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One second Declan is sitting behind the desk, the next he’s in my face. “Shut your fucking mouth.”
“Nah,” I say, shaking my head, the corner of my mouth, jerking upward even though my jaw is so stiff I think it might be close to cracking. “You treated her like shit, remember? You have no right to get pissed if someone else comes along and wants to help put her back together.” Even as I’m saying it, I know I’m talking to myself just as much as I’m talking to Declan. This isn’t about him and Tess. Not really. This is about Cari and me. The way I’ve been treating her. Because let’s be real—I’m just as guilty of what I’m saying as he is.
A muscle in Declan’s jaw flexes. “Is that right?”
“Sure is,” I answer. “And fuck you for thinking you do.”
Declan doesn’t answer me. The two of us stare each other down and I’m thinking this is really gonna happen, we’re really going to start throwing punches. I’m about to ask him to step outside because the office is where we keep liquor shipments and there’s about twenty grand worth of booze stacked on shelves behind him. I want to kick Dec’s ass, not bankrupt the bar.
“Are you guys gonna kiss?” Conner pipes up from the doorway. “Because I can come back…”
I look over to see Con, his hand latched around Alisha the pinch hitter’s wrist. Despite what he said, he knows what’s happening, even if he doesn’t know why, and he wants to tie this shit off before it gets out of control. The idea of Conner playing peacekeeper is ridiculous enough to cool my blood a bit. At least enough to keep me from throwing the first punch.
“No,” I say, keeping my tone easy but I don’t back down. Because that’ll never fucking happen, no matter how ridiculous this situation is. “I think we’re done here. What do you think, cousin?”
Declan bares his teeth before he takes a step back, putting a few inches between us. “Enjoy your pancakes,” he says, moving back behind the desk. “And shut the door—you idiots are wearing me thin.”
“Whatever you say, boss,” I say because suddenly I’m the kind of asshole who has to have the last word, before I sail through the door, slamming it closed behind me. I pick up my laundry basket and head down the hall.
“What the fuck was that?” Conner calls after me but I don’t answer. Walking through the bar without stopping, I head upstairs.
After dropping off mylaundry in the apartment, I head out to my truck and grab my tool belt and head back up. Strapping it on, I go to Cari’s room. The painting Chase gave her is still sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed.
My bed. The one I bought. The one she sleeps in without me.
The urge to put my foot through it is still there but I keep it in check. Instead, I survey the room, looking for the perfect place for it. She sleeps on her side, facing the alcove where she keeps her paints so I decide on the wall directly to its left. That way, she’ll see it every morning when she opens her eyes.
I pull out my stud finder, running it along the drywall until it lets out a beep. Marking the spot with my pencil, I dig out a nail and sink it in with a few light taps with my hammer. Lifting the painting, I drag it down until the nail in the wall hooks around the wire strung across the back of the wooden frame. Using my level, I make sure it’s as straight as an arrow.
Stepping back, I keep going until I bump into the bed and I sit down, imagining the way she’ll smile when she wakes up and sees it.
Perfect.
I look at the stack of finished paintings Cari keeps covered with a canvas drop cloth. She caught me snooping once, the first day she moved in. She’d been bringing in a box from her car and I’d just hauled up the stack from her trunk. I’d started to lift the drop cloth off the top of them when she walked in.
“Please don’t,” she said from the doorway, dropping the box on the floor before rushing over. As soon as she said it, I stopped, holding my hands in the air.
“Sorry,” I said, giving her a sheepish look. “I didn’t think you’d mind.”
“It’s okay,” she said, pushing her hair out of her face. “You don’t want to look at those anyway. They’re terrible.”
“No peeking,” I say, crossing my index finger over my chest. “Promise.” And I meant it. After that, I never looked. No matter how curious I was about what she was hiding from me.
Since then, I’ve seen a few of Cari’s finished paintings. That’s how I know that whatever she’s hiding under that drop cloth is anything but terrible. If they’re even half as good as what I’ve seen her do, their worthy of just about any museum in the world.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been sitting here before I realize I’m not alone anymore but when I do, my heart stutters a bit in my chest. I turn around hoping it’s Cari. I want to tell her I’m sorry. That what she did doesn’t matter. Not anymore. I want to tell her that I love her. That I want to be with her. I start to turn around to tell her all of it, even though I’m not sure I can but when the doorway comes into view, it doesn’t matter.
Because it’s not Cari standing behind me. It’s Sara.
“Tess is passed out in a booth and Con and Alisha are…” She shrugs and rolls her eyes. “Anyway, I think we’re finished downstairs,” she says and the way she says it tells me she knows how I feel about Cari. She’s known all along.
“Alright,” I say, standing up to unhook my belt. “It’s pancake time.” I shoot her a smile, heading toward her and she moves out of the doorway to let me pass. Bypassing the kitchen, I drop my tool belt on the dining room table. “Feel free to order a side of hash browns with your pancakes,” I say, joking because I don’t want to talk about Cari. Not with her. “You earned it.”
Sara laughs and the sound of it chases away the awkwardness between us. She doesn’t want to talk about it anymore than I do.
We make our way downstairs to find Alisha sitting at the bar alone, playing with her cell phone while Conner sits at a table by the door, Tess cradled in his lap. Declan is standing two feet from them, jaw clenched, keys in his hand.
“You were snoring less than thirty seconds ago,” Conner says, in an exasperated tone. “No pancakes. Not tonight—come on, Tessie, just let me take you home. You put in a full day at the garage and then you came here and worked your ass off. You’re wiped.”