by Kayla, Mia
Martina lifted her bowl of cut-up peppers, stood, and walked over to my mother, handing her the bowl. “Where are we going?”
“Out. For fun.”
“Why can’t I go?” Alma pouted, looking left out.
“Because you”—I pointed my knife, taking a pepper from her—“have way too much fun as it is.”
“Go,” my mother said as she labored over the stove. “You need to get out, or you’ll be living with me forever. I might be single, but I need grandchildren. From each of you.” She pointed her wooden spoon at us, one at a time for emphasis.
I groaned. Grandchildren were a long way off, especially since I couldn’t keep a man or find a man even remotely normal.
“Where are we going?” Martina opened the faucet and sudsed up her fingers.
I grinned, trying to make it sound more fun that I knew it would be. “Speed-dating.”
She turned to fully face me, her wet hands dripping on the floor, the sink still running behind her. “What?”
I wasn’t about to tell her that it was a spur-of-the-moment decision even though I was known for my spontaneity.
My mother turned off the sink behind her, grabbing the towel and wrapping it around Martina’s fingers. “You’re going with your sister.” And that was that. Mama always won.
I smirked at her. And who knew? Maybe I’d even find a remotely normal guy while speed-dating.
Chapter 2
Mason
I tapped my knuckles against the steering wheel and stared at our house—the home I’d grown up in, the palatial estate with its white fluted columns and manicured hedges lining the front.
My parents were long gone, killed in an accident that had taken them both. When I thought of them, sadness still tightened around my throat as though the accident had happened yesterday.
Now, my oldest brother, Charles, and his family occupied our childhood home.
I’d been sitting here a while, just staring, remembering, and feeling remorse about everything that had happened tonight with Janice. Who knew how long I’d been sitting in the car, thirty minutes?
If I entered the house, Charles would wake up. It was one in the morning, and he’d hear the alarm, indicating a door had opened, and then my two nieces would wake up as well.
I didn’t want to wake him, yet I didn’t want to go to my condo in the city. Not tonight.
My life had always been planned out, predictable. And my five-year plan had been going according to schedule until I decided Janice wasn’t for me.
Isn’t this my fault? Isn’t this chaos my doing?
My head flipped at the sound behind me. A car’s lights flickered down the long driveway. Since we had a security gate, I knew it could only be Brad.
There were three of us. All boys. Charles, Brad, and me—the baby.
I shook my head and chuckled. Though we were polar opposites in almost every definition of the term, we were the same in that our childhood home was our safe place.
Somehow, we always ended up here. Not only because we loved seeing our two nieces, but also because, when we couldn’t sleep, we’d come back here from our places in Chicago, to Barrington, to think things through, clear our heads.
Isn’t that why I’m here? To clear my head about Janice?
Brad parked parallel to my car on our circular driveway, and we stepped out at the same time.
Damn. And I thought I looked bad.
Brad’s hair stood up on end. He was in a T-shirt, sweats, and slippers.
Slippers? Did he forget his shoes somewhere?
Heavy bags lined his eyes. He tipped his head in greeting, and I followed him inside the house in silence. He stalked straight to the fridge, grabbed two beers, twisted off the tops, and plopped down at the kitchen table. He slid the extra bottle of Guinness down the table my way and sighed heavily.
His heavy sigh grated on my nerves, and I tried not to roll my eyes. He had the perfect girlfriend, the perfect life. A life I’d thought I had until I realized I was with the wrong girl altogether. He was living my five-year plan.
The sound of footsteps padded down the stairs, and a few seconds later, Sarah, my thirteen-year-old niece, appeared.
“What are you doing up?” Brad said.
Her hair was pulled up in a high ponytail, and she was sporting a Def Deception band shirt. “I heard the door.”
Every time a door opened, the alarm system would indicate which door had been opened.
“You really should be sleeping.”
Studies showed that teenagers needed ten hours of sleep a night.
Being a typical teenager and ignoring my statement, she pulled out a chair and sat in her regular spot beside me. “Why are you both here tonight?” Her voice was tinged with amusement. She bumped her shoulder against mine, and a playfulness danced in her eyes. “Janice,” she confirmed all knowingly, as though she were thirty, not thirteen.
I groaned.
She turned to Brad. “Did you know she was at the coffee shop this morning?”
Once a month, Sarah and I worked out together. We’d run the track at the gym or on the trail if it was warmer outside. After, we’d hit up Coffee Beaners and catch up. I’d grab my coffee, and she’d always grab a wheat bagel and their freshly squeezed orange juice.
Sarah smirked. “She’s stalking him.”
I huffed. “No. That was completely random. She likes going there too.”
But she would have also known that I was taking Sarah there that morning since that was routine for me.
Brad threw me a pointed look. “I told you to file a restraining order against her.”
Who knew if he was serious, but I ignored his comment. I wasn’t in the mood to argue today, overly exhausted from earlier with Janice.
Sarah smiled victoriously. “But I saved the day because I lied, told Uncle Mason I had cramps so we had to go home.”
“Sarah?” Charles appeared from the entryway to the kitchen, eyes heavy with sleep.
Facing one stern, fatherly glare, Sarah smiled, all teeth. “Dad … I’m going.” She hopped onto her feet before her dad got another word in and kissed him on the way out. “Good night, everyone.”
“Both of you tonight?” Charles eyed the beers. “Bad night?”
“You can say that,” I said gruffly.
When Brad remained silent, Charles turned his attention his way. “And you? Where’s Sonia?”
Sonia had been Brad’s secretary—until he’d started dating her. Now, she was my secretary.
Brad rubbed at his brow before tipping back his Guinness. “Home.”
Charles took a seat at the table, ready to offer his big-brother advice.
After our parents had died, Charles had taken on the head-of-the-household role, and that was why he fit the CEO role of Brisken Printing perfectly, a company that our parents had started.
Charles was decisive and took charge and was a no-bullshit kind of guy.
We’d been at this table—or one similar to this—way too many times before. It was always the same order—Charles sitting at the head of the family table or the head of the boardroom table, Brad to his right, and me to his left.
“What’s going on?” Charles asked. “Give me the ugly.”
And that was my oldest brother—to the point, direct, not wasting any time getting to the root of the problem.
Brad was staring at his Guinness like it held all the answers, so I went first.
“Janice came over again.”
“Mmm.” Charles tipped his chin. “Why did you let her in?” The way he asked the question indicated he already knew the answer.
Why did I let her into my place? Why couldn’t I break it off completely with her and terminate this endless cycle?
“She was standing at my door … crying. Again.” That was the truth of the matter.
Her tears got me every single time. She’d taken an Uber, thinking she’d sleep over. Too bad I’d had other ideas and had to drive her home.
&
nbsp; Charles stood and then walked to the fridge. “I think I need a beer for this one.”
I didn’t blame Charles for his look of disappointment. I’d been down this road more than once over the last month, complaining about how I couldn’t get rid of her yet letting her back into my life over and over again.
“You know what I’m going to say, right?” Charles reached for the bottle opener on the table.
“Yeah. But I still care about her.”
We’d been together years, so how could I not? I just didn’t see her in my future anymore. Not in the way she wanted to be.
“We’ve been through this. You can’t be friends if she’s not over you.” He settled back into his seat, and before he spoke his next words, the sound of a six-year-old crying interrupted our conversation.
“Charles?” Becky, my sister-in-law, called from the stairs. She was Charles’s second wife, their former nanny, a saint, one who fit perfectly into our family and had saved Charles from the never-ending heartache of losing his first wife. “Mary wet her bed.”
Brad perked up and glanced toward the stairs. It was the first time he’d looked up from his beer.
Charles knocked the table twice and then stood. “Daddy duty calls.”
Brad’s eyebrows furrowed, his eyes looking troubled. “When did she start doing that again?”
Charles shrugged. “It’s been a long time since her last accident. She’s older already, so she shouldn’t be doing it anymore.”
“It could be anxiety,” I offered. “I read an article last week that anxiety is hitting kids younger and younger.”
Though I had no idea what his kids had to worry about. Charles paid the bills and put food on the table. Anything their parents didn’t get them, Brad and I bought.
Brad shot me a look and then turned his attention back on Charles. “Anything happen at school?”
“The same article said that kids are getting bullied in kindergarten,” I piped up again before taking another sip of my beer.
Brad sat straighter in his seat. “Has she said anything to you?” he asked Charles, looking like the worrywart uncle that he was. His grip tightened on the bottle. He shook his head and then stood. “I’ll ask her. She’ll tell me.”
Where I had a special bond with Sarah, my thirteen-year-old niece, Brad had a special bond with Mary.
Charles placed a light hand on Brad’s shoulder. “Stay here. I’ll take care of it. You two look like you have bigger problems to tackle.”
When Charles left, Brad plopped down on his chair and drained the rest of his bottle.
The air blasting through the vents filled the silence between us. He and I didn’t communicate all that well. Let’s just say, Brad and I went directly to Charles when we wanted advice or needed to vent. Never to each other. Mostly because I couldn’t stand his sarcastic ass, and he couldn’t handle the truth when I gave it to him.
After a few more minutes of silence, I decided it was time to head upstairs. If I was going to be in my own head, figuring out what the hell I was going to do about Janice, I could do that upstairs, in the comfort of my bed. Thankfully, this spacious place had enough bedrooms to accommodate Brad and me when we came home.
“Do you want another beer? I’m heading upstairs.” I pushed out the chair and tossed my empty bottle in the recycling bin.
“No. I need to get back to Sonia.”
I raised an eyebrow. He isn’t staying here? “Where does she think you are?” I wondered if they’d gotten into a fight.
“Getting her mango chocolate ice cream with chocolate chips.”
I frowned. Women. “Is that even a flavor?” Why the hell is he out for ice cream at one in the morning? Must have been one hell of a fight.
He sighed loudly. “Who knows? Probably not. I was thinking of getting mango ice cream and just adding chocolate chips.”
He rested his elbows on the table and dropped his head in his hands, rubbing the top of his forehead.
Whatever he’d done, it must have been bad. What happened?
And then he blurted out, “She’s pregnant, man.”
I reeled back and double-blinked.
Well, shit, I wasn’t expecting that.
“She’s been extra moody lately, and I know when her time of the month is because she doesn’t like to have sex. I don’t care, but she does.” He fidgeted with the neck of his T-shirt. “Those are the longest days of my month.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and blew out a breath. “I noticed she was out of pads, and I was at the grocery store, so I told her I’d grab some.”
Pick up sanitary napkins for his girlfriend? Who is this guy?
“Then, she started crying. Out of the blue.” He lifted his head, his eyes tired. He must have known for weeks because judging by the bags under his eyes, he hadn’t just found out today. “And that’s when she told me she was pregnant.” He narrowed his eyes, and his voice was strained. “Have you seen Sonia’s dad? Of course you’ve seen her dad.”
The first thing I’d noticed about Sonia’s father were his hands—how big and thick his knuckles were. The next thing I’d noticed was the huge crucifix around his neck. Brad had gone to church with their family a few times.
Yes, church. Brad was now a pretend Catholic.
Brad rubbed at his brow again as though he wanted to tear his brains out. “He has guns. Plural. He cleans them in front of me.” He pounded one hand against the table. “He’s going to kill me for knocking up his daughter before I married her.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
His head shot up, and his eyes narrowed. “Sorry? Why would you say that, man? I’m not sorry. I’m having a kid.” His face softened.
“I meant about her dad,” I cleared up.
My brother and I might not communicate all that well, but the last thing I wanted to see was his face bloodied by Sonia’s father.
“A kid. My own kid.” The corners of his lips tipped up in a small smile, and he stared at his Guinness, his gaze unfocused. “I’m going to marry her, bro.”
“Yeah.” A spark of jealousy hit me directly in the chest. This should have been me with Janice. I’d been so sure before. Now, I had no clue what direction my life was taking.
Brad pushed back the chair and shifted to reach for something in his back pocket—a small velvet box, which he placed on the table.
I reached for it and flipped open the box. A huge single solitaire sat on top of a thin platinum band. “Well … it’s big.”
His girlfriend was a petite little thing. The rock would span two of her fingers.
“I was debating on getting a smaller stone, but then I thought of Jeff, her ex.” He chuckled. “The stone is more for me so that Jeff and everyone in a hundred-foot radius can tell she’s taken. That she’s mine.”
He reached for the box and lifted it, getting a closer look. The stone glimmered, catching some of the kitchen light. “I had this for a while before she told me she was pregnant.” His voice was choked with emotion. “I was just trying to find the perfect moment to do it. What if she thinks I’m just asking her to marry me because she’s pregnant?” His expression turned vulnerable, a vulnerability I hardly ever saw from Brad.
I placed one consoling hand on his shoulder. “She won’t.”
“You just don’t understand. I love her so much.”
“I know.” That jealousy dug a little deeper. I’d had what he had. At least, I’d thought I did.
Chapter 3
Mason
The workweek flew by, and I had successfully avoided Janice, which I hadn’t done since we broke up. If she thought I was being rude, I’d take it. It was either that or live on the never-ending cycle of our new norm—the crying, the sex, the talk about how we’d broken up and how we shouldn’t be seeing each other.
Saturday morning, I left my condo in Chicago and drove to our Barrington home. In the business of life, Becky made it a point of having lunch at their house every Saturday. Sometimes, we’d all be there, and somet
imes, Brad or I would be missing. Either way, it was open and known that Saturday lunch happened in Barrington.
I walked into the house, hearing the voices of my brothers and laughter from my nieces.
I was bombarded with the scents of spices and tomatoes and lemon, and my stomach rumbled in response. Charles was assisting Becky at the stove. Whatever concoction my sister-in-law was cooking up, I was sure it was going to taste amazing. There was nothing Becky cooked that was short of a five-star meal.
“Uncle Mason!” Mary, my six-year-old niece, leapt off her chair and lunged toward me.
“Hey, princess.”
Brad patted my shoulder. “You’re late.”
I scoffed. I was never late, but recently, my mind had been all over the place. “Becky said one thirty,” I lied.
“I said one o’clock.” Becky waved from the stove. “Mason, there is chicken piccata and pasta here. Also, Charles made a salad.”
“Thanks. Where’s Sarah?” I kissed Mary’s forehead and placed her on the ground.
“Sarah’s upstairs. She’ll be down in a bit.”
After grabbing my food, I plopped in my spot at the table. Janice’s spot was noticeably empty.
“No offense, bro. But you look like shit.” With Brad, he always meant offense.
Sonia slapped his side. He was in a much better mood than he’d been the last time I saw him. He walked to the kitchen table, pulled out a chair for Sonia, and sat down next to her.
And I couldn’t help it; I sat there, staring at her stomach. It had been a week since he told me Sonia was pregnant, and I guessed, now that he was back to his normal self, I could assume he’d settled everything with Sonia.
Brad … a father. Inside, I hoped for a nephew. Playing Barbie and watching princess videos was fun, but I wanted to teach the kid how to swing a golf club. Not like I couldn’t teach my nieces, but they just weren’t interested in sports. Sarah was into music, and Mary … Mary was the typical girl, girlie enough for the both of them.
Brad cleared his throat and gave me a death stare.
