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Sawyer stared down at the condensation drops collecting on his third beer and tried to concentrate on the story his brother was telling. Sam’s quiet, soft voice did nothing to hold Sawyer’s attention.
Carmen dominated his thoughts, sneaking back in every time he pulled his mind away. His emotions fluctuated in wild swings from hurt to anger to worry, and his memory tormented him with flashbacks of her long pale limbs, the sounds she made. Had it been nothing? He could not bring himself to believe that was true. Not with the way she made his head spin, how it felt to hold her in his arms. Carmen assured him she was not the type for one-night stands or flings, and he believed her wholeheartedly, still choosing to rush into this thing with her. That she was so different was why he felt safe with her.
“What’s going on with you?” Sam shifted away from where he leaned against the counter and dropped down on a stool, bumping his elbow against Sawyer’s ribs. “Usually, you relish my horror stories.”
“Sorry, man.” Sawyer held out his beer can, and Sam tapped his own against the rim. “Just working through something. I’m glad you’re here.”
“Couldn’t miss sissy’s birthday. I don’t want my ass kicked.”
“True. That’s a terrifying scenario. You and Dad doing okay?”
Sam’s shoulders hunched forward around his ears. “Same Dad, different day.”
“Got it.” Sawyer studied his brother for a moment, assessing him. Sam was an inward person, and often his feelings went unnoticed by the other loud and boisterous family members. There was a gentleness to Sam that frustrated Sawyer sometimes, and other times left him awed. Though Sam was the eldest, Sawyer harboured a protectiveness for him as soon as he was large enough to tell the bullies to shut up.
Once three older boys had pushed Sam to the ground. Sawyer ran up and drove his head into the solar plexus of the largest boy. Then he had begun swinging his backpack wildly at the other two, hollering like a possessed creature. He had been seven years old.
Sam had been so embarrassed, he refused to speak to his brother for weeks after. Until one night, Sawyer grew so upset by Sam’s rebuttal, he cried. That night Sam snuck in after Sawyer was in bed and laid down beside him, hugging him. In the dark, Sam whispered his thanks to his little brother. None of that stopped Sawyer from his duty as a younger brother to torture Sam in any way he saw fit; it just meant others could not do so.
“So . . .” Sam cocked his head at Sawyer and took a swig before setting his can on a coaster their mother left out. “What did you do?”
“Why do you assume—”
Sam shut him up with a well-practised big-brother-knows-all stare.
“I was an idiot,” Sawyer muttered and lifted his beer to his lips.
“Ahh.”
“I upset her, somehow, and she left.”
“Ahh. Well, onwards and upwards, right?”
“No.” Sawyer shook his head. “Not ‘ahh.’ This time is different.”
Sam’s brows rose, and the amusement left his expression as he studied his brother. “It is?”
“Yeah,” Sawyer said. “It sounds crazy, but there is this connection or some shit.” His face flushed, and he drained the beer. “Now she’s gone because I’m an idiot. Something upset her, and I made it about me instead.”
Sam blew a breathy humourless sound through his nostrils. “Well, you do that.”
“Fuck you,” Sawyer said, with no actual heat, and jabbed at a water ring with the tip of his finger, smearing it over the countertop. “I know.”
“Yet, despite that annoying habit, and many others, ladies still love you.” Sam took a napkin from the little wicker holder, wiped up the mess Sawyer was making.
“I don’t want ladies.” Sawyer leaned back on the stool and shoved both hands through his hair. Catching Sam’s gaze, he swallowed against the lump in his throat. “I just want Carmen.”
They stared at each other, equally surprised at Sawyer’s words.
“I’m sure I scared her off because I’m too chicken shit to cope with the actual issue,” Sawyer said at last, hunching back over the counter.
Sam remained quiet as he sipped his beer. Sawyer waited for him to mull things over, watching out of the corner of his eye. Sam was always the thinker. He was so much like their father in that regard. Would he ever learn to stop and think things through as they did?
“So, what is the bigger issue?” Sam asked him at last.
Sawyer swallowed. The answer sat at his lips, waiting for him to gather the courage to speak to them. He should have been honest with Carmen. He should have said these things to her from the start. From the first moment, his heart lit up in his chest at the sight of her, and he knew, he knew something was changing. “She’s leaving.” He did not disguise the strain in his voice. “She’s leaving and thinking about her driving away in that shit box car of hers and leaving me behind is crushing me.”
Sam nodded. “Leaving like Celine?” he spoke so quietly, Sawyer barely made out the words.
Sam met Sawyer’s eyes across the top of his drink. It was like looking into a mirror, except for the worry lines etched around Sam’s eyes and the dark circles of exhaustion beneath them. The stubble on Sam’s jaw had taken on a handful more greys, Sawyer noticed, and guilt swelled anew in him. He hadn’t seen them when they’d gone for drinks last week—he’d been so wrapped up in his life, his excitant about Carmen. He should make more of an effort to see his brother. Maybe he was a selfish bastard.
“Yeah.” Sawyer swallowed against the lump in his throat. “Leaving like Celine.”
“You should go talk to her.” Sam stretched and glanced at the door. Raucous laughter floated through from outside. One by one, everyone else took their drinks and drifted out to watch the children run and play. “This doesn’t have to end badly,” he said. “She’s not Celine.”
“No. She’s not. Carmen made it quite clear I’m not to treat women as if they are all the same.” Sawyer’s lips twisted in painful irony at the memory of his idiocy. “She has some shit going on, but something else happened. I just don’t understand what.”
“Dad said Pam was here?” Sam said after a few contemplative swigs.
Sawyer nodded. “Yeah, she left a while ago. Mom seemed pissed about something, but then you got here and saved the day.”
“She may have been your mother-in-law, but that woman is a colossal bitch.”
“Probably not the first time someone uttered those words in the same sentence,” Sawyer agreed.
“Do you think she had anything to do with your Carmen being upset in the first place? I mean . . . I wouldn’t put it past her.”
Sawyer’s gut clenched. Why had he not given her a chance to talk? They might be back at the apartment right now, curled up in his bed together. He reached out to balance his empty beer can on top of his brother’s.
“I’m going to look for her,” he said.
“I’ll come with you.” Sam jerked his head at the open doors. “Mom and the rest of the ‘Why Isn’t Sam Married’ club are starting to look this way. I would be wise to make an escape before they pounce. All I need is for Sasha to set me up on another blind date.”
Sam shuddered and hooked his sweatshirt off the back of the chair. Sawyer stood. Exhaustion crept into his limbs from out of nowhere. “Sam?”
His brother turned. Waited for him in the doorway with his brow raised.
“If you ever need anything, you know I’m here, right?” Sawyer’s cheeks heated at the clumsy attempt, but he needed to say something. Loneliness, or sadness, maybe it was both, lurked in the depths of Sam’s blue eyes. Sawyer was not sure how long the shadows had been there, and guilt for that joined the rest he was harbouring. A sudden drive to understand Sam better made Sawyer speak up.
Sam looked taken aback. “Yeah. I know.” He cuffed Sawyer’s shoulder as he walked up, turning to leave. Sawyer ignored him and pulled him into a rough hug.
“I love you, man,” he said.
Sam’s swallow was loud in Sawyer’s ear as his arms came up around him, returning the embrace.
****
“WHERE THE HELL IS CARMEN?” Sawyer stood in the middle of his empty living room, looking around like a gorgeous redhead was going to melt out of the woodwork.
Sam shrugged. “Maybe she decided to walk for a while? Is there anywhere else she would go?”
Sawyer shook his head. “She doesn’t know anyone else here.” Fear burned in Sawyer’s throat. If Billy touched her, so help him. He ground his teeth in impotent frustration, hating the fact he let her take off on her own. What was wrong with him?
He started pacing the room. “Her ex followed her from the city. He accosted her in her hotel room. Carm seems to think he’s harmless, but I don’t know if that’s true.”
Sam frowned. “He followed her? The guy who hit her? That’s sketchy.”
Sawyer threw his hands into the air. “Thank you! That is a normal reaction to have. Carmen seems to think it’s no big deal.”
Sam was already shaking his head. “No, that isn’t right. She should call the cops.”
“That’s not even all, he—” Sawyer’s phone chimed, and he scrambled to pull it from his pocket. “It’s Chuck.” He stared at the text on the tiny screen.
Carmen is safe with me. We’re discussing boys. And how annoying they are.
Sawyer let out a shaky breath and pushed the hair from his face. “She’s with Chuck.”
Sam nodded, releasing a breath. “Good. Should we go meet them?”
“No, they are busy talking about what a dick I am.”
Sam tapped his finger against the back of the couch. “In that case, they may be out all night.” He flashed Sawyer a forced smile and picked at a loose thread on the upholstery.
Sawyer frowned, noticing the change in his brother’s demeanour now that some of the worries had left him. “What’s bothering you?” he asked.
Sam gave his head a quick shake, the gesture of a man pulling himself out of a daydream. “Nothing. Tired is all. Been on night shifts. It always takes me a while to adjust to life in the daylight. I’m like a vampire, minus the sexy, mysterious air girls seem to like.”
Sawyer frowned. He did not believe him. Sam had a quality that allowed him to shut others out, a calm facade that said, “don’t pry.” He had been that way since childhood, shutting himself off when their dad pushed him too hard, when a girl broke his heart. As a kid, Sawyer enjoyed pushing Sam, seeing how far it could go before his big brother would snap. It became a game to see what it took to pull some emotion to the surface. After the second black eye, though, Sawyer learned his lesson.
“You should stay at Mom and Dad’s.” He gestured to the couch. The thing was half-hidden in bedding and a scattering of Carmen’s things. “Or here?” he added with less conviction.
Sam wrinkled his nose at the mess. “No offence, but I think I’ll take Mom and Dad’s.”
“None taken.” Sawyer cast his brother a wry glance. “Not going to lie to you, I have no idea what is going to go down here tonight. It may not be pretty.”
“Hopefully, she doesn’t murder you.”
“Well, if she does, you’ll wish you stayed. Maybe you could have saved me.”
Sam laughed. “I’ll surely regret my decisions. Spend the rest of my days in a guilt-fuelled bender.” He glanced at the door. “Did Chuck say if she was coming back with Carmen?”
“No. She didn’t say much, just that they were together.”
“All right. I guess I should head out.”
Sawyer studied his brother. Watching Sam yawn, he promised himself he would make more of an effort to connect with his brother. “I’ll drive you back to Mom and Dad’s.”
“Nah, I’ll walk. You wait for Carmen.”
Sam was almost out the door when Sawyer put an arm across the jam, barring his exit. “Promise me you won’t drive home tonight? Stay over there and rest. Let Mom pamper you in the morning for a while.”
Sam looked back at Sawyer for a long moment, his expression unreadable, but finally he nodded. “I will stay, I promise.”