Three Brothers

by Nicole Williams

  I scrambled to where his hat was hanging from the back of a chair. “Nice try. We’re going.”

  “Why? I’m the one who’s always there, no matter where there is. If anyone has a pass to skip out on this morning, it’s me.”

  I lowered the hat onto his head, feeling like it was a shame to hide all of that nice hair. “That’s true. You’re the reliable, dependable one, and I’m not going to be responsible for those admirable qualities taking a hiatus. I’m going to get enough criticism for not being good enough for you—I sure don’t want to prove everyone right from day one.”

  He went back to tucking in his shirt. “Okay, crazy talker, we’ll go. But only because I don’t want to keep arguing, not because I wouldn’t rather be having breakfast with you or because I actually believe one iota of that crap about people thinking you’re not good enough for me—”

  “People including me who don’t think I’m good enough for you.” I reached for his hand. I might not have been good enough for him or deserving of him, but I’d spend whatever was left of my life making up for that.

  Chance tugged me close and formed his hand around my cheek. “I know it’s hard, but please stop talking crazy. Please. For me.” His head angled, his eyes dropping to my lips. “Because you might be under one assumption, but let me assure you that I’m under the opposite. I know—I’m unequivocally confident—that you are what isn’t only good for me but the absolute best for me.” His nose touched mine. “There is no one better for me than you. There never has been, and there never will be.”

  Our lips were almost connected when Chance’s phone went off again. We both groaned, but I snuck in a quick kiss before tugging him toward the stairs.

  “You’re so damn romantic, it’s not even funny,” I said, slowing at the stairs to give him time to negotiate them. “And to think this whole time, you were holding out on me.”

  He chuckled as he followed me down the stairs, his steps uneven as he favored his bruised leg. “Well, you were kind of preoccupied with swooning over my brother. I figured it was best to keep my swooning to myself.”

  When I reached the first floor, I stopped and lifted a couple of fingers at him. “Two things: One, please stop reminding me of Conn and my totally misguided, forever shameful obsession with him. I’m trying to forget about that whole part of my life, but it’s hard to do when someone keeps bringing it up.” I looked at him as he continued down the last few steps. “And two”—my stern face melted into a smile—“feel free to swoon away now.”

  “Oh, I’m swooning,” Chance said, looking at me in my rumpled clothes with bedhead and a puffy, makeup-less face as if I were the very origin of beauty.

  To go from feeling merely endured by one brother to being adored by the other made me wonder again how I’d gotten so confused that I couldn’t tell love from loathing. Was it my mom’s suicide? Being shipped to an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people? Was it a combination of the two? Or was it an attempt to protect myself from ever again loving someone as much I had my mother? In the back of my mind, did I know that Conn could never love me and that inability would keep me safe from losing love so suddenly and without expectation? Had I kept love away because I’d been scared? I knew that was the reason Chance had kept it at bay. Our fears might have been different, but they stemmed from the same thing—fear of losing the person we loved.

  But as he took my hand and led me through his house, I realized that we weren’t scared anymore. At least not enough to let that fear control our happiness. I’d sacrificed enough at Fear’s hand. I wouldn’t lay Chance down on the same altar. Walking through his home, holding his hand and realizing all of this, was one of the happiest moments of my life. It felt like the start of a new life.

  “I think you’re being summoned too now,” he said, lifting his chin at my purse on his hall table.

  I’d forgotten all about it, and the phone inside it, last night, but that phone was buzzing now. “Great.” I rummaged for my phone as I grabbed the purse from the table. “It’s Chase.” I showed it to Chance as he opened the front door. “It’s Chase now and . . . Chase the last five missed calls too. This must be important, or they wouldn’t be blowing up both of our phones.”

  Chance closed the door behind us, didn’t lock it—as figured—and led me down the porch steps. “So are we taking the truck or the horse?”

  I stared pointedly at his arm in his sling. “I think the horse has done enough damage for one twenty-four-hour period. Why don’t you wait a day or two for round two? At least until less than half of your body is purple.”

  “So you’re saying the truck?” he said, already moving toward it.

  I pulled the keys from my purse and dangled them. “I’m driving.”

  “Then it’s a toss-up between the horse and the truck.” He gently nudged me with his injured arm.

  Normally I would have nudged him right back, but I didn’t want to hurt it. At least, not any more than it already was. “What do you mean? I’m a great driver.” I feigned outrage as he pulled open the driver’s side door for me, waited for me to jump in, and closed it. When he slid into the passenger seat, I added, “You were the one who taught me, remember?”

  Chance reached for his seat belt and fastened it securely. “Yeah, I remember. There’s a reason I ride a horse more often than I drive a truck, you know.”

  I hit the gas. “You’re a cowboy?”

  “Well, that, and I’m a bad driver.” He gripped the dash with his good hand as I barreled down the road.

  “I wasn’t aware that bad drivers paused at every intersection and could take the gold medal in defensive driving.” I glanced at him when we came to a fork in the road. Last night it had been dark and I’d been following a monotone voice. Now that I’d found Chance’s, I couldn’t remember the way back to Red Mountain.

  Chance pointed at the road on the right. “Okay, I take it back. I’m an okay driver, but you are a terrible driver.”

  When I hit a pothole, the truck bounced so hard our heads hit the roof, confirming his bad driver claims. “Sorry!” I hadn’t even seen that pothole. If I had, I would have avoided it because I was trying to heal Chance, not hurt him more.

  “Okay, if I don’t remember later because I suffer a brain injury, remind me to enroll you in some safe driver courses and research the safest, most reliable cars on the market.” He rubbed at the top of his hat, but he was smiling.

  Those dirt roads were riddled with more potholes than dirt, so I eased back on the speed and kept my eyes on the road. I was already on the way to that whole safe driving state of mind. “How long will it take us to get there?”

  “With the way you drive? Twelve seconds.”

  “Okay, comedian, what do we have really?” I asked.

  “Ten minutes”—Chance checked the speedometer—“give or take a few.”

  I nodded, clutching the steering wheel. “Okay, so that doesn’t give us long.”

  “Give us long for what?” Chance winced preemptively at a pothole the size of Delaware right in front of us.

  That one, however, I saw. Steering around it, I glanced at him for a moment. “Give us long to decide what we’re going to tell your family. They’re going to know something’s going on between us when we pull up together, late . . .” On my second sideways glance, I noticed what I hadn’t back in his bedroom. “With you sporting a T-shirt on backward. And inside out.”

  Chance looked down and a loud exhale followed. “What do you want to tell them?” He threw off his hat and sling in the same motion before pulling his shirt free of his jeans.

  “What do you want to tell them? They’re your family.”

  When he tugged his shirt over his head, the road became a little bit more challenging to focus on. “I want to tell them whatever you want to share. I’m just as fine telling them everything as I am nothing. I don’t need their blessing or to know what they think about us being together. I mean, I’d like them to be supportive, but I don’t need them t
o be. All I need is this.” He stopped wrestling with his shirt long enough to drop his hand on my leg, just above my knee.

  Having his hand on me while he sat a couple feet away, naked from the waist up, made it virtually impossible for me to pay any attention to the road. I didn’t see the not-so-small boulder resting on the edge of the gravel road.

  “Scout!” Chance shouted, his hand moving from my leg to the steering wheel and giving it a hard pull to the right.

  I eased off the gas, but I didn’t hit the brakes after we narrowly swerved around the cow-sized boulder. That rock would have done some damage to the truck. And maybe the people inside. After a few seconds, when the adrenaline was draining and the close encounter had passed, I looked at a silent Chance. From the look on his face, we were still an instant from plowing into that rock. His eyes were wide, his body tense, and his brow drawn together in a tight line.

  “Hey,” I said softly, “you okay over there?” My words didn’t rouse him from wherever he was, so I lowered my hand to his and wove my fingers through his.

  That seemed to snap him back to the present. “For the love of God, Scout”—he sounded out of breath—“did you hear anything when I told you how concerned and downright terrified I am about preserving your life? Do you remember what we’re facing being together—not just what you want to remember, but what we’ll actually be faced with?” Chance thrust his hand at the road. “Because I can’t do that anymore. You can’t do that to me anymore. You can’t be careless and take chances with your life. There’s already too large of a target on your back. Don’t make it any bigger. Please.”

  Instantly, I understood what he meant—what he’d felt when I was carelessly barreling down the road as if I were invincible. I didn’t need to buy into the curse to respect that Chance did, and that was enough to make me ease off the gas some more, plant my hands on the steering wheel, and vow to keep my eyes on the road the rest of the way. I’d known that being with Chance would change my life in so many ways, but I hadn’t yet considered this way. I’d have to live life a bit more carefully and not take so many risks. It was a small sacrifice in order to be with him, and one I was happy to make.

  “I didn’t think. I’m sorry.” I sighed, wishing I could be more sensitive so I wouldn’t have to apologize over and over. “You have my word: no more crazy driving. Ten and two from here on out.” I tightened my grip on the steering wheel and continued at an unhurried pace.

  A minute passed before I detected any motion from him. His arm moved back from my torso, where it had been braced in front of me after he’d steered the truck out of harm’s way. He’d left his arm there like he was worried that even though we’d made it past that danger, another one was right in front of us.

  “No, I’m sorry,” he said, his voice almost shaking. “I just . . . I knew this would be hard, letting you in. I knew I’d be fighting every instinct to not seal you away in some padded room to keep you safe from the world.” He took a deep breath. “But knowing something and living it are two different things. I’ll try not to act like a lunatic when it comes to keeping you . . . safe, but I’ll have plenty of trips and falls along the way.” He shrugged back into his shirt then his sling. “Can you be patient with me on this? I’ll try, I swear to God, I’ll be trying every day, but I think, at least at the beginning, I’ll fail more often than I’ll succeed.”

  “We’ll probably both fail more often than succeed at first, but I’ll be patient with you. You’ve already got a proven track record of being patient with me, so we’ll be okay. We’ll figure this thing out.” In the distance, I could make out the ranch. It seemed to have sprung up out of nowhere. “Some couples have to deal with infidelity—we have to deal with a curse. Easy peasy.” A laugh came from Chance, and I felt like I could breathe again. Relationship hurdle number one successfully hurdled—on to number two. “I so hope they’ve got coffee at this meeting. And a tray of Mrs. Baker’s puff pastries. I have a feeling I’m going to need caffeine and copious amounts of butter and sugar to make it through this thing.”

  “Hey, I offered you a way out, but you had to go and get all responsible on us.”

  When we pulled up to the ranch, Chance and I sighed. Him naked beside me in his bed sounded like such a better way to spend a Saturday morning.

  “Let’s get this over with then?” I said as I shut off the engine. Through John’s office window, I saw Chase peering out at us. He didn’t look like he was in a particularly good mood.

  “Together,” Chance said, unbuckling our seat belts before grabbing my hand and pulling me out the passenger door with him.

  We’d barely made it to the stairs before Chase came bursting out the front door, looking like his usual full-throttle self. “Where the hell have you two been? Why the hell haven’t either of you answered your phones?”

  “Good morning to you too, brother. Beautiful morning, isn’t it?” Chance clamped his hand over Chase’s shoulder, his smile only making Chase’s scowl go up a notch.

  “What the hell, Chance? I’m not used to you being the irresponsible rebel. With Conn, I expect this and plan accordingly, but I don’t know what to do when the family attorney shows up and the golden boy isn’t in his seat at the table.” Chase’s face relaxed. “You can’t do that to me all of a sudden. At least give a man a heads up before you force him into the responsible role.”

  Chance held open the front door for me and swatted my backside as I passed. Chase didn’t miss it. His eyes rounded, followed by his cheesy smile, as he waved his finger between the two of us. So I guessed we were telling the family everything . . .

  “Hold up, I’m putting this all together now.” Chase flicked his finger between us a few more times. “You guys did it, didn’t you? You finally fucking did it.”

  “That, Chase, is none of your business,” Chance replied.

  “Before you go and get all X-rated on me, let me clarify.” Chase followed us inside, dropping an arm around both our shoulders. “I don’t mean you guys fucking did it as in you guys fucking fucked.” Chance and I elbowed his stomach at the same time. Didn’t even seem to register before he continued. “What I meant is that you guys finally fucking figured out your shit and are like . . . together now, right? You’re like a thing?”

  Chance and I kept going toward the office. “I don’t know what a ‘thing’ is exactly, but I’m pretty sure it’s not an accurate definition of what Scout and I are.”

  Chase hooted. “So you guys are something. It’s about fucking time.” He gave us a couple of one-armed hugs before letting us go.

  “And you’ve officially reached your morning allowance of four-letter curses,” Chance muttered.

  “Fuckin’-A.” Chase winked at me as he fell in step beside us. He finally noticed Chance’s arm. “What the hell happened to you? Is Scout really that crazy in the sack because day-um . . .”

  I had to bite my cheek to keep from laughing.

  Chance was clearly not amused. “You’ve got three seconds to take that comment back before I kick your ass.”

  Chase leaned into me. “I’d like to see the one-armed gimp try.”

  “Three.” Chance stopped just outside the den and waited. “Two . . .”

  Just when he opened his mouth to say one, Chase raised his hands. “Fine, I take back my comment about Scout being crazy in the sack. I’m sure our Scout here’s a perfect lady in bed, just like she is in all areas of her life.” Chase smiled widely at me.

  “A perfect lady,” I said, right before loosing my fist into his stomach.

  Chance and I stepped inside the office, leaving Chase outside to figure out what had just happened.

  “Nice of you two to grace us with your presences.” Of course Conn greeted us in his usual surly way from where he was sitting at the table, opposite from the lawyer. “It’s not like any of us have more important things to do than sit around some table and wait for the two of you.”

  I’d had the best twenty-four hours of my life, and I was
n’t going to let him ruin it . . . but I wasn’t going to let him run his mouth either. “Sorry. Was there a sale on tequila in town? A two-for-one special on shots?” I crossed my arms and leveled him with a look that said piss me off, I dare you. “Sorry we kept you waiting for twenty minutes. It’s not like any of us have wasted hours upon countless hours waiting for you. Don’t worry, as soon as we’re through, you can get back to drinking your liver into dysfunction.”

  Everyone in the room was watching me, even Chase. He’d just stepped inside, looking a little scared to interrupt me.

  But Conn lifted an unimpressed brow, kicked his feet onto the table, crossed his ankles, and yawned a loud, exaggerated sound that filled the room. “Glad we’ve got that cleared up. So after this fun family meeting, I can get back to my drinking, and you can get back to fucking my brother into next Tuesday.”

  “Conn!” Chance charged toward the table.

  I grabbed his good arm to hold him back, but he just dragged me along with him.

  “What?” Conn replied with another yawn, stretching his arms over his head.

  He was infuriating in every way a person could be. He was cruel for seemingly no other reason than he liked it. When I’d come at him with all cylinders firing, I’d forgotten to do what I’d told myself over and over: ignore him. He thrived on attention, earning it the unhealthy way, and the most effective thing a person could do if they had to be around him and wanted to keep their sanity was ignore him. Entering his game was a mistake because he was too damn good at it and remained undefeated.

  Grabbing Chance’s hand, I steered him around the table to the seats closest to Mr. Harper. “Good morning,” I greeted him. “I’m sorry we’re late, but we can get started now.” The sooner we got this done, the sooner I could get out of being in the same room with Conn.