99 Percent Mine

by Sally Thorne

  “Oh fuck,” I say out loud. Patty tilts her head at me, hearing the desperation in my tone. “Patty, I didn’t tell him I love him back.”

  Chapter 20

  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? In
troduce 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.”