by Maisey Yates
Her ultimate conclusion as she stepped into the shower was that she was very glad she had worn the yellow dress. No matter what happened next.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ALEX FIGURED IF he couldn’t sleep he might as well drink.
He had a feeling that if he slept tonight, all he would have were visions of his friend’s death. And if not that, then they would be visions of Clara’s naked body. Right now, he couldn’t quite figure out which would be worse.
If he was really lucky, both of those things would intertwine. It would be fitting, anyway. Considering that they were inextricably linked in many ways. He was in Clara’s life because of Jason. Because of Jason’s death. That was why she didn’t have anybody. That was why she needed someone to take care of her for God’s sake.
He stumbled into the kitchen, wandered over to the bar and began digging through the liquor supply to see if there was anything that looked like it might disrupt his brain enough that he could get some peace and quiet.
His body still ached. With desire for her. Desire he had no right to feel.
He was the worst kind of asshole.
But with any luck, soon he would be the worst kind of drunk asshole. Which wouldn’t improve his status or the state of the world, but it would sure as hell make him feel better in the moment.
He poured himself a generous measure of Irish whiskey, and lifted the glass to his lips.
“Having a nightcap by yourself?” He turned and saw his brother Finn standing in the doorway, his arms crossed, his expression weighted with that kind of knowing, judgmental older-brother thing.
“No, I’m getting shit-faced by myself.”
He knocked the glass back, welcoming the burn as it slid down his throat.
“Any particular reason?” Finn asked, walking deeper into the room and making his way over to where Alex was standing.
“Life?”
“Fair enough,” Finn responded, taking hold of the bottle and pouring himself about half the amount that Alex had taken. “Though, you’re not alone anymore.”
He had a feeling his brother didn’t just mean now, in the immediate moment. But Alex didn’t want to acknowledge that.
“How is the work going around here? I know I’ve been kind of...absent lately.”
“You’ve got your own stuff. Nobody blames you for that.”
“Maybe you should,” Alex said, not bothering to dull the edge in his voice. “You don’t know the circumstances behind everything.”
“No,” Finn agreed. “I don’t know much about your life, Alex. When you all first showed up, I thought Cain was a hard bastard to read. And he is, in some ways. But that’s the thing. He’s a hard bastard, and he isn’t quiet about letting everybody know when he has a grievance. You and Liam, well, you seem easy. That’s the funny thing about you. You seem happy. All the time. No matter what. And it’s bull. I’ve come to that conclusion. Came to it quite a while ago. But I haven’t yet figured out what the hell else is beneath it. You haven’t shown me a damn thing. This is the first time I’ve seen you even close to breaking.”
“Well, glad to share my moment of vulnerability. Does that make you feel like a big man? Like the kind of brother you’ve been dying to be?”
“Would it be a problem for you if I said yes? Would it bother you if I actually wanted to have a real relationship with the real you, and not just that ridiculous front that you try to pass off as reality?”
This was the second time in as many days that one of his brothers had tried to dig deeper with him. It was a funny thing because Alex thought he’d done a pretty good job of convincing everybody there was nothing deeper.
Half the time, he did a pretty damn good job of convincing himself.
Apparently, though, he wasn’t as good at lying to his brothers as he had imagined.
“What is it you want to hear from me, Finn? That Liam and I had a hard life? We did. But we had Dad, so it seems kind of stupid to complain.”
“Just because you had him doesn’t mean you don’t have issues because of him. I’m not under any illusion that my life would have been better if the old man had been around, Alex. I’m not envious of you. I’m not envious of Liam.”
Alex shook his head. “Dad’s a prick. If you were wondering.”
“I wasn’t. But it’s always good to have assumptions confirmed.”
“She was obsessed with the idea of keeping him,” he said, thinking about his mother then, which he tried to do as little as possible. “She knew about all of you. Knew about women who had been left behind. She didn’t want to be one of them. I’m pretty sure she poked a hole in some condoms to make me. To make sure that she could hold on to him after Liam was born, because she figured that maybe having another of his spawn would make him want to stay. I don’t know why she thought two kids would do it when one had never been sufficient before. But the fact of the matter is he did stay for a while. We had him for quite a while, even though I’d say he wasn’t much of a dad. It was more a performance art piece between the two of them. Dramatic fighting. A lot of cheating. I wouldn’t be surprised if we had more siblings out there somewhere around the same age. Younger. Because Dad never was very good with birth control. He was never very good with control in general.”
“Sounds like hell,” Finn said.
He thought about the worst moment spent in that particular hell. Of the day when he’d been fourteen and nothing more than a punk-ass kid trying out getting in trouble to see what kind of attention he could get. Pushing too far. Far enough that he drove his father away. Far enough that his mother had finally openly turned on him.
Told him she wished he’d never been born.
And he wished he’d taken Liam’s advice then. To just smile through it instead of messing it all up.
“It was,” he said, his voice rough. “We didn’t matter. We never did. Not to either of them. But the thing about that is you learn real quick not to depend on anybody. You learn real quick to depend on yourself. To make a life that is all about you. You have to make it count for yourself, or what’s the point? I never tried to prove anything to either of them. Not to Mom. Not to Dad. Liam was the same. We went out and we made our own way. I don’t regret it. I don’t regret any of it. Yeah, I learned really early to just let it slide. Liam is not the same. I don’t really know what goes on in his head, any more than you know what’s going on in mine. Growing up with him didn’t make it so that we confided in each other. Mainly, we just got in trouble together.”
“You’re closer to him. Whatever you might think.”
“Maybe. But I don’t know what he’s been doing with his life. I don’t know anything about what happened with Sabrina Leighton. I just know it has something to do with why he’s here. I know that no matter how much he pretends he doesn’t care about stuff, he does.”
“And is it the same with you?”
“I care about some things. I care about doing the right thing. Which is what I’m trying to do with Clara.”
He shouldn’t have said that. He definitely shouldn’t have said it the way that he had. Because using her name, not just calling her Jason’s sister but referring to her so personally, was a tell, and he knew it.
“What exactly is doing the right thing by her?” Finn asked. Suspicious bastard.
But hell, they were drinking, and it was dark in the kitchen and no one else was there. So it seemed like as good a time as any to have some honesty. They had already started. Why not finish it? “Helping her dig out of the hole that she’s in. Because grief makes it hard to function, and she hasn’t been functioning that well. Her cell phone service was turned off.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah. Exactly. And her brother wrote me a letter. He left me a letter with his last will and testament, Finn. He asked me to make sure she was taken care
of. I’ve never taken care of a damn thing in my life. Not even a pet.”
He slammed his glass down on the bar, the violent motion somewhat satisfying. “I move a lot. I travel light. No connections. But Jason asked me...he asked.”
“So you have to,” Finn said, his tone grave.
Good. He understood. He got it. Alex picked his glass back up and took another sip. “I avoided doing it. I avoided doing it for a long time. And I had excuses. Because hell, I had to deal with things here. Grandpa was dead. I couldn’t take her grief on board when I had all this Donnelly grief to work through. Plus, Jason was my friend. I felt that loss too.”
“Right,” Finn said, clearly not buying that the story ended there.
“I need to help her become self-sufficient. Not just financially, though I want that for her. But I need to help her move past this. The grief. The pain that she’s in. And somehow, I need to not screw her.”
Finn had the decency to at least pretend to look surprised by that statement. His older brother cleared his throat. “Right. So, that’s a problem?”
“It’s a damn struggle,” Alex said, knocking back the rest of his whiskey and pouring himself another. “She’s a virgin.”
This time, Finn choked. “Um. Okay.”
“What kind of guy do you suppose ought to sleep with a virgin?”
Finn snorted. “Not you.”
“Not me. Damn straight.”
“But you want to.”
“If I wasn’t here getting drunk I would probably be driving over to her place right now. That’s why I’m getting drunk. To keep myself from driving.”
“Okay,” Finn said again, maddeningly measured.
What the hell were older brothers for if not to freak out and punch you and act like all your inclinations were stupid and unreasonable?
Finn wasn’t doing any of that.
“It’s a damn mess,” Alex continued. “I’m supposed to protect her. I’m supposed to take care of her.”
Finn took a slow, measured sip of his whiskey. “Some people might argue that good sex is part of being well taken care of.”
Alex frowned. “Is that a point you would argue if it was your younger sister in question?”
Finn put his hands up. “Oh, hell no.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“But she’s not my sister. And she sure as hell isn’t yours.”
“Jason was my best friend. Jason got himself killed saving me. I owe him my life. I can’t give that to him. But you know, the least I can do is keep my dick in my pants.”
Finn lifted a shoulder. “Sure. You could argue that. You could argue that all day long. But here’s the thing. Jason is dead. Clara is not.” Finn tapped the side of his glass with his finger. “Does she want you?”
“She’s a virgin,” he said, emphasizing the word yet again. “And I’m not. I’m good at what I do. I could have her begging for it, but that doesn’t make it right. It doesn’t mean she actually knows what she’s been asking for. Because, at the end of the day, sex is all I have to give her. We could have some fun. But that would be it.”
“I’d think a woman in her position might want a little fun.”
“What the hell, Finn? I did not hire you to play the part of shoulder devil. You’re supposed to be older and more mature. And tell me to quit thinking with little Alex.”
Finn pulled a face. “Don’t you think that should be up to her? You think you’re going to make all of her decisions? And you’re going to make them based off what her dead brother would’ve wanted? That’s not fair. She’s a woman, and she’s her own woman. You’re not her keeper. I know you have this warped idea that you’re here to take care of her, but you’re not her father.”
Alex blanched. “I know that. I’m not auditioning for the role. But I am trying to be the kind of protector that Jason expected me to be and not a damn sex pervert.”
His brother laughed at him. Laughed, dammit. Then he lifted his glass and took another sip. “I guess that’s admirable in some ways. But insulting. If she wants you, and you’re throwing up all of these excuses because of what someone else wanted for her...that’s not respecting her. Not really. You can tell yourself whatever you want, but it’s not.”
“You know, I counted on you to tell me that I need to keep my zipper zipped. She’s too young for me. More because of her lack of experience than her age. She’s never been with a man. You think she should be with me?”
“Don’t get me wrong, it’s probably a terrible idea. But it’s not about what I think. You really want to help her, you really want her to be self-sufficient, you want her to be able to move on with her life? Treat her like an adult. If she tells you no, then back your ass off. But if she wants you, treat her like a woman and not a child.” Finn shrugged. “That’s all I’m saying.”
“And you’re such an expert on this kind of thing?”
“I’m an expert on what happens when you spend too many years trying to protect a woman from yourself. You miss out on a lot when you assume you know what’s best. Pro tip—you probably don’t.”
Fine for Finn to talk about that. When Alex and the rest of them had first shown up at the Laughing Irish, it had put Finn under a lot of stress, and his best friend, Lane, had been on hand to help him deal with his rage. But all the change, and the tension, had affected the relationship. Though ultimately it had been in a good way.
He appreciated Finn’s intentions, kind of, but the relationship Finn had with Lane had nothing to do with what Alex was supposed to feel for Clara, or what was appropriate.
“Don’t start using Lane as an example here,” Alex said. “It’s irrelevant. Whatever might happen between Clara and me, it’s not going to end in happily ever after.”
Finn lifted a brow. “You sure about that?”
“I told you, I had to make my own way very early on. I had to figure out who I was, and what I wanted, and what I am is not a man who wants marriage and kids and all that. Not even close. I watched our parents fight it out. Let me tell you, they call it a nuclear family because when it blows up that fallout leaves damage that lasts for years.”
“Whatever. I’m not going to tell you what to do. But if you were looking for somebody to reinforce your self-flagellation it isn’t going to be me.”
“Asshole.” Alex drained his glass. “What good are you?”
“Better than you might think.” Finn clapped him on the back. “Now, I’m going to bed. Because I have a woman in said bed, and I’m going to get laid.”
“Asshole,” Alex repeated.
Finn grinned and walked out of the room.
Leaving Alex alone with the alcohol. Leaving Alex alone with all those justifications that Finn had just handed to him.
Alex didn’t want to think. He wanted to drink. Unfortunately, he had the means to do just that. He had spent his whole life without Finn around, without most of his brothers. He was hardly going to change course now just because Finn had advised him to.
Nope. Not gonna happen.
He poured himself another drink.
CHAPTER TWELVE
HANGOVERS WERE A BITCH. Alex sat up, pressing the heel of his hand against his eyeballs. He hadn’t managed to get up in time for any of his jobs. He didn’t have to look at the clock to know that. The sun was filtering through his window, too bright, too harsh, like an ice pick straight to the forehead.
He had come too far to fall apart now. But that’s exactly what he was doing. Letting Clara down. Letting his brothers down. He should have been up early doing work at one of the two ranches and here he was, in bed.
He ignored the pounding in his head and swung his legs over the side of the mattress, standing up quickly, fighting the intense dizzy spell that swept over him as he did.
It had been a lo
ng damn time since he’d had that much drink. Well, it had been since Jason’s funeral. And since then, he’d been too busy. Since then, he’d been focused.
That focus was long gone now.
His head continued to pound, so hard that it took him a moment to realize that there was an actual pounding coming from outside of his skull tube. It was the front door. He cursed, putting on a pair of pants, not bothering with a shirt, heading out of his bedroom and taking the stairs two at a time, then striding through the large common area of the house to the front door.
He was having a full-on Dracula moment. Sun was shining through the large floor-to-ceiling windows with unseasonable brightness, threatening to unman him completely. Apparently whiskey transformed him into a creature of the night.
“I’m coming,” he growled in response to the persistent pounding.
He swung it open, and his gut tightened, his cock instantly going hard.
And just like that, all the whiskey and the ensuing hangover were for nothing. He might have forgotten for a few hours, but he remembered now.
Dammit, did he remember.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, gazing down at Clara as he leaned against the door frame.
She was all big eyes and determination, her chin set at a stubborn angle, her lower lip sucked between her teeth. “I’m here to talk to you, jackass,” she said.
“So talk,” he said, folding his arms over his chest.
Gone was the gorgeous yellow dress from last night, replaced with a simple dark shirt and black pants—something of a work uniform he imagined. And it would have been great if the lack of pretty summer dress and exposed legs did something to dampen his desire for her.
It didn’t.
He was reluctant to let her in. He was reluctant to let her too close.
But he was ready. Ready for her lecture. For her virginal outrage. She would yell at him for kissing her since she wasn’t into him like that—for touching her at all, knowing what he did about Jason.
