up toward her.

  I nod, standing up. “You’re right. I’m going over there. I’ll ask him if he knows anything about Sawyer. I’ll tell him I just want my brother to meet Roman.”

  “You want me to come?” Lucy stands up with me.

  I shake my head. “No. It’s nearly bath time. Then B-E-D.” I shift my eyes toward Roman, who soaks up all our words like a little sponge.

  Lucy smiles, squeezing my arm. “He’ll come back, Rae. And he’ll forgive you for staying behind. I know he will.”

  I give my sister a hug, hoping she’s right.

  Then, for the second time since I moved to Woodvale, I find myself walking the few blocks that separate Benji’s house from mine. This time, I’m not carrying a peace offering. I’m going to be asking him something that I know he doesn’t want to tell me.

  He’s loyal to Sawyer. It won’t be easy to convince him to tell me where my brother went, but I have to try. It’s my best hope at starting to mend my family.

  By the time I get to Benji’s house, sweat is gathering in my armpits, but not because it’s warm out. There’s a chill in the air, yet my body’s burning up.

  I’m nervous.

  Is it because I’m going to ask about Sawyer, or is it just Benji’s presence that does it to me? As I lift a trembling finger to ring the doorbell, I’m not quite sure of the answer. I shift my weight from foot to foot, listening for the heavy footsteps that will tell me Benji’s about to open the door.

  Silence.

  I sigh, closing my eyes, then open them back up and ring the doorbell again.

  “Rae?” Benji walks out of the garage to my right, wiping his hands on a rag. “You got more treats for me?” He smiles, but it drops when he sees my face. “What’s wrong?”

  I walk across the strip of grass that separates us until I’m just a couple of feet away from him. The smell of engine grease and sandalwood wraps around me, and it’s all I can do to stay upright.

  “I was hoping you could help me with something,” I say, my voice small.

  “Need some muscle?” he asks, grinning. His bicep bulges as he tenses it, and I can’t help but let out a shaky chuckle.

  “Not quite.” I suck a breath in, forcing myself to hold his gaze. “I need you tell me where Sawyer is.”

  Benji’s face turns to stone. Shuttered. Closed.

  No chance.

  My heart plummets.

  The mechanic shakes his head. “I can’t do that. I don’t know where he is for sure, and even if I did, it would be breaking every promise I made to him. He doesn’t want to talk to you.”

  “He doesn’t know about Roman, Benji,” I say, staring into his eyes and hoping he understands. “He left right after Lucy found out she was pregnant. I was going to
tell him in person, but when I tried to find him, he was gone. I just want him to meet his nephew.”

  Benji’s mask falls for just a moment as surprise paints itself over his features. He rearranges them, clearing his throat.

  “I can’t, Rae.” He shakes his head. “I just can’t. He’d never forgive me.”

  I pinch my lips, sighing. “That’s probably true. Take it from someone who knows.” I let out a bitter snort, and Benji’s shoulders soften. Glancing over my shoulder, I dread the walk back to my house. I don’t want to tell Lucy that this conversation failed, too.

  Benji must sense my reluctance, because he jerks his head toward the garage. “Mind helping me out for a few minutes? I could use a set of hands.”

  I know what he’s doing. He’s softening the blow of not telling me where Sawyer is. Telling me that he’s okay with my presence, and he doesn’t hate me as much as he did two weeks ago. Trying to extend that tattered, charred olive branch to make up for the fact that he’ll always be loyal to Sawyer.

  Taking a deep breath, I nod. “Sure.”

  “You can hold the flashlight. Think you can handle that?”

  “I’ve held lots of flashlights, thank you very much,” I snap.

  Benji’s eyes darken, an eyebrow teasing upward. Redness erupts over my cheeks as I realize what I’ve just said, then snap my mouth shut.

  “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

  “Don’t know what you’re talking about. I just asked you to hold a light for me.”

  I roll my eyes, but I can’t quite keep the smile off my face. Inhaling the air around Benji, I fall in step beside him and follow him into the garage. When I see an old, vintage car up on a set of blocks, I arch an eyebrow.

  “Is this what you do for fun, too? Don’t you think you should branch out? Diversify?”

  “I’m still waiting on those plants you promised,” he says, his back to me as he digs through a toolbox. “Maybe there’s a green thumb under all this grease.”