Brody Page 10

  This wasn’t the time to try to defend myself. It was time to listen to her, the way I should have years ago. “I can understand that.”

  “There was a time,” she said, resting her hands on my chest, “when all I wanted was to be your wife, the mother of your children. I didn’t care where we lived or how much money we had, as long as we were together.”

  She’d been so sweet, so naïve. Fresh out of college, she believed we could survive as newlyweds, working minimum-wage jobs until something better came along. I’d spent half my life watching my old man wait for a ship that never came in, so I’d set out to make my own fortune.

  “Then you became obsessed with making money. It was all you thought about, all you talked about. When the money from gambling started rolling in, you were like a different person.”

  I didn’t have the right to dispute her claim. I had been obsessed with making money, but not for the reasons she assumed. I’d wanted a better life for us. I didn’t start out caring about the big house, fancy cars, and flashy clothes. I’d just started acting and dressing a part, doing what the world expected of a guy in my tax bracket.

  Then one day I looked in the mirror and saw someone I didn’t recognize. He was wearing a two-thousand-dollar suit, thousand-dollar custom shoes, and a watch encased in diamonds with a discreet logo that screamed expensive. He got three-hundred-dollar haircuts, rode around in limos, downed fifty-dollar glasses of scotch like water, and… hated himself.

  “I wanted you to have the things my mother never did,” I said, admitting the truth aloud for the first time. “The things he could never give her. I saw her go without all her life just ‘cause she fell in love with the wrong man. I didn’t want that to be you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Sighing, I pulled away from her as I ran a shaky hand through my hair. Baring my soul, acknowledging my deep-seated fear and shame, was harder than I ever expected it to be. Even when I assumed she already knew the truth. “I didn’t want you to wake up one day resenting me because I couldn’t give you the things you deserved.”

  She gaped at me as though I’d lost my mind. “Brody, I don’t know what you think I need to be happy, but I grew up in a normal, middle-class family. We didn’t have a ton of money, just a comfortable life. We were happy, secure, and loved. That’s all I ever wanted for my kids, for our kids.” She reached for my hands. “I’m sorry if I ever gave you the impression I wanted more than that.”

  I shook my head before releasing her. Pacing the small tiled room, I tried to find the words to make her understand. “I saw the way you grew up, and to you that may have been ‘the norm’, but to me, it wasn’t. I was so afraid I’d never be able to give you the kind of life your parents had, and they’d eventually convince you I was a loser who’d never amount to anything.” I knew they still thought that, given how I’d made my millions, but their opinion mattered less to me now than it did back then. The padded bank account helped guard my fragile ego. “I was afraid you’d leave me if I couldn’t provide a good life for us.”

  She pushed her damp hair off her face, blowing out a breath. “Did it ever occur to you that I was capable of making a good living? I’m not some helpless female who needs a man to take care of her and provide for her, you know!”

  Now that she’d made me feel two feet tall, I had some serious back-pedaling to do. “I know that, baby. I know how driven you are, and I’m so proud of all you’ve accomplished. But how would it have looked to your family if you’d been the one taking care of me?” Just the thought of it made me cringe.

  “I don’t believe you,” she said, storming out of the bathroom. “You and your stupid male pride!”

  I grabbed her before her hand could lock around the doorknob leading to her room. Hauling her against my chest, I closed my arms around her shoulders. “I know you think I’m a bonehead, and maybe you’re right, but I did it because I love you, Ri. I wanted to be everything my father wasn’t.”

  She glanced over her shoulder at me. “Do you think some of this may stem from the fact you were too young to help your mother financially when she died? You watched her struggle and felt guilty that you weren’t able to do more?”

  Nail, meet head. “Maybe,” I said, loosening my grip on her.

  “What happened to your mom was awful,” she said gently, turning to face me. “But you were just a kid. There was nothing you could have done differently. You were there for her to hold her hand, to talk to her, to take care of her the best you could.”

  I had a flash of sitting by her bedside, reading to her and feeding her when she was too weak to bring the spoon to her lips. A tear leaked from her eye as she told me she loved me, that I was a good boy and I’d make some woman a good husband one day.

  “Logically I know that,” I said, feeling my throat burn. “But in here…” I pointed at my heart. “That’s another story. There’s nothing worse than watching someone you love slip away and knowing there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”

  “I know, babe.” She pressed her lips to my bare chest. “I know.”

  “I kept thinking maybe if we had money, we could’ve found a better doctor, gotten a second opinion or some other treatment or—”

  “Sssh.” She wrapped her arms around my waist, laying her head on my chest. “You’ve tortured yourself enough. No more.”

  I wasn’t the only one who had. My brothers and I had had the “if only” conversation half a dozen times over the years. If only things had been different, maybe Mom would still be alive and wouldn’t have missed out on the weddings, grandchildren, and business successes she should have been there to witness.

  “After all the grief we gave her, it would have been nice to make her proud,” I said, getting more choked up about my mother than I had in years.

  “She’s seen it all.” Riley tipped her head back, looking at the ceiling. “I really believe that.”

  Trying to lighten the mood, I said, “Oh, yeah?” With a glance over my shoulder at the rumpled bed, I flashed a quick, painful smile. “I’m kinda hoping she wasn’t watching what I did to you a little while ago.”

  She gasped, slapping my chest as her cheeks flamed. “Shut up! I can’t believe you just said that!”

  I chuckled, peeling her hands away from her face when she tried to hide it. “I think I’m going to grab a shower now too. Promise you won’t try to sneak out on me?”

  She seemed to consider her options before nodding. “I promise.”

  Chapter Nine

  Riley

  I could tell Brody was nervous about telling his brothers about their father’s other family, so I did everything I could to ensure the evening went off without a hitch. Thankfully, I worked closely with a great party supply company that had been able to deliver a large table with a skirted white tablecloth and a dozen chairs with crisp white covers.

  I was fussing with the white flower arrangement in the center of the table after I’d charged my sister with stirring the pasta sauce. I’d decided on simple fare for tonight: antipasto platter, bruschetta, twice-baked rigatoni with Bolognese sauce, fresh bread, salad, and two kinds of cheesecake.

  I hoped that would be enough to feed this hungry brood. I knew from experience feeding Brody’s family was often harder than catering a small wedding, mainly because they were all burly men with big appetites. And throw two teenage boys into the mix…

  “Maybe I should text Brody and get him to stop at the store on his way home,” I said to my sister. “What do you think? I could do those Italian pork meatballs you like. They don’t take too long to prepare.”

  Macy stopped stirring long enough to poke her head through the doorway between the dining room and kitchen. “Did you hear what you just said?”

  “What?” I asked, rearranging the crystal glasses on the table. Brody’s brothers were more beer out of the bottle than wine, but I wanted everything to be perfect tonight, so I’d used my fine china to set the tone. I wanted them to know fr
om the outset this was an important occasion, not some impromptu dinner party we’d thrown together at the last minute.

  “You referred to this as Brody’s home. Is it?”

  I pointed toward the stove. “I think you can turn that off now. Taste it first though, just to be sure it tastes like Mom’s.” I got most of my recipes from her, and right now, I was grateful she was such a good cook who rarely steered me wrong.

  “You’re trying to avoid the question,” Macy called, returning to her task. “Why?”

  Knowing that was impossible, given who I was dealing with, I said, “No, this isn’t his home. In fact, he wants me to start house hunting with him next week. It’s seems he’s ready to buy another place here.” And I got thrill bumps every time I thought about the kind of house he might buy. A family home in a good school district, perhaps?

  Though I was trying to act nonchalant about it, my sister clearly wasn’t buying it. She reappeared, her hand fisted on her hip, a red apron covering her faded skinny jeans and black tunic. “And you’re just telling me this now? What the hell, sis? Why’re you holding out on me?”

  If she knew about the conversation I’d had with Brody in that Vegas hotel, she’d never forgive me for not telling her.

  “One sec,” I said, reaching for the phone I’d stashed in the back pocket of my jeans. “Just let me text Brody and tell him what I need at the store, then I’ll fill you in.”

  As she watched me text, she asked, “Where is he, by the way? Shouldn’t he be here, helping you set up for this? It is his family, after all.”

  Laughing, I said, “He had to stock up on booze. I’m afraid I only had a few beers and a bottle of wine. You know that would never do for those guys.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right. So, uh, everyone’s going to be here tonight?” Macy asked, reaching behind her to untie her apron.

  “Yeah, why?” I stuck my phone back in my pocket before brushing past Macy and into the kitchen. “You wanna stay? I’m sure they’d love to see you. It’s been a while.”

  “No, this is a family thing,” she said, leaning her hip against the counter as she watched me pour the sauce over the cooked pasta. “No telling how the guys will react to the news about their father and brothers. And if the shit hits the fan, I don’t want to be here when it does.”

  I couldn’t blame her. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be here, and it was my home. “You know if you’re still here when Brody gets back, he won’t take no for an answer. He’ll make you stay.”

  Sniffing appreciatively, she turned off the oven when it beeped to indicate the bread was ready. “Brody can’t make me do anything I don’t wanna do.”

  “But you do wanna stay,” I said, hazarding a guess. “Especially since Kane will be here.”

  Macy turned her back before donning oven mitts to take out the bread. She covered the bread with a clean tea towel, then turned to face me, crossing her arms. “I should never have told you I had a crush on him. You’re never gonna let me live it down, are you?”

  Since Macy still had a boyfriend she would never cheat on, I wasn’t overly concerned about her interest in Brody’s brother. It was probably just a harmless flirtation, but I wouldn’t mind witnessing their interactions, just to be sure. As her big sister, it was my job to look out for her, and as much as I loved Kane, he had a reputation as a player. Definitely not the kind of man I’d want Macy to get mixed up with.

  “Kane’s a great guy,” I said, covering the pasta with foil so I could pop it into the oven later. “He’s just not the relationship type, ya know? I think it’s because of his job.”

  “Why would that stop him?” Macy reached under the towel to break off a piece of the warm bread.

  I gave her a chastising look before frowning at the bread. “I guess most of the women he’s dated have had a hard time with his career.” I shrugged. “At least that’s what Brody told me.”

  “Then he’s dating the wrong girls,” she said, stealing an olive off the antipasto platter I’d prepared.

  Steering her out of the room by her shoulders, I pointed at the sofa. “Sit while I make some coffee.”

  “Why can’t I stay in there with you?” she asked, pouting.

  “Because if you do, there’ll be nothing left for the guests,” I said, trying to hide my amusement. My sister had always been a grazer, snacking all day, mainly because she didn’t see the point in wasting time to sit down for a meal. “You go sit, and I’ll bring in a few of those cookies Mom sent over with you.”

  “Okay.” She crossed the room and sank into the sofa. She pulled her phone out of her pocket when it pinged and sighed when she glanced at the screen. “It’s Brendan. He wants to know when I’m coming home.”

  Since the kitchen was partially open to the living and dining areas, I asked, “What did you tell him?”

  “The same thing I told him the last time he asked—I’m not sure.”

  I could tell she was struggling with her decision to return to Nashville, and I knew it wasn’t the city or her decision to pursue a music career that had her second-guessing herself. It was her boyfriend.

  When I returned with a platter of cookies and coffee, I said, “Why don’t you tell him the truth, that you need a little break from the relationship?”

  “That’s easier said than done since we’re living together. Both of our names are on the lease, and it would be tough for him to pay the rent without me. He’s still got those student loans to pay off, not to mention a car payment now.”

  Macy had told me he’d recently bought a new Corvette he couldn’t really afford, simply because he’d always wanted one and something about turning thirty made him think it had to be now or never.

  “Ugh.” She tossed her phone on the chair as she reached for her mug. “I don’t want to talk about him anymore. Tell me how things went in Vegas. What’s Brody’s dad like? How about his brothers and stepmom? Are they cool?”

  So typical of my sister. She wouldn’t ask just one question when she could fire half a dozen at you instead.

  “His dad isn’t at all what I expected,” I admitted, reaching for my coffee. I had a feeling I’d need a few of these babies before the day was done.

  “How so?” Macy asked, reaching for one of our mom’s ginger cookies.

  “I don’t know.” I reached for a cookie and two paper napkins, then handed one to Macy. I’d just vacuumed and didn’t want crumbs all over the furniture and floor. “I guess I had this picture of him in my mind, and he was nothing like that.” I bit into the cookie as I thought about how best to describe Jack Steele. “He just seems like a normal, hard-working guy who loves his family.”

  “So he’s changed?” Macy devoured her first cookie before reaching for a second.

  “Yeah, I think even Brody was surprised. He wanted to go on hating him, I think because he has for so long. He doesn’t know any other way to interact with the man.”

  “But you don’t think all that hatred and resentment is warranted?” Macy asked. “He did bail on them when they needed him most. That’s not an easy thing to forgive or forget.”

  “I know.” Forgiveness had been on my mind a lot lately, since that was what Brody seemed to be asking of me. “I’m sure they’ll figure it out.” I took a sip of my coffee. “Telling his brothers about it will no doubt help. He’ll have people to talk to who understand how he feels better than I ever could.”

  “Yeah, but he told Kane, right?”

  “He did, but I think the fact that he hasn’t told everyone else is weighing on him. It’ll be good for him to get it all out there tonight.”

  “He’ll be okay,” Macy said, curling her hand around my knee. “I know you want to be there for him, but you need to think about yourself first, girl. Don’t be too quick to let your guard down with him. I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

  This seemed like a good time to tell her about our conversation in Vegas. I needed my little sister’s input. “So we, uh, kinda slept together while
we were away.” I avoided her gaze as I set my cup on the table.

  “You didn’t!” Covering her eyes with her hand, Macy said, “I don’t know why I’m surprised. You never did have any self-restraint when it came to that man.”

  “But that’s not the big news,” I said, replaying his words in my head. “He said he wants to marry me, Mace.”

  She gaped at me as she dug her nails into my forearm. “Shut up! Are you telling me Brody Steele is finally ready to put a ring on your finger?”

  “It seems that way.” I took a deep breath. “But it’s too soon. I’m just not ready to trust him again.”

  Macy giggled. “Too soon? You’ve been with the guy on and off for twenty years.”

  “You know what I mean. We haven’t been a real couple for a long time.” There had been moments of ecstasy when Brody was my boyfriend, but there were also moments of misery, and those were the ones I wasn’t anxious to relive. “He says he’s changed, or at least he wants to, but I don’t think this is the time for him to be making life-altering decisions about his future.”

  “You mean because of his dad?”

  “Yeah.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket when I heard the chime indicating I had a text. Groaning, I set it on the table.

  “What’s wrong?” Macy asked, glancing at it. “Work problem?”

  “No.” We had a small wedding scheduled for today, but I was confident my staff could handle that. “It’s a text from Stephan.”

  “Stephan?” she asked, frowning. “I didn’t know you guys were still in touch.”

  “We’re not really,” I said, trying to play it off. “When we broke up, I told him we could still be friends. In the beginning that meant getting together for the occasional cup of coffee, but when I realized he saw that as a chance to win me back I told him it would be best if we didn’t see each other anymore.”

  “And?”

  “He’s still calling and texting me.”

  Peeking at my screen, Macy said, “Are all of his texts like that?”

  This one simply asked me how I’d been. “Most are. Sometimes he tells me he misses me or asks to see me.”