Meant to Be (34 page)

As he walked away, Sid threw a dirty shot. “I never pegged you for a coward.”

Fucking hell. He spun and charged across the deck.

“How am I a coward, Sid? Explain it to me. Because last I knew, playing the coward meant getting out without getting hurt.” Too late for that. “This is a waste of time.”

“She’s hurting, too, you know. You’re both being stubborn about this.”

The temptation to ask overruled his common sense. “You’ve talked to her?”

“Yeah,” Sid said, taking a seat on the side of the boat. “Last night. She quit her job.”

“What?”

“Cassie tried to get her fired, but the firm wouldn’t do it. Told her she was a valuable asset to the research department. Didn’t matter, though; she’d already made up her mind.” Sid chuckled. “Curly has bigger balls than I gave her credit for.”

“But why?” Beth had been furious the day she’d told him Cassie would get her fired. Near panic over losing her job. Why would she walk away?

Sid shrugged. “Said she realized being a lawyer wasn’t for her. Something about her time with you helping her see that.” She hopped to her feet. “Beth was good for you, and by some bizarre twist, you were good for her. I don’t say a lot of sappy shit, so listen close. This kind of love doesn’t come along every day. Don’t throw it away.”

Joe wasn’t sure what to make of this softer, gentler Sid. Nor did he know what to do with what she’d just said. “I can’t, Sid. I can’t do that to Lucas.”

Sid shook her head and said, more to the air than to him, “Men.” Then she poked him in the chest, the old Sid returning. “This isn’t the playground, Dempsey. You don’t need to protect your baby brother. He’s a grown man, and he screwed up that relationship all by himself. Long before she fell for you.”

Joe rubbed his chest. “What are you talking about? She was going to marry him.”

“I doubt it,” Sid said, crossing her arms. “That night at the bar she was bitching about him never paying attention to her and how he was really married to his work. The fact is, you did them both a favor.”

“Stealing my brother’s fiancée sounds like the opposite of doing him a favor. Would you do something you knew would tear Randy apart?”

She scrunched up her face. “Me stealing a girl from Randy is too weird to think about, so I don’t know how to answer that. I wouldn’t hurt him if I could help it.” She shrugged. “But sometimes you can’t help it. Shit happens, and life gets messy. We’re family. We’d deal with it.”

Sid didn’t have the anatomy necessary to understand the situation. “I’m not doing it. End of discussion.” Joe crossed the boat to pick up the pole he’d thrown. “Let’s get this done.”

“Do you really think Lucas would hate you?” Sid asked, picking up the box of hooks.

Joe didn’t hesitate. “I know he would.”

Beth had been crying on and off for more than a week, resulting in the worst headache she could ever remember, when Lucas appeared at her door. After their last encounter, she was less than enthusiastic to see him. She felt bad for hurting him, and always would, but seeing him reminded her of what she’d done. And what she’d lost.

Or, rather, who.

“I’m not in any shape for company, Lucas, and I have a lot to do. I know I deserve them, but I can’t take another barrage of insults tonight.”

Hovering in her hallway, Lucas stood his ground, hands in his pockets. He wore jeans and a red polo shirt. Unusually casual for her former fiancé. “I’m not here to fight. I just want to talk.”

Beth sighed. “All right then. Come in.” She left Lucas to close the door behind him and headed for the tissue box. She was going to need them before this conversation was over.

“I’ve been thinking,” Lucas began. “And I’ve realized a few things.”

“What have you realized?” she asked, not sure she wanted to hear the answer.

“This wasn’t all your fault.”

She would have rolled her eyes if they weren’t so puffy and swollen. “If you’re going to start insulting Joe, I don’t want to hear that either. I told you this was my fault.”

“Hear me out. I’m saying some of the blame goes to me, too.”

Beth dropped into a chair, thankful there was one close enough to keep her from hitting the floor. “What do you mean?”

Lucas moved to sit on the couch, but all three cushions were covered in dishes, linens, and books. She should have gotten up to move them, but couldn’t find the energy to be a good hostess at the moment.

He sat on the edge of the coffee table instead. “I wasn’t there for you. And I don’t mean on Anchor, but before that. You said I never asked what was important to you.” He leapt up and began pacing. “I’ve driven myself crazy trying to remember a time I asked what you wanted or where you wanted to go. I never did, did I?”

Beth shrugged. “You let me pick the restaurant the night we got engaged.”

Lucas sat again, this time on the arm of couch. “Why did you say yes?”

How could she answer without hurting him more? “I’d like to think because that’s what I wanted. Because I loved you and wanted to be your wife.”

“But you didn’t, did you?” He asked the question with no anger or recrimination. Beth’s heart broke a little more.

“No, I didn’t.” She closed her eyes, unable to look at him. “I wish I could tell you I was madly in love with you or that being with you made me happy. But I can’t.” Opening her eyes, she kept them focused on her knees. “I’ve spent my entire life doing whatever would make other people happy. Marrying you would have made you happy. So I said yes.”

Lucas kneeled down beside her chair and lifted her chin until their eyes met. “It would have made me happy. I’d be the luckiest guy in the world. If you loved me.”

A tear slid down her cheek. “I wanted to. Whoever you do marry is going to be a lucky girl, Lucas Dempsey.”

He gave a crooked grin. “Not if I don’t get my priorities straight.” Standing up, he glanced around the room. “So you’re really going, huh?”

“Yeah, I’m going,” Beth said, wiping her nose with a tissue. “Not for good yet, but soon enough.” Waving a hand toward the sofa, she said, “I needed something to keep me busy. Packing seemed like a good distraction.”

“A distraction from thinking about Joe?” he asked, picking up a piece of newspaper and wrapping it around a glass.

Beth tried not to flinch at the mention of his name. Like trying not to blink when poked in the eye. “There’s nothing to think about. We both agreed there couldn’t be anything between us.”

“You agreed,” he said. “How’s that working for you?”

“Not well,” she admitted, blowing her nose in earnest. “Have you talked to him? Please don’t hold this against him. Patty said you two were close once. I know Joe wants that back again.”

“I haven’t talked to Joe, not since the night I made an ass of myself.” Lucas looked to Beth as if waiting for an argument. She remained silent. “Right. I’ve talked to Mom though. She says he’s a mess. Working himself to death and ripping the head off of anybody stupid enough to try talking to him.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Though
sorry
wasn’t the right word. Relieved to know he was hurting, too. Guilty for being the cause of that hurt. Tempted to race back to Anchor and throw her arms around him.

“I hear you were good for him. Brought back some of the old Joe.” Another sheet of newspaper, another glass
wrapped. “The way he was before Cassie chewed him up and spit him out.”

Beth froze, tissue midway to her nose. “We need to change the subject.”

Lucas added the new glass to the box. “We need to stop dancing around this. You love Joe. He loves you. I’d be an idiot to stand in the way of that.”

Shaking her head, she pushed the temptation away. “We wouldn’t do that to you. We couldn’t. I’m leaving for Boston tomorrow, and I’ll be settled there permanently in a few weeks.” Beth jumped from the chair and grabbed the piece of newspaper from Lucas’s hand. “Joe will get over this, and he’ll move on. Besides, he has all he needs. His island, his boat, and his dog. He doesn’t need me.”

“You’re being stubborn about this,” he said. “I admit, it’s not going to be easy to see you two together, but I’ll get over it. Eventually. Don’t be a martyr on my account.”

Why was he making this so hard? She’d spent a week convincing herself she and Joe could never be together. Rationalized every argument. Every but-maybe-if desperate thought. Didn’t he know he was making this harder?

“You need to leave,” she said, walking to the door. “I appreciate you coming over here and giving me the chance to explain. I really do. But I can’t talk about Joe. That’s over.”

“I see,” he said, joining her in the front hall. “What time is your flight tomorrow?”

“Why?”

“I can take you to the airport.”

She knew Lucas well enough to know he’d use any chance to argue his case. She couldn’t give him another
opportunity. “My flight isn’t until seven tomorrow night, so you’ll be at work when I’d have to leave. I can take a cab; it’s no problem.”

“You’re sure? I can leave early.” Lucas had never left early in all the time she’d known him. Maybe he
was
trying to get his priorities straight.

“I’ll be fine, thanks.”

He stepped into the hall, then turned back. “Think about what I said. You both being miserable isn’t going to make anyone happy. Especially not me.”

With that he was gone, leaving Beth standing with her door open, blinking into an empty hall. Once her wits returned, she slammed the door. “I am going to Boston, damn it,” she said into the mirror hanging on the wall. The red-nose woman staring back did not look convinced.

With Memorial Day weekend at the end of the week, the charter schedule was booked solid, which kept Joe running nonstop. Staying busy should have kept his mind off Beth, but it didn’t. He saw her standing at the rail or spread out on a bench in the cabin, crooking a finger in his direction, inviting him to join her. The woman was even haunting his dreams, making what little sleep he did get another form of torture.

By Thursday night he was exhausted, sore, and willing to book a lobotomy if that would get her out of his head. Dropping onto the couch, he ate half a slice of pizza with a can of soda and passed out in the middle of the game.

When the phone rang before dawn the next morning, he nearly rolled off the couch before figuring out where he was. “Do you know what fucking time it is?” he asked in greeting once he found the talk button.

“It’s four thirty in the morning, and you need to start packing.”

“What?” The voice sounded like Lucas, but that couldn’t be. “Lucas?”

“She’s leaving for Boston at seven tonight. If you don’t stop her, you’ll lose her for good.”

Maybe he was dreaming. Joe smacked the phone against his head to wake himself up. That hurt. Putting the phone back to his ear, he heard, “Are you listening to me? She’s leaving.”

“Who is leaving?”

“Beth, you idiot.”

Joe sat up and tried to clear his head. “Leaving for where? Did you just tell me to stop her?”

An exasperated breath came through the line. “Do you love her or not?”

If this was some kind of test, he didn’t have the brain function to pass. “Yes. But you—”

“Then come and get her before it’s too late.”

This didn’t make any sense. “Not a week ago you wanted to kick my ass. Now you’re telling me to go after her. If this is some stupid game, I’m not playing.”

“I was a moron. Not the first time, probably not the last,” Lucas said. “I know you two didn’t have an affair. Or at least you never hopped into bed together. I never should have believed Cassandra, but something did happen between you, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, it did.”

“Is she the one?”

Joe ran a hand through his hair. “She is. But I can’t.”

“Bullshit. Pack a bag, throw that mutt in the Jeep, and get your ass up here.”

Joe felt as if his life had capsized and he was being thrown a lifeline. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because Beth was right. You deserve happiness. And so does she.”