And oh God, she wished she could give him what he sought.
She walked stealthily along the hall to the guest room and quietly opened the door to peek in. The bed was empty, the quilt atop the mattress barely mussed. His weight was so slight now, he was already ceasing to make impressions on this world. As if his soul had already started its journey and all it needed was for his body to catch up.
Stepping into the room, she whipped her head from side to side, scanning the large, comfortable room for signs of him, terrified she might find him unconscious on the floor. But there was nothing. Panic stirred within, but she fought it down. Instead, she poked her head into the sleek adjoining bath, but he wasn’t there, either.
“I’m over here.”
His voice. Softer than it once had been, but still so smooth, so familiar.
She followed that voice as she had for so many months now and walked out onto the balcony overlooking the lake at the back of the house.
Justin sat on a white chair, his feet propped up on a low wicker table in front of him. “Pretty out here, isn’t it?”
“So it is,” she said, and took a long, deep breath of air sweetened by both ocean and lake. It reminded her of home. The green meadow that encircled the lake and the cool, still water that rippled with every breath of the autumn wind. “But you shouldn’t have come out here, Justin. At least not without a jacket or something.”
“I’m fine.” He reached up and took her hand, pulling gently at her until she sat on the floor beside him. His grip was so slight, his fingers so frail, she felt as though she were holding a wounded bird every time she touched him.
How could it have happened so fast? How did a strong, hearty, laughing man become this wraithlike creature in less than a year? And how would she ever live without him?
“I told you we shouldn’t have come,” he said, lifting his hand now to stroke her hair in long, tender caresses.
“He’s a hard man, your brother,” she muttered, leaning into him, just to have the comfort of his touch for as long as she could. “Are you sure you’re twins?” She shot him a wry look. “He might be a changeling.”
He laughed, then coughed, then gagged until his eyes watered and hers did, too, in sympathy. Then shaking his head, Justin said, “You’re not seeing Luke at his best. And that’s my fault. He has reasons. I told you.”
“Aye, you did. And I grant you, they’re powerful reasons.” Bridget stretched out her hand and smoothed his hair back from his forehead. “But Justin, you’re his family.”
He shook his head slowly. “We stopped being that to each other a long time ago.”
“Your Lucas is a hard man, but you’re hardheaded. so maybe that makes you equals, after all,” Bridget snapped, irritation surging inside her. “Talk to him, Justin. Explain.”
“He won’t listen.”
“Not if you don’t even try.”
For one instant, a flash of something hot and wild sparked in his dark eyes and then it was gone again. “I have tried. Lucas doesn’t want to hear it and I can’t blame him.”
“Well, I can.” She went up on her knees and focused her gaze on his. “You’re a fool if you’re willing to sit here and do nothing. You’ve come thousands of miles, Justin, to make this right. Will you stop now that you’re home?”
“Hey,” he complained, a spark of humor in his eyes, “don’t be mean to the dead guy.”
Dead.
She swallowed hard, forcing a knot of anger, pain, and fear down her throat to tangle in the pit of her stomach. “I hate it when you do that.”
“I was just—”
“Kidding, I know, yes.” She nodded and sank back to sit on her heels. “But the thing of it is, it isn’t funny. None of this is funny. Not to me.”
“I know,” he said softly, letting his head fall back to rest against the chair. “But damn, Bree. It is to me. The joke of the century.” Then he sighed and turned his head to look at her.
Love shone in his eyes and Bree wanted to cling to it. To etch this moment on her brain so that in the years to come, she’d have it to pull out and remember over and over again. And it wouldn’t be enough. She knew it would never be enough. She’d found love. She had his heart.
And she was losing him.
“Fine, then. If you won’t talk about Lucas, we’ll talk about the other.”
“God, you’re like a dog with a bone.”
“A beautiful dog, no doubt,” she said, frowning slightly.
“Oh yeah. At least a collie.”
“An Irish setter, I think,” she said, swinging her hair around to lie across her shoulders. “And you’re changing the subject.”
Now he frowned. “I’m ignoring the subject.”
The wind freshened, brushing past them both with a sigh.
“It won’t go away,” she said. “I won’t let it.”
He looked at her and smiled. “Wish I’d met you when I was alive. I think we’d have had some good times, Bree.”
“Stop talking like a dead man,” she snapped, hiding the fear that lurked inside with the brisk tone she always took with him when he started feeling down. “You’re not dead yet, you know.”
“I’m not going to let you marry a walking corpse.”
Her heart pinged slightly as that little dart hit home. “If you’re saying no because you’re worried about your blessed money, you can stop. I don’t want a thing from you but your name,” Bree said quietly. “Give me that along with your heart, Justin, and it will be everything.”
“Damn it, Bree, I know you don’t give a damn about the money and we’ve talked about this enough.”
“Not nearly enough, since I’ve yet to convince you.”
“Are all Irish as stubborn as you?”
“There’s the big black pot screaming at the kettle.”
He smiled but still said, “No.”
“Justin, you’re alive. And you’ll stay that way if I’ve anything to say about it.”
“Bree . . . not even you can win this one.”
She leaned in and kissed him, hard on the mouth, letting their lips linger together on a sigh of memory and regret. Then she pulled back and winked at him, leaving the familiar argument for the moment. She wouldn’t give up. Not on him. Not on them.
Not on what they had of the future.
But there would be other times. Other chances to convince him.
“Don’t you put money on that bet, Justin Gallagher.”
He studied her for a long, thoughtful minute, then his eyes flashed with something warm and lovely. “Okay. If you’re that set on it, I just won’t die.”
It was an old game now. One they played every week or two. When he felt bad and she felt closer to losing him. They’d say their parts, act out the roles, and each pretend to have consoled the other.
“Promise?” she asked, cupping his cheek in the palm of her hand.
“Promise,” he lied, and turned to plant a kiss in the heart of her hand.
Lucas drove to the small community hospital on autopilot. With the carrying tray of coffees resting on the seat beside him, he asked himself what the hell he was doing. He should be steering clear of Mike.
They’d taken a step last night that couldn’t be undone, but that was no reason for him to come riding in on a white horse. For him to give her the wrong idea. He was no errant knight out looking for damsels to rescue.
He had enough problems of his own. More, in fact, at the moment than he knew what to do with.
“So why’re you here?” he muttered, as he threw the gearshift into park and cut the engine.
It wasn’t just to avoid going back to the house that was no longer his. It wasn’t just because he thought she could use some coffee. It wasn’t even because he was feeling a little guilty about just dropping her off after first pissing her off.
“The plain damn truth is, I just want to know she’s okay.” Man. Somebody shoot him now.
He got out of the car, reached back in for the tr
ay stacked unevenly with five drinks. Four on the corners for the ladies and one in the center for him. Now if he could just find them.
But just as he thought it, he spotted Mike storming out of the hospital and crossing to where an obviously irritated brunette was kicking a trash can.
By the time he was close enough to hear them, Lucas knew he was walking into a combat zone.
“Damn it, Jo, if I thought it would do any good at all, I’d help you kick the damn trash can into San Jose. But it won’t change anything.”
“Who says I’m trying to change something? Maybe I’m just so pissed I can’t see straight.” She glared at Mike. “And who the hell are you, anyway? And what did you do with my sister Mike? Because if she were here, she’d have beat me to the kicking.”
“You’re a pain in the ass, you know it?” Mike sniffed and wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands.
“Like I’ve never heard that before,” Jo muttered, and suddenly noticing they weren’t alone, she spun around, nailed Lucas with a glare, and demanded, “What the hell do you want?”
“To live.” And he backed up a step, just in case.
“Lucas?” Mike looked at him as if she couldn’t really believe he was there. Then pleasure drifted into irritation and her pale blue eyes fired off a few sparks. “This isn’t a good time.”
“Yeah, I’m getting that.” He ignored the death stare that both women were firing at him and held up the tray, like a fanatic offering up his firstborn child to the Sun God. “I brought coffee.”
Instantly, some of the tension drained away and Jo’s defensive posture relaxed a bit from combat ready. She blew out a breath. “Thanks. That was nice of you.”
Mike looked at her sister, then back at Lucas. “Wow. A miracle. You hardly know her and you defused Nuclear Jo in your first try.”
“Pay no attention to her,” Jo snapped, stepping forward to take the tray from him. “I’m not the pain in the ass in the family. That’s her job. Damn good at it, too. Usually.”
“Suck coffee, Jo.”
“Plan to.”
“Wait.” Lucas stopped her when she turned away. “Middle one’s mine.” He snatched it.
“I suppose the whipped-cream-and-caramel-topped froufrou drink is for Grace?”
Mike pulled one of the other cups out of the tray and nodded. “She loves those frothy, sweet drinks.”
“Jesus,” Jo muttered. “I’d be too embarrassed to order one.” She sighed heavily and looked at Mike. “But I’ll take it to her. Make nice.”
Mike smiled tightly. “That’s a good mad dog. Good girl.”
“Bite me,” Jo said on a choked laugh, then tossed Lucas another look. “Seriously. Thanks for this. Appreciate it.”
“No problem.” He watched her stalk toward the double doors, then looked down at Mike standing beside him. “Do you want to go back in?”
“God no.” She shook her head and started for the low concrete wall along the edge of the parking lot. “Come on. Sit with me for a while.”
Lucas frowned slightly, but followed her. He hadn’t really meant to stay, but how could he leave her out here all alone? Her sister looked psychotic—or at least borderline—and Mike’s eyes were still shadowed.
Surprised the hell out of him just how much that bothered him.
Neatly tended grass bordered the retaining wall and the wind scuttled in from the ocean to wrap itself around them in a cold embrace.
Mike perched on the wall, then patted a spot beside her.
He sat down and took a gulp of coffee before asking, “Bad day?”
Mike blinked at him, then laughed.
He hadn’t expected that.
But the laughter sounded way too close to the edge of hysteria for comfort. Instinctively, he reached out and laid one hand on her knee. “Mike?”
“Sorry.” She pulled in breath after breath, in an attempt to steady herself. “It was just the ‘bad day’ thing. Oh man, Lucas, when days go to hell, they go fast.”
“Tell me about it,” he muttered, thinking of his own set of problems waiting for him in his brand-new house.
Mike, though, took him at his word.
She launched into an explanation of everything that had been going on at the hospital since he left her there. He watched her eyes fill, spill over, and fill again. He watched her mouth flatten, curve, then firm into an unforgiving slash. He heard the catch in her voice and the tear in her heart as she finished. And everything in him wanted to comfort her.
But what the hell could he possibly say?
Mike sighed. “Jo’s kicking inanimate objects, Sam’s beating her breast like some chained martyr waiting for the dragon, and Grace is running around clucking her tongue.”
“And what’re you doing?”
“You mean besides talking your ear off?” She took a long sip of her coffee, then wrapped the cup between her cupped palms. “I don’t even know. I mean, I feel like Jo, you know? I want to punch something until my hand hurts. But what am I supposed to hit? The trash can? Yeah, that helped. This boy?” She shook her head and her blond hair lifted and danced about her face in the wind. “Oh God, Papa has a son and he’s coming here.”
“I don’t know what to say to you,” Lucas said softly.
She lifted one shoulder in a shrug and sniffed. “Me, neither. And I always know what to say. Now, I don’t even know what to feel.”
Lifting one hand, she pushed her hair back from her face and admitted, “I don’t even want to go home. Not that I could leave while Papa’s . . . but later, I mean, tonight. I can’t go back home. It’s too empty. Papa’s not there.” She took another drink. “I should have rented Stevie’s place,” she muttered, more to herself than to Lucas. “Thought about it. Stupid to not just do it. Then I’d have my own place and it wouldn’t feel empty because I’d be used to being alone and—”
The very thing he was craving, Lucas thought—solitude—was the one thing Mike was trying to avoid. The irony wasn’t lost on him. The suggestion that popped out of his mouth, though, surprised them both.
“Come home with me,” he said suddenly.
“What?”
He couldn’t believe he was saying this, but it felt right. “You don’t want to be alone. So don’t.”
She shook her head, even though she looked as though she were considering it. “Might not be such a great idea after last night—”
“We don’t have to do that again.”
She took a sip of coffee and paused a moment before asking, “But what if we want to do it again?”
His body lit up like a power plant—despite everything. “Then we’ll decide.”
“Lucas, you like being alone in that house.”
“Yeah, I do, but I’m not now anyway, so—”
“Whoa. Back up. Rewind and hit play again. What do you mean you’re not alone now anyway?”
He shifted his gaze from hers, squinted into the distance, and said, “My . . . brother. Justin and his girlfriend are there.” He scowled and added, “They were waiting at the house for me when I got there this morning.”
“Wow.” She snorted. “So. We both got surprise brothers today.”
He glanced back at her and actually smiled about the subject of Justin for the first time. How weird was that?
“Karmically speaking,” she mused, “what were the odds?”
“As a scientist,” he said, still smiling, because how could he help it when looking into her eyes? “I can tell you they’re damn high.”
Her lips curved. “Very scientific of you.”
“Hey, I’m a genius.”
“And humble.”
“Goes without saying.”
“Thanks.”
“For what?”
“For making me smile today when I didn’t think I’d be able to. When I was wondering if I ever would again.”
“Same goes.”
Mike shivered and took another long drink of coffee, enjoying the spill of warmth rushing through he
r. It wouldn’t last. Wouldn’t do anything to get rid of the bone-deep cold that had settled around her heart. But at the moment, she was grateful for any warmth at all.
And oh God, she was grateful for Lucas.
They hadn’t exactly parted on the best of terms a few hours ago, but right now, he was looking like her only safe harbor in a really choppy sea.
“If you were serious about that offer,” she said, watching his eyes carefully, “I accept.”
“Good.”
She’d worry about what this might mean, what this might change between them, later. Right now, it was enough to know that she wouldn’t have to be alone tonight. Or tomorrow.
“Mike?”
Her head whipped around and she spotted her sister stepping around the corner of the hospital. She stood up slowly, as if braced for another blow. Lucas rose to take up a spot beside her. She didn’t even see him move. He was just suddenly, simply, there.
“What is it, Sam?” Mike asked. “Is it Papa?”
“No. Sorry. Shouldn’t have scared you.” She pursed her lips, then chewed on them for a second or two before adding, “They’re here. Jack. And his mother.”
“Oh God. Okay. I’m coming.”
Sam went back the way she’d come and Mike grabbed hold of her coffee cup and clung to it as if it were a life preserver and she was going down for the third time. Then she shifted a glance at Lucas. “It’s him. The new little brother.”
“I’ll go with you.”
She smiled. “Was kind of hoping you’d say that.”
They rounded the building, and Mike felt him just a step or two behind her. Funny. This morning when he dropped her off at the hospital, she never would have guessed that he’d be back here now, offering support.
And boy howdy did she need it.
Her gaze locked on a tall woman in gray wool slacks and a soft yellow shirt. Her short, dark blond hair was stylishly cut to chin length and she was carrying a Prada bag to match her truly great shoes.
She wasn’t pretty, in the traditional sense. Her features had too much character for that. Strong nose, wide mouth, high cheekbones. She was attractive, though, almost exotic looking. But Mike quickly lost interest in the woman her father had cheated with so many years ago. Instead, she focused her gaze on the boy looking up at Sam as she introduced herself.
A Crazy Kind of Love Page 17