“Yes,” Karen answered, wrapping an arm around Gabby’s shoulder. “We were just talking about . . .”
Jenny wanted to ignore the silent plea in the woman’s eyes but couldn’t deny that Owen’s mother had done what she thought was right. Even if it was so very wrong.
“My mom,” Jenny finished. “She has Alzheimer’s, which has progressed quickly over the past year. She lives in a nursing home now.” She paused, allowing the emotion she felt toward the situation with the Daltons to seep into her voice. “It’s been difficult.”
“I’m sorry,” Gabby said.
“We’re managing,” Jenny said, “and Owen is a big help.” She clapped a hand to her mouth as Gabby shot her an incredulous look. It probably seemed like Jenny was laying it on too thick, but the truth was, having Owen in her life these past few weeks had made everything seem easier. Better. Right.
“We should probably get to the shower,” she said quickly, taking her empty mug to the sink so she didn’t have to look either Karen or Gabby in the eye. “I don’t know Kristin well, but I’m guessing she won’t appreciate anyone being late.”
Gabby chuckled. “She won’t appreciate anyone, period.”
“Gabrielle,” her mother scolded, “be nice.”
“Doing my best, Mom.”
Karen gave Jenny’s arm a squeeze as they walked to Gabby’s Jeep. “Please.”
“I won’t say anything until after the wedding,” Jenny told the woman, compelled to make the promise because of how the news would rock Owen. “But he needs to know.”
Karen gave a tight nod. “We’ll find a good time to talk to him.”
Jenny wasn’t sure how she would keep this secret from Owen or if it was the right thing to do. She tried to tell herself that she’d done her part by confronting Karen. She and Owen would go their separate ways after this week, and it would no longer be her problem. That thought only made her chest ache harder.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Owen knew Jenny had made the comment about not going after his brother with a golf club as a joke, but he was sorely tempted by the time they returned to his parents’ house.
“Is Mom back yet?” Cooper asked as he carried Hank’s clubs toward the garage. Somewhere during the round of golf, the boy and Owen’s father had become great friends. Hank had patiently shown Cooper how to set up a shot, explained when different clubs were used, and taught him the art of putting. “I want to show her my swing.”
Jack had made a couple of asshole remarks about Cooper’s lack of hand-eye coordination. They were subtle, mostly centered around how Owen would be the perfect role model for the boy since they had so much in common. Cooper seemed to take the comments as compliments, making Owen’s affection for him grow exponentially.
To Owen’s surprise, Hank had been the one to shut down Jack’s veiled attack. Jack had seemed shocked, clearly unused to any kind of reprimand from their father. He’d gone into good ol’ boy mode, with a few overly enthusiastic back slaps and guffaws to play off the whole thing. But Owen had seen the way his brother’s grip tightened on the shaft of the golf club, and he’d missed an easy two-foot putt on the sixteenth green.
Gabby and Jenny were in the kitchen listening to Kristin have what appeared to be a full-blown meltdown, sobbing about the color of the bridesmaid dresses. “They’re supposed to be a beautiful shade of apricot,” she said by way of explanation, “and instead the color is bright orange.” She let out a little whimper and added, “Like Jenny’s hair.”
Jenny rolled her eyes when Owen met her gaze across the kitchen, even as she awkwardly patted Kristin on the shoulder.
Seeing the two women seated next to each other, opposites in almost every way, Owen wondered what had ever attracted him to Kristin. Had she always been shallow and narcissistic, or was that the role she’d taken on to make herself the perfect complement for his sanctimonious brother?
“Babe,” Jack drawled as he took a can of beer out of their parents’ fridge, “pull it together. Who gives a shit what color the bridesmaids are wearing?”
Kristin slammed her palms to the table. “I do,” she cried. “It matters to me, Jack, so it should be important to you, too. This wedding is going to be the talk of Hastings for years, and I want it to be perfect. Orange isn’t perfect.” Her watery gaze shot to Jenny. “No offense.”
Jenny raised an eyebrow in response.
Jack popped the top on his beer and took a long swig. “We run this town,” he assured his bride-to-be. “People won’t even notice the bridesmaids once you walk down the aisle. Trust me, the wedding is going to be killer.”
Killer. That was one way to describe the joining of two people for the rest of their lives.
“How are your wedding plans, Jenny?” Gabby asked sweetly, and Owen inwardly cringed. Both Jack and Kristin looked at his sister as if she’d just thrown a giant pile of dog poop onto the middle of the tile floor.
Jenny shot a fierce glare across the table, which made Owen want to grin. Maybe it was the red hair, but Jenny was damn cute when she was pissed—at least when the anger was directed at someone besides him.
“This week isn’t about Owen and me,” Jenny answered. “I wouldn’t want to steal any spotlight away from Kristin.”
“But I’m sure,” Gabby continued, refusing to be deterred, “with Owen’s millions . . .” She tapped a finger on her chin. “Or is it billions now? Where exactly are you on the Forbes, Owen?”
“He’s number fifteen,” Cooper offered, walking into the room followed by Hank.
Owen was embarrassed to feel color rising to his cheeks as his dad and brother stared at him. They knew he was wealthy, but it was an unwritten rule in the Dalton house that no one discussed the extent of his financial success.
“Good to know,” Gabby murmured. “Anyway, I’m sure with all that money, your wedding is going to be a spectacle.”
“True love isn’t about money.” Jenny’s voice was low and sure. “When you marry the right person, it doesn’t matter if it happens in a cathedral or . . .” She darted a glance at Owen’s father. “At the county courthouse.”
Her words seemed to placate Kristin, who moments earlier had looked ready to launch across the kitchen and claw out Gabby’s eyes. Now she turned sweetly to Jack. “I love you, schmoop.”
“I love you right back, honeybun.”
Suppressing a gag, Owen crossed the kitchen and wrapped a hand around the back of Jenny’s neck, massaging gently.
She glanced up at him and said through her teeth, “If you call me pookie right now I’m going to elbow you in the nuts.”
He bent and kissed the top of her head, letting the scent of her soothe all the things that had been put on edge this morning.
“She’s a keeper,” Hank called from across the room. “Plus you get an awesome kid as a bonus.”
He felt rather than saw Jenny’s flinch. Cooper was beaming from Hank’s side and Owen worried that the boy had forgotten this was all pretend. Cooper would earn a beach vacation, but nothing more.
Regret twisted Owen’s gut. Had it been stupid to begin this farce in the first place? Or was he simply off-kilter from watching his father bond with Cooper, who was similar to Owen in so many ways? All Owen ever wanted from his father were some crumbs of kindness, and there he was handing Cooper the whole cake. Was he seriously jealous of a fatherless twelve-year-old boy? Christ, he needed to get a handle on himself. Cooper was a great kid, and Owen was glad his dad recognized that fact.
“I’m a lucky man,” he answered. “But we should get back to the house. I have a couple of hours of work to do.”
“You’re still going to make the bridal party dinner at the Red Hornet tonight?” Kristin asked. “Everyone will be there.”
“I’m not sure my presence is necessary,” Owen answered, “given that I’m not part of the bridal party.”
He saw something like satisfaction flash in Jack’s gaze. What the hell was that about? It wasn’t enough that his brother
had been the golden child of their family. Was he purposely trying to humiliate Owen even when the wedding made Jack the undisputed center of attention?
Kristin’s glossy pink lips turned down at the edges. “But I want you there. Everyone has to see there are no hard feelings even though . . .” She shifted, her eyes dropping to the floor. Even Jack had the good sense to look away.
“Even though you dumped me for my brother,” Owen finished for her.
Jenny jumped up from the chair and pressed against his side. “Of course we’ll be there,” she said with the conviction of a soldier going into battle. “Kristin, I’m going to buy you the biggest JKrita they can make as a thank-you.”
“Thank me for what?”
“For letting Owen go so that I could find him.” She reached up on tiptoe and gently grazed her lips over his jaw. “I’m not sure what I would have done if he’d been taken when we met.” She turned to grin at Kristin. “It probably would have involved me clawing your eyes out.”
“Good one, Mom,” Cooper shouted, then flushed when all eyes turned to him. “I mean, I’m super lucky to have Owen, too.”
“Sure,” Kristin said, but her smug smile dimmed as she looked between Jenny and Owen. “I only drink skinny-ritas. Just so you know.”
“Duly noted,” Jenny answered. “We can stay for one round. I don’t want Cooper to be on his own for too long.”
“He can spend the night here with Karen and me,” Hank said. “We’ve got no plans, and the Reds are playing.”
Owen cleared his throat. “Cooper doesn’t like—”
“That sounds awesome,” Cooper said. “We’ll work on my throw during commercials. Right, Hank?”
“You bet, buddy. If your mom says it’s okay.”
“Sure,” Jenny said, her voice sounding thick. “Are you sure you don’t mind, Hank?”
“Things are too quiet around here,” Owen’s father said with a broad grin. “It’ll be good to have a boy in the house again.”
“Can I show you my golf swing before we leave?” Cooper asked Jenny.
“You’ll be impressed,” Hank told her. “He’s a natural.”
Jack let out a little snort, prompting Hank and Jenny to shoot him the same warning glare.
“Let’s check it out,” Jenny said, and walked forward to place a hand on her son’s shoulder. They disappeared through the door to the garage, Cooper talking animatedly about the principles of golf that Hank had explained.
Before following them, Owen caught Hank’s gaze on him, filled with what looked to be a silent apology. As if his father was trying to mend fences with Owen through his kindness to Cooper.
Some of the bitterness he’d always held on to, as a toddler might cradle a favorite stuffed animal, started to disappear, and Owen cursed himself as ten times the pansy-assed fool. Hank’s obvious affection for the boy had nothing to do with his constant disappointment in Owen.
“Later, bro,” Jack said as Owen walked by, throwing a punch that seemed a little too enthusiastic.
Owen sidestepped the blow, the way he wished he’d been able to do as a boy.
“See you tonight,” he said without stopping.
Although Cooper appeared to be taking everything that was happening this week in stride, Jenny was still concerned about him getting too attached to the Daltons.
How could she blame him when she felt far too connected to Owen? She broached the subject before they left for Hank and Karen’s, both of them lying on her bed and talking the way they used to when he was younger.
“It’s like when Aidan and I are playing Magik of Myth. We get so into it that the game starts to feel real, like we’re really heroes. When the bad guys are closing in, my heartbeat starts to race and my palms get all sticky.”
Well, that pretty much described Jenny every time Owen looked at her. It seemed a lot simpler to believe she was in some alternate video-game universe.
“Then you call me for dinner. We turn it off and it’s over.” Her wise-beyond-his-years son sighed. “That’s how this will be unless . . .” He lifted his bare feet into the air and wiggled his toes. “Unless you and Owen decide to stay together. Like maybe he’ll fall in love with you.”
Like maybe there was a snowball’s chance in hell of that happening.
“Owen helped me the night of the reunion,” she told Cooper, proud that her voice didn’t waver despite her tumbling emotions. “Now I’m returning the favor. He doesn’t love me.”
Cooper dropped his feet back to the mattress and they both bounced slightly. “Do you love him?”
“This is going to end,” she said instead of answering the question. How else could she respond to a question her mind refused to consider, even when her heart already knew the answer? “It’s make-believe, buddy.”
His voice went soft. “All of it?”
“Not the part where Hank and Karen really care about you. You’re an easy kid to like.”
“Don’t tell Karen,” he said casually, “but her cookies aren’t as good as Grandma’s.”
Emotion welled in Jenny’s throat at that unsolicited bit of loyalty toward her mother. How she wished Mona was mentally capable of seeing Jenny through this conundrum of her feelings for Owen and the secret she now carried regarding his parents. Her mom was always thoughtful and levelheaded. Jenny figured she’d inherited her temper and impulsiveness from her father.
What did Owen inherit from his biological father? Didn’t he have a right to know where he came from?
It was all too much to consider, and she tipped her head close to Cooper’s. “No one makes cookies like your grandma.”
“Yours come in second,” her son answered, and his steadfast faithfulness made her heart ache.
As strange as the circumstances were, these past few days away from the stress and relentless scrambling to keep her life on track had turned out to be a gift. When was the last time she’d had a few minutes to just visit with her son? He was no longer a little kid, and it was even more important to keep their connection strong over the next several years.
What if she could give him everything she’d never had?
A life without worrying about money and where he fit in the world.
A family that was whole.
The thought was almost too much for her heart to carry, and with a last kiss on his forehead, she climbed off the bed with the excuse of needing to shower and get ready for the evening.
An hour later, she and Owen pulled up in front of the Red Hornet bar and grill, located around the corner from Hastings’s charming main street. Turn-of-the-century architecture and historic buildings were home to a variety of mom-and-pop shops that looked like they’d been handed down within the same families for generations. There were also a few artsy boutiques and a number of trendy-looking restaurants on either side of the tree-lined street.
The building looked like something out of an old-school movie about life in a stereotypical small town. At any moment she expected to see a young Kevin Bacon roaring through the streets in a beat-up pickup, the people milling on the sidewalks on this summer night breaking into song and dance.
“My family likes you and Cooper better than they like me,” Owen said as he opened Jenny’s car door, bringing her back to the present moment.
Although purple and pink streaks were just starting to color the sky above them, the temperature still hovered in the low nineties. Jenny had a new appreciation for the cooling night air in Colorado. Even when summer was at its hottest, there was some relief each evening.
“That’s not true,” she said with firm conviction, even though she understood why he might feel that way. Hank and Karen were thrilled to keep Cooper overnight. When they’d dropped him off twenty minutes ago, Karen had been in the kitchen prepping homemade cinnamon rolls for tomorrow’s breakfast, while Hank tinkered in the garage.
“Your parents love you,” she told him.
He gave her a funny look. “The first night we were here, you were ready to
hang all of them up by their toenails for the injustices I endured as a kid. Now you’re a fan?”
“Not exactly.” She laced her fingers with his because she didn’t want him to feel like he was being deserted, especially by the woman he was paying to stay in his corner. “I still think your brother is a jackass.”
“But not my dad?” Owen quirked a brow. “I have to admit he’s good with Cooper. It’s disconcerting to watch. All my life, I blamed how he treated me on the fact that we didn’t have similar tastes in things. I wasn’t athletic or rugged.” He shook his head. “But he’s so gentle with Cooper.”
“That’s true,” Jenny admitted. Maybe the truth wouldn’t hurt Owen the way his mother thought. There was a chance it would free him, help him understand that everything Hank had done was out of love. Love and fear, which Jenny understood could become convoluted and blurred until it was difficult to know where one stopped and the other started.
Owen laughed without humor. “I guess it’s just me.”
“No.” She stopped just before the bar’s mahogany-stained front door. Tugging Owen back to her, she wound her hands around his neck. “You are an amazing man just the way you are.”
Disbelief was clear in his eyes and she did the only thing she could think of to make it disappear. She pulled him down to her and kissed him. An open-mouthed invitation that he immediately accepted, angling his head to deepen the connection.
All the desire she’d tried to convince herself had been sated by their one frenetic coupling roared to the surface, like a riptide pulling her under and over the waves. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think other than to hold on to Owen like a lifeline. He was her anchor in the tumultuous sea of her own need.
When the door banged open, they broke apart. A man walked past, giving them a sidelong glance. “Glad to see you back in town, Dalton,” he said when he realized who it was he’d just caught in a crazy-passionate PDA on the sidewalk.
“Nice to be here,” Owen said, curling his arm around Jenny’s waist when she would have stepped away.
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