Love Brewing (Love Brothers #3) (17 page)

The Love family driveway resembled a parking lot by the time
they arrived. Dominic got out and started across the lawn to the front door.
His ears were clogged and his vision had tunneled. He sensed his brother on one
side of him, which he appreciated. When he got to the door, his hearing cleared
and his mother’s laugh, then the deep, once-familiar cadence of a male voice
floated through his brain. He turned on his heel and headed straight back to
the car, running smack into the brick wall of Diana Brantley.

She had her arms crossed and her lips pressed in a thin
line. “No, Dominic.” He tried to sidestep her. She moved with him. “Go meet
your son, if nothing else.”

When his knees gave out and he nearly fell to the grass, two
sets of hands guided him up. He kept his gaze on Diana’s. She smiled, giving
him strength as his brother held onto him.

“Dominic.” A sickeningly familiar voice called out from
somewhere behind him, sending a lightning bolt of emotion through his chest. He
shivered, keeping his eyes on Diana. She nodded.

Kent Lowery was standing in his family’s open front door,
dressed as always in a suit. But it hung on him like he’d mistakenly put on
someone else’s clothes. The silky red tie he always favored was loose around
his thin neck. His dark hair was too long. His skin a ghostly sort of pale.

“Hey,” Dom choked out. Cara appeared at Kent’s side, looking
stricken and miserable. Kieran let go of Dom and headed for her. Dom couldn’t
move. “Uh, are you all right?”

“Don’t worry.” Kent crossed his arms over his chest, his
posture as defiant as a really sick man could pull off. “You should be as fine
as you were when we met.”

Leaning into Diana, who still remained at his shoulder, he
was stunned, yet somehow galvanized at the same time. “Where is he?” He moved
forward slowly.

“Jace,” Kent called into the doorway, keeping his gaze on
Dom’s. “Come on out. It’s all right. Your…daddy. He’s here.”

Dom repressed a fresh shiver of fear, then looked down and
into his own eyes, if a little watery and in the face of a tow-headed boy
standing in front of Kent.

“Come on in now, boys.” He heard his mother’s voice. “Let’s
sit down and have ourselves a visit.”

The boy glanced up at Kent as if for reassurance. Kent
nodded, and prodded him indoors. Cara and Kieran followed Jace. Diana gave
Dominic a quick squeeze and followed them. Dom stayed put. Kent did too, arms
hanging at his sides, his gaze distant and sad.

“You look like shit,” Dom said, his voice breaking.

“You should see the other guy.” Kent heaved a sigh. “Come on
in. Meet your boy.”

“You didn’t have to do this.” Dom couldn’t move. “I hope you
don’t think you had to… prove something to me.”

“He was in a real bad way when I found him. He needed to be
rescued. So I did it.” Kent took a deep breath. “He nearly died when he was
three. Some asshole beat him with a broken bottle and stuffed him under a bed.
I saw the pictures. He still has scars.”

“Don’t,” Dom choked out. “I get it. I’ll…take care of him
from now on. How did they release him to you anyway?”

“I’m pretty resourceful.” Kent’s half-smile ripped into
Dominic’s soul. “I like the little punk. Reminds me of you. C’mon in.” He held
out a hand.

As he moved slowly to the door, Dominic acknowledged that
his life would never, ever be the same from that moment forward. Once inside,
he saw his mother sitting in front of Jace, touching his jeans-covered knee.
Kieran and Cara hovered at the perimeter of the room, arm in arm. Cara looked
like she could birth a baby any second. Dom met his father’s gaze, which
chilled him.

Antony and Margot were in the kitchen. Aiden and Rosie sat
on the couch next to his mother and opposite Jace.

Jace Love.

Dom gulped. Kent gave him a gentle shove. He crouched down
and regarded the little boy who was currently doing a great job pretending he
wasn’t there.

“Hi, uh, Jace.”

The boy’s expression remained flat. He glanced up at Lindsay
as if seeking a cue as to how he should react.

“It’s all right, honey.” She gave him an encouraging smile.
“That’s your very own daddy.”

The kid swiped an arm across his runny nose. His feet swung
faster and he started rocking back and forth. Dom had to suppress a groan,
recognizing his own nervous tics in miniature.

Anton joined his wife on the couch. The little boy got off
his chair without a word and went straight for Dom’s father, getting
comfortable on the man’s lap. Anton patted his shoulder.

“Oh, now, it’s all right, boy. He ain’t gonna bite ya.”

Aiden chuckled, which got Kieran started. The boy blinked
and held out a trembling hand. Heart breaking, Dom shook it, then rose, one
hundred-percent unsure of what to do or say next. The sensation of staring into
a weird, time-reversed mirror hit him every time he looked at Jace. The damn
kid couldn’t be a more perfect mini-Dominic if he tried. When Dom glanced up
and caught Kent’s intense gaze, his heart sank somewhere down to his knees.

“Where’s the booze,” he asked, voice croaky.

Someone gave him a glass. He tried to sip, but he shook so
much it clinked against his teeth so he set it down and dropped into the chair
the kid—his kid—had abandoned in favor of snuggling against the one man in the
room no one considered snuggly.

Anton had a grip on the boy now, seeming confused, then,
slowly, delighted. After a while, believing he could manage the glass, Dom
drank the whiskey he’d crafted. He’d know it anywhere, imperfections and all.
Kent was next to him, but Dom wouldn’t turn, unwilling to accept that the man
he’d loved had issued his own death sentence. The anger in his chest had so
many reasons for its existence he felt as if he were choking on its indecision.

The boy pointed toward the sliding-glass door without a
word. Anton got up. “I’m taking Jace outside.”

Dom got up along with everyone else while the boy led his
grandfather out the door, gripping his finger. Lindsay flopped onto the couch
with a loud exhalation, fanning her face with a magazine. “Well, now I’ll
declare that was
not
what I expected.”

Kent took a deep breath. “I’m gonna go.”

Cara stepped forward. “Wait, Kent.” She shot Kieran a glare,
who transferred it over to Dominic.

“I’ll walk you out,” Dom muttered under his breath.

He followed Kent to his car and waited, taking in the other
man’s reduced stature, his throat clogged with words he didn’t know how to say.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered in lieu of anything else.

“Not your fault. I acted like an idiot after you left and
wouldn’t talk to me. I’m a grown man. I made stupid choices.” He wiped his
brow. “I loved you.” He faced the car.

Dom touched his shoulder. Kent shook him off. “No, no,
don’t. I don’t want you to think you owe me anything.” He opened the door and
slid behind the wheel. Dom crouched down and knocked on the window. After a few
seconds, it lowered, but Kent kept his gaze on the windshield. “I’ve gotta go.
Time to break the news to my folks.” He took a long breath. “It’s the sarcoma,
you know. Once I had a few spots and got the diagnosis, it metastasized so
fast…too fast….” His voice broke and he pressed his forehead on the steering
wheel. “I’m dying, okay? Dying of fucking cancer. I’m ate up with it, as my
grannie would say. And the best part is, I did it to myself. I put the gun to
my head and pulled the trigger, all because of you.”

The man’s voice was so rough and miserable, it flayed what
remained of Dominic’s nerves. He opened the door and tried to reach in and
provide some kind of comfort, but Kent slammed it, nearly catching Dom’s
fingers.

“We’re done. I brought you your son. You don’t have to do
anything more to thank me than to be a good father to him.” Kent’s square jaw
clenched in profile. “I’m sorry I said that. It’s not because of you.
You
never loved me.
You
were just screwing around, trying something new,
whatever. My bad, falling for you for real.”

Kent drove away, leaving Dom rubbing his fingers from the
near-miss injury before he headed inside.

The vision of his father sitting with the blond kid—his
son—on his lap in one of the uncovered pool chairs shocked him. The boy had his
face against Anton’s neck and the man’s lips were moving as if he were talking
to him. Something propelled Dom forward, if for no other reason than to witness
the bizarre scene—Anton Love, to the best of Dom’s knowledge, had about a
pinky-toenail’s worth of
nurturing
in him. He left that to Lindsay, who
overdid it to compensate.

Anton didn’t seem to notice him at first, so intent was he
on his conversation with Jace, which gave Dominic some time to observe the
boy’s skinny legs, huge feet, his too-long hair. Finally, Anton peeled Jace off
his chest and dipped his head down to meet his eyes.

Dom moved to the left so Jace wouldn’t spot him. The kid
shook his head so hard it sent droplets of snot and whatever else flying into
the air. Anton gripped his shoulders and his words floated across the lawn,
lodging in Dom’s brain like a nail.

“It will be all right, Jace. I promise. I won’t let anyone
hurt you ever again. And I’m a man of my word, you’ll come to know that soon
enough.”

Dom’s chest filled with something he couldn’t explain and he
marched up to the two of them, his father and his son, and crouched down in
front of them. “Daddy, I, um, I could use the apartment, you know, so I have a
place for…us.”

His father stiffened and glanced over Dom’s shoulder to the
spot where Kent’s car had been a few minutes earlier.

“Jace.” Dom put a hand on the boy’s bony shoulder. “Son, uh,
why don’t we go inside and see what Mama…I mean…uh, your Grammie has fixed for
lunch.” The kid frowned at him through his shaggy bangs and Dom came
face-to-face with his own pissed-off boyhood expression. He tried not to be
afraid, but suddenly that’s exactly how he felt about the whole thing.

“Where’d Kent go?” Jace’s voice sounded impossibly tiny. Dom
narrowed his eyes, and caught his first, nauseating glimpse of the scars, one
that marred his left cheek, the other one near his right eye, another
stretching down his neck and disappearing into his too-big T-shirt. Repressing
a thrill of rage at the thought of what the boy—his son—had been through, Dom
touched his lower lip, which had stuck out even farther under Dom’s scrutiny.

“He’s gone to see his mama and daddy.”

“Want to go with him. Don’t want to be here.” He shoved Dom
away and barnacled onto Anton, hiding once more in the man’s shirt. Dom leaned
back on his heels, feeling out of place, of no use, and boiling with rage he
couldn’t explain.

Anton got up with Jace still clinging to him. “Let’s go on
inside now, boy. Your Grammie wants to feed you. Do you like fried chicken? No?
How about mashed ’taters?”

Dom sat, frozen, as his father carried his son into the
house where Dom had grown up angry, and had rejected multiple times, only to
circle back to it over and over again. The man’s voice wafted across the lawn
to him even as they went into the lower basement patio door.

“It’s fine, Jace. I won’t let anyone take you anywhere you
don’t wanna go.”

Dom ground his teeth, torn between wanting his son to hang
onto him like he’d done to Anton and jumping on his bike and racing after Kent.
He blew out a breath, then spotted Diana in the doorway. She smiled and crooked
her finger, so he trudged across the grass.

“He hates me.”

“No, honey, he’s just a confused little kid. I think it’s
nice he latched on to your daddy.”

“Well, maybe…but I don’t know what in the hell I’m supposed
to do with him now. I think I can get the apartment back, but it’s so small. I
have a feeling that kid needs more…room.” He kissed her cheek. “Thanks for
coming with me.”

“Sure thing. But I’m gonna go now.”

He held onto her a second, desperate for her presence, but
unable to express how much the fact of her separation from him once and for all
yawned like a veritable, emotional Grand Canyon.

She grinned. “Y’all will be fine. Bring him out to the farm
if you want. Maybe he’d like to see the animals or something. I don’t know. I’m
not exactly the mama-type.”

She walked over the berm next to the pool, leaving him
breathless with dismay.

“Dominic!” His mother called. “Time to eat.”

When he got to the dining room, his family was arranged
around the big table, extended to its full length like for a holiday meal. But
there was no sign of Jace or his father.

“Where’d they go?” He took his usual spot to his mother’s
left, directly across from Kieran.

“Here we are,” his father announced, walking in with Jace,
who clutched a bottle of Dom’s patented Love Brewing root beer. “Sit right here
beside me.” Anton took his place at the far end of the table and patted the
kitchen chair next to him. “Lindsay, we’re gonna have to get a bigger table.”

The whole group watched as the kid blinked fast, then looked
up at his grandfather, clueless, it seemed, about how to proceed. He finally
slid into his seat, still holding the bottle, his gaze never leaving Anton’s.
When everyone joined hands for the blessing, Jace accepted Anton’s, but shook
his head at the one outstretched to his left.

Once thanks were given to the Lord for His bountiful
blessings and the addition of a fine young man to the Love family circle,
dishes began circulating. Jace kept hold of the root beer, his eyes widening as
his plate piled up. But he didn’t pick up his fork. As the conversation volume
increased, the boy seemed to sink deeper into his chair as if he wished he
could disappear. At one point, he met Dom’s gaze and his eyes narrowed.

“He’ll be all right,” Lindsay declared, patting Dom’s arm.
He hadn’t started eating either, he was so transfixed by the amazing reality of
his son. His stomach rumbled, reminding him he hadn’t had food since noon the
day before.