Small-Town Redemption (17 page)

But if he moved back to Houston, and Estelle really did end up living with him, he wouldn’t be taking her away from everything she’d ever known. She could, for the first time in her life, be close to both her parents, see them every day if she wanted.

He wasn’t sure he could do it, though. Not even for her.

“I’m good where I’m at. I’m no man’s lapdog.” He sent C.J. a pointed look. “Besides, it seems as if that position has already been filled. You may want to live your life in dear old Dad’s back pocket, but some of us—or should I say, one of us—has too much pride to be in that position.”

C.J.’s gaze narrowed, his shoulders stiffened, and for a moment, Kane thought his brother would take a swing.

But it wasn’t going to happen. He could see C.J. fight for control, gain that control degree by degree, the aggression leaving his stance, his fingers loosening on his glass.

Too bad.

“That what you call it?” C.J. asked quietly, a smirk on his face, reminding him of their father. “Pride?”

Kane lifted a chair by its leg, using the momentum to turn it before setting it on a table. He wished he had the use of both hands so he could slam the damn thing down like he wanted. Gave a stiff nod. “You should try it.”

“I think I’ve got pride covered. Pride is doing what’s right by your family instead of running off like some goddamn twelve-year-old.”

“Leaving isn’t the same as running away,” Kane pointed out, though he’d done his fair share of running as a kid.

He’d always been found. Always been brought back.

C.J. laughed harshly. “Christ, but you’re an arrogant son of a bitch, you know that? Guess you can’t run from genetics.”

Because their old man was the same way.

“I’m nothing like him,” Kane said, knowing it was true. It had to be. He didn’t destroy everything and everyone he touched. He was careful of those in his life, kept his distance from everyone else, didn’t take the chance on ruining anyone.

“You keep telling yourself that,” C.J. said. He downed the rest of his drink, slammed the glass on the counter. “When we both know the truth. You think you’re, what? Settled here? That you belong in this Podunk town at this crappy bar?”

“It being a crappy bar didn’t stop you from helping yourself to my liquor.”

C.J. shook his head sadly, as if he felt bad for Kane being so damned dim-witted. Kane considered putting the next chair upside his brother’s smug head.

“You don’t belong here,” C.J. told him as he came out from behind the bar. “You never will. People like you, like us, there’s only one place we belong, and that’s Houston. You can’t change who you are inside, what you came from.”

“Yeah? Watch me.”

“I know you,” C.J. said softly. “This place, these people, they’ll soon be a distant memory. You don’t stick with anything, never have. You’ve always run from your responsibilities. You walk away, leaving others to deal with the fallout, to clean up your messes. You’ve got this bar, but I bet the responsibility of it is weighing on you already. It won’t be long before you take off, conveniently forgetting the employees who count on you.”

Kane didn’t bother denying his brother’s words, not when they were too close to the truth. Hadn’t he been thinking about moving on again? The only reason he hadn’t already contacted a real estate agent and gotten things in motion was because he didn’t want to make any plans until he knew whether or not Estelle would be going with him.

“I had to walk away,” he said of his decision to join the Army, leaving Houston and his family behind. He couldn’t have stayed sober surrounded by his old friends. Couldn’t have held on to his pride while accepting handouts from his father.

He’d had to prove he could make it on his own.

“Dad was tough on you,” C.J. said quietly, “but think about it. Did he have any other choice?”

No. No, he hadn’t. There were days when Kane could admit his father had made a few right decisions, forcing him into rehab, trying to manage his out-of-control behavior. Kane had been on a collision course, one that would have undoubtedly resulted in his death.

“Leaving my past cost me,” he admitted to the brother he used to be close to. It’d cost him his relationship with C.J., with his other siblings and his mother. But he’d had to break those ties in order to really be free.

But it didn’t mean he didn’t think about his family. Didn’t wonder how his brothers were doing, if his mother was happy or still chasing money.

He couldn’t ask. Wouldn’t. He needed a complete break.

“But it was the only choice I could make. I’m not coming back. The sooner you get that through your head, the sooner you can convince Senior of the same, and he can leave me alone.”

C.J. sneered at him. Whatever bond they’d had as kids growing up, them against the world, had fractured and then split during their teenage years when C.J. had decided to continue being the golden son and Kane had openly rebelled.

They’d both played their parts. They needed to keep playing them.

“Now,” Kane continued, “be a good boy and catch the next flight to Houston and tell the old man you ran your little errand, but I’m not interested.”

“No need to go back to Houston for that.”

“So call him. I don’t care.” He just wanted to be done with this little family reunion.

“Not necessary.” C.J. raised his glass in a mock toast. “He’s right upstairs.”

* * *

“I’
M
NOT
LEAVING
,”
Estelle’s granddad grumbled. “It’s not safe for a girl your age to be left alone this late at night. Especially in an apartment over a bar. If your father won’t protect you, I will.”

He sat on her dad’s ratty couch, looking formidable and, unfortunately, unmovable.

Oh, she loved the old guy, even though he bitched about her dad, like, all the time. She just didn’t want Granddad here, in her dad’s place when Kane got home.

It was best to keep those two apart. Miles and miles and miles apart.

“I’m perfectly safe.” Estelle glanced at the door. Was that a sound on the stairs? Crap. Her heart racing, she tugged on Granddad’s arm until he sighed and got to his feet. Then she began pulling him toward the door.

“You trying to get rid of me, sugar?” he asked.

“Uh...obviously.”
Duh.

He dug in his heels. Narrowed his eyes. God, it was freaky how much he looked like her dad when he did that. “You’re not hiding a boy in here, are you?”

She snorted. “Hardly.” As if she was dumb enough to try something like that at her dad’s. “I don’t have a death wish.”

Or a desire to be grounded for the rest of her life.

“I’m just way too tired to deal with you and Daddy going at each other’s throats.” She hated when they argued, which seemed like all the freaking time. She grabbed the door handle. “So let’s just do me a huge favor and put off the start of your latest fight until tomorrow. Preferably when I’m not around.”

The apartment door burst open, shoving her back two steps.

Crap again. Too late.

Kane stood on the threshold, looking ready to commit murder.

Not hers, of course. He’d never laid a hand on her. Not even a spanking. No, his glare and fierce scowl were for Granddad.

Sighing, she stepped out of the way. Let the battle begin.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Kane demanded, slamming the door shut with a bang that shook the floor.

Granddad patted Estelle’s hand, as if he could tell she was worried. “Estelle told me about your accident. Your brother and I came to see if you were all right.”

“Three days later?”

“I run a multibillion-dollar company, boy. I can’t just take off whenever the whim hits me—like some people. I have responsibilities. People who count on me. I came as soon as I could clear my desk.”

He was worried, too, she realized, surprised to see the concern in his gaze as he took in her dad’s bruises and the cast. Heard it in the gruffness of his voice. Granddad had been worried about his son, just like a normal, loving parent.

Her dad didn’t see it, wouldn’t believe it even if she sat down and explained it to him in slow, simple sentences.

He was stubborn that way.

He shifted his accusing gaze to her. She widened her eyes. “Well, I didn’t know it was some sort of secret.”

All she’d done was mention to her grandfather that her dad had been injured. It wasn’t her fault he and Uncle C.J. had decided to fly out to Shady Grove.

“As you can see,” Kane said through gritted teeth, “I’m fine.”

“Fine?” Granddad stepped closer to Kane, his shoulders back, his eyebrows lowered. Even though he was like, pretty old, he was still handsome and tall, his blond hair barely threaded with gray, his body trim. “You call keeping my granddaughter in this...this...hovel, fine?”

“I don’t mind,” she said quickly, not wanting to be the pawn in this stupid game they played. “It’s really not that bad. It’s close to downtown and the stairs are good exercise.”

“Where I live, where my daughter stays, is none of your concern.”

Granddad started blustering, like the wind through the trees in her backyard in Houston during a bad storm. His face reddened. “I’d think
you’d
be a little more concerned about where she was going and who she’s with. Out with a boy, and one she barely knows.”

Estelle rolled her eyes. She never should have told him she’d gone to the movies with Andrew. “I have been out with boys before, you know.”

“I’d rather not hear that,” both men said at the same time.

Then glared at each other, blaming the other for both of them being pretty much the same person. Stubborn. Bossy. Overprotective.

If only they could see it.

Her dad paced the room. He always did when he was upset, as if he had too many thoughts and feelings inside him to deal with. To be still with. “Estelle had my permission to go out tonight. I trust her. She’s a good girl.”

His praise should have warmed her, used to do so. Now it shamed her. Guilt turned her stomach. She wasn’t always a good girl. Had made mistakes she could never tell him about.

They won’t believe you.

Adam’s voice slithered into her head like the snake he was. She shook it clear.

She placed both hands on her hips. “Do you two always have to fight? It’s so annoying. And really immature.”

They both gaped at her, but Granddad was the one to recover first. He pulled her to his side, kissed the top of her head. “I’m sorry, baby girl. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Well, it does upset me.”

He nodded. “You’re right. Your daddy and I will have to work harder on being civil.”

The way he said it made it clear he really thought Kane was the one needing to do the work.

“I’ll let you two get settled in for the night,” her granddad continued, picking up his coat and laying it over his arm. “Tomorrow we can spend the day together.” He winked. “See what trouble we can stir up for these Yankees.”

“I’d like that.” She kissed his smooth cheek.

“Shouldn’t you be flying back to Houston tomorrow?” Kane asked.

“I’m staying until Sunday. I want to spend some time with my grandbaby.” He sounded defensive. It was a free country, for God’s sake. He had to know he didn’t need an excuse to stay in Shady Grove. “C.J.’s heading back in the morning, though.” He hesitated. Frowned. “Did he discuss that business matter with you?”

Business matter? What business matter? Daddy didn’t have anything to do with Bartasavich Industries. Never had.

“I told him what I’ll tell you. I’m not interested.”

Granddad looked disappointed for a second, but then his expression cleared. “If you change your mind—”

“I won’t. And next time,” Kane said, opening the door and holding it in a clear sign he wanted his father out of his apartment, “don’t send C.J. to do your dirty work.”

Granddad stopped on the other side of the door. Looked sad and...old. “I thought maybe you’d listen. If he was the one doing the offering.” He looked past Kane to Estelle. “Good night, darlin’.”

“’Night, Granddad.”

After her dad shut the door, she curled up on the couch, tucking her legs under her and pulling her sleep jersey over her knees. “What did he mean by a business matter?”

Kane locked the door and sat next to her. Grimaced and readjusted the sling around his neck. “Your grandfather wants me to move back to Houston and work for Bartasavich Industries.”

“Oh.” She stared at her lap, picked at a piece of fuzz on her yoga pants. If he moved back to Houston, her problems would be over. She could live with him, keep her friends and still see her mom anytime she wanted. “You don’t want to?”

“I don’t,” he said simply.

But she could see on his face if she pushed, he would. He’d do it for her.

And he’d be miserable.

She couldn’t do that to him. Couldn’t ask that of him. Not when the mess she was in was all her own fault. She squeezed his fingers. “I don’t think you’d be very happy at B.I. I can’t imagine you wearing a suit and tie to work every day and being stuck in some office.

“Wherever we end up,” she said, “whether it’s here or Maine or...I don’t know...Canada, we’ll be fine. Because we’ll be together.”

“You don’t have to do this. Just because you said you wanted to live with me, doesn’t mean you can’t change your mind.”

Her throat dried. “Don’t you want me?”

“Wanting you has nothing to do with it. I need to make sure this is really what you want.”

“It is. Really.” But don’t think she didn’t notice he still hadn’t said if he wanted her or not.

“Promise me you’ll at least think about it some more before we talk to your mom.”

She opened her mouth, but couldn’t lie and say she wanted to leave everything she knew and live with Kane full-time. So she just forced a smile. And added yet one more lie to her growing list of sins. “I promise.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“Y
OU
’
RE
GOING
TO
be next,” Sadie predicted to Harper Kavanagh late Sunday afternoon, as Harper worked to open the bottle of champagne she’d brought to Charlotte’s.

Leo had been right. James had proposed to Sadie while they were away. They’d been so excited, they’d come home early that morning to tell their parents. An hour ago, Sadie had called Charlotte and their cousin Harper, and Char had invited them both over for a quick celebration before she went into work.

The cork popped, surprising Harper. Or maybe it was Sadie’s comment. “Next? For marriage?” She laughed, as bright and bubbly as the champagne she poured into the flute Char held. Shook her head, the ends of her dark blond hair brushing her shoulders. “I’m not in a hurry. And neither is Eddie.”

Eddie Montesano—James’s and Leo’s brother—and Harper had been together since last fall when Eddie’s son was in Harper’s second-grade class. They might not be in a hurry, but Char had no doubt that someday she and Sadie would become sisters-in-law.

Charlotte couldn’t understand why Harper would want to wait. Then again, the fact that Eddie had Max and Harper had a young daughter from her first marriage could complicate things.

But if you loved someone, you should want a commitment from them. Should want to commit to them.

Char wouldn’t wait, that was for sure. Wasn’t waiting, she assured herself as she handed Sadie the glass while Harper poured another one. She veered slightly off track in the pursuit of her five-year plan, hit a roadblock...

A six-foot-tall, green-eyed roadblock.

No, she was not going to think about Kane. It’d been four days since the awful scene in his apartment. She nibbled on the inside of her cheek. Remembered the feel of his mouth on hers, his hand skimming over her. Okay, so it hadn’t started out as awful, but that was neither here nor there. It had been a mistake. A doozy.

And she was so very tired of making mistakes.

Harper set the champagne on the coffee table. Char quickly slid a coaster under the bottle. It didn’t quite fit, but it should stop any water rings.

“Wait,” Harper cried when Sadie raised her glass to her mouth—as if Sadie were about to ingest rat poison along with the alcohol. “We need a toast.”

They both looked at Char. Guess since she was Sadie’s maid of honor and would be giving a toast at the wedding, they wanted her to practice.

“To Sadie and James,” she said, searching for the right words as she raised her glass. Knowing their history, simple and to the point seemed the way to go. “May you always be best friends.”

She must have nailed it because Sadie grinned broadly and lightly touched her glass to Char’s. “Thank you.”

Char had only a small sip, then set her glass aside. She had to work in just over an hour.

“Hard to believe out of the three Montesano siblings in committed relationships,” Sadie said, “James and I are the ones getting married first. Is that weird?” She nodded, took another drink. “That’s weird.”

But she didn’t look freaked out by it. She looked...content. Happy. Her sister had spent most of her life searching for excitement, never staying in the same place long, never sticking with one job or one man. Now she was planning her wedding, her marriage and her life, with one of the most settled, grounded men Char had ever known.

“Guess this is the beginning of the end of your adventurous days,” Harper said, her pretty face lit by a teasing grin.

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Sadie admired her engagement ring, two round white diamonds glittering on either side of a larger blue diamond. “I thought I’d be nervous when he proposed. Unsure. But when he asked me to marry him it was so right. Life with James is...it’s everything. Fun and passionate, serious and emotional, and so very easy. I think being his wife, eventually having his babies, is going to be the best adventure ever.”

Harper raised her glass. “Well said.”

Bitterness coated Char’s throat and she wished she could down the rest of her drink, maybe finish off the bottle to wash it away. It wasn’t that she was envious of Sadie and Harper—much. She was happy they were both in loving, committed relationships.

Was it so wrong to want that for herself?

Except now she wasn’t sure what she wanted. Oh, she’d been sure. Had been convinced she knew exactly what her future looked like: married to a respectable, kind, easygoing man, one who wanted a family, a life right here in Shady Grove, who was nice and charming and socially conscious.

Instead she couldn’t stop thinking about a wild-haired bad boy with too many tattoos and a cynical streak a mile wide.

She
would
stop thinking about him. Even if he did slip into her mind every once and again, she wasn’t letting it stop her from moving forward with her plans. When Justin had called her Thursday inviting her to lunch that day, she’d readily accepted.

That was how a relationship was supposed to work. A few casual dates so a couple could get to know each other better, followed by dinners out, maybe dancing or a show in Pittsburgh. So far, she and Justin were right on track.

She’d have to make sure they stayed there.

Someone knocked on the back door. Charlotte excused herself, then walked through the dining room to her small kitchen.

And saw Kane scowling at her through the door’s large window.

Her heart did one slow roll. Oh, this wasn’t good.

She didn’t want to see him. Didn’t want him in her house.

He knocked again, a light tap on the glass, then raised eyebrows as if asking her what she was doing. His eye was healing, the scratches fading, his hair falling over his stitches.

She didn’t have a choice so she opened the door a few inches, only enough for her message to be clear: he wasn’t welcome.

“Kane. Hello.” She wouldn’t stoop to his level. Would remain calm and polite no matter what. “What are you doing here?”

“You have company,” he said, his tone accusing, his eyes narrowed.

She didn’t have to wonder how he knew, since both Sadie and Harper had parked in her driveway. “Yes.”

He glowered, his hair lifting in the warm breeze. “I thought you’d be alone.”

“I’m not. And, as you can see—” she gestured to the mint-green scrubs she was wearing “—I’m going into work shortly so—”

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

She blinked, her hand tightening on the door. “Yes.”

Hard to deny it when it was true. So she wouldn’t have to face Kane, she’d even had Estelle meet her for lunch downtown instead of picking the girl up. Afterward, she’d dropped the teen off in the parking lot, then shot out of there like a race car driver after a pit stop.

“As scintillating as this conversation has been,” she said, her irritation at him growing—both for his behavior now and for what happened between them the other night. No, it wasn’t all his fault, but really, he did hold more than his share of blame. “I need to get going.”

“Kane?”

Char sighed and let her head hit the door.

“Hi,” Sadie said, coming up behind Char, her glass in hand, a sunny smile on her face. “Did you hear the good news? Come to congratulate me?”

“I’m not here for you,” he told Sadie, his gaze on Char. “I’m here for Charlotte.”

Her throat went dry, but it was just because of how he said it, with determination and something else, something deeper and hot in his tone. It was the way he looked at her—not even sparing Sadie a glance. It was just her hormones forgetting she’d let them lead her before, and all it had done was leave her feeling confused and hurt.

And, those hormones reminded her, very satisfied.

Stupid hormones.

“I’m sorry,” Sadie said with a laugh as fake as their mother’s blond hair. “I could have sworn you said you were here for my baby sister.”

“You heard right,” Kane said. Then he snatched Char’s arm and tugged her outside, shutting the door on Sadie’s shocked face.

Kept right on pulling her through the yard toward the large oak tree separating her property from her neighbor’s. The grass was cold and damp, wetness soaking into her socks as she struggled to keep up, to get free of his tight grip.

She growled in frustration. Seriously, the man had reduced her to growling. “Have you lost what is left of your mind?” she snapped, too irritated to keep her voice down, too embarrassed at his high-handedness not to worry about someone hearing her. Seeing him drag her around like a damn dog on a leash.

Not so much as glancing back at her, he lifted his left shoulder.

She clenched her jaw to stop a scream from finding its way out. While it fit the situation of being forcibly abducted from her home, it also seemed overly dramatic for this particular situation. No sense causing a scene. Or scaring the neighborhood kids racing their bikes up and down the sidewalk.

Someday, she thought, marching behind Kane, her kids would do the same. Ride their bikes with their neighborhood pals, play kickball in the backyard, have picnics right under this tree. It was all part of the plan. The house, her pursuit of a suitable man to become her husband, were all steps she’d carefully laid out, steps that needed to be taken to achieve her goals.

But when Kane stopped at the tree and faced her, eyes glittering, mouth unsmiling, all those plans went
poof!

And when she imagined her future offspring, those adorable, bright, funny children she someday hoped to have, they all had dirty-blond hair and cool green eyes.

* * *

C
HARLOTTE
WAS
RIGHT
. He’d officially lost his mind.

Her fault for making it so damned difficult for him to apologize to her. He’d tried calling and texting and had, at one sad, sorry point, resorted to driving past her house. She hadn’t been home. So he’d waited, had tried to catch her when she’d dropped Estelle off the other day but he’d been too late.

Now he’d resorted to this, yanking her from her home in just her socks and dragging her across the yard in the hopes of getting a few minutes of privacy.

Yep. Mind gone.

She tugged on his hand again, but he was afraid if he let go, she’d take off. She looked so irritated, her hair spiky, a little wrinkle forming in her forehead. Looking at her made his chest hurt, as though he couldn’t take a full breath.

He’d always known someday a woman would be the death of him.

“I’m sorry.”

He winced. He hadn’t meant to spit the words out that way, angry and frustrated. But apologizing had never been easy for him. Bartasaviches didn’t apologize.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, softening his tone to a rough growl, “for what happened the other night. I acted like a prick.”

She studied him, trying to decide if she should believe him or not. “Fine,” she said, all long-suffering and benevolent. “I forgive you. Now can I please go back inside? I have guests.”

“They can wait another minute.” Letting go of her hand, he quickly pulled the small box from his front pocket, shoved it at her. “Here.”

She fumbled it. Held it gingerly between her thumb and forefinger, as if he’d just handed her a ticking time bomb. “What is it?”

He wanted to smile at the suspicious note in her tone, but didn’t dare. “Open it.”

Her top teeth sinking into her bottom lip, she lifted the lid. Pulled out the delicate silver chain. The pendant was an irregular circle, as thick as a ring, the bottom flattened.

“This above all,” she said, reading the inscription, “to thine own self be true.”

He’d made a mistake with her the other night, more than one. The first had been opening up to her, telling her about the accident. He’d been confused by his sudden need for her, his emotions tangled in knots. Angry still, at himself, at his past. He’d taken his anger out on her. This was his way of telling her he respected her decision. He respected her.

“It’s...” She stopped. Swallowed, fisting her hand around the necklace. “It’s lovely. Thank you.”

And she smiled at him, a warm smile filled with understanding. Forgiveness.

It roared through him, blowing away all the bullshit reasons he’d told himself he was here, all the lies and excuses as to why he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

“Have dinner with me,” he heard himself say, sounding as desperate as some loser who’d never had a date with anyone other than a blow-up doll.

Her smile faded. “What?”

He stepped closer, told himself he deserved it when she edged back, watched him warily. “Have dinner with me,” he repeated, softer this time, less a desperate demand and more of a request. “Please,” he added when she gaped at him.

See? He could be polite. He’d been taught social graces from the time he was old enough to walk, and at times, he even still knew how to use those charms.

“No,” she said.

Did she have to sound so damned emphatic?

“A date,” he pressed. “One date. We’ll go into Pittsburgh. Hell, we can go wherever you want. New York City. DC. You name it.”

“I’m not going out with you.”

“Why not?”

“You know why not.”

She turned to go, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm. “I want to see you, Charlotte,” he said, letting his voice go low and husky. “I want to spend time with you.”

“Why?”

How was he supposed to answer that without sounding pathetic? When he couldn’t even explain it to himself. “I...I like you.”

Christ, that was worse. Now he sounded like a pimply thirteen-year-old sending notes to his crush during study hall.

But it was the truth. He did like her. Liked her humor and her strength. Her honesty and pride.

“Don’t,” she said quietly. “Don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t tell me you like me. Don’t ask me out. What would be the point? We want different things. I’m looking for someone I can spend the rest of my life with, someone I can commit, fully commit, to. And you’re biding your time until you can move on again.”

True. He didn’t even think about his future, didn’t plan on ever settling down with one woman. The idea of marriage, more kids, promising to be there day after day, all the things that were so important to her, left him cold.