by Naomi Niles
“Is that a no?”
“Come on,” I said, as I rose from my seat. “Time to get to work on the addition.”
Sam followed me outside and we spent the whole day measuring out lumber and creating the framework for the walls we needed for the new addition. By the time evening rolled around, we had actually made decent progress and I was starting to feel optimistic. I took a few steps back from the new addition and cast a critical eye over our work.
“Well?” Sam asked.
“It’s looking good,” I replied. “It’s coming together nicely.”
“Sweet,” he whistled. “I think I can find a way to work this into conversation with women. They tend to favor men who are good with their hands.”
I rolled my eyes. “Is everything a pick-up line with you?”
“Umm, pretty much, yeah,” he nodded.
“So you’re never going to let any girl tie you down?”
“Are you kidding?” he replied. “I’m completely up for being tied down.”
“Really?” I asked, in surprise.
“Of course. I prefer handcuffs, but I’m open to rope too.”
“Geez,” I sighed, realizing how Sam had twisted my words around.
“Hey, speaking of kinky…look who’s coming.”
I had already heard the sound of the vehicle coming up the drive. I felt my nerves ratchet up a notch but I kept my face calm and free of expression.
“Hey,” I hissed at Sam. “Stop staring.”
He ignored me completely and watched as Madison got out of her car. She was dressed simply in blue jeans and a white t-shirt that hugged her curves and flat stomach. Her hair was loose and messy around her bed.
“Damn,” Sam said, under his breath. “She’s a fox. Are her eyes blue?”
“Green,” I replied. “Now shut up and be cool; she’s coming over.”
“Hi,” Madison greeted as she drew closer.
I straightened up immediately and walked forward, praying that Sam would be on his best behavior. “How was work?”
“Pretty good, actually,” she replied. “I got to work on two new clients today.”
“That’s great,” I smiled. “This is my brother, Sam.”
“Nice to meet you, Sam,” Madison said, extending her hand out for him to shake. Sam managed to keep the cheeky grin off his face while he shook hands cordially.
“How are you liking Fort Collins, Madison?” he asked.
“I love it so far,” she replied. “The people especially. Everyone’s so friendly and willing to help.”
“It helps that you’re a pretty girl,” Sam said, without the usual wink that accompanied one of those compliments.
Madison smiled. “Hey, I’ll take the help when I can get.”
“I wouldn’t blame you,” he replied.
Madison turned back to me and her eyes were bright, but a little hesitant. “Peter, I’m sorry about rushing out last night. I was hoping to make amends by asking if you were free for dinner tonight?”
“I’d love to,” I replied immediately.
“Sam,” Madison said. “You’re welcome to join us, too.”
“That’s nice of you,” he replied. “But I already have plans tonight. I was just about to head off before you showed up.”
“Oh, next time then,” Madison smiled, before turning back to me. “I don’t have much of a kitchen at the moment, but I can whip as up some sandwiches.”
“I insist you come over to my place for dinner,” I offered.
“You already cooked for me yesterday.”
“I love cooking,” I assured her. “Trust me, you’d be doing me a favor.”
“Well, if you insist.”
“I do,” I nodded firmly. “My place at seven-thirty?”
“Great,” Madison nodded. “I’ll see you then. Bye, Sam; it was nice meeting you.”
“Same here, Madison,” he replied as she walked off.
The moment she disappeared into her house, Sam turned to me with his mischievous grin back in place.
“Shut up,” I said, before he could say a word.
Chapter Twelve
Madison
“Okay, Polo,” I said, facing his big eyes. “I need to find something special to wear.” I turned to the messy contents of my suitcase and sighed. “That’s going to take a while.”
I had a quick shower, wrapped a towel under my arms and padded out into my still empty bedroom. I knelt down and rifled through the clothes I’d brought with me. I had brought everything I owned, which as it turned out, had been easy to do. I had a few staples, two pairs of jeans, and a few hardy t-shirts. I had some shorts for hot weather and a couple of dresses that could be dressed up or down, depending on the occasion.
“Hmm,” I said, glancing at Polo, who was sticking his nose into the contents of my suitcase. “Maybe once I start making some money, I can invest in some clothes. What do you think?”
I took Polo’s silence for agreement and patted him on the head. “What do you think about this outfit?” I asked, holding up a strapless pink dress. “Too much? Yeah, you’re probably right. Let me try this one on.”
I picked a blue, off-the-shoulder dress with a flowing skirt, but that looked a little too casual for my liking. Then I slipped on a midnight blue dress that dropped to my ankles, but that one looked too extravagant. Every time I tried on a new dress, I twirled around for Polo’s benefit.
“What do you think?” I asked. “I know, I know… I need to make some changes to my wardrobe.”
In the end, I picked a champagne-colored slip dress. I paired it with thin wedges and kept my hair loose around my shoulders. I gave my refection an appraising glance in the mirror before I turned to Polo.
“I think I look pretty decent,” I said, with a shrug.
He gave me a small bark and I took that as approval. “Awesome,” I said, as I grabbed my mobile and headed for the door with Polo at my heels.
“Hold on, buddy,” I said, bending to my knees and giving him a big hug. “I think I’m going to fly solo today. Maybe next time, okay?”
I kissed him on the nose, gave him a small treat to tide him over, and then slipped out the entrance. I walked over to Peter’s front door and knocked twice. He answered quickly, dressed in jeans and a plain black t-shirt that hugged his arms and toned chest. He looked incredibly masculine, standing there in the fading light of the setting sun. His hazel brown eyes were bright and welcoming.
“Madison,” he said. “You look beautiful.”
I suppressed the blush on my cheeks. “Thank you, so do you,” I blurted out.
He looked at me in surprise and then burst into laughter. “Thank you,” he replied, making me feel better about my own awkwardness. “Come on in. You didn’t bring Polo?”
“Not tonight,” I said, as I walked into the house.
He led me straight to the dining room this time and it was clear he had taken a lot of care setting everything up. There was a new tablecloth covering the old wood and he had already laid the table with white plates and a few candles that created a bridge in the middle.
“Wow,” I breathed. “Everything looks beautiful.”
The table was set with a few different dishes. There were roasted potatoes with thick gravy, a rack of lamb seasoned with herbs, charred eggplant dripping in a white sauce, and a salad filled with an assortment of different nuts.
“This looks amazing, Peter,” I said, as he pulled out a chair for me. “I can’t believe you did all this yourself.”
“Are you impressed?”
I smiled. “Extremely.”
He slipped into the chair adjacent to mine and poured me some wine. It was a strange feeling to have a man treat me that way. It was strange to have a man cook for me at all.
Peter was attentive and kind, and I could sense sincerity about him. But it was more than that: I felt safe with him even though he was a perfect stranger to me. Maybe it was everything I had heard about him, maybe it was just instinct, or m
aybe it was just the way he looked at me sometimes…but I felt like I could trust him. I felt safe with him. It was a new experience .
“Where’s John?” I asked. “Isn’t he joining us for dinner?”
“John’s out on work,” Peter replied. “He’s going to be back on Sunday.”
“He’s a doctor, right?”
“He is. A plastic surgeon actually, but it’s not what you think.”
“What do I think?” I asked in amusement.
“People assume he spends his time doing breast implants for a bunch of wealthy clients, but he actually likes to hand pick his cases. He looks for patients who have severe skin and facial deformities, people who have been in terrible accidents and need facial reconstructions, and he fixes them up.”
“Wow,” I said, shaking my head. “You guys are all amazing.”
“Really?” Peter seemed surprised by that. “How so?”
“How so?” I repeated. “You’re a cop, John’s a surgeon, Sam’s a firefighter, and as far as I’ve heard, you have another brother who’s an Olympic athlete.”
Peter smiled. “I have a fifth brother,” he said quietly.
“What does he do?” I asked.
“Umm…to be completely honest, I’m not sure,” he said with a smile. “Talen’s the youngest and he’s always been a little bit of a wild card.”
“I’ve known a few of those,” I nodded.
“He’s a good kid,” he spoke as though Talen were his child and not his brother. “He was just dealt a bad hand.”
“A bad hand?” I asked, not wanting to come right out and ask the question in case Peter wasn’t prepared to answer.
“Well, you already know that we lost our father eleven years ago,” Peter replied. “But before that, our mother left. Talen was young – very young – and it affected him more than he lets on. He might have been able to cope with losing one parent, but when he lost them both…”
“It was hard.”
“Very,” Peter sighed.
“How old was he when your mother left?” I asked hesitantly.
“He was five.”
“Wow.”
“Dad was a good father, but he was heartbroken after she left,” Peter explained. “He didn’t see it coming, and I think he was in denial for a long time. I think he believed he could convince her to come back.”
“Did he know where she went?”
“He thought he did,” Peter sighed again. “He even made a trip to try and find her, but he came back more disheartened than ever. After that, he changed a little.”
“Changed?”
“It wasn’t really obvious to anyone,” Peter said, his eyes were far away when he spoke. “Or maybe I was reading too much into it, but it was as though something inside him had broken. He was still there for all of us, he showed up for every event and worked harder than ever to provide us with whatever we needed.
“But he lost the brightness in his eyes. His smile became sad. He’s the reason I believe in broken hearts.”
“That’s unbelievably sad,” I said.
He nodded. “It is sad,” he nodded. “And, he deserved better.”
“How old were you when you’re mother left?” I asked.
“Close to fourteen.”
I nodded. “Have you ever thought about looking for her?”
Peter was silent for a moment. “Honestly, I used to when I was younger,” he replied at last. “But as I got older, I realized that it wasn’t worth it. Her decision to leave was a decision to end the relationship she had with us. Looking for her now might only lead to more rejection, and I’m not sure how I would handle that.”
“You’re not curious?” I asked. “About where she went and what she’s doing now?”
“I don’t think knowing where she is or what she’s doing will change anything about how I see her,” Peter replied. “She’s my mother, yes. But she’s also the woman who abandoned my brothers and me and broke my father’s heart. I don’t know if I can forgive that.”
“Do your brothers feel the same way you do?”
“I don’t know,” Peter replied. “I know that Talen thinks about her a lot, but he never talks about her if he can avoid it. I know that Sam is curious, but he doesn’t over think things. I know that Alan is happy enough in his life now that he has put her abandonment behind him. And John… John is a wild card. I think he misses her presence more than he lets on. But then, he knew her best.”
“Everyone has different ways of coping,” I said softly.
“In spite of all that, they turned out pretty great. I’m proud of all of them.”
I smiled. “You talk about them as though you’re their father,” I pointed out.
“Funny, Sam said the same thing,” Peter acknowledged. “I guess the truth is that sometimes I feel like their father. I had to step up and look after them and in some ways, that informed my mindset.”
“But John is the oldest, isn’t he?” I asked.
“John is the oldest,” Peter nodded. “But his strength is in his wisdom. Sam is the probably the most intelligent of the lot of us, but he hides it behind humor most of the time. Alan has the hardest work ethic of anyone I’ve ever met, and Talen’s strength is survival.”
“And, what would you say is your strength?” I asked, noticing that he’d left himself out.
Peter smiled as though he was embarrassed to have to think of it. “I tend to veer towards action, which in some cases has been a mistake, but I do the best I can.”
“You’re too modest.”
He shrugged. “I’m realistic.”
“It’s lovely that you’re so close to your brothers,” I said, feeling a little pang of innocent jealousy.
“You have a brother, don’t you?”
I tensed slightly and took a sip of water to hide the fact. “One older brother,” I nodded. “His name’s Victor.”
“Aren’t you close with him?”
I felt my throat constrict around the words, but I was still surprised to realize that I wanted to share with Peter. I wanted to be able to talk to someone, and I felt as though he would understand. He was a cop, but he was also a brother. Maybe he would know what I was going through?
“I thought I was,” I sighed.
“You thought you were?” he asked, with raised eyebrows.
“It’s complicated.”
“If you don’t want to talk about it, we don’t have to,” Peter said gently, looking deep into my eyes.
I felt my heart race a little faster, but at the same time I was engulfed in a strange sense of comfort. “No,” I said. “I want to tell you.”
Chapter Thirteen
Peter
It had started to rain a little. I could hear the far away sound of heavier rain from miles away. I suspected that it would pour soon.
I glanced at Madison. She was looking down at her plate, moving food around without actually touching it. I wanted her to open up to me, but I wanted her to do it in her own time.
She looked like a painting sometimes. It was in the way she rested her chin on one palm, the way she tilted her head to the side when she smiled, the way her smile brought out the color in her green eyes.
She wasn’t wearing a braid today. Her dark-brown hair hung loose around her bare shoulders, tickling the tops of her prominent collarbones. She looked fragile, but I could sense the strength resting just beneath the surface. I wondered if she was even aware of it herself.
She sipped some water from her glass and looked over at me. “My brother is twenty-eight,” she began. “He’s three years older than me. When we were growing up, that age difference seemed mammoth. He was all I had, and I was all he had. My father left us when I was only a baby, and my mother…she was a mess.”
I waited patiently while Madison caught her breath. “Half the time, she was either stoned or drunk. She would stumble home in the middle of the night after one of her benders, and then she would throw up in a corner and fall asleep on the floor. Victo
r and I used to take turns to clean her up and wash away the vomit.”
I felt my muscles tense as she continued her story, but I didn’t want to interrupt her by reaching out for her hand or asking a question.
“We watched her ruin her life,” Madison continued softly. “We both saw the same things, but it affected us differently. I saw her choices and I made a vow to myself that I would never make the same mistakes that she had made.
“But Victor… Victor was different. He fell into a bad crowd early on, and I suppose a part of him was always predisposed towards drugs and alcohol. To be honest, I had hoped it was just a phase. But then he started dealing.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Were you still living with him?”
“Yes,” Madison nodded. “I confronted him one day after I found his stash hidden under his bed. But not before I had flushed the whole lot down the drain.”
“You flushed it all?” I asked, impressed.
“Yes,” she sighed. “It was the first real fight we’d ever had with each other. He screamed and ranted and punched walls…and I just stood there trying not to cry.”
“What happened after that?”
“I moved out,” she replied. “I was a few months away from my eighteenth birthday and knew that I needed to get far away from our neighborhood and the crowd that my brother hung around with.
“So I collected all my savings, packed my bags and headed for the cheapest town I could manage. I got a shitty job and an even shitter apartment, but I was happy. I was on my own and I felt…relieved.
“After a few months, Victor came to see me. He apologized, and we made amends. I knew he was still dealing, but I also knew that I couldn’t stop him. We lived our separate lives, but we always maintained our relationship. I think we were both scared to lose one another.
“And then one day… I got a call,” Madison said and I noticed a shiver run down her body. “Victor had overdosed.”
“No,” I breathed.
“He managed to pull through,” she continued. “But he had been on shaky ground there for a while. After that, though… I couldn’t go back to my life. I moved back into the neighborhood and I moved back in with Victor.”
“Why?” I asked.
