Chapter Twenty
Luke had said good night to the boys and Tiffie, the babysitter, and been on his way to Quail Ridge Community Hall to hear his stepbrother play with B-B-Zee when he’d received an emergency call.
Reenie Petrov’s pregnant palomino, Butterscotch, was showing signs that labor was beginning. Two or three weeks back, Luke had diagnosed the horse with placentitis, which put her at risk for a “red bag” delivery: a premature separation of the placenta. He’d told the owner to monitor Butterscotch closely and notify him immediately when she appeared to be in labor.
On getting the call, he’d phoned Viola using hands-free, knowing not only that he could use her assistance and experience, but also that she loved a challenging case.
It had turned out to be placentitis, but he and Viola had been able to save the foal and administer oxygen to combat any oxygen deprivation. They had monitored both mare and foal long enough to feel confident they’d both be fine, but he had asked Reenie to keep an eye on them and let him know immediately if she saw any indication of problems.
Driving home near midnight after saying good night to both women, he was tired but felt the warm buzz of satisfaction that his work so often brought. Islanders weren’t big on staying up late and he saw only another few cars on the country road. B-B-Zee’s last set must be finished by now and he was sorry he’d missed the show, but maybe he could make it tomorrow night. Luke and his stepbrother were about as different as two people could be, and he didn’t envy Julian his musical talent and fame, but he did like Julian and enjoyed hearing him perform.
As Luke approached the community hall, his headlights revealed a doe and fawn standing on the shoulder of the road. He stopped and waited as they gracefully sauntered across the pavement in front of him. Locals were careful on the roads here, but deer had no traffic sense and every now and then one of the lovely creatures was struck.
Slowly he drove away, rounding a bend and seeing that, sure enough, the parking lot at the community hall was almost empty. But his lights caught the front of a familiar van, parked near the road. It was Forbes’s. If he and Julian were still in the hall, maybe they’d be up for a nightcap. Luke was braking when, under the impersonal light of a parking lot lamp, he saw a man and woman pressed together against the side of the van.
A lean guy in black. Julian had picked up a groupie. No big surprise. That was another way in which the two of them differed. Julian seemed to have no desire for the things Luke so treasured: the love of a soul mate, marriage and kids, building a home together. The things he’d thought he might find with Miranda. So many times this past week, when missing her was a steady ache, he’d wondered if he had overreacted. He’d heard her as saying she didn’t envision their relationship heading anywhere serious, but maybe he’d misinterpreted. But even if that were true, how could a relationship work unless it was between two people who viewed themselves as equals?
Driving past, something made him glance back in the side mirror. At this angle, he could see the woman more clearly, and he almost lost his grip on the wheel. That was Miranda, with her arms wrapped around his stepbrother.
No! She’s mine!
He wanted to jam on the brakes, back up, run over, and plant his fist in Julian’s face.
A realization hit him like a punch in the gut: damn it, he hadn’t been falling in love with Miranda. He loved her.
Which was stupid, because clearly she’d made her choice. That told him everything he needed to know. No, he hadn’t misinterpreted her words. She might have hung out with Luke, but she hadn’t had strong feelings for him. Not if she could get over him so quickly. And of course it figured she’d hook up with Julian. When she talked about him, it was obvious she was a total fangirl. So much for the idea that she had changed. She was the same Miranda she’d always been.
Damn her and Julian both. And himself, for letting himself fall for her.
Luke floored the gas.
* * *
Julian didn’t touch her face, didn’t caress her body, just maintained the full-body contact and pressed his mouth to hers. His lips were hot, talented, unfamiliar. Sexy, wicked.
Wrong.
Damn, this was wrong. Miranda groaned, wrenched her mouth from his, and ducked under his outstretched arms to step to the side, away from temptation. Suddenly it hit her how chilly it was outside. She hadn’t put on her sweater when they left the community hall, and now she shivered, bare-armed and bare-legged in her tank top and brief skirt.
“What the hell?” Julian asked.
She bent to retrieve her sweater from her bag and pulled it on. “I’m sorry. So sorry. Believe me.”
He scowled. “You didn’t seem like that kind of woman. A tease.”
“I’m not. I wanted this, but . . .” She could have made an excuse, but Julian deserved better, and maybe she owed it to herself, too, to do the mature thing and be honest. “Has anyone in your family mentioned the woman Luke was dating? The one he broke up with?”
“Yeah. Uh, Miranda, was it?” He whacked his palm against his forehead. “Randy. Shit.”
“I’m sorry. Again. Still. Whatever. I gave you that name because, because . . .”
Looking disgusted, he said, “Because you knew I wouldn’t betray my stepbrother.”
“It’s not a betrayal,” she defended herself. “We broke up. He can date—or sleep with—anyone he wants”—though the thought was a knife in her heart—“and so can I. I just wanted, tonight, to . . . to be me, without any, you know, backstory. Without you already thinking bad things about me.”
“Can’t say I’m thinking good things about you right now.” Then, grudgingly, he said, “I appreciate that you decided to tell the truth.” He cocked his head. “Out of curiosity, why did you? Why call a stop?”
“Because it didn’t feel right.” She twisted her mouth. “Good, but not right.”
“Huh. Yeah, well it wasn’t right. So I’m glad that sank in before we took it too far.” He shook his head. “Fucking Destiny Island. This place is no good for me.”
She knew from Luke that Julian shunned the island, but it seemed kind of an odd thing to say, that the place was no good for him. “I used to hate it, but it’s grown on me.”
“Not gonna happen.” He shook his head, and then said, “Why’d you and Luke break up?”
“He said he and the boys deserve better than me.” She wasn’t about to add that Luke had also told her to grow up. Julian would no doubt agree.
“What? That doesn’t sound like Luke.”
“He’s right. I know I’m not good enough for him.”
Julian frowned and then sighed and said, “I’m guessing you’re better than you think.” Under the scattered artificial lights of the parking lot, his blue eyes got a glittery, glazed expression. “You’re better than you think. Song title. Song concept.”
Seriously? She’d inspired a song?
“Need to go home and write,” he said, opening the door of the van and jumping in. The engine started.
He was going to strand her in this parking lot? Ah well, creative genius. At least she had her phone and could call someone and get them to come pick her up.
The window opened. “Sorry. You need a ride. Hop in.”
She hurried around to the passenger door and climbed in. “I’m at SkySong. And I’ll shut up if you want to, uh, compose or whatever.”
“Thanks.”
Well, this is a first, she thought as the battered black van drove the night-quiet road. She could’ve been parking somewhere having sex with a superhot musician whom she’d lusted after forever. Instead, he didn’t even seem aware of her existence. Yet, despite her general state of misery, she felt content. For once in her life, she’d maybe done the mature thing.
Too bad Luke would never know. Or care.
* * *
Luke spent most of the night awake, fuming. The next morning, standing at his bedroom window and scowling out at a spring shower, he debated whether to follow his normal routine. He worked Saturdays. His mom, the teacher, didn’t. Forbes did his woodwork and music at home anyhow—the two-car garage had been converted, with a studio on one side and a workshop on the other—and set his own work hours. Since the grandparents welcomed any opportunity to spend time with their grandsons, Luke and the twins usually went over for Saturday breakfast and then he left the boys there for the day.
But Julian would be at the house, in his old bedroom. Or, rather, the room he’d once occupied, which he had years ago insisted on Sonia converting to a home office with a sofa bed. Luke’s old bedroom had been refurbed, too, with twin beds for grandson sleepovers.
One thing Luke was fairly sure of: Julian wouldn’t have spent the night at Miranda’s. Unless, of course, she’d sent Ariana to spend the night with a sitter, but she’d never done that before. She said that just imagining it gave her separation anxiety. He’d understood, remembering how he’d felt the first time the boys had been away from home overnight.
He and Miranda had seemed so compatible when it came to parenting. And sex. And other things, too. He’d thought he knew her pretty well by now. Damn it, the truth was that he’d nursed a secret hope that she would come to her senses, grow up, and return to him.
Seeing her last night, realizing in that moment that he loved her and that she didn’t give a damn about him, had shattered that idiotic notion. Obviously, he’d been deluding himself from the beginning, picturing Miranda as the woman he wanted her to be, not the one she really was.
Flexing his shoulders, he tried to work out the ache of tension. Whatever he was going to do this morning, he needed to get on with it.
Arranging a sitter at six-thirty on a Saturday morning would be problematic. Besides, he’d have to explain to his mom and Forbes, and the boys. Chances were, Julian would sleep in this morning anyway—worn out from performing onstage and elsewhere, damn him—and Luke wouldn’t have to face him.
He showered and dressed, then got Caleb and Brandon up and dressed, and collected all the paraphernalia for a day at their grandparents.
Arriving at the two-story house Forbes had renovated, he found his mom cooking banana pancakes and Forbes frying bacon and humming a cheerful tune. As Luke had hoped, Julian was absent.
After the grandparents hugged the kids, Luke said, “Sorry I never made it last night. An equine emergency.”
His mom kissed his cheek. “Did it come out okay?”
“A healthy foal and mom.” Texts from Reenie had confirmed it.
“That’s good to hear,” Forbes said. “But you did miss a great show.”
“I’m sure.”
“Julian was in peak form.”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” Forbes didn’t know the half of it, but Luke wasn’t going to bitch to him about his son’s behavior. “Listen, I—” He’d started to say he couldn’t stay for breakfast, when a male voice interrupted.
“Did I hear my name?” Julian, wearing sweatpants and pulling a ripped tee over his head, came into the kitchen. He had bags under his eyes but, on spying the twins, grinned and said, “Hey, it’s my two favorite nephews. Come give your uncle Julian a big hug.”
Both boys—unknowing traitors—threw themselves at him and lots of hugging, screeching, and mock wrestling ensued.
Maybe he was being irrational and immature, but too many things in Luke’s life felt like betrayals.
His dad, promising he’d fight the cancer but in the end succumbing. His mom, lost to him for years, first in her own misery and then in her new love. Candace in the hospital, in labor, learning about the complications and telling the OB-GYN that if it came down to a choice, the doctor had to save the babies. His sons, forgetting his existence in the joy of seeing Julian. All of them choosing something other than being with him. Loving him.
Miranda, shunning him, then less than a week later kissing Julian. Fucking him, most likely. “I need to go,” he said abruptly.
“Oh, Luke, do you have to go into work so early?” his mom asked. “It’s such a rare treat, having the whole family together.”
“Yeah, man,” Julian said, casting him a wary look over the heads of the boys. “Stick around.”
Luke ground his teeth. But he couldn’t avoid Julian for the rest of his life, and some primitive male instinct drove him to have it out with the jerk. “Can I talk to you? In private?”
Julian’s eyes widened, like he knew he’d been caught out. “Sure.” He detached little boy arms from his anatomy. “I’ll be back, kids. We’ll hang out today, okay?”
Luke led the way downstairs to the rec room and, when Julian sprawled on the battered couch, he remained standing, his hands fisted. He wouldn’t punch his stepbrother no matter how good it’d feel, but he could clench his fists all he wanted. “You look tired,” he said sarcastically. “Long night?”
“Yeah,” his stepbrother drawled. He gave it a long pause. “Writing music.”
“Yeah, like I believe that. I saw you.”
Eyebrows a few shades darker than his blond hair arched. “Saw me where, doing what?”
Anger heated in Luke’s body. “Kissing Miranda.”
“Ah.”
“That’s all you’ve got to say?”
Julian crossed his arms over his chest, sinewy muscles rippling. No doubt Miranda would’ve found that incredibly sexy. “You think I owe you an explanation?”
Luke ground his teeth. “Yeah.”
“The way I heard it from Sonia and Forbes, you two had broken up.” Julian had always called his father Forbes, never Dad. Luke figured it was one of Forbes’s hippie things.
“We broke up less than a week ago,” he told his stepbrother. “Where do you get off, making the moves on my ex?”
“Why do you care? You dumped her, right?”
“That’s not what happened.” It was Miranda who’d implied their relationship was heading nowhere, who hadn’t wanted to address her insecurities, who’d walked away from him.
Julian uncrossed his arms and leaned forward. “What did happen?”
“Did she say something?”
“Said you didn’t think she was good enough for you.”
“Gah! That’s not what I said.”
“Seems that’s how she interpreted it.”
“Yeah, I can imagine.” His anger dulled, Luke shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “She’s so damned insecure. I guess I basically told her to grow up.”
Julian let out an amused whistle. “Bet that went over well. Seriously, man, do you know nothing about women?”
“How would I?” he snapped. “Candace was my one and only.”
His stepbrother nodded slowly. “Miranda seems pretty different from Candace.”
“You can say that again.”
“And yet you were dating her. Attracted to her. You care enough about her that you’re pissed off she’d be with someone else, even though you’d broken up.”
Luke’s shoulders slumped. “Yeah. I guess.” It was hard admitting that to his stepbrother, yet it seemed he’d already figured it out. “That’s why it feels like a betrayal. By both of you.”
Julian rose and walked over to stand in front of Luke. “It wasn’t a betrayal. I didn’t know she was your ex, not until after that kiss.”
“Shit. She didn’t tell you? Didn’t she even give you her name?”
“She said it was Randy. I don’t know what she had in mind—maybe getting back at you, maybe just wanting some uncomplicated sex, but—”
“Maybe a serious case of fangirl-itis. She’s crazy about your music and told me she thought you were hot.”
Julian shrugged. “Anyhow, she stopped. We’d just started to kiss and she broke it off. Said it felt wrong. Told me about her relationship with you.” Another shrug. “I figure you should know that.”
“She did?” If that was true, it wasn’t a total betrayal. Maybe Miranda really did have feelings for him.
His stepbrother ambled toward the door. “I wasn’t the guy she wanted to be with,” he said over his shoulder. “And maybe she does have some issues, but you care and it seems like she does, too.” In the doorway, he turned to face Luke. “Why don’t you go after her? See if you can work things out?”
The two of them had never been close enough to share confidences, and it rubbed Luke wrong that now his stepbrother was acting like some kind of relationship counselor. He shot back with, “This advice from the guy who’s never spent more than a weekend with a woman?”
Julian’s features pinched briefly, almost as if his hookup record caused him pain. Which would be weird, since it was his choice to play the field rather than commit to one woman. “It’s up to you,” Julian said gruffly. “Me, I’m going to go eat pancakes.”
As he disappeared up the stairs, Luke took a deep breath and thought about his stepbrother’s unwanted advice. Should he talk to Miranda again?
* * *
“OMG, you kissed Julian!” Glory cried, dropping the biscotti she’d been dipping. She didn’t even seem to notice when it submerged in her latté.
It was Sunday morning—the Sunday after the Friday night kiss—and they were sitting on the couch in Miranda’s cabin while their daughters played on the rug with a couple of Ariana’s fairy dolls. Both moms had encouraged them to share, and so far they were doing it amiably, which was kind of miraculous given the bad mood Ariana’d been in since Luke had gone missing from their lives. The moms were sharing, too, with the biscotti Glory’d brought and the lemon bars Miranda had made, both plated on the coffee table Forbes Blake had crafted.
“Yeah,” Miranda said, gloomily crumbling her own biscotti. Yes, it was chocolate-almond, but even chocolate didn’t appeal to her these days. “And then I stopped. Not because it wasn’t good but, well, I couldn’t get past Luke.”
“The guy who dumped you. Girl, you’re entitled to hook up with someone else.”
“And if it had been anyone other than his stepbrother, I might have.” Or not. “I mean, I know I need to move on and all.”
“But you don’t want to because you’re hung up on Luke. Seems to me like you’re in love with him.”
If their little girls could share, she ought to be able to as well, and be honest with her friend. “Maybe. It doesn’t feel like the times I’ve been in love before.”
“How’s it different?” Glory reached for one of the lemon bars.
Miranda sipped her latté as she hunted for words. “It’s quieter. I mean, he’s really sexy and great in bed. It’s better than any sex I’ve ever had. But the whole thing, the relationship, it’s more comfortable.” She snorted and corrected herself. “I mean, it was more comfortable until he started telling me how immature I am.” She put her mug down on the coffee table with a thump.
“Guys can be so stupid. I hope you told him that.”
Shaking her head, she said, “What would be the point? He thinks he knows me, and he, well, isn’t that impressed.”
“He should be,” Glory said loyally. “And for heaven’s sakes, who in their twenties is, like, one hundred percent grown up? Yeah, maybe Luke, though I doubt that, but the rest of us are still trying to figure things out. Don’t you see the news? A huge number of Millennials, all they’ve ever done is go to school, and they’re living in their parents’ basements, off their charity, not even finding jobs. But you’ve supported yourself forever, you’re raising a wonderful daughter, and you’re studying for a new career. What could be more mature than that?”
“Doing it without having to come crawling to my brother for help?”
“Now you’re the one who’s being stupid. Everyone needs a little help now and then. And it’s mature to acknowledge that. Luke should know that.”
“He does.” And so did she, now. Glancing at her daughter playing with Gala, both of them so healthy and happy, she knew she could have made Ariana’s first couple of years better. If only she’d been willing to accept Aaron’s assistance from the beginning.
Turning back to her friend, she said, “No, the immaturity thing was about me being, to use his words, ‘insecure and self-defeating.’” She swallowed. “And I can’t argue with that.”
Glory opened her mouth in what looked like was going to be a quick protest, but then didn’t utter it. She pressed her lips together and after a moment said, “Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Her friend finished the lemon bar and then picked up her mug and spooned up a mushy mix of biscotti and coffee. Quietly she asked, “You really think he’s right?”
She shrugged. “If ‘insecure’ means thinking I’m not good enough for Luke, that I can’t measure up to Candace, that he deserves someone better, then yeah.”
“I think he’d be lucky to have you.”
“Aw.” She reached over to pat her friend’s hand. “Thank you.”
“I guess the point is that you need to believe that.”
For a couple of minutes, they drank—or in Glory’s case, spooned up—coffee and watched their daughters. Then Glory said, “How did this whole conversation happen anyhow? I saw you guys at the reception and you seemed super happy together. Dancing, all romantic. How did it suddenly go sideways?”
Miranda hunched her shoulders. “You know that big-haired brunette in the sausage-casing pink dress?”
“Winnie Bender, divorced and on the prowl?”
“I guess. Anyhow, I overheard her and a friend trash-talking, saying how Luke was just with me for the sex and how he deserved way better.”
“Shit!” Glory cast a quick look in the girls’ direction and lowered her voice. “Didn’t you see her with Luke? She wants him for husband number two and she’s jealous. Besides, she’s a total bitch. She says bad stuff about everyone. I think Aaron only invited her because he was inviting everyone else from our high school class.”
“She was being kind of mean about Iris, too. But, whatever. The point isn’t what she said, it’s what Luke did.”
“So, like, what?” Frowning, Glory said, “You overheard Queen Bitch, went back to Luke, and asked him if he figured he deserved better than you, and he agreed?”
“Kind of.” She rotated her shoulders and reached for her mug again. “I came back and I guess I was in a bad mood. It seemed like everything he said reinforced my fears and I was, well, kind of bitchy myself. So he asked what was wrong and I told him what I’d overheard. He didn’t rush in to tell me I was terrific, he asked if I thought I was good enough for him. Well, I could hardly say yes, could I? I mean, not when he’d be comparing me to Candace. So I said no, and then he said he and the boys didn’t need to be involved with someone like me.”
“Ouch.”
Miranda scowled. “And okay, it’s true, but he should’ve realized that in the beginning! He shouldn’t have asked me out, got our kids playing together, or introduced me to his folks. Shouldn’t have made me care, and hope, and—” She broke off, shaking her head, near tears.
“You really do love him,” Glory said quietly.
“Oh, shit.” She hung her head. “I don’t know. Is it possible that it feels different from other relationships because this time it’s the real thing?” Was that why she’d been so utterly miserable for the past week? More miserable than when any other man in her past, even Ariana’s father, had dumped her.
“If it’s the real thing, isn’t it worth fighting for?”
Feeling pathetic again, Miranda stared across at her, eyes swimming with unshed tears. “I haven’t a clue how to do that.”
Glory smiled sympathetically. “Yeah, you try to tell a guy how you’re feeling and most of the time he just doesn’t get it. But girlfriend, you’re tough like your dragon. You can figure this out.”
The supportive words were sweet to hear, but Miranda was afraid her friend’s confidence in her was unfounded. And yet . . .
Gala gave an angry squeal and tossed a fairy doll across the floor.
“Too good to last,” Glory said, and rose to intervene.
Miranda remained on the couch, deliberating. She thought about her dark, pessimistic side, the pathetic one that told her she was worthless and powerless, that seduced her toward depression. Once, her only tool for fighting it had been a shiny silver razor blade.
She gazed down at her left forearm and ran a finger over her dragon’s scales. Strong and smart and fierce. Aaron had called her that, way back when she was thirteen. Glory had reminded her that she was tough.
“Okay, dragon-girl,” she murmured. “What’s your next step?”