Dare to Hope

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Dare to Hope Page 20

by Caitlin Ricci


  “Samuel, Misha here. I can’t talk long, but got a text from a very upset Chris. What the hell happened, man? Don’t let Chris push you around with his dramatics. I thought you knew how to handle him, because if you can’t, then maybe you’re not right for him after all. Never thought you’d give up so easily.”

  Without reservation Samuel dialed the number, which went straight to message. “Listen asshole, butt out of my business. Chris and his dramatics can go take a hike. We’ve tried to love, help, and support him, and the only thing we get in return is his selfishness. He’s like a petulant child. I don’t want to babysit anyone or handle anyone, as you call it. He needs to grow the fuck up. He’s on the way to forty but acts fifteen. And I can’t give up on anyone I’ve never had, mate.” He disconnected the call and threw the phone on the coffee table. He picked up his cup and started sipping the hot liquid, once again trying to calm himself down before talking to Kaden, but by the time he finished the drink, he changed his mind about calling his friend. Nothing is quite as good as face to face.

  When he came to a stop in front of Kaden’s house, the door opened and both Kaden and Bran came out, their expressions worried, probably because he was back from Manhattan so early.

  When he came to the top of the steps of the deck, Bran came forward and gave him a warm hug. “You look tired.”

  Kaden gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Come on in.”

  When they were all seated comfortably in the lounge, they sat across from him, waiting for him to talk.

  “Have you heard from Chris?” he asked.

  “Where is he?” Bran demanded instead.

  “In Manhattan, where he obviously loves to be,” Samuel spat, his temper already rising again. This shit was bad for his blood pressure.

  Bran threw a pillow at him, surprising him.

  “You weren’t supposed to leave him there! He doesn’t weigh that much. You could have dragged him. Seriously, what the hell, Samuel?”

  The usual humor he felt at Bran’s tactics had taken a hike today. “Listen, Bran. I’m in no mood for drama. I’ve had a truckload of that in the few hours I spent in New York. I’m not dragging anyone anywhere when it comes to being in relationship with me. They either come willingly or they can fucking stay where they are. Easy as that.”

  Bran glared at him, but it was Kaden who spoke up.

  “Why don’t you let Samuel tell you what happened?”

  “It had better be good,” Bran growled, crossing his arms over his chest.

  Samuel glared at him. “Frankly, I don’t give a shit whether you think it’s good or not.” He turned his attention to Kaden, completely ignoring Bran for his own sanity. “Maybe coming here wasn’t such a good idea after all. I thought speaking to you in person might be better than a phone call or a text.”

  Kaden appeared sad. “If you texted me, I would’ve come to kick your ass. What’s up, Sam?”

  He took a deep breath. “Everything was fine the first night I got there. Misha and I paid Pavel a visit, and I put the fear of the Maori warriors into him, hopefully. Chris quit his job earlier that day, apparently. So Misha and I had a dual purpose for going there—to pick up Chris’s personal belongings and to tell his father to leave him alone. Chris was cold towards me and obviously surprised to see me standing in his apartment, but once Misha said his good-byes and left for his next mission, we talked and smoothed things out a bit.”

  Kaden nodded. “That’s when he called Bran for the first time since leaving here.”

  Bran nodded, for once not interrupting or demanding answers before someone could give them to him. He lacked any real form of patience.

  “Yes. So we had a nice evening, talked some more, and he had a rough time throughout the night because of the emotional toll of what had gone down with his dad. He came to me, and we worked through it and he was better. I made us breakfast the next morning and decided to go do some sightseeing after. That’s when he called Bran from the World Trade Center Memorial.” Samuel rubbed a hand over his face, not believing this had all happened less than twenty-four hours ago.

  “Sounds like a nice time, sort of,” Bran quietly said.

  It wasn’t interrupting, not really. And his words didn’t bother Samuel. He looked worried, and Samuel knew he had a right to be. Only Chris wasn’t his problem anymore.

  “He found it hard to be there, so we went back to the apartment. And that’s when the whole thing came apart. From what I understand, Chris intended to come back to New Zealand for three months to recover before heading back there to start up a practice of his own. Oh, yes. He meant to pursue a relationship with me in that time and then continue as who knows what while he lives in New York and I here.” Samuel started bouncing his knee as the indignant anger and hurt bloomed inside his chest.

  “It is a sort of practical plan, though,” Bran spoke up, earning himself a sharp look from them both. “What? It is. He’s not a lawyer down here. The relationship would be shitty, but I mean… oh never mind.” Bran wisely shut his mouth and went to cleaning his thumbnail.

  Kaden shook his head slowly. “I’m sorry, mate. I know how you feel about such relationships after what Ian did to you, and I’m 100 percent on the same page as you. If Bran and I hadn’t come to some sort of solution, we wouldn’t be sitting here, because I wouldn’t have settled for long distance either.”

  Samuel nodded his thanks for Kaden’s support. “You know what makes me the maddest? That he decided all this before even talking to me. In his selfish world, the whole thing was planned out, as if he was the only one in the relationship and he had all the say. Who the hell does he think I am? On those terms, I’m literally looking forward to being his weekend lay once every three months. I thank God I didn’t give in and have sex with him, because then this would have been so much worse.”

  He looked up to find Bran glaring at him again.

  “First of all, I’m mad at you. Like completely mad at you. For Chris to offer that, it was a big deal to him. His longest relationship was six months. That’s it. You think spending three months in a new country would be easy? Hell, I considered that kind of a plan too, but I had the sense to keep my mouth shut before saying anything to Kaden. Just because you’ve been with guys longer than him doesn’t mean his way is wrong, and yeah, he should have said something more than that to you, but he works on negotiation. He says something, you say something, you two come to a compromise. That’s how lawyers work. I’m calling this fight your fault.”

  Samuel felt his face heat up. Not good. “Kaden, keep your bitch on a leash, or I will leave here and you won’t see me for a long time, if ever.”

  Bran looked like he wanted to say something, but Kaden clamped a hand over his mouth.

  “Baby, it’s okay. I know you’re mad on behalf of Chris, but we weren’t there. Let’s take a breath. And Samuel didn’t mean to be an ass to you right there. He’s stressed. Aren’t you, Samuel? Because you’d be mad if I called Chris a bitch. Wouldn’t you?”

  “I’m not stressed. I’m fucking pissed that every time Bran and Chris get confronted about their shit, they use their money, statuses, or emotional crap to excuse it. I mean, try going through what I went through and we’ll talk again. They use their baggage to hurt people through their selfishness, and I won’t smooth that over anymore. The bottom line is this. Chris may be a lawyer familiar with compromise. I’m not one. That’s why a relationship consists of two people. In Chris’s world there is only him and maybe you, Bran. And I won’t play fucking second fiddle to anyone ever again. I want someone in my life who loves me and wants to be with me all the time. A person who can’t wait to see me when we’re apart and who couldn’t imagine having a better time than spending it with me. And I know that is not a fairy tale, because it’s possible and real. I’ve seen it in your parents’ marriage. That’s what I want, and if Chris can’t give me a decent opportunity to try, then this is over before it’s even begun. Listen, Kaden. I’m gonna go. I’m not fit for com
pany right now.” He rose from his seat, ready to leave.

  “Is that what you think we do too?” Bran asked Kaden as soon as Samuel was done talking.

  Kaden looked between them both. “Samuel, stay. You’re fine. Bran, yes. I do. Sometimes you’re exactly like Samuel just described. Chris has to own up to his own bullshit. Just like I make you do.”

  Bran got up and pulled out his phone. “Yep. Uh-huh.”

  “Babe…,” Kaden called after him.

  “I’m only going for a walk.” Bran kissed him on his cheek and stood there looking at Samuel for a few seconds before coming over and hugging him. “Missed you. Glad you’re home. Don’t call me a bitch again unless you’re playing.”

  Despite his annoyance, he managed a small smile for Bran. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” Bran stepped back. “You’ve heard the kind of crap I’ve called Chris when I’m mad at him. Hell, I even smack him around a bit. You two have fun.” He headed outside with his phone in his hand. Samuel figured he was probably going to try to call Chris.

  “He’ll be fine,” Kaden assured him. “It takes time with them.”

  Samuel sighed and sat back down. “Time I don’t have. Sorry, but you’re much stronger than I am in that way.”

  “I’m really not stronger than you. Not at all. You think there aren’t days when we don’t talk to each other for hours?” Kaden laughed and shook his head. “Bran can get mad over nothing, like a wet towel on the floor, and I deal with it because I love him. We don’t share our fights, but we have them. It’s part of being in a relationship. And I believe that if you and Chris are supposed to work out, you will. Cooling down for a while will help, I think. And if you don’t want to be with him after this, because I can tell you I wouldn’t be okay with half the crap Chris does that I hear about, then that’s on him. Not you. At least you tried.”

  “I know that, and I don’t expect smooth sailing, but I’m not starting anything with Chris if he’s already decided to put minimum effort into it. Then it’s doomed to fail from the start. I’m not putting my heart at risk again without some promise of it paying off.”

  Kaden nodded. “And you shouldn’t. Do you want a drink or anything? You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. Just don’t go home angry. I know you’re tired, though.”

  “I’ve actually slept quite a lot, but it’s the emotional ride that’s getting to me. I’ll have a glass of orange juice if you have any.” Samuel could feel the strain of the last few weeks pulling him down.

  Kaden got up. “Come through to the kitchen.”

  Once there Kaden poured them both a glass of orange juice, and they sat at the kitchen table to drink it.

  “I know you. You’re going to jump right back into work once you get home. Take a day or so and rest up. Do something senseless like watch movies or go for a hike to take your mind off things.”

  Samuel thought it not such a bad idea. “I may do that. I’ll take my fishing rod and drive up to a nice spot and wet the line and see if I still have it.”

  Kaden grinned. “We must take out Trent’s boat again soon. That way we can actually catch the big ones deeper in the bay.”

  “Sounds like heaven right now. I’m so over drama and conflict I could scream or pull all my hair out if I had any long enough.” Samuel pulled his thoughts in line when he started wondering what Chris was doing. The sooner he forgot about the other man, the better off his heart would be, despite the hurt already caused.

  Kaden pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll text Trent about it so he can work it into his schedule over the next week or so.”

  By the time Samuel finished his drink, Bran was still nowhere to be seen, and Kaden walked him out as he prepared to leave.

  “Thanks, buddy. I’ll see you whenever,” he said as he opened his truck door and got in.

  Kaden gave him a wave, his expression still worried.

  He didn’t know what the future had in store for him, but for now he had to get his head on straight. Chris might not need him, but his cows, the land, his friends, and family sure did, and it was time he started concentrating on that.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  BY THE time Chris got up the nerve to drag his ass over to see all of them, a week had gone by. He wasn’t particularly proud of that fact, but he’d barely been able to make himself get on a plane either, not when it seemed like everyone he cared about in the country wanted nothing to do with him. He’d promised Misha that he’d make a stop there, but he was being slow about it, and his brother wasn’t happy about his delay tactics at all.

  The motorcycle he’d rented rumbled under him as he drove slowly past Samuel’s house. His truck wasn’t in the driveway by the purple mailbox with the cow, so he kept going on down the road, figuring he would be at Kaden and Bran’s house. As long as Trent was there too, Chris could handle seeing the rest of them. He didn’t want any trouble, didn’t feel up to arguing with them, and certainly didn’t want to have a repeat of the last time he was in their house. He only wanted to get Misha’s dog tag to Trent. His brother had already called him three times since he’d arrived in New Zealand a few days before, asking him when he planned to give Trent his present.

  He’d been able to delay some, but Misha wasn’t a patient man, and Chris generally tried not to be a coward. He turned the bike down a familiar driveway and stopped it, letting the bike’s big engine rumble a little as he sat behind Bran’s sporty white sedan. Samuel’s truck was there too, along with a few cars and trucks he wasn’t familiar with. He hoped one of those belonged to Trent and that he wouldn’t have to get up the guts to come back out here again. One and done sounded like a much better plan to him.

  Turning off the bike, he sat back and flexed his fingers a little. He’d kept his license up but hadn’t been on a bike in over two years, and the constant vibration had gotten to him. It wasn’t bad, though, and even though it was incredibly vain, he thought he looked fucking hot as hell in head-to-toe black motorcycle gear as he rode on the shiny black bike. He’d gotten more than a few appreciative looks while riding around Thames.

  By the time he got off the bike, the front door had been opened and Kaden was standing there, watching him. Chris took off the helmet as he came up, revealing himself, and he saw Kaden’s expression go from surprised to concerned.

  “Is Trent here?” Chris asked him.

  Kaden narrowed his gaze at him. “Working your way through my friends now?”

  Chris snorted, then rolled his eyes. “Why, yes. That’s exactly what I’m doing. I decided to break things off with Samuel, then make a move on the guy my brother is into. Be careful. Next up it’ll be you.” Joking with Kaden, even sarcastically, felt weird, and Chris quickly dropped the act. “It’s a favor to Misha. I’ll only be a few minutes. Then you won’t ever have to see me again,” he promised Kaden.

  Shaking his head, Kaden let him in, and Chris stepped around him. “I can’t believe you’re willing to hurt Bran that much.”

  As much as Kaden thought he knew, there wasn’t really anything to talk to him about where he and Bran were concerned. He headed into the living room, where he could hear people talking, and stopped short as everyone quickly cut off whatever they were going to say as soon as they spotted him.

  Bran smiled at him, but Chris was paying far more attention to Samuel. Pulling his attention from Samuel’s surprised expression nearly hurt. He wanted to be able to go up and kiss him, to slide into his lap and never leave. But that wasn’t ever going to happen. So he turned his attention instead to Trent, who sat on the other side of Samuel.

  Thankfully there was space on the other side of Trent, and Chris plopped himself down there on the comfortable leather couch.

  “How long are you staying?” Bran asked him. “Want some lunch?”

  Chris didn’t think he could answer him, not really anyway, so he only shook his head and pulled his backpack off. “Trent, I have something for you, from Misha.”

  “O
h?”

  Trent sounded wary, not that Chris could really blame him for feeling that way.

  Chris nodded and brought out a small wooden box, barely bigger than the size of his palm and delicately carved with scenes of men fishing. “Here.”

  Trent took it from his hand and turned the box over in his fingers. “It’s a lovely box.”

  “The present isn’t the box. That’s something I saw near my place in Thames and thought it looked nice. Open it up,” Chris said. The others were all looking at him, the only exception being Trent, who had his focus solely trained on the small wooden box in his hands.

  Chris looked only at him, trying to ignore everyone else, as Trent opened the box and the shiny silver dog tag fell out into his open palm. Chris heard his sharp intake of breath and hoped he liked Misha’s gift.

  “Tell him thanks for me?” Trent quietly asked him.

  Chris nodded. “I’d like to say you can tell him yourself, but he doesn’t really answer his texts or calls when he’s doing missions. Try him anyway, though. His number never changes, and eventually you’ll get through.” He got up from the couch, glad to have been able to do this small thing for Misha and for Trent as he watched Trent slide the chain over his neck and pass the tag under his shirt. “If I talk to him before you do, I’ll let him know you liked it.”

  He pulled one more thing out of his backpack, a small cloth bag he’d had tucked in the innermost pocket, and slowly started heading toward Samuel. He felt like prey, with his heart racing in his ears and his fingers shaking as he dangled the bag from them, but he wasn’t some meek man. He was a rejected one, full of hurt, and by the time he dropped the bag into Samuel’s lap as he sat there silently on the couch, Chris hoped that showed.

  “Remember when I came to your house and I told you I didn’t want you to pick me up? It was because I was getting this on my way. Keep it, toss it, at this point I don’t care.”

  Walking away from Samuel as he fixed his backpack across his back, he tried not to think about Samuel, about how the necklace he’d just given him had the Maori word for love, aroha, engraved on it, or anything else as he headed toward the front door.

 

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