Broken: The Cavanaugh Brothers

by Laura Wright

  Thunder and heat rumbled through him. “Last night was amazing. You were amazing. I love making you feel like that.”

  Her cheeks turned pink, but she shook her head at him. “I don’t mean that. I’m talking about what happened at dinner. After dinner.”

  It was like a window closing in front of him. And he was the one shutting it in her face. He couldn’t stop himself. “I had to talk with my brothers about the ranch, about—”

  “Cass’s death?” she said.

  A breeze blew across the land and James felt himself grow cold. “Yeah. Maybe some of that too.”

  Her eyes implored him. “You could tell me about it.”

  “I don’t want to,” he returned quickly. “I don’t like talking about it.”

  “With me?”

  “With anyone.”

  “But maybe you need to.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “What are you doing, Sheridan?”

  “Trying to get you to open up to me,” she said passionately. “This is what it looks like, James. A relationship. I’m not all that experienced or anything, but I’m pretty sure the people in them share scary, hard shit with each other. Are you going to let me in?”

  “I have let you in. We’re living together, sleeping together—”

  “No,” she said fiercely. “Into here.” She put her hand on his chest. “I need to know if this is it. If this is as deep as we go.”

  James felt the heat of her palm through his T-shirt.

  “I need to know,” she said as her breath caught, “because I think I’m falling in love with you.”

  James felt the blood drain from his face. Love. Holy fuck. Love was how things went from wonderful to destroyed.

  She backed up an inch or two. “Look. I’m not trolling for an I think I might love you too. I’m just trying to be honest. If you aren’t capable of something real, please tell me. I want us to be able to stay friends.” She gave him a sad smile. “I just don’t want to get hurt. And I know you don’t want to hurt me.”

  “Of course I don’t.” The word friends gnawed the shit out of his gut, piranha-style. The word love was battering his blood.

  “Well, pretending this is something more than a fling will do that.” She glanced at her watch. “I got to get going. I’m working on flowers with Mac, then checking on a few things for tonight’s dinner.”

  Shit, tonight’s dinner. He’d forgotten. “I can meet you later,” he suggested. “Help.”

  She shook her head. “I’ll handle it. Can you just hang here and make sure the caterer, the rentals, and the band all have what they need?”

  “Of course.”

  “Great.” She started to walk away, then stopped and glanced over her shoulder. “Hey. I didn’t thank you for the Reese’s cake. That was really sweet.” She gave him a quick smile before heading on her way.

  James turned to face the arena and the miles and miles of Triple C land beyond, wishing he’d been born somewhere else, and into another family, another life. Then he might be the kind of man who deserved Sheridan. The kind of man who grabbed and kissed a woman when she told him she might be in love with him.

  But the Triple C had broken his heart.

  And God only knew if he’d ever be able to heal.

  • • •

  “Ouch,” Sheridan said with a hiss.

  Mac glanced up from the pile of flowers in the center of the table they’d taken over at Marabelle’s. “What?”

  “Thorn,” she said, sucking the tiny drop of blood off the pad of her pointer finger.

  Mac sat back in her chair. “I appreciate you risking your life for me and my wedding.”

  Laughing, Sheridan placed the three boutonnieres into the box. “I can’t believe we made these happen. The Internet is an amazing thing. Hey, Stevie,” she called out. “Could you put this into the fridge?”

  The waitress appeared from the back of the diner. “Sure thing, hon.” She scooped up the box but not before taking a look. “Very nice.”

  Sheridan beamed proudly. “Thank you.” When she turned back to face Mac, the woman was staring at her with a silly look on her face.

  “What?” she asked.

  Gesturing at her with a red rose, Mac said, “Look at you.”

  Instantly, Sheridan glanced down and did a quick personal inventory. No obvious stains. Did she have food on her face? In her teeth? Wait, they hadn’t eaten yet.

  “All comfortable around River Black,” Mac continued. “Knowing everybody’s name.” Her brows drifted up. “You’d better be careful or you’re never going to want to leave.”

  That took the wind right out of her sails. “Right,” Sheridan said, gathering up some flowers to start the small table vases.

  “Which would be great for me, is what I mean,” Mac continued. “Okay, what did I say?”

  “It’s fine,” Sheridan insisted. “Just interesting timing is all.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, I’ve been thinking about going back to Dallas. I have work and my apartment. And frankly, my life there.”

  “Ah, crap,” Mac said on a groan. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” Sheridan said, though her heart was squeezing with just the idea of walking away from him.

  “Don’t make me stab you with this thorn, O’Neil.”

  Sheridan looked up and laughed, but not with any true humor. “I told James I think I’m falling in love with him.”

  “Wow.”

  “Well, you wanted to know,” she said dryly.

  “No, I mean you’re amazing. Damn, woman,” she exclaimed, waving her long-stemmed rose around. “What did he say?”

  “Not much. But there was definitely a look of panic in his eyes.”

  “Well, sure.”

  “But the thing is I didn’t say it to get him to say it back. I said it because I needed him to know where I stand. Where my head’s at.” Sheridan picked up the scissors and clipped off a few inches of stem. “That I can’t get any more serious with a man who refuses to open up to me.” If she was truly going to leave her past fears behind, she couldn’t get involved with someone who refused to allow her into his life. She didn’t mind the risk of her heart as long as they were both going to put themselves out there.

  Mac’s eyes were sympathetic. “You need to give him time.”

  “I have,” she assured her. “And it’s about to run out. I’m going to get a serious broken heart if I continue this.”

  The bell over the door jangled.

  “I understand,” Mac said. She made a face. “Is it selfish of me to want you to stay here forever?”

  She smiled at her friend. The woman who would continue to be her friend no matter what. “I work for Deacon, remember? You’re going to see me.”

  Mac’s attention wavered as she caught sight of someone behind Sheridan. “Hi, there. Grace, isn’t it?”

  Sheridan turned around to see Dr. Grace Hunter nearing their table. She looked tired and a little pale, but she forced a pretty decent smile.

  “Hi, Mackenzie,” she said.

  “I’m Sheridan,” Sheridan said with a little wave of hello.

  “Join us,” Mac said.

  “Oh, no. I’m just going to grab some coffee.”

  “Have it with us,” Mac insisted.

  “No Cavanaugh brothers allowed,” Sheridan tossed in for good measure, knowing that was why the woman was acting standoffish and weird.

  “Deacon and James are really fine actually. It’s Cole,” Grace said, taking the chair next to Mac. “He has serious problems. Not to mention boundary issues.”

  “He can act without thinking,” Mac agreed.

  Grace stared at her. “He went through my desk at my office and found out where my dad is living so he could go and question him.”
/>   Sheridan’s mouth dropped open. “No, he didn’t.”

  “Oh, yes, he did.”

  “You should have him arrested,” Sheridan said.

  “No, no, no,” Mac said quickly, holding up a small, but incredibly beautiful bouquet. “He’s in my wedding tomorrow. I need him there.” She shrugged at Grace. “The day after he’s all yours.”

  “Okay, I think we need something,” Sheridan announced. “Something to toast the bride-to-be. Stevie?” she called.

  The waitress came over. “What’ll it be, ladies?”

  “Three coffees?” Sheridan said and asked at the same time. When both Mac and Grace nodded, she added, “And something sweet. What do you have?”

  The woman put a hand on her hip. “More of that cake James had sent in from Dallas for you.”

  Heat rushed into her cheeks. Oh this was going to be fun. “We’ll take it,” Sheridan said. “Three pieces please.” When she turned to face the ladies again, Grace’s brows were a half inch higher and Mac was staring at her like she’d just announced she’d had nude photos taken of herself.

  “I’m sorry, what?” Mac said, hand to her ear. “Cake sent in from Dallas?”

  “I love Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and James knew that, and he also knew that River Black didn’t have any desserts that used—” She stopped and groaned. “Okay, it was incredibly sweet and thoughtful, and it made me want to jump him and kiss him. But then he became Mr. No Share again, and there we are.”

  “I feel as though I’ve missed something important,” Grace said with a smile as Stevie placed three coffees on the table.

  “Me too,” Sheridan said, smiling at her. “Okay.” She held up her coffee cup. “A toast. To my new bestie—”

  “Awww,” Mac said with a couple of sniffs. “Love it.”

  “May your marriage be long lasting. May you love each other always. May he open up and tell you things that are hard to say, but are important in a relationship . . .”

  The bell over the door jangled again, interrupting her. Good thing too.

  “All right,” Mac said. “I think you might be going off track.”

  “I think so too,” Sheridan said with a giggle.

  Once again, Mac looked past her to the door. But this time, instead of smiling, she turned white as the baby’s breath they’d refused to use in the bouquets, but stuck in their ponytails.

  “What’s wrong?” Sheridan asked.

  “I did what you told me to do,” Mac said, still staring. “The e-mail.”

  Sheridan turned around just in time to see a shockingly good-looking man coming their way. He was tall, lean, and had the most piercing dark blue eyes, which were accentuated by his shock of black hair.

  “Hey, Mac.”

  Tears sprang to Mac’s eyes. “Sheridan, Grace, this is my beloved long-lost friend. Who I want to punch in the face, but after I hug him senseless. Blue, this is Sheridan and Grace.”

  Blue turned those eyes on her and Grace, granting them the whitest smile since a toothpaste commercial.

  “Can I join you, ladies?” he asked. “I can help with whatever you’re doing here, but mostly I want to celebrate my girl here.” He gave Mac a wink. “Before she does too much damage to my face.”

  Twenty-three

  He had to give her credit. The two long, sanded-wood tables draped with flowers and food, candles, and wine and beer out in the pasture looked beautiful. Especially with the light from the heaters and the moon overhead. What had once been just trampled land with a few wildflowers dotted here and there had been transformed into a rustic, magical, and highly romantic scene. And everyone seemed to be having a great time.

  Everyone except James.

  Sheridan had gone ahead and sat them at two different tables. Sure, she’d been nice to him. Real cordial. But it was all formality and it sucked. James was starting to wonder if she was even planning to come home with him afterward or stay with Mac at the main house. The two of them were real buddy buddy now.

  About ten feet away, the band was warming up. The sound filled the air around them, comingling with the bustle of servers clearing away plates and silverware. The speeches were coming up. James hadn’t prepared anything, really. Was just going to go off the cuff. He glanced over at Sheridan. She was looking his way, too, no doubt thinking the same thing.

  She looked like an angel. She was wearing a pale gray dress that clung to every inch of her spectacular body. Her hair was piled on top of her head, and tiny threads had escaped and were blowing about her face. That beautiful face. She nodded at him, and James tore his gaze away and grabbed his spoon. It took only five clinks against his water glass before everyone quieted down.

  Grabbing his beer, James stood up and faced Deac and Mac, who were seated at the head of the table on a bench for two. It was strange. Something jerked through him at that moment, as he looked at his brother, and he tried to push it away.

  “Deacon, Mac,” he began. “I’m honored to be the best man. Especially over Cole here.” Everyone laughed. Even Cole. “I’m honored to watch the two of you finally get your happy ending. You deserve it.” He felt something hard in his throat and pushed it away. “This love business isn’t easy. You’ve got to work and trust and forgive. But it’s also the greatest gift there is. I’m so happy for you both.”

  Even as he sat down to the hoots and hollers and applause, the lump in his throat hadn’t gone away. Then Sheridan stood up, and he relaxed, every muscle in his body going warm and tight.

  “Mac, Deacon,” she said, her eyes pinned to the couple. “I never thought I’d be standing here toasting you, wishing you the very best in your life together. But I’m so happy and honored that I am. Deacon, don’t worry. The moment I get back to the office next week I will return to calling you Mr. Cavanaugh.”

  A few people laughed, and Deacon called out, “Not necessary, Sheridan.”

  “Mac,” Sheridan started. She touched her heart. “Thank you for asking me to stand up with you. And for being my friend. I’ve had the best time with you, getting to know you. I wish you every happiness in the world, tomorrow and all the days to come.” She raised her glass. “See you both at the altar.”

  After another round of applause, everyone raised their glasses and drank deep. The music began and the party got under way, with lots of merry conversation and dancing. But James only had eyes for Sheridan. She was over by Deac and Mac, giving them both a hug. Then she turned and looked around, spotted him, then pointed at the dance floor.

  James met her in the very center of the floor, not saying anything as he eased her into his arms and started swaying to the music. Fuck, he hated how good she felt against him. How right.

  “I think we did a fantastic job, don’t you?” she said.

  “Looks like.”

  She pulled back a touch so she could see his face. “Are you angry about something?”

  Hell, yes, he was. Angry at himself. Angry that he couldn’t have her. “Why’d you put us at two separate tables, Sheridan?”

  Her eyes shuttered. “We’re both hosts. We shouldn’t be at the same table.”

  “That’s bullshit and you know it,” he returned hotly. “You’re trying to avoid me. No. You’re trying to push me away.”

  Her expression went utterly blank for a moment. Kind of like she was in shock. But after a moment, she broke into a peal of laughter. Not the kind that comes from happiness, mind you. More along the lines of bitter-ass scorn.

  “Me pushing you away,” she repeated after she’d sobered. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  His jaw clenched. “I heard what you said in your speech. About going back to work.”

  “It has to happen sometime.”

  “Why now?”

  She glanced around and lowered her voice. “You know why now.”

  James took her hand and le
d her off the dance floor and over near the fence. “Listen to me, Sheridan. I can’t just change myself like that. It doesn’t happen in an instant.”

  “You’re right,” she agreed so calmly and coolly it scared him. “It doesn’t happen in an instant. It happens when you want it to.”

  “So, what? You leave and go back to Dallas and we never see each other again?”

  “I’m sure we’ll see each other,” she said.

  “This is bullshit,” he ground out. His head was spinning, his gut aching. He was losing this woman, and it was all his own fault.

  “These people,” she continued. “Your people, are my friends now. I want that for us too, James. I want to be your friend.”

  “I don’t want you as my fucking friend, Sheridan!” he shouted.

  The air crackled between them. Sheridan looked as if she was struggling with what to say, what to do. Then she released a heavy breath.

  “I’m going to stay at the main house tonight,” she said.

  “Sheridan, wait—”

  But she was already walking away from him. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  • • •

  Mac and Deacon’s wedding day dawned foggy and cold, but by ten a.m. the sky cleared. And by the time the crowd was assembled near the lake on Redemption Ranch, bright, yellow sun was warming the world.

  Sheridan had never seen a more beautiful bride than Mackenzie soon-to-be Cavanaugh. She’d helped her get ready that morning, and had deemed her amazing looking. But this was different. There was something magical, otherworldly about seeing her in her dress, her dark hair loose about her shoulders and flowers in her hair as she made her way up the aisle to Deacon.

  And Deacon.

  For years, her boss had been this brilliant-minded, incredible business mogul whom she admired. Now, he was her friend’s husband. Or almost. And so obviously head over heels for her that it brought on true pangs of gratefulness from Sheridan. She wanted the best for the both of them.