I eavesdrop as I tread soundlessly into the back hallway, two steaming coffee mugs in hand and Patty jogging along ahead, oblivious to the trouble she caused me this morning.
“So, did she freak?” Jamie says. The room echoes, thanks to Tom’s executive decision.
“Yes. I’m not doing that again,” Tom replies, and there’s the sound of bricks being moved. “She kicked my ass. Seriously, why did I listen to you?”
Jamie responds like it’s a stupid question. “Because you give her anything she wants. If you asked her first, she would have made those big eyes at you, and you’d be rebuilding a fireplace that you know will cost us money in the sale. Come on, the place looks huge. She’ll get over it.”
“Yeah, I know the eyes you mean. She’s good at those.” Bricks, a grunt. “I do think the wall coming out was the best thing for the renovation. But she’s not something for us to get around.”
“She kind of is,” Jamie says, wicked as usual.
Tom replies in a growl. “She’s part owner. I’m never doing it again. Move, Patty.”
“Okay,” Jamie agrees after a beat. “Better tell her about the dining room now.”
Exasperation. “I’m not telling her. I’m asking her.”
“Asking me what?” I walk in like I’ve got impeccable timing. “Well? What? Chris will be here in fifteen minutes. How do I look, boss?” I smile widely at Tom. “I’m finally in uniform.”
“A little big,” Jamie says dismissively.
I give him a dark look. “Truly’s going to alter it for me.”
Tom stares at my Valeska Building Services shirt and I think he bursts a blood vessel. Or chokes himself. Something instant and painful. It’s a huge fluorescent polo in a fabric blend I don’t really care for. It’s unbuttoned at the neck and the top of my bra is showing. This bra is a ten on the Richter scale. I am a bad person. As he watches, I gather the hem and knot it at my hip.
“Looks fine,” Tom says robotically, but I’m honestly surprised he doesn’t just walk over, pick me up over his shoulder, and carry me out.
“Who’s Chris?” Jamie hates being out of the loop. “Why’s he arriving in fifteen?”
I hand the second mug I’m holding to Tom. “He’s reinforcing the foundation on the downhill-slope side. And he’s late. I told him to bring us doughnuts to apologize for his poor time management.”
“I need that so bad,” Jamie tells Tom with a slight tremor in his voice. He holds out two fingers for the coffee mug. “Gimme.”
Sugar is my blood type; caffeine is Jamie’s. It’s the crutch that keeps him upright and functioning. Tom just takes a sip in response. High five.
Jamie huffs. “Where’d you get that?”
“She has a coffeepot in her bedroom,” Tom says, then freezes like he’s busted.
“Okay, thirty seconds.” Jamie makes a beeline to the back door. “There’d better be a third mug.”
“Couldn’t cover that with makeup?” Tom’s looking at the hickey on my neck. “I’m going to have to deal with guys looking at that all day, thinking about you.” A memory eclipses his eyes black. He presses his thumb against it and no doubt feels my pulse. “That’s mine to look at.”
I can’t stop myself from tiptoeing up to press a kiss on his jaw. His stubble is like sugar crystals on my lips. He’s forgotten my brother. He’s forgotten anyone who isn’t me.
“Let them look. I know who gave it to me.”
“They’ll know, too. They’re not idiots.” He looks at the back door and his next words are barely audible. “I can’t believe Jamie’s not picking up on it. Your clothes fall off around me.” His fingernail drags across the corporate embroidery. “Am I a complete animal for loving my name on your chest?”
“You’ve always been a complete animal, Valeska. I’ll explain it to you sometime.” I tiptoe up to his ear. “When I’m wearing this and nothing else.”
I’m wasting time. I only have a minute. I’ve never told a man I love him, and this is the only one I’m ever going to tell. How do I do this right?
“Hey, what you were saying before . . .” How do I frame it? I’m scared I’m going to open my mouth and scream it in his face. I swallow and huff out a breath. “I wanted to tell you that—”
“I know.” He cuts me off easily and I sink down from my tiptoes. He knows? Or he doesn’t want to hear my cringeworthy attempt at a declaration? He knows I’m emotionally stunted and is trying to spare me. How embarrassing to not be able to match his softness and depth.
He runs a hand down my collar to tidy it but ends up pulling me closer. He bends down to inhale at my neck. “Alex better have washed this shirt.”
“He did. I think.” This is what is easy between us. The lust.
The thought of another man’s smell on me has him boiling down into his base self. It’s palpable; the air snaps electric and I’m desperate for his hands on my skin. He’s hard against me. If we were alone, he’d put me against a wall and himself in me.
We hear my brother grumbling and Tom puts a few feet between us.
“I don’t know how you’re physically capable of this.” I look at the front of his pants. “What does it take to wear you out?”
He’s still looking at his name on me. “Probably impossible.”
One of my knees unlocks at the thought. “Anyway, what the hell? Not a drop from the massive hole in the ceiling, but the kitchen has a water zit?” I point up at the heavy brown bulge on the kitchen ceiling.
Tom shrugs, unfazed. “Welcome to my life.”
“I counted four condom wrappers on the floor. I’m impressed, Darce.” Jamie booms it so loud I hear the flap of pigeons on the roof, and Patty yaps.
Tom melts clean through the floorboards.
“It was nearly five,” I whisper to Tom. “But . . . priorities.” I remember his hand twisting my hair, tugging on my scalp, begging me. Darce, Darce, no, okay, yes.
I almost feel bad for tormenting him. His coffee is spilling in a thin stream on his boot. Footsteps clomp up the back stairs, heavier than mine but the same cadence. The screen door slaps and Jamie’s back.
“Christ on a cracker, not even I’m that prolific. I’d give him a high five if I wasn’t beating him up. No wonder you were nearing total heart failure.” Jamie shambles in, coffee in hand. “Better let her recover this morning, Tom.”
“Yeah, Tom. Maybe you should go easy on me.” I sip from my highly appropriate mug.
I know this whole situation is high-stakes serious, but I’m hurting from holding the laugh in. “The virginity ship sailed many moons ago. I don’t get why you’re trying to be so macho and brotherly. It’s not impressing Tom.”
“Hey, I don’t see this mystery guy here right now, do I?” Jamie gives me a look and miraculously I don’t crack under it. “Any guy who just walks out on you after that kind of effort is a piece of shit. Can’t you find someone who takes you out for waffles the next day?”
“He definitely would. He’s just . . . busy. Wait, is that what you do?” I never once found a girl having breakfast in this kitchen. Maybe Jamie’s gotten romantic since moving to the city.
Jamie puts a hand on his hip. “You’re damn right I do. And I’m sure Tom would treat a woman better than that. What would you do if you saw some guy sneaking out of her room in the wee hours?”
Tom looks into his coffee mug, thinking. He can easily pass this test of Jamie’s. His eyes meet mine, and they’re brutal honesty. “I’d fuck him up.”
I give him a withering look.
Jamie nods at Tom, satisfied. “Just get someone decent, Darce. Tom and I want to get wasted at your wedding and grind on your bridesmaids.” He begins dancing, slow and sensual, with his mug held in front of him. He figured out when he was five years old that women love a guy who dances and it’s served him well.
“Check out this body roll.”
It’s a good one. He doesn’t even spill his coffee. Tom and I laugh, which only encourages him. This is what happens at parties. Jamie gets carried away, there’s a ring of people clapping around him, and he ends up kissing a girl against a wall near the bathrooms.
I shake my head. “If you do a surprise choreographed dance at my wedding I’m gonna kill you, Jamie.”
“He would,” Tom agrees, his eyes fond. He loves my ridiculous brother.
Jamie’s grinning. “I’ll do one, with your hottest friend. Who is she?”
“You know who.” I wait and wait, until I’m forced to supply it. “Truly Nicholson, from high school. She’s such a goddamn peach. If I was gay, or the boy twin, I’d marry her.”
Jamie coughs wetly. I think he prefers his women a little sparse. Now the fun is gone.
“So, we want to tell you . . . No, wait. Tom, you do it. You’re good at asking her things.” Jamie regards me thoughtfully. “I bet she’d say yes to anything you ask her.”
“I’d say you’re right,” my mouth says without my permission. My toes are curling in my shoes.
Tom reboots his mainframe computer during a lengthy sip of coffee.
“Now that this is gone,” he says, meaning the wall, “I think we should turn the dining room into a third bedroom. This is a two-bedroom cottage, which isn’t as appealing for a family buyer. If we wanted, we could make it the master and add a small en suite. An extra room, an extra bathroom.”
Jamie finishes the thought. “Extra bucks. A lot extra.”
“Sure,” I say, and finish my coffee in one hot swallow.
“Wait, what? You just agree?” Jamie tags along behind me as I go into the kitchen.
“What do you mean, do I just agree? I’m the reasonable one, when I’m asked correctly.” I give Tom a look and he cringes in apology.
There are still tiles on the wall where the counter used to be in the kitchen. I get the crowbar and pop them off with neat little movements, because I’m a show-off.
I say to Tom, “It’s a good idea. But if we’re going to cut back all the shrubs, headlights will shine into that room at night. We’ll need some good blinds. And I want the fireplace in there kept. Even just for decoration.”
“Okay,” Tom says. He’s got a note of disbelief in his tone.
“Wait, wait, wait. We’re all agreeing? This place will be done in no time.” Jamie looks at the crowbar. “Give me a go.”
“No.” I try to hold on to it but it’s no use. My brother is the much bigger, muscled version of me. He plucks it out of my fist with two fingers. I look up above us. “This water damage looks bad.”
“Tom’ll fix it,” Jamie says without any thought. Every single time we say things like this with such confidence, the pressure on Tom just gets worse.
“We’ll all fix it, together.” I put my hand on his phone in my pocket. I wonder what else Jamie and I can do to help him breathe out a little more.
“You’re not doing any more work,” Jamie says to me. “You were a ghost barely half an hour ago and you’ve been up allll night long. You’re fired.”
“I took my medication. Tom, I’m fine now. Tell him.”
Jamie taps the crowbar in his palm. “No, you tell him about how you got dizzy in the bathroom and practically collapsed after a day of no food. You were all white from low blood sugar. My mole gave me the update.”
“I didn’t.” I look between them both. “Tom, it was barely anything.” Tom’s eyes change as my little heart-sized betrayal sinks in.
“Even when I’m not here, I know if something major’s up.” Jamie shoulders me aside and begins smashing tiles. He’s leaving big shards intact instead of popping them off clean. “I’m protecting my investments.” My brother is performing shoddy workmanship with a smile on his face. Why should he do anything carefully or perfectly? He was born male. “Connections, plus twin senses, equals Jamie knows everything. And I know you guys are getting pretty chummy.”
I don’t let myself bat an eyelash. “Let me keep trying.”
“No.” Tom’s mad at me for lying. “No more physical work.” Patty is looking at me even more gimlet-eyed than usual, balanced in the triangle of his arm.
“Great. Less than one hour since my brother arrived, and I’m kicked off my own project.”
Tom looks at his watch. “In a minute or two, that phone is going to start ringing, and it’s not going to stop, believe me. I’ve got a bunch of rental equipment to get and quotes I haven’t finished chasing up. You know that’s what I need you for.”
“And hey, she has a coffeepot,” Jamie says.
“You’re not fired,” Tom says with a vicious glare at Jamie’s back. “You’re reassigned. Focus on the sold sign, not a box of broken tiles. Get big-picture with me here, DB.”
I need to pull back and reframe on the bigger, more beautiful picture of kissing Tom Valeska every minute of every day until we die of exhaustion. There’s no point in scraping off the wallpaper if I’m too dead to have him after the sale check clears.
Tom is speaking like Jamie isn’t here. “I’ve never run my own business, but you have. That’s what I need help with. Valeska Building Services cannot function without you.”
The protective beast inside me can’t refuse. “Can I have a job title?”
“Deputy site manager of Valeska Building Services?” He has a spark in his eyes when they flick down to the polo top that’s doing it for him better than a strappy set of lingerie. “Yeah, that suits you.”
“Hear that, Jamie? I just got a promotion.” I wonder if I slept my way to the top.
“He’s got a soft spot for you about a million miles wide,” Jamie grumbles. “And you take advantage of it, Deputy Darcy.”
I guess my mouth is curling in a smile because Tom gives me a look like, Don’t.
“What’s your next flip?” Jamie doesn’t wait for Tom to reply. “I’m buying that house the street back from my parents. It’s not beach front but still a good location, and so cheap. What a dump. I need you to go get it inhabitable.”
“Maybe,” Tom hedges. I know he’s thinking about his budget miscalculation.
“After this, Tom is not doing us any more favors.” I try to take the crowbar back. “He’s free and clear.”
Jamie is making a brutish mess of the tiles. He decides in his mind that he’ll convince Tom and moves on. Next topic. “I need to see whether I can get the time off for your heart appointment. Give me the date.”
“How do you even remember these things? You don’t need to.”
“Christmas, Easter, Darcy’s heart. I’ve come with you every single time since we were born,” Jamie says, swinging the crowbar at his side like he’s thinking about braining me with it. “You’ve skipped two years now. The damn thing is probably about to conk out. Even if we aren’t technically talking to one another right now, I’m still coming.”
He’d fly to my doctor’s appointment? “Why?”
“I’m your walking talking organ donor. I’d better make myself available.”
“You’ve got one heart, you idiot.”
“I know,” Jamie says. “I’m keeping it warm for you.”
My idiot twin still loves me. I can’t help it, I wrap my arms around him and squeeze until I feel his ribs creak. He does it back to me and now we’re locked in a classic Barrett stranglehold. Tighter and tighter.
“Ow, ow,” I cry as my boots leave the floor and Jamie begins shaking me around like a dog. “Too much, Jamie, down.” Patty is jumping around beneath my toes, barking and nipping. I hear Tom laughing. Life is golden. I’m going to live forever.
“Send me the appointment details,” Jamie repeats as he puts me down. He’s flushed pink and smiling. I’m sure I’m the same.
“What if I’ve got someone else to come, too?” Maybe Tom’s presence in the appointment will help the damn thing beat properly for once.
“Who? Mr. Hickey? Introduce him to me, and I’ll consider it.” Jamie grins over at Tom, willing him to join in on the messing-with-Darcy game. He pushes me back out of our hug, but not in a mean way. “I didn’t know you finally disclosed your little cardio situation to a guy. Must be serious.”
“Maybe I will introduce you. You’ll like him.”
“I doubt it. Have you seen this guy, Tom? Let me guess. He’s forever seventeen, with a shank in his pocket.”
Tom can’t help himself; he laughs out loud. Jamie is gratified and begins hacking away at the remaining bits of tile on the wall.
“I’m going to introduce you to a guy I work with. A real adult human male. That’ll be a novelty for you, Darce.” Jamie grins at Tom to see if he laughs at that one. “His name is Tyler.”
“Say no more. He sounds repulsive.”
“It’s not his fault that his parents named him that. He’s tall, likes walking and animals and all that shit chicks love. He has a motorcycle and the looks.” He turns to me to impress that very important selling point. “A motorcycle.”
Behind him, Tom crosses his arms.
“He’s down this way for a conference next week. I’ve given him the address. He’s going to pick you up and you can go for a ride. On his motorcycle.” To Tom, Jamie winks conspiratorially. “One of my foolproof plans.”
I kick my brother’s shin. “No. If he turns up, I’m going to turn the garden hose on him. Quit messing with my love life.”
“Love life? Love?” Jamie chortles. “You’ve never said that word in your life. Love life? More like your vigorous sex life.” He reaches toward my neck to pat at my hickey and doesn’t notice how Tom’s changing behind him. “Hope that fades before Tyler gets here.”
“No plans. Forget it with that guy,” Tom advises my brother, his voice dipping down into that tone that my ovaries like. “What did I just say? I’ll fuck him up.”
“Not required,” I say, and maneuver the conversation swiftly back to my brother. “Still with that beautiful tall greyhound?”
“Rachel? I broke up with her. She kept dragging me past jewelry store windows. I’ve got my eye on someone else.” Jamie realizes something and his mouth drops open. I hope that’s what I look like when I smile. “I’d probably be the one dragging her past a jewelry store window.”
For just one moment, he’s filled with stained-glass color and his eyes brighten to cornflower blue. I wish I had my camera. Then he remembers something and resumes a half-hearted chipping at the wall.
I exhale. “Well, I’m glad she’s not getting Loretta’s sapphire. Thank fuck for that. I don’t suppose—”
“No. She left it to me. It is for my bride.” Jamie says my bride in a stupid falsetto voice. Heaven help whoever he eventually decides on.
“At least let me wear it. Or look at it.”
According to Loretta, the sapphire turned black from being buried in a flowerpot during the war. Which war, I’m not sure. Is it the truth? Not sure. My favorite ring in the world is now living a fate worse than a flowerpot’s: It’s in Jamie’s safe.
“Name your price.” I just can’t shut my mouth. “I’m guessing a cool billion?”
He’ll never budge on this. “I’m gonna need that ring one day. The twins aren’t getting any younger. Time for us to find a couple of unlucky victims to deal with our bullshit, for life.”
“I’m sure your bride would prefer something from Tiffany. Let me have the ring, please. I might . . . I might not be around that long.” I let my voice go feeble as I play the crappy-heart card and Jamie sees right through it. Even Tom half laughs, his possessive bristling easing off.
I sigh and give up. “Make sure she’s someone I won’t hate, sitting there wearing my ring when we all go on that cruise when we’re eighty. She’ll come drink whiskey Old Fashioneds with me before lunch and maybe let me try it on.”
If Tom has a wife and it’s not me, I’ll lure her out of his cabin at night and hoist her old bones overboard.
“We’re going on a cruise when we’re eighty? Can’t wait. I’m going to be so loaded.” Jamie smiles, positively romantic about his future bank account. Then he remembers something. “Don’t get your hopes up. She thinks I’m a nightmare. But yeah. She’d day-drink on a cruise ship with you.”
It’s a sore point and I really, really want to press it, because Jamie is actually having to do some chasing for once. I love her, whoever she is. “Well, sounds like she’s got your number. What’s her name?”
“Nope.” His ears are red. Frustration gets me right by the throat. Judging by his body language and the crowbar in his hand I’d better leave it. Once, I knew every single thing about my brother. How can I get back to that place if he forever shuts me down?
I wonder if Tom knows. He shakes his head with a shrug.
“Can’t wait to go on that cruise with you and your elderly husband, Tyler,” Jamie tries, but I wave him off with a scowl.
“So, we’re agreed, this is a bedroom?” Tom is in the entrance to the dining room, and also his own personal hell. I know what he’d whisper about Tyler—in the dark, rhythmically knocking the air out of me. That fucker cannot have me.
He’s buckling something around his waist, slow, like it’s revenge. It’s an honest-to-goodness tool belt. There’s a hammer on one side. It sits low on his hips and I can’t take it.
Everything boils up inside of me, and the floor vibrates under my feet, my bones shake, my heart bumps. The stitches unravel out of the shirt I’m wearing, my heart unspools like cotton and I can’t handle ten more seconds of not kissing him. I put my hand on my hickey and bite my lip. I clench everything so I don’t make a sound.
He convinced me last night that I’m beautiful. From the look in his eye, I convinced him he’s a sexual genius. The faintest smirk touches his lips. “Darce? You want a bedroom, right?”
I cough to clear my throat. “Make it a room fit for a princess. Wallpaper and a fireplace and a four-poster bed. Make someone fall in love with that room.”
“Sure, like it’s so easy,” Jamie replies to me with some snark in his voice. “He’s not your slave.”
“Oh, ’cause he’s your slave?” Tom’s phone buzzes in my pocket. “Tom, it’s your mom. Gosh, pretty early for her.” I hand him the phone. Then I round on my brother. That familiar feeling is in the air. A Barrett Battle.
“So, you got Tom to knock down my fireplace.” I know this is wrong. This won’t lead to anything good. But I have to start getting Jamie used to the fact that Tom is going to choose me over him from now on.
“I told him I trust him. Isn’t that what you do? Trust him? Why not now?” Jamie plants his feet right where the fireplace was and holds out his arms. “The room is huge. There’s some chance of making it look modern now.”
Tom is speaking in soothing tones on his phone and slips out the front door. “He’s going to crack,” I say as I watch him leave. “How much more can get piled on him? I’m trying to help him.”
“You’re never going to help him. Ever. You’re a monkey on his back.” Jamie hopes that hurt. When it doesn’t, he tries again. “He’s only here because I asked him to be.”
“He’s only here because I’m here.” I’ve just blurted the wrong thing, and this time Jamie doesn’t mistake what I mean. He laughs and looks me up and down like I’m nothing special.
“Who do you think you are?” He asks it sweetly. It’s those same words he used in our big fight. The words that echo in my head every time I take out the trash at the bar or open a box of fifty novelty mugs.
“Who do I think I am? I’m Darcy fucking Barrett!”
Jamie laughs now. My short charade is over, clearly. “You think you have a chance with him?”
My temper is an erupting volcano. “I do have a chance!” I point at my neck. “That’s his! He’s mine now!” It’s so satisfying, watching the air leave Jamie’s body. It’s luscious. I’ve won. “He’s mine. He loves me. I’m keeping him.”
“Keeping him,” Jamie splutters. “Keeping him? You’re sleeping with Tom? Darcy, what did we talk about?”
“You can’t stand to see me happy.”
“Oh, and Tom looks so fucking happy,” Jamie counters. “Did you at least handle the morning after like a grown up?” He sees the minute hesitation in me and swoops on it. “You just did what you always do. You enjoyed yourself, did zero feelings, and you’re going to be gone the next time a flight goes on sale.”
“Not this time I won’t.” I even surprise myself with my intensity. Jamie blinks and backs up, but he quickly rallies.
“Only because you have no passport. Ever find that thing?”
“Give. It. Back.”
“I don’t have it,” Jamie says, and he’s telling the truth. He looks out the front window, distracted. “Seriously, Darce, why’d you have to pick Tom? He’s way too good for you. You took advantage of him. He’d do whatever anyone asked him.”
“Well I asked an awful lot of him last night.”
“See? Compare yourself to him, would you? He’s nothing but good and honest and deserving of a happily-ever-after. You’re just . . .” Jamie racks his brain. “You’re human flotsam, you know that?”
The phrase hangs in the air like a gong.
“What did you just call me?”
Jamie recovers seamlessly. “You’re trash compared to him.”
“No. Call me what you called me the first time.” I feel like my veins are full of hot water. “You called me human flotsam. Human flotsam.” I advance on him and he begins to back away. Images of Truly’s phone flashing with repeated notifications begins to make sense. Her blush. Her averted eyes. The way she changes the subject from Jamie, every time without fail. “How? How did you get to her? Truly is your worksite mole?”
I pick up a brick and throw it at him. It hits the wall and takes a chunk out of it. Jamie bends down for a brick of his own. Now it’s on. It’s World War IV, with bricks instead of a dinner set.
“I can talk to whoever I want,” he yells back at me, and throws the brick past my hip. “I don’t have to fucking answer to you.”
“She’s mine. My friend. My best friend.”
“Well, he’s mine.” We circle around each other, furious. This is the fight that we never got to finish. A thin trickle of water runs between us but I barely register it. All I can see is my brother’s furious face, red embarrassed ears, and the sheen on his brow.
I scream in frustration. “How? Tell me how you got her. Explain it to me.” I pick up another brick and weigh it in my palm. I imagine throwing it at his face and it’s vivid. “You couldn’t just leave that one person alone. The one person I wanted all for myself.”
“She’s my friend!” Jamie roars.
“No, she’s not!” I throw the brick and it takes a devastating chunk out of the floorboard. “Just because you think you’re God’s gift to women doesn’t mean she’ll fall for it.”
That knocks some wind from his sails. I remember what he said—She thinks I’m a nightmare. “I’m telling the truth, Darcy. She’s one of my best friends. We’ve been emailing each other.” I laugh derisively at that, but Jamie silences me. “I needed a way to keep an eye on you after our fight. I emailed her from the Underswears website. She replied. I liked it.”
I advance on him with my hands outstretched. I’m going to kill him. And her. And everyone. “Jamie, you little fuckwit.”
“Stop it,” Tom says from the open doorway. He’s got his phone in his hand and a grimness in his expression. “Stop it, both of you.” He looks up. The tarp covering the hole in the roof is leaking. “I leave the room for two minutes, and this.” He sees the new damage we’ve caused and the brick in my hand. “What have you done, Darcy?”
“He knows everything. That we’re together. You’re mine, one hundred percent.”
Tom just walks to me and takes the next brick from my hand. And he doesn’t say anything.
“Well?” Jamie snaps. “Well?”
“I can’t do this anymore,” Tom says. He’s cold and furious. Something inside me begins to slide.
“Just tell him that you love me, and we’re together, and we’ll go up and fix the tarp and stack the bricks. Tom, tell him.”
“I asked you for one thing. Don’t tell Jamie until the house is sold. Three months of waiting for me. But that was too much to ask.”
“I’ve waited my whole life for you.” I bite my lip. I put my hand out for him but he steps out of reach. “I’m sorry. You know what I’m like, I just—”
Tom glances at his watch. “Yeah, I know what you’re like. I asked for three months. You lasted thirty minutes.” He refuses to tell my brother that he loves me.
“Hello, I’m right here,” Jamie says sarcastically. “You wanted to lie to me?”
There’s more to this. “Shut up, Jamie. What was that phone call? What’s happened?” I step into him again.
Tom exhales and closes his eyes. “My mom is being evicted as we speak. Just . . . furniture and cats and she’s hysterical.”
I hate how my hands are not registering on him. “This early on a Sunday?”
“Her landlord is a jerk. I need to get there.” The anger is dulling away into a frightening flatness.
“Look,” Jamie says, flicking his eyes to mine with alarm. “We got out of hand, like we do, but we’ll fix this—”
“We’ll go now,” I interrupt Jamie urgently. “We’ll all go and—”
“Aldo was right.” Tom is looking up at the hole in the ceiling. “I’m not cut out for this. I’m not the boss. I’m the muscle.”
“You’re doing great,” Jamie and I say, practically in unison.
“I wouldn’t have even made it this far without Darcy. I can’t manage the phone and the site. That much is obvious. How unprofessional, right? Enlisting the client? I never saw Aldo do that.”
“Aldo had you to delegate to. You can’t delegate to yourself,” Jamie argues.
Tom is unswayed. “So don’t you think that’s going to be a problem when I move to the next site, and when life gets hard again for you and you leave?” He looks at me.
“You’ve got everything wrong. I’m not going anywhere.” I look at my brother and widen my eyes. “Help me.”
“Let’s just relax,” Jamie says, attempting Tom’s special tone and failing miserably.
Tom puts a hand on his hip. “Enough lies. Jamie, I fucked up the budget.”
“Fucked it up, how?” Jamie’s eyes sharpen. Money is his Achilles’ heel, and it’s pinching. “How much?”
“My entire five percent, probably. I used an old spreadsheet for the project. I didn’t update it with the new rate I promised my crew to move over with me. Plus the motel costs for the core three. I just . . . fucked up.” He lifts his arms and drops them. “A completely stupid simple error, and I was too distracted to notice it. So there you go. Some more ammunition for you to bring up over and over, for the rest of your life. Ha ha, remember how Tom couldn’t swim? Remember how Tom screwed up his first solo job ever?”
“I want to see the spreadsheet,” Jamie orders him. “Now. We have a contract—”
“I’m well aware.” Tom turns his eyes to mine, and there’s a starkness in them now. “And I’ve been lying to you about something.”
“I don’t care what it is.” I will not break under this, whatever it is. “I don’t care if she’s still got her ring. If the wedding is back on. If you’re already married. It won’t stop me from loving you.”
He silences me. “I’ve got your passport.”
Everything drains out of me, and my Achilles is lanced clean through. “What?”
“I found it the night I arrived. It was on top of the fridge. Out of your eye line.” The faintest tinge of a smile is on his face. “I put it in my pocket, and I kept it. I had a million little moments I could put it somewhere you could find it, but I didn’t want to. I wanted to keep you here. So yeah,” he says as he walks toward the back door with Patty at his heels. “I’m not the perfect person you both require me to be.”
The screen door slaps. I go to chase him, but Jamie stops me.
“Let him cool down. Look what you’ve done.” He passes a hand over his face, rattled. “What the hell?” He looks at the back door.
“I’ve never seen him look like that,” I go again for the door but Jamie hooks his arm around my waist.
“Let me go.”
“No, I won’t.” Jamie’s holding me so hard it hurts. “If I let you walk out, that’s it. It’s going to be you and him, versus me. You’re both going to completely forget about me.”
I would reply with sarcasm but I hear the fear in his voice. “You’re not going to be cut out. Nothing changes, except for me and Tom.”
“If I find out that he’s just been hanging around me all this time to get to you, I don’t know if I can handle that. That guy is my only real friend.” Jamie’s body is defensive—arms crossed, looming over me, but his eyes are like he’s a scared kid.
“Of course that’s not true.” I put a hand on Jamie’s elbow. “Let’s all just talk about it. You stay here and manage the site. I’ll go with Tom and get his mom.”
“Okay. Take her to Mom and Dad’s.” He thinks of something. “I’m settling soon on my investment property. I’ll rent it to Tom’s mom.” Jamie notices something out the front window. “The foundation guy is here. With doughnuts.” He opens the door for him. “Yeah, come in. Hi. We’re just in the middle of a crisis, but . . .”
Jamie and I spend a minute or two trying to fake it that we’ve got it together. Chris marvels at the hole in the ceiling, and we pretend that it’s no big deal. We don’t have a gaping, terrible hole in the center of our universe, leaking rain like tears.
“I’ll go get Tom,” I tell them both. I walk down to my bedroom, but he’s not there. I walk up the side of the house. I am stepping alongside the prints left by my heels this morning. How fucking typical. I keep walking the same impulsive, selfish path.
Tom’s truck has reversed almost out of the drive. I’m running, but I’m not fast enough. I try. I’ve chased him as far as the corner of Simons Street when I lose all power, and in his rearview mirror if he looked he’d see me doubled over, cursing my heart, cursing myself.
But I feel like this time he doesn’t look back for me.
* * *
AFTER TWO DAYS without Tom, I am a stone-cold wreck.
“He’ll be back tomorrow,” Jamie tells me, but his usual confident tone is slipping. He hands me a mug of tea. “Drink this.”
“I can’t.” I twist around on the front steps and put it down with a slosh. “I can’t.” The sunset is soaking everything in obnoxiously pretty colors.
“You’re gonna have to eat or drink something. And sleep at some point. Your hair’s gonna go gray at this rate.” Jamie slaps my medication bottle in my hand. “Take them.” He sits next to me with a groan. He’s tired after living two days of Tom’s life. “I can’t believe how much shit he deals with.”
Jamie went into recovery mode after he scooped me off the pavement and my heart regained the ability to pump. He half carried me inside, sat me on the closed toilet lid, and commandeered Colin the moment he walked in.
“I’ll double your daily rate to be site manager. Tom’s got an emergency.”
“Done,” Colin said. There’s no I told you so glint in his eyes, only concern. “Okay, boys, set up, and I’ll task Chris. Power’s off from nine sharp.” With Colin’s experience, Jamie’s bulldozer will, and my phone-answering skills, the renovation has continued to tick along.
“We need him back,” I groan desperately, mashing my palms against my closed eyes. “We broke him.” I hear a car engine. I sit up. It drives past, and I exhale and put my head in my hands. “Did you call Mom and Dad?”
Jamie has his arm around my shoulders now.
“Tom was there yesterday. He dropped off his mom around dinnertime. She’s in their spare room, the nice one that opens to the ocean. She’s okay. There are identical cats everywhere.” Jamie takes out his phone and shows a picture that Mom sent. There are black and white cats on the bench. The couches. The windowsills and on top of the fridge. “Mom’s kind of loving it. She calls them all Mr. Tuxedo.”
There’s another shot of Tom’s mom, Fiona, waving at the camera. The smile doesn’t reach her eyes. It reminds me of when we gave her our welcome basket, all those years ago.
“I don’t care about cats. Where did he go?”
“Mom doesn’t know. She said he barely said anything while he was there, and said he had to get going. He didn’t stay the night. She tried to make him stay, but he was just back in his truck. He apologized, but she didn’t know what for.” Jamie hesitates on something.
“Tell me.”
“He left Patty with them.” He wraps his arm tighter until we’re hip to hip. Together, we shiver through all the scenarios.
“I don’t care what he did.” I found my passport on my pillow. I would put that thing in the toaster to get Tom back. “He really thinks we’ll never forgive him. Over money and a passport!”
“It’s not a hard leap to make,” Jamie admits. “We’re both psychopaths about—”
“Money and freedom. I know. I know. I hate us.” I hang my head between my knees. “I can’t bear this. He’s just dropped completely off the grid.”
“It sucks, doesn’t it,” Jamie says without any accusation in his tone. He’s gentle. “This is why we get hurt when you do it.”
“I won’t anymore.” I swallow a big lump in my throat. “If you can deal with me . . .”
“Yeah. You’re staying.” Jamie pats my hand and then takes Tom’s phone from me. “You know we have to try Megan.” He says this with an apology in his voice that I’ve never heard before. “We gotta, Darce. I’m right here.” He keeps his arm around me as he dials.
“Darcy?” Megan says when she answers.
“Darcy and Jamie,” Jamie says when I have no voice. “Is Tom there?”
“Okay, so he told me what to say when you called. First thing: Don’t panic. No, wait, that was advice for me. Second thing: Tell Darcy that we’re not back together.” Megan exhales nervously. “Hear that, Darcy? We’re not.”
“I heard it.” My voice is croaky. “Is he okay?”
“He is. He said he needs time to think. He said he made two big mistakes, and he’s made you both angry.”
“He hasn’t,” Jamie and I answer in twin unison.
“That’s what I told him,” Megan responds. “Everyone knows how much you two love him. You know what he’s like. So hard on himself if he isn’t . . .”
“Perfect.” The horrible word sounds like a curse out of my mouth. “Yeah, we know it.”
“He’s been under a lot of pressure and it’s just gotten to be too much.”
“Can I . . . Can I talk to him?” I am suddenly sick with nerves.
“He’s not staying with me. He only came by to . . .” She pauses.
“Pick up the ring,” Jamie supplies with no tact.
“Yeah,” she replies, soft and sad. “He said he needed it for something important.”
“Megan, I’m sorry I stared at you at Christmas.” I blurt it out. “I’m sorry. I never wanted you guys to break up, and I think your skin is phenomenal.”
She laughs. I hear the sounds of children in the background. Like she’s outside. “You did stare at me, so much.” She’s not resentful. “But I stared at you, too.”
It’s laughable. She’s a ten. I’m a solid six in the right light. “Me? Why would you?”
Megan covers the phone receiver. Says something like, In a minute, sweetie. Then she says, “Because I always knew how much he loves you.”
“We grew up together,” I say awkwardly. I look sideways at Jamie, but he’s neutral as he listens. “Of course he loves me. We’re like family. I’m like his sister.”
“He came alive at Christmas,” she tells me. “It took me years to admit it to myself, but if you were there, he was lit up. And if you were traveling, he was flat. It’s okay,” she rushes to assure me as I begin to object. “I know that technically, I was second in line to you.”
“I’m sorry,” Jamie interjects desperately. “I just thought if I introduced you guys, you’d help him get out of his depression. When you left he was pretty bad,” Jamie adds apologetically to me. “Megan is technically perfect for him.”
“No, I’m not,” Megan says, and the happy squeal of a kid nearly deafens us. “I’m really not. But Darcy is. I’m sorry, guys, but I’ve got to go.”
“How’d you get a kid so fast?” I’m glad she just laughs in response.
“I’m dating a guy who has a three-year-old. I’m just at the park watching them play around. It’s been quite unexpected. Like falling in love, doubled.” Megan pauses. “Can you guys let me know when he gets back? Please go easy on him.”
“I realized something. Tom has never asked us for anything. Did you know that?” Jamie says, and looks to me. I rack my brains. It’s true. “Nothing. Not a glass of water if it’s hot. Not money, not help, nothing. He just doesn’t know how to ask.”
“That was something I had an issue with, too,” Megan says.
“It’s easy,” I correct them both. “You just force it on him, and he sighs and says okay.”
“I think that only works if you’re you,” Jamie points out. “And yes, Megan, we’ll go easy on him. There’s nothing he can do that will make us . . .” Jamie can’t finish. His voice has choked up.
“Stop loving him,” I supply, strong and steady. “He’s made a few fuckups but they’re no big deal. We love him. We just want him back. We’ll make sure we earn him this time.”
We hang up and stare at the street together. When the next car approaches, Jamie and I sit up straight together. Slump together. For the first time since we were kids, we lean together.
“You’re right, Darce,” Jamie says after an endless stretch of time has passed and we have goose bumps and mosquito bites. “The twins need to work out how we can possibly deserve someone like Tom Valeska. When he comes back, we have to be able to prove it.”
I link my arm into my brother’s. “How can we possibly do that? He’s so . . .” The word perfect isn’t allowed anymore. I look up at the sky, and a shooting star streaks overhead, trailing down.
Loretta’s here. I feel her. I let the tears run down. “I miss him. I miss her.”
Jamie knows exactly who I mean. “We haven’t lost either of them, not really. They’re both just . . . taking a holiday. It’s okay. We’ll make it right.”
“But he left Patty.” I have to marvel at how my heart can keep beating this slow and steady, even as I put my face into Jamie’s shoulder and cry.
* * *
“I EMAILED HIM the appointment details,” Jamie says to me as we take a seat in my cardiologist’s waiting room. “I sent it to his old email address. I bet he still checks it. He’s going to make it. I know it. Today is the day.” Stronger, he assures me, “He promised you.”
I don’t respond. I’m not using my voice a lot lately. I’m just a faded half person, kept alive by Truly hand-feeding me candy and Jamie pouring water down my throat. It’s bizarre seeing them in the same room. They bustle around together, arguing and pushing and cajoling. Jamie’s right. She thinks he’s a nightmare. A really handsome nightmare.
Luckily he hasn’t noticed it yet.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Truly had burst out with the moment she walked in to sit on the side of my bed, but I just shook my head wearily. Who cares. I know what my brother is like. Who could resist replying to one of his cheeky, funny emails? No one. Not a single person on earth who had met him could ignore him. I shouldn’t keep holding my friends to a standard they can’t achieve.
She hugged me until the sky went black, and Jamie ordered a pizza. If I wasn’t so heartbroken, I’d dig around in their relationship a little, but I can’t do anything except hold Tom’s phone, and correct myself every time I falter.
He’s going to come back to you. He will.
I watch as Jamie selects a magazine for me. “Golf Digest,” he says, trying to make me laugh, and unfolds it on my thighs to an article. “Come on, Darce. Gotta work on your backswing.”
“Fine. But you need to improve yourself as well.” I choose a magazine for him. “Learn how to bake a glazed ham.” These days, we’re all about self-improvement. We’re determined to make ourselves better versions. We both focus on our assigned reading until Tom’s phone buzzes. Like always, we jump and scrabble for it.
“It’s a message from the real estate agent. Margie’s coming at three. Will we be back in time?”
“Yes, and if not, Colin can take her through.” It’s been two months. It’s hard to believe that we have a fairly well-formed house to show an agent. She wants to prepare a game plan. The demand for properties in our area has gone red-hot.
“Two months,” I say to Jamie, and he knows what I mean.
We sit and stare blankly at the receptionist’s desk for a while. I turn my head with effort to look at my brother. My mirror. He looks as bad as I do.
“Yeah, we look shitty,” he says as he rolls his face to mine. We’re just two blond cadavers. “It’s fucking ridiculous, isn’t it?”
“What?”
“How we can’t live without him.”
“Yeah. That’s what I’m worried they’re going to tell me in this appointment. I’m a goner, Jamie.” I groan tiredly and slip into a half snooze.
As the minutes tick along, I have to accept it. He’s gone. He’s not coming back for me and my stupid heart. I check the phone in my hand again. I want to squeeze a message out of it. Just one word that he’s okay, and I can get myself hooked up and they’ll find a heartbeat.
The name is called that turns both our heads. “Barrett?”
“We just need to wait a minute longer,” Jamie argues politely with the cardiologist’s assistant. “We’re waiting for our friend to come to the appointment, too.”
“I’ll bring them in when they get here,” the receptionist tells us. “We need to keep to the schedule.” Defeated, the Barrett twins skulk down the long white hallway. I’m scared. My heart is a dead apricot kernel. They’ll have to sew me to Jamie to borrow his, and we’ll have to live as Siamese twins.
Jamie’s hand closes on mine, and I’ve never been this scared for myself. “What am I going to do?” I whisper to him as we are seated. “What?”
“I don’t know,” he replies to me, hushed. “But you’ll be okay. I’m here.”
“Darcy Barrett,” Dr. Galdon says to me with a flourish. He’s known me for years. “I have not seen your face in a long, long time.” His smile fades off when the witty rejoinder he’s expecting doesn’t happen. From either twin. “What’s happening?”
“Just a little brokenhearted,” I say listlessly. “It’s not feeling good in there.” I point at my chest.
“Hmm,” Dr. Galdon says, and I try to not read too much into his expression as he checks my blood pressure. I know I look absolutely terrible. I’ve got blade cheekbones and my eyeballs are permanently pink. Tom thought my clothes were falling off before? I look like a mop slid into black fabric.
“Let’s get you hooked up.” I change into a gown behind a screen at the end of the room. Dr. Galdon helps me sit up onto the edge of the examination bench and wheels over the heart monitor. He sticks little pads all over me, connecting the wires to his machines. This used to scare me so much as a kid. I thought I was going to be shocked to life. Maybe that would be a good move for me now.
“She eats nothing, forgets her medication, it’s expired,” Jamie snitches on me in a dull automatic way. “Drinks too much. No exercise whatsoever. Cries all day. Sugar, good Lord, the sugar.”
“Okay, okay,” Dr. Galdon says, sticking the last of the pads to my chest. I swivel and lie down. “Don’t get her all riled up.” He’s been in the vicinity of one of our snippy little jousts plenty of times. Again, he falls silent when I don’t reply.
Little does he know, the Barrett twins have stopped fighting.
It takes too much effort, and besides, we need to cling to each other to stay afloat. Without our perfect-for-us buffer to level us out. I hear the upward inflection of a beep and we all watch as my heart begins to squiggle and bump along on the screen with all the energy of a dying tadpole. I hear a buzzing and for a split second I think it’s the sound of me flatlining.
“Let me just get this,” Dr. Galdon says. “I’ve got an emergency call. Just sit tight.” He leaves the room, and I remain lying down, looking at the lines on the screen.
Bleep-bloop. Bleep-bloop.
“The solicitor sent the paperwork through,” Jamie says to break the silence. “It came by courier. He’s gonna kill us.” He adds that last part on cheerfully, like he can’t wait for the moment that Tom shakes his head at what we’ve done.
“Yeah.” I sigh heavily. “I can hear him now. I don’t need your help—”
Jamie cuts in, mimicking Tom. “I don’t need a third of the sale price.”
“I don’t deserve it,” I continue in Tom’s tone. “I’m not a Barrett. It’s your inheritance, not mine.” I rub my arms and try to not watch the monitor. “But he does. And he’s getting it. Thank you, Jamie. It’s the perfect way to show him that he’s important, and equal, and that we love him forever.”
“He didn’t inherit a thing, and I didn’t think twice about it.” Jamie has been beating himself up over this. “All I thought about was my money. Not him. He was practically her third grandchild and he got nothing. This is just making things right.”
“Can you get him to sign, though? He’s so proud.”
“When I find him,” Jamie says with complete confidence, “I can get him to do anything. Even sign that document.”
“When you find him.” I exhale, Jamie exhales, and the room falls silent. It’s impossible to find someone who’s hurt and hiding. I should know. I’ve been doing it for years. Who knows where on earth Tom could be.
“Once I get the all-clear to travel, I’m going to go looking for him.”
Jamie doesn’t forbid it or say it’s a stupid idea. All he says is, “Where will you look first?”
“Not sure. I’ll take the Northern Hemisphere—”
“And I’ll do the Southern Hemisphere.” Jamie smiles at me. “We’ll find him. We’re very determined individuals. Two blond artillery tanks, rolling out. Covering every square inch.” He’s trying to make me smile, but I’m distracted by a feeling.
I’ve got a vibration in my bones. I’ve got a shiver on the soles of my feet and an upward trickle in my veins. On the screen, my heart rate is pipping upward. I’m starting to get warm.
“God, are you about to blow up?” Jamie stands and looks at the screen, making a face. “What the fuck is happening? I’ll go get Dr.—”
The door opens.
“In here,” the receptionist says, and Darcy and Jamie Barrett have twin heart attacks.
Tom Valeska always arrives, exactly when we need him most.
He’s standing in the doorway, his brow creased and his T-shirt too loose on his body. One foot is slid back, like he’s ready to make his escape. “Thank you,” he says with his automatic politeness to the receptionist. His eyes dart between me and Jamie, fast and desperate. He’s flushed and sweating. He’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.
“Hi,” I say, tethered in place by my heart. “You came.”
Jamie jolts out of his surprise and does what I can’t. He walks to Tom and puts his arms around him and squeezes. “You came,” Jamie echoes, and won’t let the hug end. “You’re here. You’re okay.”
“Of course I’m okay. Are you okay, Darce?” Tom’s eyes are on the machine beside me and the wires feeding out of my chest. He’s never seen this before, me lying here in a gown, hooked up to a machine. It’s confronting. I try to pull them off, but they’re stuck too well.
“I’m okay,” I say with the last puff of air I have. I pull myself up to sit on the edge of the bench. The air is filled with beeping. “Come here. Please come here.” My eyes are full of tears.
Jamie releases him and Tom steps between my knees. The entire world falls away. He puts his fingertips into my shaggy hair and tips my face up.
“What’s happened here?” he says in a sympathetic husky voice. “You look terrible, beautiful Darcy Barrett.”
I press my face into his solar plexus and I feel his warm hands on my nape. He threads his free arm through the wires and cups my back. I’m carrying the sensation of this squeeze around for the rest of my life.
“Tom, are you okay?”
“I’m okay,” Tom says. “I’m sorry, guys,” he tries, but we both shush him desperately. Jamie is feeling left out and squeezes onto the examination table beside me. We’re just two little blond birds, looking up at Tom like we need him to survive. Oh wait. We do.
“But I completely—” he tries again, and we shake our heads. “I just totally—”
“We don’t care,” Jamie says, silencing him. “We don’t care. You’re back. That’s everything. Please make my sister stay alive. By any means necessary.”
“What does she need to stay alive?”
“You,” Jamie says simply. It’s one word, but it’s a powerful one; Tom looks at him sharply, like he can’t believe what he’s heard.
“You,” I echo. “Where the hell have you been?”
“I thought I’d fucked up beyond forgiveness. So I just drove. I guess I just left town. Maybe I am like my father.” Tom sighs and rubs his face. “Maybe that’s what I’ve been scared of my entire life. That I’m like him.”
“You’re not,” I counter. I rub his forearm. “Is that why you’ve been trying harder than any living human being, your entire life?” He shrugs and I know I’m right.
“You left Patty,” Jamie says with a little accusation. “We thought you’d gone and driven your gorgeous ass into a canyon.”
Tom laughs, even as his hands smooth over me, calming the terror that has the heart monitor squeaking. “Patty needed a beach vacation. Old girl looked all worn out.”
“Ditto,” I groan as his nails scratch in gentle circles on the side of my neck. “Tom, I nearly died without you. Dr. Galdon is about to confirm it.”
“Yeah, where is he? I’ll go get him.” Jamie walks out with a frown on his brow, closing the door behind him. Holy crap. He just left a room so we could be alone. My heart is pipping so much that Tom looks sideways with concern.
“Settle down.” His warm palms are on my jaw, and he’s drinking in my face. A perfect kiss is pressed onto my mouth. It’s soft and kind, like a friend. “I died without you, too.”
“We’ve done so much work,” I say, trying to bring him back again for a longer kiss. “Wait till you see.” He evades my lips.
“I cannot tell you how sorry I am,” he says with a wince. “I’ll fix everything. I won’t sleep until it’s perfect.”
“I don’t mean the house. It’s fine. Colin’s been the site manager, and I’ve been his deputy. Jamie cut a bunch of costs and the budget is on track. Silly,” I admonish him gently, rubbing him on the arm. “We can fix everything for you.”
“That’s all you guys ever try to do,” he groans guiltily.
“What I meant was that Jamie and I have been working on ourselves. We’ve been renovating in here.” I pick up his palm and press it against my heart, over the monitor pads. “We are going to be working on ourselves for a long time. To make sure we never make you run away again. Where did you go?”
“I think I pretended you were sitting in the passenger seat beside me, and I just . . . drove. We’ve been a lot of places. We took the backroads, stayed in cheap motels, and one really expensive one. The beach. A really great diner that I’m taking you to for real—” His glow fades out, like he’s remembering it’s impossible.
“Take me there.”
“But about your passport—”
“Don’t care.” I manage to get a hand behind his neck and pull him down. My heart is about to turn inside out when we kiss, our mouths open, and we taste each other again. He’s sweeter than sugar, more delicious than anything I’ve ever experienced. My every birthday-candle wish.
“But it’s unforgivable,” he argues back as he lifts his mouth, and ends on a succulent bite of my lower lip. “It was the worst lie I’ve ever told you—”
“When you said you couldn’t do this anymore? That was the worst lie. It was a lie, right?” I gasp when his hands cup my throat, warmer, tighter, and the next kiss is electric. I’m surprised I don’t blow up the heart monitor. It’s tongue and biting and exhaling and wanting. So much wanting.
“You still want me? Even though I’m a screwup?” he asks as he lifts his head, and there’s that dark, dangerous glint that only I can recognize. Everyone else sees a mild-mannered sweetheart. But right here, in these moments between us, he’s my Valeska. The one I’ve always needed beside me, every step that I take.
“One hundred percent mine.”
He considers that, then maybe he remembers the desperate hug that my brother gave me. He tips his head toward the door. “Better let him have one percent of me.” He smiles, and I laugh.
“Okay. Ninety-nine percent mine. That’s got a nice ring to it. Never say that I’m not open to negotiation. Now. I’m going to tell you exactly how much I love you.”
“I already know how much.”
I shake my head. “You can’t know. I haven’t told you.”
“You have always made me feel it. Always.” His eyes burn with intensity. “It’s how I can watch you smile at good-looking delivery drivers. No stranger is going to talk to you for two minutes and take you away from me. You wouldn’t allow it.”
He’s not indulging himself in male arrogant bullshit. He’s doing what he does best: He’s telling the truth.
He keeps going. “It’s why you’ve treated me all these years like protecting me is your job. And no one else has ever tried, by the way. Everyone else thinks I’m completely fine, but you’ve always known that I need you, in every way. You’ve felt it.”
I nod, my breath stuck in my throat.
“You’ve never dated anyone you could love, because you didn’t want anything to threaten how you feel for me. You were always alone at the Christmas table, looking at me and Megan, with eyes like you were waiting for me to get it together and realize. Sitting outside alone on the back stairs, looking up at the stars, waiting on me.”
He’s touching me now, slow and easy, like I’m an animal he could startle. “You’ve avoided me for years and traveled, because it was too much for you. You’re scared to death because a person like you only loves once. And it’s me.”
His words shock through me. His hands are on my waist and he squeezes to prompt an answer. “Am I right?”
“Of course you are. Now kiss me.” This one is a sweet, gentle thing, until I ruin it with the slide of my tongue. He grumbles a warning in the back of his throat. Mmm, I missed that alpha bass.
He breaks us apart. “I never told you how much I love you. How do you think I feel? Tell me.”
I have no experience with articulating feelings, let alone anything this alive and primal, but I have to try. This must be how Loretta felt when she turned over the first tarot card. Use your intuition, she’d instruct. Feel the truth. I press my palm against his heart and his fingers slide into my hair.
“You slept in a bunk bed in Jamie’s room. That’s one of the ways you’ve had to work hard for me. Putting up with my brother, just to sleep a wall away from me and put your toothbrush next to mine.”
He nods with a smile and a memory in his eyes.
“You sleep on the grass outside my window just to be close to me.”
“More.”
“When we hug at Christmastime you breathe me in, and you hold it in. Whatever it is you like on my skin, it’s deep in the caveman bit of your brain.”
I have no idea where this weird truth is coming from, but I’m right. He drops his head down and on my shoulder I feel the pull of air into his nostrils.
“Even more.” He says it as he exhales. Both of us are getting overheated. I don’t even have to search myself to know what to say. These words have been on the tip of my tongue for a lifetime.
“Another man’s diamond on my hand is your worst nightmare, and for years you’ve been jolting awake over it.” I feel a tremor run through his body. Now I have to say the really hard thing.
“Putting a diamond on another woman made you sick to your stomach. But like a nice guy you couldn’t admit it to yourself, let alone her, until the white lace started creeping in at the edges and you saw my insanely-in-love parents together.”
“Even more than that.”
“You’d kill for me. You’d dig a grave for me.”
He laughs. “Yeah. Now you’re getting close.” We are kissing when the door opens again.
“Alrighty,” Dr. Galdon says as he walks in, and then coughs when we break apart. “Let’s take a look at you, Miss Barrett.” He shakes hands with Tom and introduces himself. Tom takes a seat next to Jamie. I’ve never seen anything more lovely; my two favorite human beings side by side, and they love me.
“Look at her,” Jamie remarks, jabbing an elbow at Tom. “Got your color back already, Darce.”
“I was just about to remark on that,” Dr. Galdon says with a laugh. He consults the monitor. “That’s the fastest-healing broken heart I’ve ever seen. One hundred percent improvement on how it was five minutes ago.” His smile fades as he writes something down on my chart. “But we do need to talk about your medication, and we need to do an ECG. There are irregularities here that I haven’t seen before.”
“It’s okay, just relax,” Tom tells me and Jamie when we both tighten up. It’s in that tone we can never resist. “We’ll get you fixed up, Darce. Good as new. We’ve got a cruise to go on when we’re eighty,” he explains to the doctor. “We need her there for it.”
“I think that can be arranged,” Dr. Galdon says with a laugh. “As long as she’s got someone looking after her until then.”
“She will,” Jamie and Tom say in unison. Just like twins.
I’m so lucky that the room fills with it. Pip-pip-pip, my heart beats like I’m going to live forever. I need it to.
