Harlequin Superromance January 2014 - Bundle 2 of 2: A Ranch for His Family\Cowgirl in High Heels\A Man to Believe In (73 page)

CHAPTER NINETEEN

A
DO
-
IT
-
YOURSELF
MOVING
truck with California plates was tucked at the top of Peter's driveway. He parked behind the vehicle.

“What the heck?”

He climbed out. Looked in the windows. Empty. No one was by the front door. He walked around back.

“Petie!”

Gil and Rudy were perched on his back porch, drinking martinis from long-stemmed glasses etched with palm trees. Dressed in T-shirts, shorts and matching designer sandals, they lounged on the steps as if they'd visited the backyard a hundred times. A picnic basket and a small cooler sat on the porch between them. Strawberries still in their balsa-wood farm containers and a plastic plate with cheese and crackers sat on the closed lid of the picnic basket.

“We've been waiting for you!”

“I can't believe it! What are you guys doing here?”

Both men stood. Gil looked very much like Peter, except his shorter, dark blond hair hadn't been exposed to sun and salt like Peter's had. Although the same height, Gil's athletic physique was honed in a gym, while Peter's muscles had been sculpted from surfing. Rudy was a runner. Taller and leaner than both men, he had penetrating blue eyes beneath his shock of dark hair, which was trimmed close to his head. Both men wore a diamond earring in one of their ears.

Laughing out loud, Peter bear-hugged each of them. Gil slapped him on the back. “You look great, Nurse Chapman.”

Rudy scrutinized his brother-in-law. “Oh, I don't know, Gilbert. I think we arrived just in time. Look at the circles under his eyes. Definitely not enough rest.”

Peter was speechless. Rudy and Gil were like the cavalry coming to his rescue. “When did you... Why?”

Rudy patted his arm. “Easy, boy. Let's pour you a martini.”

He waved him away. “Not for me. Tell me. What happened? Did you give up on San Fran?”

“Poor choice. Almost a year and we just couldn't make the city feel like home.”

Rudy said, “So we figured, go east, young men.”

“We missed you,” Gil added.

“I can't tell you how glad I am to see you.”

“Driving through Manhattan was a nightmare, but the trip out here was worth the trial. Montauk, the farms and the Hamptons are beautiful.” He slapped at a mosquito biting his arm. “Only the mosquitoes in your backyard, man! Not so good.”

“I'll buy a bug zapper. Haven't had much time to sit out here.”

Rudy pointed to the open yard. “We'll put a screened gazebo right there.”

Peter laughed. “You're going to fit right in here. Want to come inside and see the place?”

“Sure! Do you mind if we stay for a while?”

He gave his brother a suspicious look. “How long?”

“Really?”

He wrapped an arm around Gil's shoulder. He never thought he'd be so happy to see his brother. “I'm kidding. Of course you can stay. Actually, if you've moved to Montauk for good, the summer rental upstairs will be gone in about two weeks. Let's talk to Brian about snagging the apartment for you.”

“Brian sounds like our savior,” Rudy said.

“He's straight,” Peter teased. Great payback for calling him Petie.

Rudy looked insulted. “And I'm a married man.”

Peter laughed again, realizing it had been a long time since he had felt this light inside. “Well, if you didn't bring a bed, I know the perfect place with the perfect salesman to sell you one.”

Gil rolled his eyes. “Don't egg him on, Peter. Please! Besides, we have a bed. It's a car we'll need to buy.”

He scooped up the cheese and strawberries. “Grab your basket and cooler. Let's go inside before the mosquitoes carry us away.”

Dinner found them settled in the dining room. Gil sat back in his chair and stared at Peter. Shaking his head, he said, “Amazing.”

Sunset splashed crimson light above the trees through the windows behind Gil. “What is?”

“You've stopped running.”

Peter frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Rudy came in carrying a bowl of pasta, filling the air with the savory aroma of veggies, garlic and shrimp. “Yeah, Gil. What do you mean? You and Peter lived in that house for most of your lives.”

“Yeah, but Pete was always on the run. Look at him now. He's like putty in the chair. He's not all stressed out.”

“Oh, come on. I wasn't.”

Gil scoffed. “You don't think so? Peter, I was there. You pulled some pretty tricky maneuvers to keep us from becoming another social services statistic.”

Rudy served up the pasta. “Yeah, how about that time you changed your voice pretending to be your father on the phone with bill collectors.”

Gil added, “Or the time you rode your bike twenty miles to Dad's house to get the rent check he never delivered and then turned around and rode to the bank to deposit it.

“Then, you learned how to fix the toilet. Unclog sinks. Make one can of tuna last for six sandwiches. Kept Mom from hitting on the mailman. Punched out Arnie Griffin for calling me a fag.” Gil reached over and gave Peter a high five. “It was as if you were always pumped up to keep us going. Now look at you. Calm as a pond.”

“Well, I'm dying inside.”

Gil put down his fork. “Cassie? I've been waiting to ask. You sounded pretty upbeat about her treatments in your emails.”

Suddenly, the food wasn't so appealing. He didn't want to insult Rudy, so he twirled a mouthful onto his fork. “I asked her to marry me in the beginning of the week. Not only did she say no. She broke up with me.”

Rudy slapped the table. “Why would she do something so foolish?”

“It's complicated.”

“How sick is she?”

Peter looked at his brother. “The tumors have shrunk. The chemotherapy is pretty rough on her. The treatment is almost worse than the disease.”

“I've heard. Tricky balancing the bad against the bad to get positive results.”

Rudy looked confused. “So why would she break up with you now? You've been with her through this whole ordeal.”

Peter forced himself to chew a forkful of pasta before answering. He was so preoccupied with Cassie, the amazing flavor was wasted on him. He swallowed, wiped his mouth.

“A lot of issues have come to play. She's been overanalyzing everything, especially her life. I think she's scared, mostly.”

“What are you going to do?”

His laugh was hollow. “Three days ago, I was heading to California to see you two, but Doc stopped me.”

“That would have been rich. We were already halfway here,” Rudy said.

“I want you guys to meet Cassie.”

“Even now?”

He looked at Gil. “Oh, yeah. I'm not giving up on her. She will have to drive me out at gunpoint to get rid of me.”

“And then you still won't give up.” Gil chuckled. “We'd be honored to meet her. Anytime. There's just one thing I want you to keep in mind, little brother.”

“What's that, Gil?”

“You're wired to take care of people. You started with Mom and cemented the behavior by going to nursing school. I know how hard the task was for you to have Mom institutionalized. You did the right thing, bro.”

“The more distance I've had the better I see that fact,” Peter said.

Gil pushed his finished plate away. “I just want to make sure the proper motive is driving you to stand by your girl.”

Uh-oh. He recognized the concern lighting his brother's eyes. Gil was not one to hold back his thoughts if he believed an issue needed to be addressed. “What are you worried about?”

“Your overblown sense of responsibility.”

Peter's skin prickled. Bull's-eye. “Overblown?”

“I'm here to tell you that you don't have to save the day anymore. Everyone is in charge of their own destiny. You only need be concerned about your life.”

Peter sat back in his chair. His brother's words hit like a wrecking ball. Before leaving California, Peter had spent hours on his surfboard trying to ride off the guilt of handing the responsibility for his mother's care to strangers. Putting her under the supervision of people who didn't love or understand her the way he did wrenched his gut—right up to signing the admission forms and walking away from her. Mom's accusations and tears still resonated in his ears. Had he turned that need for absolution on Cassie? Was he going to save her to make up for abandoning his mother?

“Is this some sort of test?”

Gil shook his head. “No. I simply want you to think, bro. Is it love or wanting to save another failing spirit that's driving you to be with Cassie?”

Peter's gaze drifted out the window. A deer had wandered into the grass from the woods. He watched it graze, thinking about the deer that had caused him to crash his truck and end up in Cassie's arms. There was so much more to Cassie than her drop-dead good looks. He loved working the E.R. with her, listening to her laugh, how he felt the urge to howl when she looked at him with her bedroom eyes.

He met his brother's stare. “No, Gil. I fell in love with Cassie the minute I met her. I'm standing by her side because I couldn't leave if I tried.”

For the first time since this entire mess began, the pressure of tears filled his eyes. A lump constricted his throat. He swallowed hard, unable to imagine the possibility of losing Cassie. Just thinking about her brought his senses alive. The feel of her body against his. Her perfume. Her sweet voice. The soft pads of her fingers on his skin. Her convictions. Her sighs when they made love.

He took a moment to press his palms to his eyes to get a grip on his emotions. Looking up at the two men he trusted most, he said, “I have never felt love the way I feel for Cassie. She has turned my world upside down, and I've never been happier. If she dies? I will never get over losing her.” He shook his head. “No. This is no act of contrition. I'm in way too deep.”

Rudy and Gil exchanged glances. He saw the understanding pass between them. They knew all too well the type of love Peter described.

Gil stood, reached for their empty plates. “Then we're here for you, brother. There's no turning back now. What's your next move?”

* * *

H
IS
MIND
CONSUMED
with Cassie, Peter was up early the next morning. He had the evening shift today, which meant Cassie worked this morning. He put on a pot of coffee for himself and the guys, wondering what to do with the day. First impulse was to text Cassie like he did every morning. He pulled out his phone. What could it hurt to let her know he was still here for her?

He tapped the message icon on his phone.

Morning, Cassie. Thinking of you. Hope you're feeling stronger today. Whether you want to hear it or not...I love you!

His finger hovered over the send button. Should he? The kitchen door swung open. Gil stepped in, Rudy behind him. Late last night, he helped them drag their mattress from the truck into the guest room. They'd been quick to pull out a box with sheets, blankets and pillows and set up their temporary comfort. He was surprised to see them up so early. They'd had a long drive.

He hit the send button on the text, along with a prayer that he wasn't making an ass out of himself.

“Coffee, fellas?”

Gil ran a hand through his hair. “Nectar of the gods!”

Peter pulled some eggs and English muffins from the fridge. “I'll make breakfast. What's on the agenda for today?”

Rudy tapped a finger for each task. “We need a car. Find some employment. Get you some decent towels for your bathroom.”

Peter laughed. He knew his towels wouldn't make the grade with Rudy. “Okay, so you'll be busy. Good.”

Peter's phone rang. He squeezed his eyes shut before looking, hoping it was Cassie. Nope. Bobby's name showed on the ID. He punched the answer button.

“Bobby. Good morning.”

“Hey, Peter. What's your schedule like today? Wanna take a run on the
Lady Beth?
”

His glance shot to his brother. This was a first. As if following some unwritten rule, Bobby had never invited Peter out on the boat. Sure, he had given him a tour of the vessel at the dock, but the offer to go to sea? Never happened. Peter figured Bobby couldn't revisit taking someone close to his daughter out on his boat. He'd also gotten the feeling from Cassie that she'd be more comfortable if the
Lady Beth
stayed off-limits to Peter. At the time, he was more than happy to honor these unspoken feelings he sensed between them. For Bobby to offer a ride now, well, one of two things had occurred. Either Bobby no longer considered him his daughter's love interest, or he needed to talk and wanted to go to the place he felt most at home. The sea.

“I'd love a ride on the
Lady Beth,
Bobby. Only I have unexpected company. My brother and Rudy are here.”

Bobby didn't hesitate. “Well, bring them along.”

Gil waved a dismissing hand. “No. No. We have too much to do. How about we'll drop you off at the boat and use your truck to run around?”

Peter nodded. “That works.” He turned his attention back to the phone. “When do you want me at the dock?”

“Say, an hour? Grab two coffees on the way, will you?”

“Sure. See you then.” Peter ended the call, curious as to what Bobby wanted to discuss. He hoped it was Cassie.

* * *

O
NE
HOUR
LATER
,
Bobby signaled to Peter from the wheelhouse. “Cast off!”

Peter looped the line from the boat cleat onto the hook embedded in the mooring pole so it would be easy to grab when they returned to the dock. He'd seen Bobby's crew do the same when they had returned last time.

The rumble of the accelerating twin diesel engines beneath his feet shot a sense of satisfaction through Peter. Whether from the vibrating deck or the percussion sound of the engines, the sensation ran a rush right through the crown of his head.