Unbroken (8 page)

Cade took one last drink of his beer and walked over to the sink, setting the bottle next to it. “I'll put it in recycling in the morning. Got a toothbrush I can use?”

“Ew, no, Cade I am not swapping spit with you.”

“I'm having a flashback.” He arched a brow. “I think I recall you saying that to me in high school.”

Her face got hot again. Damn all these unintentional double entendres and sexy thoughts! “Actually, I don't recall ever having to say it to you. Because you were basically the only guy who never asked.”

“Guys at school treated you like shit. I hated it.”

“And that's why you and I are friends,” she said.

“Apparently not good enough friends to share a toothbrush.”

“I would give you blood. Hell, I would give you a lesser internal organ that wasn't required for survival, or that I have more than one of. But I'm not letting you use my toothbrush. Sleep tight. With beer breath. Go get your toothbrush in the morning.”

Seven

“He left because of me, didn't he?”

Nicole could tell that neither of her half siblings, Lark or Cole, or their respective spouses, Quinn and Kelsey, wanted to confirm her statement. But she could tell, just as easily, that it was true.

“Well,” Cole said, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. “Well.”

“He did,” Nicole said. “It's okay. I'm kind of used to people skipping bail on me. Sorry. But I am.”

“Our dad . . .” Lark started.

“Hey, it's not a thing, Lark,” Nicole said. “We all had a crappy time, okay?”

Her poor half sister had just rolled in from her honeymoon, of all things, to find Nicole here at Elk Haven, with no sign of Cade.

Cole had done his best to explain it all and smooth it all over. Or rather, Kelsey had, since she was the one who'd said that Nicole could come.

And Nicole was figuring out pretty quickly that either no one could get mad at Kelsey, or no one could argue with her. Or maybe both.

“No,” Lark said. “It is a thing. And don't feel like you have to act like it isn't. We're realistic about what Dad's actions meant. And yeah, it was hard. For me, for all of us, but we're dealing with it. You aren't the bad part.”

“Exactly,” Cole said. “The disappointment of Dad not being who he was is a few years old for me. And it was a hard thing to come to terms with. For a while I made some bad choices about it. Trying to protect Lark from the truth, which kept you away too. And I do regret that. Because a piece of this place should be yours. Even if it's just the option to come up on holidays or for free vacations. I mean, hopefully it will mean more than that someday, but . . . until then.”

Nicole shifted in her seat, her fingers curled around her coffee cup like it was her lifeline to the earth. “Cole . . .”

They all startled when the front door opened and one heavy step hit the wood floor. Nicole's head whipped in the direction of the entry, and she saw Cade standing there, looking like someone had just forced him to chew a handful of bees.

“Mornin',” he said, walking into the room, his hands jammed in his pockets. “I'm here for my toothbrush.”

“Just your toothbrush?” Kelsey stood up and crossed her arms. “Lark is back. And Quinn. And Nicole is here.”

Cade nodded his head once. “Lark. Good to see you.”

Nicole noticed he didn't greet her or Quinn.

Well then.

“Have a cup of coffee,” Kelsey said.

And because no one argued with Kelsey, Cade crossed the expansive living area and took a cup off the bar, holding it beneath the coffee urn and dispensing some of the dark liquid into his cup.

He stayed there, leaning against the counter, clearly there against his will.

“How was the honeymoon, Lark?” he asked.

“Blissful,” Lark said, one eyebrow arched. “We swam with dolphins. Flippin' dolphins!”

That pulled a smile from Cade. “Wow. You got away from the Wi-Fi.”

“I didn't log in to the Internet once in the villa we rented.”

“What did you do with your time?”

This earned him a more intense eyebrow arch, and a very male, very cocky half smile from Quinn.

Cade's scowl returned. “You're taking this revenge against me for a few off-color jokes very seriously.”

“All the dirty Cade jokes, all the time, for twenty-two years of my life. Hell yeah, I'm retaliating and enjoying it. Deal.”

Nicole couldn't really imagine Cade making jokes, dirty or otherwise, because she'd only seen him looking . . . sour.

He slugged his coffee back and winced. “Toothbrush. And then I have to get off to work.”

Cade turned away from the little happy family gathering, or whatever the hell they were trying to pass that knot of awkward off as, and headed up the stairs.

Yeah, he was kind of being a prick. But honestly, at the moment he didn't care. The inside of his mouth felt like it was lined with Astroturf, the evidence of his father's failings was down in the living room, and he'd slept like absolute hell on Amber's evil mattress.

He'd half expected to find a pea under it this morning and discover he was a motherfucking princess.

He had to see a man about some bison today. So he didn't really have time to feel like an arthritic old geezer thanks to a crappy mattress, and he really didn't have time to confront his feelings and deep inner fears about his moral character.

He pushed open the door to his bedroom and stalked inside, throwing open the closet and cursing a blue streak when a sharp pain shot through his leg and up his spine.

He did not have time for this shit. Today or ever. And it was his life.

He growled and threw a duffel bag onto his bed.

“What crawled up your butt and died?”

Cade turned and saw Lark standing in the door, her arms crossed, tugging the Superman
S
on her t-shirt into a weird shape.

“Well, nice to see you too,” he said.

“You were a jackass to Quinn. And to Nicole.”

“When am I not a jackass to Quinn? And as for Nicole, I haven't decided how I'm going to deal with her yet.”

“How about like what she is. As much of a victim of this as any of us. You know? No. She's more of a victim than we are, Cade. We have this house. We had Mom and Dad. We had all kinds of amazing things that she just didn't have, and now you're punishing her too. For what? Being born? I think she's had enough of that.”

“I'm not faking it, okay? It's not her. I'm not mad at her, I'm not sorry she's alive, but I don't know how I feel about any of it, and I'm not going to sit down there and smile sweet while inside I have no idea what to think about it. Do we want another sibling?”

“The question is moot, Cadence. We have one.”

“Don't call me that. This is why I don't especially want another sister. My hands are full with the one I have.”

Lark lifted one shoulder. “Well, honestly, I doubt she'll feel like a sister in the same way I feel like one. You didn't grow up with her. You never put anti-itch cream in her toothpaste tube. And no one is asking you to feel that way about her. Not now, and maybe not ever, but the fact remains, she's our half sister and she deserves . . . something. From us. From Dad. From Dad most especially, and he died before he could ever give it. So that means it's up to us.”

Cade let out a sigh, the crushing pressure in his chest annoying him. Because it meant he knew she was right. “When did you get so damn smart?”

“I've found clarity and serenity thanks to Quinn's mighty lovin'.”

Cade curled his lip. “That's a step too far, Mrs. Parker.”

She smiled at that. “Mrs. Parker. It has a nice ring to it. But you really do need to figure out how to be nice to my husband. I'm keeping him.”

“Old habits.”

“You know he didn't have anything to do with your injury.”

Cade nodded slowly, his leg giving him a nice jolt of pain right on time. “I know. But I hated him for a lot of years.”

“You don't hate him now though.”

“Only for taking you away,” Cade said, his chest still tight. “But I'm glad for you too.”

Lark's brown eyes went glossy. “Oh, Cade. That was . . . sweet.”

“Yeah, don't get used to it. I didn't get to talk to you after the wedding, but you were the prettiest bride I've ever seen.”

“You're only saying that because you've never had your own bride.”

He laughed, short and harsh. “And I won't.”

“Never?”

“Not in the cards.”

“What about Amber?” Lark asked, her eyebrows knitting together. “Cole said . . .”

Ah, damn Cole. And damn him for forgetting about the Amber ruse. “Cole has a big mouth. But come on, Lark, you should know there's a difference between a little bit of sex, and marriage.”

“Sure. That was my intent with Quinn, after all.” He did his best not to wince. “But look, here I am, leg-shackled to him for the rest of my life, in sickness and health, blah blah blah. Plus, it's Amber. I figured if you ever got around to sleeping with her it would be 'cause you loved her.”

Cade shifted, trying to balance his weight so that his leg wouldn't scream at him quite so loudly. There was no way for him to have this conversation without sounding like a first-class heel.

Because Lark was right. He did love Amber. Oh, not in the way she meant, but he did.

And that meant there was no way in all the world he'd ever use her to soothe the savage beast of his sexual appetite. So trying to convince her he would . . .

It was inauthentic, and there was no way for him to come out of it smelling like anything other than bull pucky.

“Look,” he said, already knowing he'd opened badly, “some things are more complicated than just . . . marriage or casual. Amber is my friend, and I do love her, but what we have is . . . it's mutually beneficial, okay?”

That at least was the truth. It got his ass out of his house, so he could avoid Nicole and any confronting feelings, and it allowed him to get a start on his bison ranch. As for Amber, it kept her safe from Davis and gave her ranch an injection of revenue.

Sure, it wasn't the kind of mutually beneficial Lark was thinking, wherein they both got orgasms, but bison were almost as good. And a lot less dangerous.

“Okaaaay,” Lark said. “I guess I'm not going to understand this one, but then, I can't claim to have ever understood the two of you.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you're like an amoeba that's grown together to form your own little amorphous blob, and no one can get very close to either of you, because you pour it all into each other. But you were never dating, or sleeping together.”

“We're friends,” he said.

Maybe it was unusual for a man and woman to stay friends for as long as they had, but the fact that so many people had trouble understanding a friendship that strong confounded him.

“Did you ever have a friend you could tell everything to?” he asked. “One who's seen you drunk, and pissed, and crying, and laughing, and never once thought less of you for any of those things?”

Lark shook her head. “No. I didn't have a lot of friends in school, you know that. I mean, Quinn is like that, but he's my husband.”

“Well, I had one friend. One really good friend. And when you find someone like that, you keep them. But being a husband is different than being a friend, and I'm not geared toward being a husband.”

“Why?”

Take Nicole Peterson down in the living room as the first lot of evidence.

“I'm just not, cupcake. Don't worry about it.”

“Too late. I worry.”

“It's my job to worry about you. No one needs to worry about me. Now, go downstairs and be friendly for me. I promise I'll be nice to Quinn later.”

“And Nicole?”

“I have some things to sort through.”

“I hope you sort through them correctly and come up with a solution that's not filled with asshattery,” Lark said.

“I'm relieved that marriage hasn't changed you.”

“Hell no. And you know what, I did go online for a few minutes in Hawaii. Just to figure out when this big gaming tournament was. Tonight, I'm going to make it rain zombie blood. Quinn will have to find something else to occupy his time.”

“I love your consistency,” he said.

“Thanks. I love you even when you're a growly asshole.”

Cade stretched his arms out and pulled Lark into a gruff hug. “Kinder words have never been said to me.”

“Aw, go on.”

“It's true. I love you.”

“I love you too. Now, go brush your teeth,” she said. “Your breath really does stink.”

*   *   *

“Grandpa?” Amber called up the stairs, then looked back at
the bacon and eggs on the table, which were starting to congeal in a very unpleasant manner.

It was late. And by late, she meant the sun was up. She'd already eaten and had her third cup of coffee and was about ready to head to work, and there was still no sign of her grandfather.

He didn't like for her to “ride him about things” and he didn't like for her to check on him like he was “a damned child,” but given that it was nearly seven, she felt like it was time to incur his wrath.

She sighed and headed up the stairs, ready to get yelled at. Whatever. The old guy couldn't go around being a more obnoxious, on-time wake-up call than a rooster ninety-five percent of the time and then one day not show up for breakfast.

She sighed and knocked on his bedroom door, waiting for a response. There wasn't one.

She pushed open the door and walked in, her heart pounding hard. The bed was empty, and the door to the bathroom was open.

“Oh shit.”

She walked toward the bathroom and pushed the door open and saw him, crumpled in front of the vanity, blood trickling from his temple.