Chapter Seven

Sophia’s heart raced like she’d run ten flights of stairs. She felt like a kid again, huddled by the banister at the top of the stairs, listening to her brother and Declan talk. When they were little, if their parents fought, the girls would get up and listen at the railing. Marcus would shoo them back to bed like the bossy big brother he was. She hadn’t appreciated, at the time, that he was trying to spare her from something. Part of the problem with her family, part of what sent her running, was they’d always been trying to spare her from something. And she’d been desperate to experience anything her own way. You definitely achieved that goal.

“Really? We been friends for twenty years, and you can’t tell me when you’re getting serious about someone?” Marcus’s voice still held a hint of amusement.

Pressure built in Sophia’s chest, and she tried to breathe through it. She missed her family. And now she’d put Declan between herself and his friend—his business partner. She couldn’t believe Marc was even in on this venture with Declan. He was Papa’s right-hand man. The oldest. The good son. Though her brother was the one who kept in closest contact with her, he was also the one who’d been hardest on her after she left, even showing up once to try and bring her home.

“Drop it, man. What’s going on? Why you here?”

“Here’s your hat, what’s your hurry?” Marcus laughed, and the sound carried up to the second floor of Declan’s home.

Sophia pressed her head against the cool wooden slat of the banister. Memories of laughter and silliness, family dinners and special occasions ran like a movie reel in her head. She wanted that back. Then quit being a chicken and go down there. Not yet. She had a job, but she hadn’t sorted anything else, and when she faced them, she wanted to be able to say “I’m okay” and have it look true.

“My parents want to do an anniversary thing for Pops. I did it. I told dad about the beer. Thought we could combine the two things—break out the beer on the night of the celebration. What do you think? It’s in two weeks. We can test it out, and if it goes over well, I’ll tell my dad what our plans are.”

Sophia breathed quietly, hoping she didn’t give herself away. Declan was obviously keeping her brother in the foyer in hopes he wouldn’t stay long.

“Wait, you said you told your dad,” Declan said.

“Yeah. About the beer. I said it was something you were working on, but I talked it up huge. I didn’t tell him that I helped create it.”

Sophia shook her head. Her brother was turning thirty-three this year. He had a wife and kids. Why was he still scared to tell his father he wanted to do something on his own? Maybe for the same reason you’re hiding up here like a kid and didn’t go home tonight.

“Jesus, man. What are you scared of? Tell your dad we created a kick-ass beer that he can sell in the pizzeria. I’m ready to roll it out. I don’t mind the two-week mark, and I bet S—” Declan stopped talking, and Sophia’s heart raced. The silence was deafening.

“You bet what?” Marcus asked.

“Uh. Nothing. I bet we can advertise it. Make a big deal out of it for the next couple weeks at the pub and Pop’s. We’ll get a good crowd between the tasting and the anniversary party. If it hits the spot with people, we can both start serving it up and see what Kenny says about doing the next batch. About renting the vat permanently. Speaking of which, we need a name, man.”

“You don’t get it. My dad’s blood pressure is through the roof. I’m not putting him under more stress before I have to. All I wanted was for us to make a beer we could be proud of and share it. We’re doing that. Don’t judge unless you’ve been there, man.”

“I didn’t realize Pop wasn’t feeling well. I’m sorry.”

Little splinters lodged in Sophia’s chest. Would it make it worse that she was home? Go down there and find out. But she was so tired. She continued to sit on the plush carpet of Declan’s second floor, urging herself to grow up, go downstairs, and say, I’m home. What can I do? Would their relief at finally getting what they wanted—her home—be strong enough to repair the rift she’d created by forging her own path? She just wasn’t ready to find out.

Moving like a fly through honey, she stood and went quietly to the bedroom Declan said she could stay in. She lay on the bed and stared out the window at the stars dotting the inky black sky. The murmur of voices traveled up the stairs, but none of the words were distinct. It soothed her, in some weird way, to have her brother’s voice, his masculine laugh, in the background, despite the turmoil kicking up a storm inside of her.

She closed her eyes, inhaling the scent of laundry soap from the pillow case. Fatigue pressed harder, and she gave in, tired of fighting absolutely everything. She wasn’t sure how long she’d drifted off for, but Sophia knew Declan was in the room when she opened her eyes. Even though she was facing away from the door, it was as if her body alerted to his presence.

“Is he gone?” Her voice came out scratchy.

“Yeah. You okay?”

She didn’t roll over. Her heart tripped when he came around the bed and sat on the edge of it, his hip against her stomach. Neither of them said anything when their gazes locked. It irritated her that tears threatened, clogging her throat.

“It’s probably not my place to say anything, but I think your family would want to know you’re home. Sooner, rather than later.”

She nodded and averted her eyes. His deep sigh felt like another scoop of disappointment tossed her way. He clasped his hands and dropped his chin to his chest.

“I didn’t mean to put you in such an awkward position. I just needed to get my feet under me, make sure I had a job at the very least before I told them I’m home. I understand if you don’t want me to stay here. I just need a couple of days to…settle.”

He didn’t move other than to turn his head so they could see each other. “Take as long as you need. I mean that. And seriously, you have the job. You can take a few days to get organized before you go full tilt at the pub.”

Because being so close to him was distracting her, she pushed into a sitting position, her back against the padded headboard.

“I want to be at the pub; I do. And I appreciate you not mentioning to my brother that I’m here. I really am sorry I forced that on you.”

“Sophe,” he said, his lips tipping up. “No one forces me to do anything. I think we have that in common.”

She grinned at the old nickname as much as the sentiment. “Maybe. But I appreciate it all the same.”

“You need a friend. I was serious about that, too. I’m here.”

She nodded, grateful to the point of not being able to push words past her throat.

“Why now?” He tilted his head, stared at her.

“What do you mean?”

“Come on. Something brought you home now. It can’t be just a breakup or losing your job. I’d heard things were going well. You were engaged to this guy.”

She closed her eyes, breathed through the dull ache the words brought out. Not because she missed him or she was sorry they were over, but because she didn’t understand how she missed all the signs. How she’d been so stupid.

“Yeah. But that hardly made me special…since he was married to someone else.”

“Jesus Christ.” His hand flexed on the blanket, his eyes narrowing.

“I didn’t know,” she said. She forced herself to meet his gaze. She needed to see that he believed her words.

“Of course you didn’t. And he actually proposed to you?”

She gave a wry smile. “Delay tactic.”

“Asshole.”

Her lips twitched. “That, too.” He hadn’t always been. Not in the beginning. She comforted herself with that thought because it was easier than thinking she’d just been too blind to see the truth.

“Is that all?”

Sophia looked toward the window. She should tell him, really test his theory that they could be friends. Friends unloaded on each other, and what she had weighing her down could use an outlet. But she wasn’t ready. And he’d already done too much. No need to rush. She had plenty of time.

“Sophia?”

Unwilling to be a complete coward, she looked him in the eyes. “I had a good job. I liked my life. I wish leaving hadn’t caused a rift with my family, but I never wanted to grow old spinning pizzas. My…ex…we worked together. He split his time between the Arizona and El Paso offices, so I had no idea. His wife lives in El Paso. His Arizona life showed no signs of him being a married man. Long story short, I lost my fiancé, my job, and my dignity all in the same week. As a cherry on top, he slowly cleaned out my savings account.”

Declan sighed. “I’m sorry, Sophia.”

She shrugged, not wanting his pity. She might not always make the right choices, but she owned up to them. “That’s life. It’s messy and complicated. People lie. They walk away from their family and screw up. And then they come home, hoping they still belong.” Her voice cracked, and before she could pull herself together, Declan wrapped his arms around her as though he could feel how much she needed a hug. He’s just comforting you. That’s all. Telling herself that, she gave in and took what he offered. What she needed. She closed her eyes, trying to inhale his strength and his warmth so she could carry it with her through the days ahead.

“It’s going to be okay. You know that, right?”

She didn’t answer him. She’d stopped lying to herself long ago. And she had no intention of lying to him.