A Crazy Kind of Love (27 page)

“Rocket Man keeps his promises,” Mike said softly and went up on her toes to plant a kiss on his cheek.

Lucas felt as if he’d been handed a medal. He smiled at her, then shifted another look at Bree. “I won’t tell him about the baby.”

She nodded.

“But you should.”

“No,” she said instantly. “I won’t be doing that to him. It would only make his going harder on him than it has to be.”

Was she right?

Who the hell knew?

“Up to you,” he acknowledged and pulled Mike in close, just because suddenly he needed her there, tucked up against him. He felt more alone than he had at any time since the gulf between him and Justin had first been forged.

And damn it, he was tired of being alone.

He dropped a kiss on top of her head, then said, “You guys go ahead. We’ll be fine.
Justin
will be fine.”

“If he’s not,” Bree threatened, leaning in to make sure he read the danger in her eyes. “You’ll have
me
to deal with, Lucas Gallagher. And bet your life, that’s not something you want to have happen.” Then she turned and started for the front of the house.

Mike looked after the woman for a moment before grinning up at Lucas. “She’s really mean. I
like
that in a woman.”

“Apparently,” he said on a sigh of acceptance, “so do I.”

Still smiling, Mike said thoughtfully, “You know, I think she’s almost as scary as
me
.”

He laughed. God, it felt good too, however briefly it lasted. “Nobody else is
that
scary.”

She grinned up at him. “Aw. You’re just saying that ’cause you know I like it.”

Damned if he didn’t like it, too. Which said plenty about how his life was going lately.

Jo knew this was the best place for her. She had plenty to keep her busy and no chance at all of running into her father. Not that she wasn’t glad as hell that he was going to be fine. She was.

She just didn’t want to talk to him.

Not now.

Maybe not for a while.

She attacked the rotten shingles on the roof of the Leaf and Bean and yanked them up before sliding them
down off the edge of the roof to land in the alley behind the shop.

Good work. Steady work. Mind-numbing work. Didn’t have to think. Didn’t have to wonder about the fast-moving whirlpool that was her life. Didn’t have to think about anything except not falling off the roof.

“Hey!”

She wobbled unsteadily and caught her balance again before shooting a look into the alley. “Damn it,” she yelled, when she spotted Cash Hunter looking up at her. “Do you want me dead? Is that it?”

“That’s not how I want you . . .” He smiled and even from a distance that smile was pretty potent stuff.

Sighing, she shifted until she was sitting on the roof, legs drawn up, arms resting across the tops of her knees. Her hammer hung lightly from her right hand and she swung it carelessly, just for something to concentrate on. “What
do
you want, Hunter?”

He stood there, looking like the poster boy for Dangerous Guys. His black hair was wind ruffled, his worn jeans hugged his long, muscular legs, and his black T-shirt strained across his broad chest. All in all . . . amazing. Which only pissed her off. She was in no mood for anything remotely like a turn-on.

“Heard about your father.”

She cringed inwardly.

“How’s he doing?”

“Better,” she said tightly and hoped he couldn’t hear the tinny note in her voice. “Fine, I mean. He’s going to be fine.”

“Good news.”

“Yeah.” It really was. She knew that. Her heart knew it. It was only her twisting guts and her racing mind that wanted to shriek and howl.

“What about the other thing?”

“Huh?” She blinked at him.

He glanced around to make sure the narrow alley was empty. “You know, your
class
?”

“Shut up about that!” Jo tightened her grip on the hammer and thought about throwing it. But then she’d only have to climb down the ladder to get it again, so she settled for putting a choke hold on the scarred, wooden handle. “I told you to never talk about that.”

He folded his arms across his chest and looked up at her, apparently going nowhere until she’d answered his question. She took a quick look up and down the alley before saying quietly, “It’s fine.”

“Fine.”

“Better.”

“Better.”

“What’re you? An echo?”

He grinned. Damn, the man had one hell of a smile. “Did the book help?”

The book.
Astronomy for Dummies
. She should have thanked him for it days ago. Should have had the guts to call him and say she appreciated it. But she hadn’t been able to make herself do it. She hadn’t wanted anyone to know. And now, after the thing with Papa, it all seemed so much smaller than she’d been making it.

“Yeah. It did.” She paused a beat or two. “Thanks.”

“Wow. Sounded like that actually hurt.”

“What?”

“Thanking me.”

She scowled at him. “Did you drop by just to irritate me?”

He laughed. “Damn, Josefina, I don’t have to be anywhere
near
you to irritate you.”

“True.”

“Look,” he said, pushing his hair back out of his eyes with one big hand. “I stopped to see you because I wanted to tell you I’m leaving town for a while.”

A ping of something she didn’t want to identify bounced around inside her. “And you’re telling me this
why
?”

He shook his head, still grinning. “For one thing, because I hired your family to redo the guest cottage?”

“Oh. Yeah.” She’d forgotten about that. God, her brain was like a colander. Too many holes where thoughts were draining out like hot water rinsing off hot pasta. “Okay. Whatever.”

“That’s it?”

“What?” she asked. “You want a party? A real send-off with balloons and everything?” She waved a hand at him. “Go. Fly free.”

He muttered something she didn’t quite catch and when he looked up at her, eyes narrowed and jaw tight—she figured that was probably just as well.

“I don’t know why in the hell I try to be nice to you.”

“Me, neither,” she snapped.

“You’ve got a nasty disposition.”

She lifted the hammer. “And a mean throwing arm.”

“I’m not worried.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’d miss, then you’d have to come down here—by
me
—to get it back.”

“I could wait till you’re gone to get it.”

“I won’t go.”

Her temper snapped. She’d had enough. Too many people pulling too many of her strings and she just was so damn tired of being Chandler’s favorite marionette.

A sharp, cold wind sliced in off the ocean, picked up a few stray pieces of paper in the alley and hurled them along like soccer balls. Black clouds, heavy with rain, raced inland, and as they blanketed the sun, she shivered.

“I’ve got to get this plastic on Stevie’s roof before that storm starts.”

“Right. I’ll let you get to it.” He turned and took a couple of steps, then stopped and looked up at her over his shoulder. “I’ll be back in a month or so.”

“Wait,” she said dryly and patted her shirt as if looking for a pocket that wasn’t there. “Let me get a pen so I can circle the date on my calendar.”

One corner of his mouth lifted. “Yeah. Nasty disposition. Why does that fascinate me?”

She gave him a tight smile. “Masochism?”

“Miss me, Josefina.”

“Bite me, Cash.”

Lucas stepped out onto the back deck and, unobserved, watched his brother for a long minute. Justin sat on one of the wooden Adirondack chairs, his blanket-covered
legs resting on a stool drawn up in front of him. The man’s face looked more gaunt than it had just a couple of days ago and his pale hand rested idly on the blanket’s edge. He was staring out at the lake, watching a couple of ducks doing doughnuts on the still surface of the water.

The reeds on the shoreline dipped and swayed in a dance with the wind and the soft hush of the turning autumn leaves sounded like a symphony of sighs.

“Just gonna stand there and look at me?”

Caught, Lucas walked out onto the deck, sat down in a chair close to his brother, and held out one of the two beers he’d brought with him.

One of Justin’s eyebrows lifted. “Harp. You still like Irish beer?”

“Is there any other kind?” Lucas asked and set Justin’s bottle on a small table beside him.

“Thanks,” his brother said. “I’ll have some in a bit.”

“No hurry.”

“See,” Justin said, lifting that pale, weak hand and pointing his index finger. “That’s where you’re wrong. There
is
a hurry, Luke. I’m running out of time.”

Something inside him fisted, squeezed like a vise, then relaxed again to allow him to draw breath. “I know.”

“It’s beautiful here,” his brother said softly. “Quiet. You should sit out here more often.”

“I do,” he said, though he knew damn well he hadn’t really taken enough time to come out here and admire the view. He was working on the book or researching or rushing around to do something else. He almost never stepped out onto the deck to just
sit
.

“Yeah,” he said, shifting his gaze to the ducks on the lake. “I should.”

Justin smiled and let his head fall to the chair back. “Don’t look now, but I think we’re having a Kodak moment.”

Lucas snorted and took a swallow of beer. “Everything’s still a joke to you.”

“Jesus, Luke. If I didn’t laugh, I’d have to cry, and who the hell wants to see
that
?”

The wind was cold and the clouds looked like they meant business. But now that they were finally talking, Lucas didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to suggest they go inside, where walls might spring up again.

Justin apparently felt the same way. “The night Mom and Dad died—”

“We don’t have to—”

“Yeah, we
do
.”

Lucas closed his eyes and held tight to the bottle of Irish beer. His father’s favorite brand, Harp, had become Lucas’s and Justin’s favorite, as well. Their father had been a giant of a man to them. He’d had all the answers. Hell, he even knew all the questions.

They’d both looked up to him.

They’d both loved him.

And late one night five years ago, Justin had killed him.

“Why’d you really come here to me, Justin?”

His brother turned his head on the chair back to look at him. Brown eyes, already a little hazy, as if they were staring beyond this world and into the mysteries of the next, met Lucas’s. “Because I couldn’t die with you hating me.”

“I never hated you.”

“Sure you did. Hell.
I
hated me for a while.”

Lucas shrugged, cupped the icy beer bottle between his palms, and admitted, “Okay, maybe I did. Once.”

And never more than on that dark, cold night five years ago.

Justin had crashed another one of the fast cars he seemed determined to kill himself in, but this time, there’d been an open bottle of beer on the back seat. He hadn’t been drunk. Just careless. But still, he was arrested and, naturally, he called his twin to come bail him out.

But that last time, Lucas said no.

He was busy, he’d said; working, he’d said. But the simple truth was, he was sick of being Justin’s backup plan.

So their parents went instead.

Then, with Justin driving them home, they’d died on a rain-streaked road when he lost control and slammed into a tree.

Images filled Lucas’s mind and it was as if he were back there. Standing in the rain beside the twisted hulk of his father’s Mercedes.

Plastic tarps covered his parents’ bodies. Steam lifted from under the crumpled hood, and the headlights, knocked out of line on impact, streamed brightly into the darkness. One speared toward heaven and the other toward hell. The flash of revolving red and blue emergency lights pulsed in the air and Lucas fought back tears as heavy as the rain
.

Paramedics were working on Justin. Lucas overheard one of the cops muttering to his partner. “Too bad. Man killing his own parents like this. A hell of a thing to have to live with.”

Pain whipped through him, fresh and raw. It clawed at his soul and ripped at his heart and he squeezed his eyes tightly shut in an effort to hold it all in.

“It wasn’t my fault,” Justin said, and it took a minute or two for his soft voice to get through the roar of blood rushing in Lucas’s ears.

“Bullshit.” He took a long drink of beer. “Of course it was.” Gritting his teeth, he squinted into the rising wind. “If we’re going to go through all this, at least be honest.”

“I am.” Justin sighed, his voice weak and trembling.

“Mom was in the front seat.”

Lucas took another long drink of his beer and the
taste was bitter. As his brother talked, he returned to that empty road and the flashing lights in the rain.

“We were headed up the mountain. Just a mile or two from the house.”

Lucas remembered. So close, he’d thought at the time. So close to safety. And still so far.

“A deer jumped out in front of the car. Came out of nowhere. Just stood there.” Justin sighed and closed his eyes, as if he, too, were reliving it all one more time. “I probably could have avoided it. But Mom panicked. Grabbed the wheel and twisted it to keep me from hitting that stupid deer.”

Lucas’s stomach fisted. That would have been so like their mother. For her to react instantly in an effort to protect an animal. She’d always been the one mom on the block who took in every stray cat or dog and even pet rats and mice that other mothers couldn’t handle. Her heart was as soft as her will was strong.

But if that was true . . . Lucas jumped to his feet, paced to the edge of the deck, then turned around and stomped right back again. His mind churned, his heart ached, and his stomach was spinning like he was on a cheap ride at a carnival.

“You’re saying the accident was
Mom’s
fault?”

“No. It was all my fault no matter what actually happened on that road. If I hadn’t called them . . . If I hadn’t gotten arrested . . . They never would have been there. They’d have been safe. At home.”

Back teeth clenched, Lucas muttered thickly, “And if I hadn’t turned you down—”