Chapter 2
This had to be the fiancé. He had rich tool written all over him. He was wearing a sweater around his shoulders in the world’s biggest cliché. Either he had spent the day with Ralph Lauren or he was just a pussy who needed a sweater in June.
Both made me hate him.
I don’t have a problem with rich people. I have a problem with assholes, and this guy, this Bradley Alexander, reeked of asshole. I’m an asshole, but I’m not a pretentious asshole. There’s a big difference.
“Who is this?” the older guy asked.
I assumed it was Bella’s father. I opened my mouth to introduce myself as Bella’s friend, but the fiancé smiled and stuck his hand out to me first. “Bradley Alexander. Are you the tent guy?”
That caught me off guard. I shook his hand. His grip was firm. Mine was firmer.
His skin was smooth, soft, like my son’s. Only Camp was a baby. This guy had to be close to thirty and had clearly never done a hard day’s labor in his life. I didn’t begrudge him that. Nice life if you can get it.
“Oh, the tent guy,” Bella’s father said. “Right. You two take care of that. I want a drink.” He never looked at me, just headed into the house whistling.
“I’m not the tent guy,” I said, annoyed and not sure why. There was no reason for Bradley to have any clue who I was.
He gave me a look like I was a fucking idiot. “I know,” Bradley said brightly as he turned from me and walked toward Bella. “You can deal with this, right, sweetheart?” He kissed the top of her head. “When you’re done meet me in your room so we can talk.”
Bella looked stricken. On the verge of tears again. Something was clearly wrong in her relationship and I didn’t want to give a shit. I shouldn’t give a shit. But I felt bad for her, damn it. That annoyed me. I tried to remember how bitchy she had been the night before calling me a loser. It helped. I tamped down my compassion.
“Thanks for the money,” Bella said, her voice a polite dismissal. “I appreciate the prompt return, though it honestly wasn’t necessary. I meant it as an apology.”
“I know. But it was too much money for a simple apology.” I stared at her. “Who does your fiancé think I am?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Sophie’s boyfriend?” She darted a glance back at the house. “Enjoy your afternoon.”
So damn polite. I lingered, wanting to trigger her impatience. See if she would tell me to fuck off as she so clearly wanted to. But she just watched me, her fingers fluttering over her neck, her eyes wide and slightly maniacal. She looked like she was going to cry again, yet she still wasn’t going to be rude. Apparently only alcohol made her pretentious.
“Thanks,” I said, willing to let her off the hook. “You too.” I backed up a few steps, slowly. Maybe I didn’t want to fuck Bella. Too complicated.
“Your brother might want to consider staying away from my sister.”
I paused. Cain and I had a lot of issues. Hell, the night before he had punched me in the face when I was bartending. Which was why we’d both wound up sitting in jail. But where the fuck did Bella get off suggesting my brother was bad for her sister? He was. But no one had the right to say that who wasn’t a Jordan. “And why is that?”
“He obviously has issues with alcohol and anger management and Sophie is inexperienced.”
I scoffed. So typical. “One could say the same thing about you last night,” I said, turning on my heel. I waved over my shoulder. “Have a nice life, Bella. Enjoy your wedding.”
She gasped at my words, but I didn’t stick around to hear if she had a response. It didn’t matter.
And I had a date with my baby mama. Cain’s ex-girlfriend, Ali. She had rolled back into town without telling either one of us and had asked to meet me for coffee.
Let the shit show begin.
What the heck was that? I wasn’t even sure why Christian had shown up at the house, let alone had lingered like that. My palms were sweating from the strain of being polite and my thoughts were scattered. Bradley had seemed strange. Hadn’t he? I wasn’t sure, and now I felt hot with anxiety. Pushing Christian out of my mind, I went into the house and ran straight up to my room, heart racing.
I wasn’t sure what to say to Bradley.
He was sitting on the chair in front of my vanity, slouched back, casual, legs apart. “Have you seen my phone?”
Shit. Of course he would ask about that immediately. I lied strictly out of panic. I wasn’t sure I was ready to confront him about his bathroom sex. “No.”
His eyebrows rose. “Call it for me.”
Fabulous. My cheeks bloomed with color. I guess we were doing this now. I pulled it out of my pocket and tossed it at him. “You left it here and I saw the texts, Bradley. About having sex with someone in the restroom at a bar.” A sob rose but I choked it back. I wanted to be dignified, unlike at my drunken party the night before. Not let him see how hurt I truly was. Never let anyone see you cry. I had lived by that mantra.
Bradley’s jaw dropped. “Bel, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to find out about that. It didn’t mean anything, you know that. It was just a totally meaningless fuck.”
I wasn’t sure what I expected him to say. There really couldn’t be any good reason for it and his response was textbook. An apology and a dismissal.
“That doesn’t make it okay.” Why was that always the justification? Well, as long as I swear it is just about blowing my wad, I can stick my dick anywhere? Technically, that logic could apply to prostitutes then as well. It was a ridiculous rationalization. “There was more than one woman. How long has this been going on?”
It was a question he clearly didn’t want to answer because he instantly shifted tactics. “Like you’re one to talk? I know you and Sophie are tag teaming that guy. Your dad told me he was on the home security video with you and you were both in your fucking underwear.” He shoved his phone into his pocket and sat up straighter. More aggressive.
I gasped, totally shocked. “I wasn’t tag teaming anyone with my sister. That’s so not me and you know it! And I was in pajamas and ran into him in the kitchen. That’s all.”
He acted like I hadn’t spoken. “I don’t care what you do in private. But don’t you dare embarrass me in public. If I ever hear that you were doing what you were doing today out where people can see, we’re through, do you understand?”
Now my hurt turned into full-blown panic. His tactic to turn it around on me had worked, and even though I knew that was what he had done, I couldn’t help myself. I fell for it because his words were terrifying. The idea of losing him, and it not being my choice, dropped on me like a bucket of ice water. “I would never do that! Bradley, please, don’t say things like that.”
I heard the pleading in my voice and felt a hot stab of shame. I was begging him. Him. The man who had cheated on me.
And he knew. And he smiled.
It was the worst kind of smirk. One of satisfaction. He was a man who had sailed through life untouched, arrogant. Getting exactly what he wanted.
He wanted me.
But he also wanted a tight ass and a bathroom blow job too.
My stomach roiled. My face felt hot. My vision blurred, and for a split second I thought I might faint.
Right then, something inside me changed. Forever. The trusting, nice girl got knocked flat on her ass and she couldn’t recover.
Bradley stood up. “Hey, it’s okay. I love you, Bel, you know that. I forgive you. Just promise me you won’t see that guy again.”
I didn’t say anything because I was just flat-out astonished. He was trying to confuse me, manipulate me, play me like a puppet. Part of me wanted to allow it. Because that would make things go back to normal. Because I was someone who didn’t like confrontation. Or anything that didn’t meet my idea of a happily ever after. But I couldn’t make this go away and it sat on my chest, heavy and ominous and overwhelming.
He closed the distance between us and cupped my cheeks. I stared into his eyes, studying his expression, seeking an answer. Where was the man I had fallen in love with? Who was this selfish asshole? Or had he been this asshole all along and I had chosen to see only the facade? I felt like I was going to throw up again.
“Having a trust fund is hard,” he said.
“What?” The change of subject baffled me. My heart was racing and I wanted to pull away from him, but I was frozen in place.
“Women throw themselves at me because I’m rich. I’m only human. Sometimes I haven’t been able to resist when I should have. I need to be stronger for you, but it’s really hard. Please be patient with me.”
Oh. My. God.
He wanted me to feel sorry for him? To feel sympathy that he had so much money that there was a constant parade of pussy in front of him vying for his attention? I haven’t had a doughnut since I was fifteen and it’s hard, but I’m not asking for sympathy. If I ate my way to four hundred pounds he would not be forgiving of me.
That thought had me rearing back in shock.
If I was trying so hard to perfect, and he still couldn’t stop his wandering eye and grabby hands, what would happen when I wasn’t perfect? Because at some point I would need support. That was life.
“Just block their numbers,” I whispered, my voice strained.
He seemed pleased with that response. Like he had won and was off the hook. “Done.”
His lips brushed mine and I struggled not to recoil.
“I love you, Bella. I can’t wait until you’re Mrs. Alexander. I’m going to be so proud to call you my wife.”
I blinked at him.
For my twenty-fifth birthday I went skydiving. Tandem style with the instructor. The free-falling had been my fear, but once I was actually doing it, it seemed oddly natural. A beautiful experience. But the snap of the parachute, and the sharp tug of the straps on my chest, along with what felt like a vertical lift, stealing my air, had been shocking and unpleasant. It was too drastic, too sudden. I had never gone back for a second dive because of it.
Bradley’s words were like that chute opening. I felt jerked into an air-robbing realization. Yanked up and out of myself.
I was going to be the wife. The showpiece. The breeder and the party planner.
Just like I had wanted.
But with one little twist.
There would always be a mistress or a hookup. Someone whose company he actually enjoyed.
It was the most humiliating shock of my entire life and I felt the depth of my stupidity. My gullibility.
“Thank you,” I said, my voice trembling slightly.
I thanked him, as images of the stationery my mother had ordered for me danced in front of my eyes. Mrs. Bella Rose Alexander.
Such a classy name, my mother had said.
Because classy was everything.
At the moment I didn’t feel classy.
In my head I was raging. I was slashing tires and setting his golf clubs on fire and howling like a wild animal. I was tossing back whiskey and throwing the glass at the fireplace while wearing the world’s sluttiest lingerie set ever. Inside, I was strong and powerful and confident, and he would never stray from me because I was so damn good in bed.
But outwardly I thanked him for wanting to marry me. Outwardly, I was pathetic, passive. God, it was cringeworthy. Disgusting.
And I fought the urge to shrivel and shrink and cry, and instead plotted my next move.
The future I had planned was gone. Destroyed. I could never get it back.
But I could get even.
When Bradley left my room with a smile, I texted Christian Jordan.
Can I see you?
My fingers were trembling.
Sure. When?
Tonight.
I was running out of time. My wedding was in seven days.
That wasn’t a lot of time to turn myself into a sexual ninja, humiliate Bradley the way he had humiliated me, and call off my wedding.
I had put Bella from my head already. Dismissed the idea of stripping her naked and showing her who was really in charge. I didn’t need her bullshit—like the shit she’d pulled in the bar the night before—but I didn’t need this reserved, polite facade she’d given me today either. Or her judging my brother. Cain was a fucking mess, but only family could say that. Everyone else could suck my dick.
Bella might be beautiful, but she wasn’t dick-sucking material. She was an uptight princess used to getting her way.
Yet I wasn’t even halfway to the restaurant I had told Ali to meet me at when I got a text from Bella. She wanted to see me. Tonight. Interesting. Whatever her douchebag of a boyfriend had said to her, it had sent her straight to me. I didn’t even hesitate. Fine. I’d listen to what she wanted.
Because while I wasn’t sucking down a bottle of Jack a night, I was just as destructive as my brother in my own way. I might not be damaging my liver, but trouble was like a red flag being waved and I was the bull. I charged toward it every fucking time.
Like Ali.
She was sitting in the seafood restaurant staring at her phone, her long blond hair tossed back over her shoulder. Ali was a beautiful girl. Similar coloring to Bella, though her face was a little rounder, her tits a little bigger. She didn’t move with the confidence of a rich girl either. That reserved expectation that people will wait on you. Ali was a hustler, always had been. Hell, she’d hustled me big-time.
We’d grown up together, her, me and Cain. Ali’s father was a maintenance man at the five-star hotel in town and her mother had been a teacher until she died of breast cancer when we were in grade school. Ali was on her own too much after that, and learned how to manipulate first her father, then other men to get what she wanted.
Including me.
I still to this day had no idea why she had lied to me and said she and Cain were broken up when they weren’t. Or why she thought it made sense to hook up with me, unless she had just been out to hurt him. That was all I could figure, because I wasn’t in her head. I had to admit, if you wanted to fuck with someone’s head, fuck his identical twin. Props to her for going through life not giving a fuck about anyone but herself.
“Hey,” I said, sliding into the chair across her.
This wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have. Truthfully, I never wanted to see her ever again. I had never thought of Ali as a sweet or selfless person, but I had never thought she was capable of abandoning her son either. When I thought of Camp and his innocence, his arms held out to me for a hug, I hated her for being such a cruel bitch. My son was everything to me. He was the only reason I wanted to be a better man. His smile, his solemn but sweet personality, gave me a joy like I had never known in my entire life.
And Ali had chosen to walk away from him. It was very hard not to rage at her. But I had to stay calm, for Camp’s sake.
It did my son no good for me to piss off Ali. Knowing her, she’d decide to go for joint custody just out of spite.
“Hi.” She gave me a smile. “You don’t look too banged up.” Her fingers drifted over mine, caressing my bruised knuckles. “Who won the fight, you or Cain?”
I jerked my hand away from her touch, disgusted. She looked smug that we had been fighting. My resolve to be cool wavered. “Nobody won, don’t you get that? Especially Camp. He’s the biggest loser in this whole fucking mess.”
“Why? He got good genes. We made a supercute kid, Christian.” She honestly looked bewildered.
I wasn’t sure if she was way stupider than I had ever known, or truly that narcissistic. I suspected it was a little of the first, a lot of the second. I wanted to swear at her, explain that she needed to be serious about all of this, but I reined in my emotion. “My mother is going to sue you for child support, on my recommendation. And if you want to see Camp, it will have to be at court-appointed times. I don’t know if you’re staying in town for a while or not, but no dropping over at my mom’s unannounced.”
Her jaw dropped. “I’m not paying child support! I’m his mother. Only fathers pay child support.”
She was not that dumb. She was just way too used to playing dumb to get what she wanted. “That shit isn’t going to work with me. My mother is his guardian. We share custody and I pay support to her. Now you are going to pay too.”
“Why doesn’t he live with you?”
The waiter came over and I ordered a Jack Daniel’s. I’m not one to day drink, but fuck me. I was going to kill her if I didn’t get a grip. “Because I’m a bartender. I work nights. I can’t afford a babysitter. It makes more sense for him to live with my mom, in a stable environment.”
“But your sister lives there too and she’s a stripper.” She said it disdainfully.
That was ironic.
And at least my sister was stable. She stuck around, paid her bills, helped me out with Camp. It was just a job, and it ticked me off that Ali would slam her for being a dancer when Ali was a liar and a cheat.
“And you’re a model citizen?” I asked, fighting the urge to say something stronger. “Miss Morality Maine?” I also wanted to ask why Camp didn’t live with her, but the truth was I didn’t want her to get some bug up her ass that it might be a good idea and go for custody, because it was actually a shit idea. I would fight her to the death for custody if it came to that. “You didn’t worry about right versus wrong when you lied to me and told me you and Cain were broken up.”
I had no excuse for having sex with her, other than a lifelong crush on her, but full disclosure, I had thought my brother was done with her at the time.
“We were broken up. He just didn’t know it yet.” She shot me a grin, like this was all hilarious. Her and me sharing an inside joke.
The waiter brought my drink. “Thanks, man.” I took a sip, trying to regain my composure so I didn’t say something I would regret.
“So is Cain really dating that brunette? She’s so plain.”
Sophie was a cute girl. And she appeared to have sparked something in my brother. An interest in something other than booze. She seemed smart as hell and not into playing games. I didn’t know what their actual relationship was, but I didn’t like the curiosity Ali was displaying in it. “They’ve been spending a lot of time together. She goes to Harvard, you know, and is supersmart. But why would you care?”
Ali lifted one bare shoulder. Her top exposed twin ribbons of flesh on either shoulder. Once I had thought she was beautiful. I had envied Cain for scoring the girl of my teen fantasies. I had even thought briefly that I was in love with her. Now all I saw was a selfish brat.
“I don’t care,” she protested. “I mean, it’s whatever. But she’s just…I mean, ick. And her sister is a hot mess. She puked in the bathroom last night.”
There are a lot of things that annoy me. I have just as many anger issues as Cain, I just don’t let them explode after a full night of drinking or walk about pissed off all day. I hide them under a smile and snark. So maybe Ali had no idea that I was raging inside. That I felt the anger coursing through my entire body and I had to keep my fists clenched under the table so I didn’t say or do anything that would jeopardize my parental rights to Camp.
But I was fucking livid.
I could not believe that she had not even asked to see her son. She had given plenty of thought to the appearance of Sophie and Bella and who Cain was dating, but she had not asked one question about the baby she had abandoned.
“And like her friend criticized my extensions, but not everyone has thousands of dollars to drop on their hair like they all do.”
I drained the rest of my whiskey and dropped money on the table to cover it. I stood up.
“Where are you going?” she asked, clearly startled. “I haven’t even ordered yet.”
I needed to get away from her or my head was going to explode. “Buy yourself a sandwich. I don’t see what we have to talk about. You’ll be hearing from the court about child support.”
Ali looked astonished. “That’s it? You can’t even have a friendly conversation with me?”
“You’re fucking delusional,” I said before I could stop myself. “No one wants to be friends with you. You didn’t go to Europe for the summer and come back. You abandoned our baby.” I took a deep breath, stopping myself from really letting loose with a rant. “Stay away from me, Ali. For real. Anything you need to say to me can go through the lawyers.”
“You’re a dick,” she seethed. “How dare you talk to me like that?”
That just made me snort and shake my head. It must be nice to walk around so blindly confident in your own delusional lies.
I was walking away when she said, “I am going to get Cain back. Just so you know.”
That was the most ridiculous thing I’d ever heard. Cain would slit his throat before he took Ali back. He was also going to be en route to rehab soon, but I wasn’t about to share that information with her. “Good luck with that,” I said. “You’ll need it.”
Craving fresh air, I decided to walk to my mom’s house. I wanted to see my son. Reassure myself that Ali hadn’t somehow abducted him for leverage. I knew that was completely irrational, but that little guy was just so amazing. He was the only reason I had for working hard toward my goal of owning a bar and financial freedom. When I looked at that kid, and he smiled, I didn’t regret anything about Ali and me, no matter how fucked up it was.
The house I had grown up in wasn’t exactly a dump, it was just unkempt on the exterior. The interior never changed. It was dated and drab and gloomy. As a kid, I had always been self-conscious about being the family with the dad in jail and too many kids. None of my friends had four siblings like I did and a mother who cleaned houses. Only my oldest brother, Camden, had felt the way I did. Cain, Cord—my second-oldest brother—and my sister, Charlie, hadn’t given a shit what people thought, and I had envied that.
Still did. I still felt the urge to punch anyone who looked down on me.
Or fuck them. Like Bella Bigelow.
The intriguing uptight Bella. I was curious to see what she wanted. More than I should be.
Strolling up the driveway to my mom’s house, I realized I should probably cut the grass for her. It was getting high, and that was the least I could do. She had sacrificed a lot of her time to care for Camp and had never judged me for the circumstances of his conception.
Then again, she wouldn’t. She had her own demons in her past—secrets that only I knew and none of my siblings had any clue about. About her and my father.
I opened the kitchen door and called, “Hey, anybody home?”
Charlie was sitting at the kitchen table, eating a bowl of cereal. “Hey, what’s up?”
She clearly had just rolled out of bed, her hair looking crazy, dressed in a baggy T-shirt and pajama pants. Given that she worked nights, that wasn’t surprising, yet it was still late afternoon. Kind of late even for her, but it was Saturday. Friday night must have been a late one. “Where’s Mom and Camp?”
“Camp is napping. Mom is driving Cain to Boston.”
“Already?” I asked, surprised. It had just been that morning that Cain had said he wanted to go to rehab. Right after he and I were bailed out of jail for fighting the night before. “I thought it would be next week or something.” For some reason, it bothered me that I hadn’t been able to say goodbye to him. We had cleared the air a little bit that morning, but it didn’t feel like it was enough. Then again, it would probably never be enough. There was some shit you couldn’t ever totally put behind you. And that was on me.
“There’s no reason to wait. He’s not in a good place, you know that.” She slurped cereal off her spoon. “He was here last week loaded and polished off one of Mom’s boxes of wine. He’s at the point where he can’t even control it.”
“What about Sophie?” I asked, opening the fridge, hoping to score a soda.
“Who?”
Mom’s fridge was damn near empty. “His girlfriend.” I slammed the door shut.
“Oh. That rich girl? I don’t know. I thought she was just a hookup. Summer lovin’.” Charlie ran a hand through her dark hair. “Can you stay here with Camp tonight? I have to work and Mom is not going to be home until tomorrow. I was just going to call you.”
I didn’t hesitate. “Sure. Fortunately, I have tonight off.” I was supposed to be meeting Bella, but she could either come here or it would have to be another night. “I’m going to order a pizza. I’m starving.”
First I wanted to peek in on Camp though. I went down the hall to my old bedroom and carefully opened the door. Nothing had changed in here either. It was still the same obnoxious bold blue, now scuffed with wear. The bunk beds Cain and I had shared were still in there, Camp’s crib shoved into a corner. The shelves and dresser were piled with both our ancient abandoned possessions and Camp’s toys. I really needed to get in here and clean some of this shit out. Part of me had been in a holding pattern, thinking something was going to change and I could have Camp in my apartment, maybe that I’d even somehow magically end up with a girlfriend.
But this was reality, and none of this was going to change. Ali was a bitch and I was never going to end up with a nice girl because I was drawn to women that I couldn’t have, because that was easier than attempting and failing at a relationship. So I needed to make the situation better for my son. Crossing the room as quietly as possible, I stared down into the crib at Camp. He was wearing shorts and a T-shirt, his arms thrown up on either side of his head. In his sleep his cheeks had grown pink, his blond hair damp. His breathing was even and reassuring. God, I loved this little guy. I didn’t deserve him, but I did love him.
He was adorable. Ali was right on that. We had made a cute kid, no question about it.
I knew there was a very real possibility he was actually Cain’s child, but we would never know the truth. So I just told myself he was mine.
It was reassuring to see him there, perfectly healthy, oblivious to his mother’s poor behavior. I dreaded the day I would have to explain to him why she wasn’t around. It kicked me in the dick every time I thought about it.
I texted Bella.
I have to stay with Camp tonight, so if you want to talk you have to come to my mother’s house.
That’s fine. Just give me the address. Eight?
That works.
Whatever she wanted, it would be amusing to see her reaction to my mother’s house. I was pretty damn sure Bella had zero experience with how the other half lives.
Given how late it was, I decided to gently shake Camp awake. If I let him sleep, he’d be up until midnight. My mother had him on a good schedule. Nap at one, bedtime at eight. Charlie had clearly put him down later than usual. He roused slowly, blinking up at me. I bent down and lifted him out of the crib, resting his head against my chest. “Hey, little man. Sleepy boy, you gotta get up.”
When I brushed my lips over the softness of his hair, I thought about canceling with Bella.
But she was the red flag and I was the bull.
An elusive tease to my snorting, lumbering self.
And I wanted to catch her.