Secrets, Lies & Imperfections

by Pamela L. Todd

  In the end, I substituted a huge couch for a bed and sank into the soft cushions. Sleep. Sleep was good now.

  * * * *

  Something poked me. Not hard, just enough to stir me out of sleep.

  Asshole.

  “Wake up, you mook. It was me working all night, remember?”

  The voice was not familiar and seemed mildly amused. It belonged to a female, and didn’t sound pissed off, so chances were I hadn’t gotten laid and was so drunk I’d forgotten about it. So someone was waking me up for no good reason.

  I groaned and threw an arm over my face.

  Fiercely bright light flooded my senses, piercing my eyes like fucking needles, even with them shut. Groaning again, I tried to move my head away. Nope. Felt like it was made of cotton wool and weighed a goddamn ton.

  With Herculean effort, I managed to push up onto one elbow. Squinting at the girl who woke me, I blinked against the bright light. When my vision cleared, I could take her in better—especially those fucking amazing legs she showed off oh-so-nicely while only wearing an oversized T-shirt.

  Her eyes widened and she took a step back. “Who the hell are you?”

  Was this chick for real? She hooks up with my brother and acts as if this were her place? I dropped my head, mostly in an attempt to stop the room from spinning.

  “What?” she asked, sounding annoyed now, a frown creasing her forehead.

  I grinned. “Nothing—just with the light behind you, it’s making that T-shirt pretty damn see-through.” Not true. But the reaction was priceless.

  She gasped and covered her chest with her arms.

  “No, hey,” I said, holding up a hand. “I don’t mind, really. Stay there as long as you want. And just so you know, I’m not a fan of underwear either.”

  The girl huffed and moved away from the window. Shame. I really was enjoying the view, even if it wasn’t as detailed as I’d led her to believe. I sat up and the whole world tilted. I grasped my head in my hands.

  A beer would be good. I was still a little drunk and a beer would top up what was left enough to stave off the hangover. Forcing myself to stand and making a concentrated effort to walk in straight line, I headed for the kitchen.

  “Uh, hello?” the girl called, following behind me with a huge dog in tow. “You’ve got two seconds to tell me what you’re doing in my house before I call the cops!”

  Oh, fuck. This had to be Blake’s house. Or was I really so drunk I’d inadvertently broken into a stranger’s house? And guessed their alarm code? That was like Rain Man shit or something. Standing in front of the refrigerator, I saw a dentist appointment card with Blake’s name on it. Thank Christ.

  I looked at her over my shoulder before opening the refrigerator and grabbing a beer. “Your house? And here I thought it belonged to someone else.” I swallowed half the beer before the smell could hit me and I threw up.

  But maybe I should sit back down. Just in case.

  “Are you in the wrong house?” she asked, trailing behind me once again as I collapsed on the couch.

  I snorted a laugh. “Honey, I’m not that drunk.” Right? Or was I still? Nah, last night I would have married George Foreman if he’d worn a glitter bikini. “Maybe last night, definitely not this morning. Give me time, though.”

  She turned at the sound of the front door opening. “Blake, call the cops. We’ve got an intruder.” She shot me a look. “And he’s drinking my beer.”

  I grinned and offered her the bottle. “Want some?”

  My brother came up behind her, and on seeing his delightful sibling sprawled out on his couch, he sighed.

  “Well?” the girl asked. “Aren’t you going to call them?”

  “It’s tempting,” Blake mumbled. “Believe me.”

  Guess my reception wouldn’t be as well-received as I’d hoped. I had the feeling I was in for some major ass-kissing. “Hey, Blake. It’s been awhile.”

  Blake’s face didn’t soften. “Yeah, Seth. Two years.”

  My lips twitched. “Ah, who’s counting?”

  “Someone feel like cluing me in?” the girl asked, looking between Blake and me.

  Blake looked at her and his expression did soften. Ahh…so this must be the New York piece of ass he stole off his friend. Not that Theo didn’t deserve it. I’d only met the dick twice and both times he’d made me want to shit in his cornflakes.

  What the hell was her name again? Marcie? Mandy?

  “This is my brother.”

  Her eyebrows pinched together. “Brother? You never told me you had a brother.”

  Okay, that stung more than I’d like. “That’s cold, man,” I said, smiling at Blake. He didn’t return it. Well, if he was already pissed off, no reason I couldn’t have a little fun. I swung my gaze around to the girl. “So, what escort service are you with?”

  She gasped. “Excuse me?”

  I grinned. “You said before you’d been working all night. If the other girls are anything like you, I might have to become a special customer.”

  Before I could see it coming, Blake smacked me upside the head. “Watch your tongue.”

  “I’m not a goddamn escort,” she said through her teeth, looking as if she’d love nothing more than to rip my smart-ass tongue out of my mouth.

  “My apologies,” I said as sincerely as I could muster. “What are you, like, a naked maid, then?”

  Blake sighed, a tired-sounding noise. He’d been listening to me torment people for as long as I could remember.

  “Oh, you little—” she said, her lips curling in disdain.

  My grin widened. She was making it too easy for me now. I sat up and cocked my head, raking my eyes down her, slowly, so neither she nor Blake would miss it. “Honey, if you really knew me, you’d know that is one adjective not associated with me—any part of me.”

  She glared at me before shifting to face Blake, probably waiting for him to jump in. She’d be waiting awhile. Blake never lost his shit. If my talent was pissing people off, his was pissing me off by not getting pissed off. “Can you believe the nerve of this jerk?”

  I lumbered to my feet. “Hey, you won’t be calling me that soon enough. Most women usually warm to me.”

  The look she gave me would have shriveled a lesser man’s balls. “I somehow doubt that.”

  Finally, Big Brother piped up, “Marley, why don’t you go get dressed. It’s hard for the idiot to concentrate at the best of times, let alone when you look like that.”

  Marley! That was it.

  “It’s just a T-shirt,” she mumbled.

  “But a very, very nice T-shirt,” I drawled. “At least it was in front of the window.”

  Marley groaned again but turned to leave. Which gave me a perfect last shot. But no sooner had I spanked that ass did Blake grab me by the shirt and slam my back into the wall.

  Wow. Okay.

  “You will keep your goddamn hands off her, do you understand?” Blake growled, his eyes boring into mine with a fierceness I’d never seen before.

  I wouldn’t have put it past Blake to knock my teeth down my throat at this point. And yet, I couldn’t stop. I gave him a cocky grin. “Who is this chick, man? You seem a little overprotective for just a maid.” I looked over Blake’s shoulder to Marley and smiled. “Oooh…is this her? The chick you stole from your BFF?”

  Blake made a strangled noise in his throat and I chuckled, totally out of nerves, not bravado.

  My cheeky smile was going to take a hit and be out of commission for a very, very, very long time. “Dude, would you relax? And you mind laying off the shirt? Despite its appearance, this actually cost more than the rent for a small studio apartment.”

  At this, Blake mellowed. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, my smile genuine and totally fucking relieved. “Why doesn’t it?”

  Chapter Three

  Listening to common sense for once, I kept quiet as Blake brewed a pot of coffee. I leaned against the island
and held my head in my hands. Now that all the excitement was over, my hangover waited to pounce imminently. And I had a feeling it was going to be a bitch.

  Blake moved around the kitchen, seemingly at ease, as if every day he woke up to find his poor excuse of a brother had broken into his house. But the tension in his shoulders gave away any false ease he tried to show.

  He slid a mug across the island to me and I almost didn’t catch it. I lifted my eyes from the almost-disaster and threw him a sheepish smile—which he did not return. “Come on. We’ll sit out on the deck. I think you need the fresh air.”

  I followed Blake back outside and took a seat opposite him at the table. Looking around, I saw his backyard was actually pretty cool—pool, hot tub, huge lawn, nice deck, grill area. I could totally rock this. It was a credit to how drunk I must have been not to notice when I was breaking in.

  “When did you get back?” Blake asked, sipping his mug of coffee.

  “Yesterday.” I wrapped my hands around the warm mug. “This place is pretty nice, Blake. Congrats.”

  “Yeah, it’s weird the things you’re capable of when you apply yourself,” he said, stony-faced as always.

  “I doubt I’m applied enough to build a fort,” I said with a grin.

  It still didn’t crack his godforsaken expression. “Some things never change then, huh?”

  I huffed out a breath. “Christ, Blake, I’m trying to joke around with you. What’s up your ass?”

  Blake shook his head and laughed, though he didn’t exactly sound in the laughing mood. “Strangely, I don’t like to start my days finding my little brother has snuck into my house and offended Marley.”

  I leaned back in my chair and studied my older brother. I once looked up to him more than anyone else. He’d always seemed so…strong, together. Sure. But now his forehead was marred with frown lines, his shoulders were hunched and it didn’t look as if he’d actually truly smiled for a while. It may be a long shot, but maybe his anger was simply misplaced.

  “What’s going on with you?” I asked, lacing my fingers behind my head.

  Blake glanced at me and blew out a breath. “You’re wasting your talents sleeping around with no ambition. We all said you should be a psychologist with the way you see through people.”

  I snorted a laugh. “That’s not a talent. That’s just laziness. Cut out the bullshit and just look. It isn’t hard. Are you going to answer the questions?”

  He snuck a look at the kitchen door. “We aren’t getting along.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “Who? You and Marley? Last time I spoke to Mom she couldn’t stop talking about how happy you both were.”

  Blake scrubbed a hand over his short hair. “Yeah, were. Some old history has come back to bite me in the ass. She isn’t taking it well.”

  “What sort of history? An ex?”

  “No, not really. Well, sort of. Hers. Theo. He… His wife is pregnant and he’s accusing me of being the father.” Blake’s voice went gravelly and I had to wonder just how long he’d waited to talk to someone about this. Knowing Blake, a while—a long, long while. Poor, suffering bastard.

  “Are you?”

  “No. There’s no doubt in my mind. I am not the fucking father,” Blake spat, narrowing his eyes at me.

  I held up my hands and smiled. “Just asking the obvious question. But you did nail her, right?”

  Blake looked at the kitchen door again.

  “Ah, so that’s the problem. You haven’t told the new girl about the old girl. She hasn’t asked if you did it yet?”

  He shook his head. “It’s so fucked up, Seth. I keep telling her I’m not the father. And I think she’s hearing I didn’t sleep with her.”

  “But you did. Was it when you were with Marley?” I asked, finally gaining the courage to sip my coffee.

  Blake shot me a killer look. “No, it wasn’t, you asshole. It was before.”

  “Why not just tell her?”

  He blew out a breath. “I don’t think she could handle it.”

  “Meaning you don’t think she’d forgive you.” I laughed, sorry for my unfortunate brother. “What a shitstorm, man. This is exactly why I don’t do girlfriends.”

  Blake rolled his eyes.

  The dog that had been asleep at his feet jumped up and trotted toward the kitchen door. A moment later Marley appeared, barefoot and clad in denim cut-offs and a band T-shirt. She looked fresh, natural. A cool girl. So very different from the stuck-up snobs I remembered Blake dating.

  She glanced between us, a hint of unease rippling across her face. “Is there coffee?” she asked Blake.

  “Yeah,” Blake answered. “I brought a mug out for you.”

  She poured herself some coffee from the pot in the middle of the table. Marley looked between us again and she gave me an approving smile when she saw a mug and not a beer bottle in front of me. “You guys must have a lot to catch up on. I’ll get out of your hair.”

  “No, sit,” Blake said, his smile strained. I couldn’t tell if it was because he expected me to blow his secret or if it was the tension now so obvious between the couple.

  “Yeah, sit. I’ve got to get to know my future sister-in-law, after all,” I said, hoping my smile was genuine and not flirty, like it usually was.

  Marley rolled her eyes and Blake smirked at the action. We all sipped our coffee, the silence settling around us like an uncomfortable blanket. Marley looked between us again and must have realized Blake and I could play this game as long needed.

  “So. How come I haven’t met you?” she asked.

  Blake answered for me, “He’s been bumming around Europe, forgot all about his family back home.”

  I snorted. “I wanted to take a gap year after graduation. You know, have a little fun before real life starts after.”

  Blake gave me a pointed look. “Only a gap year usually means a gap year—not two.”

  My smile widened. “Technicality.”

  “Where did you graduate from?” Marley asked, maybe trying to smooth over what could potentially be another argument. Little did she know, everything about us was a potential argument.

  “UNLV,” I answered. I watched her face, waiting for the flicker of surprise. And, there it was. Blake went to prep school then went Ivy League for college. It was still something my mother was embarrassed about that I chose a more laid-back college for my higher education.

  Blake sighed and I winked at him.

  “Where did you go in Europe?” she asked.

  “All over, really.” I leaned forward, rubbing my hands together. “I crashed in a friend’s flat in London for a few months, sailed around the south of France. Most recently I ran a bar in a tourist resort in Spain.”

  Marley nodded, looking impressed. “Sounds amazing.”

  “It does,” Blake said, his forehead creasing. “Which begs the question—why come back now?”

  “Oh come on!” I cried, pretending my feelings were hurt. “You really think I’d miss my big brother’s wedding?”

  “Dad cut you off?” he guessed.

  I grinned. “Little bit.”

  Blake’s lips twitched. I was so close to breaking him. “What did he say?”

  “He told me he wasn’t bankrolling, and this is a direct quote, my excuse to fornicate around Europe. Said I should get my ass back to Vegas to ‘discuss my future’.”

  He shook his head. “Typical. The one thing that tempts you back would be money.”

  I frowned. “You know I don’t give a shit about that stuff, man.”

  Blake raised his eyebrows, his tone disbelieving. “Funny, you didn’t seem to mind it keeping you comfortable these last few years.”

  What the hell would he know? It was him who worked for Dad for years, earning a nice fat paycheck that paid for this house. Yeah, Dad topped off my bank account regularly, but I only touched it when I needed to move on somewhere for airfare or whatever. Otherwise I lived on what I earned. “Yeah, comfortable. I couldn’t give a rat’s
ass if it’s ever more than comfortable.”

  The look on Blake’s face was a little more than doubtful.

  “Still,” Marley said, cutting in, “your mom and dad must be stoked having you home.”

  Blake sat up when I didn’t answer. “Tell me they know you’re home.”

  “Uh, not so much,” I admitted. “But it’s only been one night. Not like it’s been weeks—or whatever.”

  Blake groaned. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

  “Hey, come on!” I exclaimed, even my patience reaching its limit. “You know as well as I do what’s waiting for me at Dad’s McMansion—a freaking desk job in one of the hotels and probably a curfew.”

  Blake smiled. “Maybe you need a curfew.”

  “I’m twenty-four years old, man!” I said, laughing.

  “You say it like it means anything. You’ll still need a curfew when you’re thirty. You have to go to Dad’s.”

  So much for brotherly camaraderie. “That’s bullshit and you know it.” I leaned back in my chair. “I have no interest in becoming Dad’s little lackey—or his protégé like you.”

  “Hey, I don’t even work for Dad anymore,” Blake said, defending himself.

  “You did for long enough. Look, I told Mom and Dad I had no interest in following in his footsteps and getting into the hotel biz.” And I would fight to stop it happening with every breath I had. Whenever I slipped, when Mom would lay on the heir guilt trip, I imagined myself in Blake’s shoes. It was an iron vise around my throat. I was damned if I knew what I wanted out of life, but it sure as hell was not becoming the next Anthony Hamilton.

  “So what do you have an interest in?” Blake asked, tilting his head to examine me, knowing I didn’t have a goddamn clue how to answer that question.

  I shrugged. “I just know it’s not that.”

  “Then why take the business classes in college?”

  I snorted a laugh. “You know that was the only reason Dad let me go to UNLV rather than be like you and go Ivy. If I minored in business, I could major in whatever I wanted.”