The tang of orange juice and champagne slipped down her throat but failed to ease the sick feeling in her stomach. She was here to support Journey and Ty, to celebrate with them as they moved into the next phase of their life. She just wished she could do so without Aiden’s offer constantly churning in her mind.
Six days had come and gone since her dinner with him, but her restlessness had only grown. The promise of hope had magnified every other emotion. Her anger blazed with more intensity, her regret felt more debilitating, and worse, a gnawing twitch remained at the back of her neck warning that she was missing some critical piece of information.
With a final swallow, she finished her drink, replaced her empty glass for a fresh one, and stepped away from the buffet. She should try and eat something, but the sense of foreboding wouldn’t go away. She found herself searching the room, in corners, past groups of suited suck-ups, only to pause when Beck came into view.
Dressed in his usual blue suit, red power tie, and polished black shoes, adult Beck was a far cry from the college version who used to stroll in wearing jeans, a loose tie, and a baseball cap just to prove to everyone he was unique. Back then he would have found her first, wrapped an arm around her shoulder and told her some joke that would inevitably lead to an eye roll and admonishment for a lack of class. Now, he rarely looked in her direction.
A familiar loss seeped into her chest. He hadn’t forgiven her for the events that took place the night she’d kicked Sean out, and she couldn’t blame him. She’d been desperate, and Beck had been a willing—albeit uninformed—accomplice.
Their relationship then began a slow dissolve. Beck tried to comfort her, tried to be the friend he’d always been, while she pushed him away as forcefully as she had Sean. It only took two months for Beck to realize he’d been played, that April not only didn’t need his care, but also resented him for it. She became as unavailable as Sean, and left Beck with nothing but questions and bitterness.
She shouldn’t care that he no longer sought her out. Duncans were trained to detach from pain, to accept collateral damage. Ruining friendships shouldn’t matter. And yet, as she’d watched Beck suffer these last ten months, she’d been blasted with the agonizing sting of remorse.
He stood within a small circle. No one she recognized, and by the way Beck’s dimple barely appeared, she’d guess he didn’t know either man too well either. On closer inspection, her friend looked trapped, miserable actually, and she found herself moving forward, intent to rescue him.
The two men stopped talking the minute she slipped her hand around Beck’s jacket-clad elbow. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but can I steal Beck away for one second?”
The older gentleman both smiled and nodded, returning to their conversation before she and Beck cleared the circle.
“I was in the middle of a deal,” he grumbled, pulling his arm away from her touch.
“No you weren’t. You were bored out of your mind and most likely listening to some story from 1950.” He shot her a sideways glance and she knew she’d pegged it right. “I thought you’d appreciate the rescue.”
“From you? No.” Beck shoved his hands into his pockets and rolled his neck. Once again, he’d grown agitated and fidgety the minute she came near.
“What did I do this time?”
“You brought Caroline here just to mess with me.”
April followed his line of sight to the petite brunette sitting alone at their table. Caroline had started working for Beck’s father a few months ago and had caused quite a stir in their little group. “I’ll take credit where it’s due, but her being here is all Ty.”
Beck mumbled something that sounded like figures and shook his head.
April studied him closer. This was the third time she’d seen Beck lose his cool when Caroline was around. “Why does she bother you so much?”
“You know why. You were there.”
Ah yes. The awkward kiss they’d witnessed between Caroline and Ty at the art festival. “Ty and Caroline have both explained what happened.”
He shrugged, and she shook her head, knowing it was no use to keep discussing it. More than anyone, she and Beck were the most alike. They held onto their pride, refused to forgive when someone hurt them, and avoided talking about anything that might expose a flicker of emotion.
It was the reason they’d never discussed what happened the night she begged him to meet Sean at the condo. Ignoring each other and pretending seemed far easier, although that was becoming less and less true.
She missed her old friend. Missed their late night talks when she’d randomly show up at his house. He’d always let her in, usually feeding her sometime during the visit. It was in those moments they were the most honest with themselves, neither pushing or judging. No expectation, just absolute understanding. Until the night she’d forever damaged their closeness by lying to him.
“Is this how it’s going to be between us now, Beck? Because I thought we made progress the other day?” They’d come together to help Journey and Ty, pushed past the months of resentment and functioned as friends. Maybe it was too much to hope it would continue.
He didn’t even flinch at her suggestion. “A few cordial encounters doesn’t erase the past.”
And that was what she got for trying. Very well. She could do cold as well as anyone. “Of course it doesn’t. My mistake.”
That time Beck met her eyes and had the courtesy to look a little remorseful. It didn’t last long as his attention was quickly stolen by the sudden appearance of his real estate agent.
April observed the woman who chose to wear a skintight, backless cocktail dress that was completely inappropriate for Sunday brunch and rolled her eyes. Stella had been digging for gold down Beck’s pocket since he’d closed on his house three years ago, and for some reason he kept letting her. “And just when I thought you might have developed taste.”
Beck flaunted the cocky grin that most girls swooned over. Right now that particular feature made her want to punch him.
“If you’ll excuse me, my date is here,” he said.
“Did you call her before or after Caroline showed up?”
Beck didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to. His face held the same game on expression it used to when he’d played football with Sean.
Annoyed by their encounter, April took her own trek in the opposite direction, toward the table they’d commandeered since childhood. She pulled out one of the plush upholstered chairs and sat down across from Caroline.
The girl held unfamiliar territory for April. She wasn’t easily decipherable, although her current fixation on Beck’s date left little to interpret.
“Stella is Beck’s real estate agent,” she said.
Caroline snapped her head away from the couple. “I’m sorry?”
“The eye candy on Beck’s arm.” April lifted her chin toward the girl in cling wrap. “She’s only here as a statement.” One that April guessed was one hundred percent for Caroline. “I’m telling you this because you look a little concerned.” A massive understatement. The girl looked sick with jealousy.
“I do? No, not at all.” She shifted in her seat too much to be telling the whole truth. “It’s just hard not to notice such a beautiful woman.”
“A beautiful barracuda is more like it,” April snorted, but grinned when Caroline let a chuckle escape.
Chairs scraped across from the table and she sat back, watching Ty and Journey with mild satisfaction. Her two best friends had come out of a long, dark tunnel, but they were finally on their way to being truly happy. An emotion so foreign she’d almost forgotten what it felt like.
“Sorry we abandoned you,” Ty said to Caroline. “Everyone keeps pulling us aside to congratulate us.” He scooted his chair forward, holding his tie close to his chest. His white shirt and gray slacks were sharp and ironed, and since Ty usually kept two outfits on rotation for brunch, his fancy get up was undoubtedly the work of his new fiancé. “They have no respect for a starvin
g man.”
“Or a starving woman.” Journey smiled at April, but she could see the pity in her perpetually kind blue eyes. Journey had been walking on crushed egg shells since Ty’s proposal, and it seemed no matter how many times April assured her that she was thrilled for the duo, the sympathetic pauses and stares only escalated.
A phenomenon that needed to stop. April was growing weary of Journey’s incessant need to handle her like a fragile broken doll. She was a Duncan. Breaking was not in the family genetics.
“Did you expect anything less, allowing Anne Marie to make that kind of announcement at brunch?” She’d meant for the question to be in good humor, but it came out cold and snarky. A common miscalculation.
“Oh, I know what they expected,” a humor-filled voice said from behind her. “Gifts. Lots and lots of gifts.”
She turned quickly, immediately recognizing the source, and forced herself not to stand and pull her brother in for a tight hug. The action would be as shocking for him as it would be for her. But seeing him brought an innate relief. Like her, Andrew resembled their father with his dark hair carefully styled and in a suit tailored to fit his long lean frame.
“I thought you had to work today,” she said. Andrew had been her one ally when her parents cut her off. The one person who knew exactly what it felt like to lose your future and family in the same day.
“I did, but I switched my shift.” He sat, adjusting his chair close enough that they could speak without an audience. “I thought you might need me here.”
“Why would I…” He raised a knowing eyebrow and she nearly growled. “As I assured you on the phone, I’m fine. The twenty seventh came and went with no major damage.”
“We’ll see about that after brunch is over.” His hand fidgeted with the spoon, which made her gaze narrow on him further. Andrew ran a crew of firemen, led men every day into dangerous situations. Nothing shook him… normally.
Maybe he’d gotten the same offer she had. “Did Aiden call you too?”
“Aiden?” The word came out like he’d eaten a sour grape. “No. Why would Aiden be calling you?”
She thought about it—telling him that she’d been offered a second chance. A way back into the family with minimal sacrifice—but the words stalled in her throat. “He wanted to check in.”
Andrew snorted. “Sure he did.”
“What’s with the attitude? You two used to be best friends.”
“Yeah, when we were kids. Now he’s another one of Dad’s lackeys.” He returned to his food, his voice oddly curt. Unlike the rest of their family, Andrew was usually warm and lighthearted. He knew how to play the rules; he just didn’t bother with them. She resented his ability to blow off their parents’ impossible expectations as much as she admired it.
His hand covered hers, the contact making her jump. Affection was not just uncommon for a Duncan, it was nonexistent. She searched his face, trying to decipher her brother’s odd behavior. “What’s wrong with you today?”
The warmth disappeared. “You need to know I’m doing this because I care.”
Foreboding roared through her. “Andrew, you aren’t making any sense.”
He took two more careful bites, then set down his fork to address the rest of the table. “You know what I was thinking about last week? That time when Beck and Sean snuck in here and replaced all the silver with paper products and the glasses with silo cups.”
“Oh my gosh, that’s right!” Journey gasped, her long blond hair whipping around when she turned to give Andrew her full attention. “We were what, like ten?”
April felt every inch of her heat up. What was he doing? Andrew knew she didn’t like reminiscing, especially about Sean. But she remained silent, impassive. A well-trained statue.
“I’ve never heard this one.” Ty straightened, his expression as eager as a toddler’s at story time.
“Oh it’s good,” Andrew said. “After they were caught, Beck’s dad made them stand in front of the whole room that next week and apologize. In suits, mind you.”
Beck suddenly appeared at the end of their table, Stella right there beside him. “Who was in suits?”
“You and Sean. After the great paper goods debacle,” Andrew said.
Beck grinned, but no dimples appeared. “Ah yes. My thwarted rebellion. Sean got off with a stiff warning from his parents, while Dad made me set the tables here for two weeks, just to give me a glimpse of what hard work feels like.”
Stella nestled closer, obviously feeling left out. “Well, it seems your dad knows best.” More sickening was that Beck let her feel up his chest, right there. “Look how well you turned out.”
April couldn’t stand it any longer. She turned her head and made a gagging face only Caroline could see. Caroline ducked her chin but the laughter still escaped. It was a nice sound. Light and authentic. Few people had a laugh that didn’t grate on her nerves. Plus, Caroline wasn’t treating her like she needed to be coddled.
Andrew stood and raised his glass “On that note, I propose a toast.”
April froze, her heart a rapid pound against her chest.
Sean had always made the toasts. Not because he was their leader—that spot was owned by Beck—or even that he was the most loved in the group, Journey held that position.
Sean was their glue. Their compass. Her shining example of a pure heart. Until that veil had been violently ripped from her eyes.
The tingles that had been sparking against her skin were now radiating through every pore. Andrew’s behavior wasn’t random. Every word had been premeditated in the worst possible way.
The last time their group had lifted their glasses in solidarity was on Beck’s birthday. Eight days before Sean’s deception was revealed.
“To the Bentwood Brats, all grown up and still impossible to handle,” he said loud enough to be heard across the dining room.
She scanned the table, her sixth sense screaming that something very very bad was about to happen.
Andrew was stone, his poker face completely indecipherable.
Ty and Journey were far easier to read. They exchanged a concerned glance, a private communication that April would have interpreted as guilt if they hadn’t seemed so surprised.
Beck pulled in a labored breath as if the air had been knocked from his lungs.
Whatever bomb Andrew was intending to drop, her friends were innocent of it. Not that it brought her any relief. Andrew knew her too well. He knew all her defenseless places.
His identical green eyes bore down into hers. “Come on, sis, aren’t you going to toast with me?”
“Stop it,” she hissed. “No one wants to do this.” But the words came too late.
Ty had lifted his glass, a motion of remembrance for Sean, and she suddenly wanted to yell, “traitor!” across the table. At least Journey respected her enough to look uncomfortable, but not enough to keep her hand pinned to the table. Like her fiancé, she reluctantly lifted her flute.
April focused desperately on Beck. He stood unmoving, cheeks flushed, eyes locked on the glass in his hand. The glass he thankfully hadn’t lifted.
But then she saw it, the twitch of his hand as he followed the actions of his friends.
No, she screamed to herself as if the joining of their glasses was equivalent to calling upon the dead. She’d spent the last ten months trying to move on, and every clink was a fracture in the stone encapsulating her heart.
Then it was no longer about the glasses lifted or the tinging of crystal, because she saw the moment their expressions shifted from memory to shocked recognition.
The room stilled to a haunting, hollow silence.
Her season of hiding had come to an end. She knew it, even before she heard Sean’s dark, gravelly voice cut through the air, “Come on guys, you all know I’m the one who’s supposed to give the toasts!”
Chapter 6
The entire table turned and stared. He knew what they saw—a ghost, a memory of the person who sat at that very tab
le every week since he was ten years old, a man who ran because he couldn’t take the pain of staying and fighting.
But it didn’t matter what they all saw, only what she saw. And he’d show her he had no intention of walking away this time.
Her face had gone ashen white, and in her shock, she had no time to hide the fear in her eyes when he’d focused entirely on her.
That’s right, Jelly Bean. I’m back and now you have to deal with me.
Sweat beaded against his neck, adrenaline spiking so high it rivaled the Big 12 conference championship his Junior year. He dared her to move, to do anything but sit there engaged in a staring match neither of them were willing to end.
“Sean!” Journey’s lone cry awakened the rest of the group, including April who immediately whipped her fury to her brother at her side.
Commotion erupted, chairs grinding the wood, utensils clattering against the fine china. Journey plowed into his arms, the sweet smell of honey wrapping around him. He held on tighter than usual, needing the familiarity of encouragement she offered more than he realized. She was the closest thing to a sister he’d ever had, and right now he needed something to keep him from hauling April over his shoulder just so he could prove that the glimpse of longing he’d caught in her gaze was real.
“You took the job?” Journey leaned back as if to make sure he was really the one hugging her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Hey Journey, I took the job.”
“Not funny.” Tears pooled in her blue eyes as she smacked his arm, then pulled him back. “I’ve missed you so much.”
He tucked his nose into her hair. “I missed you too. Sorry I’ve been gone so long.”
“Hey, hey, get your paws off my fiancé.” Ty’s hand encircled his bicep, pulling him out of the embrace. He winked at Journey and then hugged Sean as tight as a soldier coming home from war. Not too far off. New Braunfels had been his own personal battlefield, the darkest months of his life.
“It’s about time, brother,” Ty said, no longer joking. “Way past time.”
The Truth Between Us (Bentwood Book 2) Page 4