Hearts in Motion (16 page)

“That’s fine. I didn’t mean—”

“Great!” Abby crouched in front of Cara. “Sweetie, I bet Lion would really like it if you threw a ball for him until breakfast is ready. Okay?”

Cara nodded, but her face didn’t light up as it usually did.

Abby thanked her then stepped to the silverware drawer. Only when the screen door clicked shut did she turn to Holden.

He looked miserable. Good.

“You’ve got this all wrong,” he said.

She crossed her arms then uncrossed them, making an instant decision that she was not going to be that bitter person. Just because they were good together in bed didn’t mean anything.

“Don’t make excuses. I don’t need them; I don’t want them. You’ve got the morning regrets written in giant letters on your face. I’m okay with it.” She shrugged. “We had a good time. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“That’s not it. It’s just that...” He rubbed his hand through his hair. “There’s Portia. I should take care of that first.”

“Don’t take care of it on my account.” She shifted to the stove, turning the heat on to medium. “Would you mind setting the table? In a half hour—”

A hand on her shoulder stopped her. “It was more than a good time in bed,” he said, his voice raw. “I’m not having the morning-after regrets. I just feel...dishonorable doing this while I’m engaged.”

She turned and looked into his eyes, so close to her, so troubled. She sighed, letting go of the remnants of anger. Not asking him where these thoughts were last night, because she knew it wasn’t just him. There’d been two people in her bed. She hadn’t wanted to make love with an engaged man...but that’s what she’d done.

“Neither of us made any promises last night. Let’s just eat.”

Before he could object, Cara returned, and the eggs were done. Holden ate breakfast with them after all, and Abby focused her attention on Cara, getting giggles and smiles from her. Even Holden was smiling at the end when he left, squeezing her hand and saying he’d call.

Then they were gone. She closed the door and leaned against it. Only then did she lower her eyelids and let herself wallow in sadness for a moment.

And another.

And another.

Her instincts were normally right, and when he’d walked into the kitchen, she’d seen the what-the-hell-did-I-do look in his eyes. He could pretty it up all he liked, but she’d seen what she’d seen, and she knew what she knew.

She sucked in a deep breath of air and headed to her office and turned on her computer.

Like a million other women who’d thought,
This man is different,
she’d been wrong. So what? Too bad. She’d get over it. It was his loss. She was a wonderful lover. She was a wonderful person.

But, oh God, it hurt so bad.

The computer loaded, and she stared at it for a long moment, just feeling the ache of rejection. The ache of a bruised heart. Wondering how she could have misread him so much.

Maybe he was one of those men who, once they had something, didn’t want it anymore.

She was better off without him.

After all, they’d only known each other for a short time. For whatever reason, her body had zeroed in on him and said,
This is him. This is The One.

But her body was wrong. Because The One wouldn’t be sorry after the most wonderful lovemaking in his life.

Her emotions numb, she opened her email. It was either that or curl up and cry, and she’d done enough of that in her life already.

She deleted the first three emails from places trying to sell her things and sent another one to spam. The next one said “Angel Investor,” sent by a man whose name she vaguely recognized. She read it, but the words didn’t sink in, her mind numbed along with her heart. She read it again, and still nothing. The third time, the words finally got through to her mind. She blinked and read it again. Then a fifth time to see if it really said what she thought it did.

Oh God. Oh my God.

She put her hand to her mouth.
 

Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God.

She picked up the phone and pressed a familiar number.
 

19

Ryan came into Holden’s living room with his I-know-I-was-bad-but-I can’t-help-it
look and three puzzles for Cara. Holden crossed his arms and listened to her thank him with her small voice as she stared with rapture at the puzzle with the princess, castle, rainbow, and unicorn. All it was missing was a kitten, but she had her own live one and didn’t need one made of layers of cardboard.

Still in his generous-uncle mode, Ryan helped her open the box, telling her it was a floor puzzle. As she dumped the pieces on the rug, Ryan turned to Holden.

“Beware of Greeks bearing gifts,” Holden said.

“Hey, it’s a unicorn, not a Trojan horse. And we need to talk.”

“Maybe you need to talk. Not sure if I do.”

“Yeah, you do. We’re all the family we’ve got.”

Holden opened his mouth to answer him when the lack of movement on the floor caught his attention. He swung his gaze to Cara. “All three of us are family. And one kitten.”

Beaming, Cara turned back to her puzzle pieces.

“Cara, Uncle Ryan and I will be in the kitchen.” He nodded at the kitchen she could easily see just by turning her head.

“Okay, Daddy.”

In the kitchen, Ryan opted to stand a few feet from him while he made coffee, telling Holden that someday he was going to be a great dad. Each word was like broken glass rubbed onto Holden’s nerves.
 

Only a short time had passed since Cara had been dropped off at his house. He’d never been an emotional man. He’d only taken Cara because it was the right thing to do. Because her grandparents were running away from her as if she carried the plague.

And now taking care of her seemed to be the most important thing in the world that he should do.

He set the two coffees on the kitchen island. There were stools on the other side, but he remained standing, and so did Ryan.

“What do you want?” Holden asked.

“To apologize. I was an ass yesterday.”

He gazed toward the living room. “You were. I accept your apology.” It was easy to forgive him when he’d done something so much worse.

And so much more wonderful.

“Don’t make it so easy. I don’t deserve it.”

Something in Ryan’s voice—maybe it was sincerity or just a good imitation—caught Holden’s attention. He looked Ryan straight in his eyes. “You want the truth?”

His forehead scrunched, Ryan looked down at his shoes then up. “Like the movie says, I don’t know if I can handle the truth. I’ve been pretty much a shitty human being.”

“I don’t know if you’re that far gone, but you’ve been selfish. You feel entitled.”

Ryan raised his gaze. “That’s the difference between us. You think every person is entitled.”

“You’re wrong there. I think everyone has to earn it. Even me, even you.”

“How?” Ryan frowned at him, not an angry frown but as if he really wanted to know how he could earn his entitlement.

No, Holden thought, this wasn’t about earning entitlement for Ryan. He wanted to know how he could earn respect.

“It’s simple but not always easy. By being a decent person.”

“Let me give you a scenario.” Ryan took a gulp of coffee before continuing, and it looked to Holden like he wished it was a slug of something alcoholic. He set the mug down. “What if your parents were selfish shits? What if the grandparents who raised you didn’t like anything you did and kept comparing you to your older brother? And then you grew up and grew a little wild and were careless and uncaring. And no one was surprised. They all expected it from you, and you sure the hell didn’t blast their expectations. How hard would it be for that guy to turn into a decent person?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

“I can’t.”

“You’re the only one who can. I’d think in that case, you’d want to show the world you’re not letting people who were lousy at child raising define you. That you’re a hell of a lot better than what they or anyone else thinks.”

Ryan turned his gaze to the living room. “But what if you’re afraid you’re not?”
 

“You think everyone isn’t afraid?” Holden made his voice low when he wanted to shout at Ryan. But not with Cara in the house. “You think everyone doesn’t have doubts? You think I don’t? If you do, you’re wrong. I’m loaded with doubts. Ask any psychiatrist about self-doubt. They’ll tell you the only people who don’t have them are psychopaths.”

Ryan looked at him again with a half grin. “So by doubting myself, I’m proving I’m not a psychopath?”

“As far as I know, you could still be a psychopath. But going forward with your life despite the doubts proves you’re going to keep trying until you get it. Just like the rest of us.”

Ryan nodded at the patio. “It’s looking good outside. You mind talking on the patio?”

Holden picked up his coffee and raised his voice so it would carry into the living room. “Cara, Holden and I will be on the patio in the back.”

“Daddy, I got the rainbow!”

He frowned at Ryan. “You go ahead. I’ll join you in a minute.”

He was glad Ryan didn’t follow him. Ryan would think he was doing this out of duty. Or out of pity. Maybe that’s what had started it, but now he was doing it for the same reason Cara had lost her heart to the kitten. Epic needed her. Cara needed him.

There was something powerful about being needed. It was hard to walk away from that need, hard not to lose your heart.

He took a moment to admire the rainbow and Cara’s beaming face. Then the kitten batted the puzzle pieces out of order. Cara turned to scold Epic, and Holden told her he’d be on the patio, in case any more kittens attacked her princess castle.

He left to her giggles, and though he knew taking on the role of a father was going to hold challenges and irritations, right now being a father just made him feel...pretty damn great.

And then he thought about the rest of his life, and that great emotion drained away.

Everything Ryan had talked about pertained to him, too. The reason he was so stiff and held in his emotions. Even after last night.

He’d never been loved as a child, and that ruined him for love. He made wrong choices, choosing women who couldn’t love him back.

And what if he’d done it again?

Just about to step onto the patio, he stopped, fear shutting down his breath.

“Something wrong?” Ryan pushed out of the cushioned rattan chair.

Not able to talk, Holden shook his head and stepped onto the patio. He forced himself to exhale and inhale. To push down his own self-doubts and concentrate on Ryan. “What’s this about?”
 

“Portia,” Ryan said.

Holden headed to the patio railing. The grass sloped to the lake below. It was a perfect day, the sun not too hot yet, the air dry enough that there were no mosquitoes, just the buzz of flies. Later on today, he would do something outdoors with Cara, but he didn’t know what that should be. He wasn’t used to being a parent.

He didn’t want to talk about Portia. He didn’t want to think about her. But she was like a wisdom tooth that needed pulling. Better to pull it out fast.

After that, he would have to talk to Abby, but Portia first. “What about Portia?” he asked.

Ryan came up next to him and leaned his arms on the railing. “A few nights ago, Abby took me to the old barn where her partner makes the cat furniture.”

“That’s not news. I thought you were going to talk about Portia, not Abby.”

“I’m getting to it. Now who’s the impatient one?”

Holden raised his eyebrows. “We’re arguing about this, too?”
 

“It’s a story. Stories have to unfold.”

“I don’t want a story. I want facts. I want the truth.”

Now it was Ryan’s turn to look at him with his eyebrows raised. “Our lives are stories. And what’s a fact to you is a lie to someone else.”

“I don’t know what the hell that means.”

“That’s because you see life as black and white. I see it in colors.”

Holden thinned his lips. There was truth in what his brother said. There was also bullshit. “Go on with your story.”

“So you know the set-up of the place,” Ryan said. “The driveway splitting up, with the house and garage on one side, the barn on the other.”

Holden nodded.

“Thursday night, it was dark out, and there was a quarter moon,” Ryan continued. “The house was dark, too, but there were lights on by the garage, and I recognized a silver BMW parked on the driveway.”

Holden’s shoulders and neck muscles tensed.

“I already had the impression that Sam was gay,” Ryan said. “I asked Abby about it, and she didn’t say she was but didn’t say she wasn’t.”

“Did you ask who Sam’s guest was?”

“Would I do that?”

“Yes.”