Claire made a soft noise and touched his arm.
“Okay?” she murmured, her eyes closed.
“Yeah. Fine.” He bent and kissed her smooth cheek and slid out of bed. “Just hungry,” he lied.
In the kitchen he stood with a bottle of water and stared at the black sky, at the barely visible stars struggling to twinkle through the light pollution of the city.
Somewhere out there was a man named Reid Singleton who believed that Tate was his brother. Who believed that Tate was named Wesley.
“And that I was kidnapped by a circus clown,” he said aloud with a hoarse chuckle. The laugh died on his lips as a vision flashed on the screen of his mind.
No, not a vision.
A memory.
A memory of a little boy with the same color eyes as him snatching a stuffed Curious George toy and throwing it into a swimming pool.
Then another vision attacked like virtual reality—he could practically feel the large, rough hands that caught him under the armpits. Smell gasoline on the fingers that had covered his mouth.
And as three-year-old Tate had been carried into the woods, he saw a blur of bright colors—a red-and-yellow inflatable where kids played in a sea of plastic blue and green balls—against a brown cottage in a lush yard.
Home.
The word hit him with such a certainty that his knees weakened. The pounding in his head dialed up to ten. He sank to his ass on Claire’s mahogany wood flooring, no longer able to find the strength to stand.
It was real.
Everything Reid had said.
“My brother,” he whispered to the dark room.
“Tate?” Claire, wrapping a short silk robe over her lithe frame, padded out into the kitchen. “Are you okay?”.
“I’m not Tate.” He smiled up at his fiancée but his mind was in a sad, distant place. “My name is Wesley,” he told her in as good a British accent as he could muster.
Twenty-Four
When Drew heard the light rap at the front door, she was next to it, having waited for her brother to arrive in the foyer rather than watch over Reid. First off, he was fine—drunk, sure, but fine. At least physically. Second, she was still pretty angry with him, and standing over him fuming wasn’t productive.
She pulled open Reid’s front door and Gage scanned her red dress and heels darkly. “Where is he?”
“Passed out on the couch.”
Gage stalked past her. In the living room, he took inventory of Reid’s position before bending over and hauling his best friend into a sitting position.
Drew stood off to the side as Gage slapped Reid’s face—not hard enough to rattle his teeth but hard enough that Reid’s eyes rolled open.
Reid threw himself forward and squeezed Gage into a hug. “Wesley.”
Gage peeled his friend off his shoulders. “Reid. Man. What is going on with you?”
“Gage?” Reid blinked a few times, his eyes damp with tears. “I thought you were my brother.”
His brother? Ho boy. She’d been right. Something was going on with him that had nothing to do with her.
“It’s our birthday.”
“I know it’s your birthday.”
“Our birthday. I stood up Drew.” Reid sent her a glare. “She won’t leave.”
Gage’s jaw tightened, and he slid a withering glare Drew’s way. Then he told his friend, “You are going to owe her a really big thank-you in the morning for putting up with your shit.” He pulled Reid up by the shoulders, wrapped one arm around him and dragged him into the bedroom.
Drew lifted her purse from the barstool in the kitchen and tiptoed toward the front door.
“Sit your ass down.” Gage bypassed her to go to the fridge and grab a bottle of water. “Give me thirty seconds.”
She wanted to tell him she didn’t owe him an explanation, but she did. They’d always been close. She confided in her brother about everything. Hell, he was the one she called when her heart was broken. Him, not a girlfriend. Gage always knew what to say to make it better, and she trusted him not to spill her secrets to anyone—especially Mom and Dad. And right now her heart was definitely broken.
She dropped her purse on the kitchen counter and sat on the barstool, her chin in her hands while she waited for Gage’s return.
He arrived a minute later and pulled two bottles of beer from Reid’s fridge. Uncapping them, he watched her with a look of disappointment—which was worse than if he’d been angry.
“Him, I’ll take to task when he’s good and hungover.” Gage took a long guzzle of beer, and she did the same. “You, I’m dealing with now.” He leaned on the counter. “What’s going on, Drew?”
“Reid and I have been...seeing each other.”
“You mean sleeping together.”
She winced. “Yeah.”
Gage shut his eyes slowly, took a deep breath, and after steeling himself, nodded. “Go on.”
She told him about California and about Reid not recognizing her.
She told him about the crush she’d had when she was younger. She told him how Reid had come to mean more to her than she’d expected. How it was her idea that they not tell Gage. Then she told him that Reid never dated Christina. How Drew planned his birthday party because Reid told her a big secret about why his birthday was such an unhappy time of year.
“Why?”
She averted her eyes. “I can’t tell you that.”
“Yes, you can.”
“I really can’t.” She picked the label on the beer bottle with her thumbnail. “It’s something you’re going to have to hear from Reid himself. I promised.”
Her brother nodded, but still didn’t seem happy about...well, any of it. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”
She nodded, and a tear spilled down her cheek.
Gage pulled her into a tight hug. “Why’d you do that?”
“I don’t know,” she sobbed. “I thought he’d want to make this last a little longer. I was going to tell him how I felt tonight.”
“Shh-shh. Listen.” He held her face in his hands and gave her a soft smile. “Try not to worry, okay? I’m going to stay here. I’ll talk to him. I’ll find out why he was such a dick to you earlier. No matter what big secret he has, Drew, you know you deserve more than what he’s offering.”
“Funny. That’s what he said to me.” She offered a watery smile. “I thought I’d change his mind. That he’d see how great we are together. How good I am for him.”
“This doesn’t have anything to do with you. If anything, you’re too good for him.” Gage kissed her forehead. “You okay to drive home?”
“Completely sober,” she said instead, because she wasn’t okay. Not even a little. But she took her brother’s advice and left. The only other option was to stay here, and she sure as hell wasn’t doing that.
* * *
At home, Drew kicked off her shoes and crawled into bed, still wearing her red dress. She was exhausted from the taxing emotions of the day. The last thing she thought about before sleep took hold were Reid’s words to Gage.
I thought you were my brother.
What was that about?
* * *
The second cup of coffee was helping. He hoped.
Reid hovered over his half-empty mug, cupping his aching head in both hands. It was like a nuclear bomb had gone off in his skull. Gage stood sentinel at the countertop, arms folded over his chest. He’d been like that all morning. He hadn’t done a damn thing to help Reid get over his hangover, either. He’d started off by coming into Reid’s room and clapping his hands together while yelling, “Time to get up!” over and over.
Reid had dragged his aching carcass into the shower and emerged feeling not much better. In his kitchen, Gage stood, mug of coffee in hand, and when Reid asked for one he poured the entire p
ot down the drain.
So much for best friends.
Reid had made another pot of coffee and poured himself a cup while Gage made himself a plate of scrambled eggs. He ate, and Reid refilled his coffee mug. And that’s when Gage decided to speak.
“Talk, Singleton. Why are you messing with Drew?”
“I’m not messing with her.”
“But you are fucking her.”
“Do you want your ass kicked?” Reid barked, adrenaline pouring through his veins like hot lava.
“That’s my line.”
He’d never seen his friend this pissed off before. Gage had every right. Reid was in the wrong pursuing Drew and hadn’t treated her well last night. He hadn’t been able to reconcile having a birthday now that he knew his brother was alive and well and in the same damn city. After a night and day of emotional upheaval was it any wonder he’d turned to whiskey for a reprieve? His thoughts had been an unsortable mess since he’d found Wesley returned from the dead, and then lost him all over again.
Reid wouldn’t have been good company at Drew’s soft opening anyhow. Yes, he should’ve contacted her, but what the hell would he have said? Sorry, too drunk to show up after finding my brother alive. He had no idea how to tell her what he’d learned...how to tell anyone.
“My life took a complicated turn last night,” Reid mumbled.
“What’s so complicated?” Gage pressed. “You can’t sort your heart from your dick? So you slept with my sister until she got in too deep and now you’re punishing her for liking you too much?”
“No. That’s not—this isn’t about Drew.” Reid palmed his head. It ached 5 percent less than when he woke up this morning, which was a crowning achievement. His pending breakdown was far more than Drew had signed up for. If she thought he’d had baggage before, it was nothing compared to the entire airport’s worth he had now.
“I’m trying to protect her,” Reid told Gage, but the excuse sounded lame even to his own ears.
Gage narrowed his eyelids. “That’s my job.”
“I...” Reid swallowed thickly, worried that Gage would think him bonkers once he told him about Tate. Worried more that Gage would write him off completely when he found out that Drew wasn’t the only secret Reid had kept from him over the years. But Reid owed him an explanation, not to save his own hide but because Gage was his oldest friend.
“I have a twin brother,” he said. “And up until two days ago I thought he was dead.” Reid told him about the birthday party that ended up being a search party and everything else leading up until now. How his parents had never handled the day well. How Reid hadn’t celebrated a birthday since.
While he spoke, Gage’s face grew pale.
“I was in Brewdog’s for coffee and, Gage, I swear as I sit here he was right behind me in line.”
“How?”
“I have no idea. I told him who he was. He didn’t believe me. He introduced himself as Tate Duncan from California. But he had a scar I recognized. He has my eyes. It was my brother, Wesley. I’d know him anywhere.” A fresh wave of pain zapped his chest. “He threw away my card. He didn’t believe me,” he repeated numbly.
“Reid... I... And now? Do you still believe that was Wesley?”
“With everything I am.” Reid shoved his coffee away, his stomach on fire. “I might be more certain than before.”
“And you didn’t tell Drew about him?”
“I told her about his death, but I didn’t tell her I saw him.” Reid blinked in shock. “That he wasn’t dead.” He blinked up at Gage. “I was processing.”
“You were processing,” Gage bit out. “Not only have you been keeping the relationship between you and Drew from me, but you’ve been keeping this secret, as well? From me, from Flynn and Sabrina? We’ve been friends for years, Reid. You could’ve told us.”
“I know.” Reid hung his pounding head.
“Drew would’ve understood.”
Reid was beginning the suspect Gage was right. But finding his brother was alive hadn’t changed who Reid was—he hadn’t suddenly become whole. In fact, he felt more broken than ever. “Drew and I were supposed to break up this month, anyway. Last night seemed apt.”
“Did you really think she would let you go after she was with you for nearly two months?”
When Gage put it that way, it made Reid feel daft. Of course she wouldn’t shrug their time off together. She was different, and with her, Reid had been different.
Gage shook his head pitiably. “Lucky for you I fell in love with someone who wasn’t honest about her identity at first, either. I have a high tolerance for understanding.”
“You thought she was a man,” Reid teased. Andy’s website hadn’t featured her photo so they’d assumed by name and reputation alone that she was a male. What a bunch of sexist bastards they’d been. “Until we laid eyes on her, we all thought that.”
Gage smiled, unable to keep a stone face when his fiancée was mentioned. He refilled his coffee mug, topping off Reid’s as well—a good sign Reid was on his way to being forgiven. “How have you not tracked this Tate guy down yet?”
“I used to search online for him once I was old enough to know what I was doing. Just in case we’d been mistaken. I researched adoption agencies, missing children reports. I finally gave up. Accepted the inevitable. That casket was empty, but Wesley may as well have been inside it. He was a ghost.”
“A ghost who has returned.” Gage raised his eyebrows. “And now you know his name and where he’s from.”
“I do.” Hope dawned, sharp and bold. He knew enough to track him down.
“We’ll call every Duncan household in California,” Gage said as he lifted his phone to his ear. “Every Tate Duncan in the Pacific Northwest.”
“Who’re you calling?”
“We need help.” Then into the phone, Gage said, “Flynn. Can you and Sabrina come to Reid’s? Yes. Now.”
Twenty-Five
It was hard to mourn Reid when she wasn’t sure they’d ever had anything to begin with. Drew wasn’t even sure they were broken up.
Reid was gone. That much she knew.
Gage had called her late on Sunday to tell her...well, not much. She knew that Reid woke with a killer hangover, that Flynn and Sabrina and Gage had spent the day together. That they all knew Reid’s secret about his twin brother going missing when Reid was three years old, and about the funeral when Reid was eight.
What she didn’t know was what had driven Reid to drown his sorrows in whiskey and treat her like she’d never mattered. She’d told Gage as much and he’d given her the best big-brother speech ever.
“It’s inexcusable the way he talked to you that night and I’m sorry,” Gage had said. “I love you so much. I’m trying to be there for him, but trust me, I’m on your side. If he doesn’t make some sort of amends with you soon, I’m not sure we’ll be friends much longer. I choose you, kiddo.”
She’d burst into tears and cried on her phone’s screen, telling Gage that she was at fault as well, and that he shouldn’t leave his best friend for her. She should’ve told Reid how she felt about him a long time ago. She’d dreamed up the plan for a perfect evening when, really, wouldn’t a simple heart-to-heart have been enough?
“He has a lot to make up for with all of us,” Gage had said, sounding as hollow as she felt.
It seemed everyone was in a holding pattern while Reid was in London. She didn’t know why he was there, but assumed he was trying to find some closure with his family. She didn’t know why this birthday in particular had been a trigger for him, but there was more to the story that she didn’t know about. Gage let on that he knew, but refused to tell her, even though she’d begged.
“I can’t, Drew. The same way you knew I had to hear from Reid, you are going to have to hear this from Reid, too. He swore all of us to secrecy, saying h
e had to sort it out for himself. We owe him that.”
“It’s that big, huh?” she’d asked, acceptance an arrow through her heart.
“Yes. It is.”
So that was that. Reid was in London and she was in Seattle and had no idea when he’d be back, why he’d gone there or if he’d ever speak to her again.
As much as it’d hurt to do it she’d deleted his phone number and text messages from her phone. She needed a clean break. Seeing that damn heart emoji in her text messages only reminded her of the worst night of her life. She needed to pull on her big-girl panties and remember who she’d become.
A woman who was building a career without the support or help of a man. Reid was no Devin Briggs, but somehow he’d managed to hurt her more than Devin, and in a much shorter span of time.
She hated Reid for that as much as she loved him in spite of it. It would be a long road, but she wasn’t going to lie around in wait for him to come to some conclusion about them. Good God, it’d taken him a decade to tell his best friends about his loss. How long would he keep her in the dark about this new turn of events?
“Hey, Drew.” She turned to find Beaux, the bartender, a bottle of white wine in hand. Fig & Truffle, the Market location, was opening tonight, and she was ready. They all were. “Do we have more chardonnay?”
“Let me check.” She walked past him, but he caught her arm gently, his blond eyebrows lowering in concern.
“You’re better off without him.” Beaux nodded resolutely, and she forced a grin. He’d been there the night of the failed birthday dinner. It wasn’t much of a leap to put Reid’s absence together with her sadness and arrive at the logical conclusion she’d been dumped.
“You’re absolutely right. I’ll check on the chardonnay.” Keys in hand, she walked to the wine cellar as the cliché Beaux offered echoed in her mind. She didn’t believe she’d be better off without Reid, but she had to believe that to make it through tonight. And the next night. And the night after that.
However long it took for her heart to heal after being torn apart.
One Night, White Lies (The Bachelor Pact Book 3) Page 14
