The Sky of Endless Blue

by Ava Miles

  Chapter 17

  The minute Trevor walked back in, J.T. shoved him in the chest.

  “Do you want to take a swing at me?” he asked.

  His brother pulled on his shirt, like J.T. had left wrinkles. “Honestly, yeah. I’ve had your back through all of this shit, and you didn’t tell me this? Knowing what it could do to you and our family? Our business! How dare you put us in jeopardy over a piece of ass!”

  “That piece of ass was my wife!”

  Trevor waved a hand. “Whatever. I’m calling our lawyers to brief them. Something you should have done a long time ago. Then I’m going to have to call our brothers. Unless you want to pull your head out of your ass for one minute and do it yourself.”

  He held out his chrome phone, and J.T. knocked it out of his hand, needing to hit something. To do something. It flew across the floor. The sound did nothing to satisfy him. It only deepened his shame.

  “Take a swing at me!” he shouted.

  Shaking his head, Trevor walked over and picked up his phone. “You want me to hit you because you want to hit yourself for being so stupid. I’m going to save my knuckles.”

  He stormed over, his throat full of bile. “Hit me!”

  Trevor’s eyes narrowed. “No. That’s too easy. I want you to suffer a little more.”

  J.T. saw red. Suffer? What the hell else had he done for the last three years? He rushed Trevor, his arms wrapping around his brother’s barrel chest. Trevor stopped mid-stride and used his elbows to knock him back.

  “I am so not fighting you! Dammit, don’t you know how hard this is for me?”

  He planted his feet. “What about me? Am I going to pay for one mistake for the rest of my life?”

  “It would seem so right now,” Trevor said, running his hand through his hair. “Do you know why I’m around all the time?”

  Even when they were apart, Trevor always called or texted to check up on him. If he hadn’t needed someone in his camp as badly as he did, he might have told his brother he was laying it on too thick. Instead, he curled his lip at him. “Because you’re a masochist.”

  This time Trevor pushed him back. “No. It’s because I love you! We all love you. During your divorce proceedings, Mom used to cry at night.”

  And his mother was tough as nails. “Stop it.” He couldn’t take this new level of suffering.

  “Dad would pace the floors for hours. Michaela got an ulcer, and the guys all wanted to punch someone. Why do you think they don’t reach out as much? They’ve used me as the go-between because they can’t control their emotions, and they don’t want you to worry about their feelings. You’ve had enough on your plate.”

  The fight went out of him. “What? I thought they all stepped back because… Oh, shit…because they were disappointed with me. Like you are.”

  Trevor sighed deeply and was silent a moment. “You think you’ve had it bad, and I’m not saying you haven’t, but do you think it’s easy to stand by and watch someone hurt and punish someone you love—over and over again? It’s fucking hard! I hate every moment of it, and so do they. So I told them I’d look out for you until this was over. The only thing is it’s not over. It’s hard to know when it will be. If it will be.”

  His throat closed up, and for a moment he couldn’t speak. He thought about all of the awkward visits he’d had with his parents and siblings since this whole thing started. He’d felt like someone with a communicable disease. Only Trevor had been a constant, always there with his sly wit and brotherly grit.

  “I didn’t realize. I’m sorry!”

  “I know,” his brother said quietly. “So am I. What galls me is that you didn’t listen to me—or anyone else for that matter. I told you Cynthia wasn’t who you thought she was when you first started dating.”

  He remembered that day. They’d argued, a rarity for them. He’d visited his family after returning from a long weekend with Cynthia in St. Barts. Full of romantic vigor and vim, he’d announced that he’d met "The One." Trev had shocked him by telling him Cynthia wasn’t right for him, and everyone else had followed suit. He’d felt ganged up on, like they were against him and Cynthia from the start.

  At the time, it had almost made their love seem more romantic.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t listen,” he said softly. “I loved her.”

  “You loved the idea of her and all her talk about art and doing good in the world. What still pisses me off is that you didn’t trust me! Me of all people! Don’t I know you best of anyone?”

  His shout echoed in the house, and J.T. felt tears spurt into his eyes. “I don’t know what to say to make you forgive me. You’ve been holding on to this for a long time.”

  “Do you blame me?” Trevor asked. “Here I am, taking time off from my day job and our family company to help you out of another mess. Dammit, J.T., I’m tired of this shit too.”

  “Then go back to Dublin! Or wherever the hell you need to be. I don’t need you here.” At least he didn’t want to need him. Just like he didn’t want to feel like he was drowning at the mere thought of being in the thick of this without Trev.

  Hurt had him stalking past his brother toward the stairs, but Trevor grabbed his arm. He swung out in response, a reflex born of years of pent-up rage, and his brother ducked.

  “Are you really going to take a swing at me?” Trev shouted. “Man, I’m your brother.”

  When J.T. looked at his brother, he almost staggered back in shock. Trev’s eyes were wet too. Shit. Trev never cried.

  He lowered his head, shame washing over him. “I don’t want you to go. I appreciate you being here. You know I do. No one else has been.”

  His brother’s arm came around his shoulders. “I know. I’m sorry for what I said.”

  “It was true, wasn’t it?” He met Trev’s gaze. “If I had listened to you and everyone else, I wouldn’t be in this mess.”

  “But you are, and you don’t deserve it,” Trev said. “That was a low blow.”

  “You’ve never pulled punches before,” J.T. said, trying to shake it off. “And you’re right. I’ve put everyone at risk. How do you think it feels? Fucking awful, let me tell you. I’ve walked around for the last three years with my gut twisted in knots, looking over my shoulder, wondering if I’m ever going to be free of her. Now it seems like she’s never going to back off.”

  “So we have to find a way to stop her,” Trevor said. “Short of killing her, of course.”

  J.T. snorted. “She wouldn’t die. She’s like Rasputin. She just keeps coming back over and over again.”

  “So you do have experience with necrophilia,” Trev said, marching over to the bar. “I always thought so. Sick, bro.”

  It was a miracle he could laugh. “Don’t judge.”

  Trev poured himself another bourbon. “Want one?”

  “God, no,” he said. “I almost bawled like a baby just now.”

  Trev downed the bourbon. “Me too. All the more reason for bourbon.”

  Shit, was there any wonder he loved his brother? “I should go see Caroline tonight. Then again, maybe I really should stay away. I mean, she put on her breastplate and keeps hanging in there, but—”

  “If you say what I think you’re going to say, I really am going to hit you. Before you check your phone to see if your sweet little dove called or texted, I need a few things from you.”

  He gave him his full attention. “Anything.”

  “It’s time to tell me everything you remember about Cynthia’s philanthropic dealings or former sexual partners. Anything we can use.”

  They’d discussed it before, and he’d always said he wouldn’t fight dirty. She’d been his wife, and somehow, even after everything she’d done, he’d never wanted to go that low. As he looked at Trev, he knew those days were over.

  “What do you want to know?”

  Chapter 18

  Caroline was waiting for J.T. outside her new digs when he drove up.

  She’d unpacked her suitcase and m
ade herself familiar with the guesthouse. While she couldn’t see Blake and Natalie’s house, it was comforting to know it was close by on their property. She was going to have the privacy she craved.

  “Wow!” J.T. said when he exited his car, a paper bag in his hands. “From mom’s to a modern two-story guesthouse made mostly out of glass. You must get incredible views of the valley from here. Looks like your luck is improving.”

  She sure as heck hoped so. As he drew closer to the front porch lights, she noticed his face looked haggard.

  “Blake and Natalie were sweethearts to let me stay here.”

  The mere thought of their kindness brought tears to her eyes. Natalie had come over after work with dinner since Caroline hadn’t gone grocery shopping yet. They’d eaten together while Blake went on a run with Touchdown. Her sister had teased her some more about being a lightweight, saying there was no question they had the same blood. Still, she’d felt the weight of her sister’s concern. Natalie had kept looking at her when she didn’t think she was looking.

  “It’s nice to have family,” J.T. said in an odd voice.

  She drew him inside, and the moment he shut the door, he set the bag aside and took her in his arms. They didn’t speak. She pressed her face into his chest and felt him inhale a ragged breath. Yeah, they were both walking on emotional eggshells. He’d clearly had a bad day, and she’d spent the last couple of hours struggling to stay positive.

  “I brought some more hazelnut gelato,” he said. “It’s not up to Rome standards, but I hear it’s just the ticket for tough days.”

  Funny how hazelnut gelato only reminded her of better days, but she appreciated the gesture. “Good thing since I’m off tequila. That bad, huh? Who would have thought I’d have the better day of the two of us?”

  He grunted. “Yeah. I have to tell you something.”

  Fear coiled in her belly.

  “The museum looks to be in serious trouble,” he said, “and I could be as well.”

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “Let me fill you in,” he said. “Can we sit outside? I know it’s crisp, but I need the air.”

  Perhaps that would keep her head clear as well. It was starting to spin with bad scenarios. What would she do if the museum didn’t come to fruition? She’d have to find another job for sure, but could she really hope to find one in Denver after Kendra had fired her for cause? And where did that leave her and J.T.? If the museum wasn’t going to happen, he wouldn’t have a reason to stay. Would she follow him somewhere? Oh, she just didn’t know right now.

  “Let me grab a blanket,” she said, rushing to the couch, where a few blankets were folded over the arms, so new the packaging creases were visible. She took one for each of them. “There’s a nice deck out back.”

  “Do you want the gelato now or later?” he asked.

  “Later,” she said, not wanting to mix it with bad news. “Let’s put it in the freezer.”

  They finally settled in on the wooden bench lining the deck, blankets overlapping as they snuggled up to each other. The mountain air was cold but dry, and the million stars above were well worth the chill on her face. She could breathe out here.

  He took her hand. “The situation isn’t pretty.”

  As he told her about his meeting with Dr. Slimeball and the chat he’d had afterward with Uncle Arthur and her cousins, she was glad for the dark. Surely he would have seen the tension in her face otherwise.

  “We’re going to get this museum up and running,” he said, rubbing her arms in assurance. “I don’t know how yet, but we’ll find a way.”

  The mountain before them seemed colossal right now, but she said, “I know you will.”

  “You don’t have to worry about a job either. I’d like to bring you on board as an art consultant. You can start working on the collection as if the museum’s a go.”

  “But that would be on your own dime, and I—”

  “That doesn’t matter,” he said. “What’s important is making sure we’re moving forward on some fronts even though it feels like we’re moving backward on others.”

  That was one way of putting it. “What I meant was… It felt like we were crossing some lines anyway—working together and being together—but somehow it seemed like less of a conflict since you wouldn’t be directly…well, you know…paying my salary.”

  “I can see how you might think that, but I’d feel better if we could agree to this. It’ll be like staying in this guesthouse. Temporary. Besides, maybe working on the museum would be fun for you right now.”

  She heard another argument he didn’t make—he wouldn’t have the time. No, he would be out fighting Goliath while she organized which paintings they’d display in their Impressionist wing.

  “Okay, but I’m going to have Moira…ah…negotiate everything for me then,” she said. “No one is more professional, and I don’t want you and me to have to talk about a salary and such.”

  Not when they were sleeping together.

  “Let’s go a step further,” he said, taking her hand. “I’ll have Trev negotiate with Moira. That way, we’re both out of it.”

  Suddenly she could breathe easier. Talking about money had never been comfortable for her, and the prospect of discussing such a thing with J.T. was even more intimidating. “Fine. It will be nice to have something to do while—”

  “We herd the board back onto the museum tour bus, so to speak?”

  Now all that was left to discuss was the trouble he seemed to be in personally. “Yes. Ah…J.T., how serious are Cynthia’s accusations of bribery and the like? Does she have evidence?”

  “No,” he said after a pause. “But she might have people looking. It’s hard to say. Of course, her family has a lot of influence, so the right whispers could trigger an investigation.”

  What would happen to him then? This sounded serious. Like go-to-jail kind of serious. It might be common practice to offer “gifts” like that, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t get him in trouble, especially if the right people started asking questions.

  “I still don’t understand this kind of revenge,” she said. “J.T., I’m scared for you.”

  “Me too,” he said, putting his arm around her under the blankets. “I’m more worried about my family and the company. And you. When I left Merriam Gas & Oil, I thought… God, I gave up everything hoping it would keep everyone I cared about safe. Now…”

  “What does Trevor say about all this?” she asked.

  “Well, we had a horrible row, and I tried to bait him into taking a swing at me. Not my finest moment.”

  Her brothers had gone hard at each other before, but they’d never gotten that physical. “Did you work it out?”

  “Yeah, mostly,” he said. “I can’t do anything about his anger, and certainly it’s justified.” His tone was harsh, but she could tell it was directed at himself, not Trev.

  Sometimes it took time to work things like that out. Natalie had pushed them all away in her grief over losing Andy’s wife, her best friend. She’d even broken up with Blake, though they’d made up, thank God. It had been hard on all of them. But time had restored Natalie to herself, and to all of them too.

  “You’ll find a way to work things out. He’s your brother.”

  “I know, and I’m so grateful he’s by my side. Caroline, my life is a total mess right now, and here I thought I had a clean state for a new beginning. Are you sure you want—”

  “Shut up,” she snapped. Her mouth dropped open into an ‘o’ when she realized what she’d said and how she’d said it. “Oh my God, that was harsh. Sorry. What I meant was…I’m scared too, but I still love you. And I don’t like hearing you talk about yourself like that.”

  “You’re right,” he said. “I need to shake this off. I haven’t even asked how you’re doing. Your world has been turned upside down. I never want you to think it’s all about me. I might be feeling bogged down right now, but you matter. I want to support you. Give you what you nee
d.”

  A part of her belly ignited at that thought. Maybe what they needed right now was to stop thinking for a while and just be together. Yes, that was it.

  “Come with me,” she said, taking his hand.

  He followed her inside. “Are you sure this is a good idea? I’m pretty emotional right now, and you’re—”

  “Shhh…”

  She led him to the bedroom she’d chosen for herself. It was bigger than her room in Denver, and it smelled of wood smoke from the fire Blake had started earlier to cover up the last of the fresh paint smell. Somehow that made the house feel more grounded, and she realized she needed that right now. She felt like she was walking a tightrope with her life.

  “I love you, J.T.,” she said simply. “We’re both a little lost right now, but when I see you, my heart still lights up.”

  He looked off, like he was at war with all the emotion inside him. She stepped closer to him and put her hand on his chest.

  “And when you touch me, I want you to keep on touching me. J.T., I want to hear you laugh again, like when we were in Rome together eating at that quiet trattoria.”

  “We will laugh again,” he said. “I promise you that, Caroline. I love you too. It means a lot that you’re willing to stick by me.”

  What a funny thing to say—had he expected her to turn tail and run? Then she remembered how the rest of his family had stepped back, whatever their reasons. “That’s not who I am. It’s not like you deserve this kind of treatment.”

  He coughed to clear his throat. “The bribery stuff… I need you to know that the money I paid out was always to someone’s pet project, like a hospital or a school. I need to be clear on that. I never just gave out cash. Our company decided that in Emmits’ time, and it’s continued on that way. It’s important you know I’m not a crook.”

  “I would never think that.” She took his hand and squeezed it. “J.T., it’s time to be quiet.”

  His mind was spinning, and hers wasn’t much better. Well, she had a solution for that. He hesitated, almost as though he was struggling again with whether he deserved to be with her, so she pressed herself against him and took over. Helped him shrug out of his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt.