Falling for Mr. Wrong (16 page)

Chapter Seventeen

Over the next week, Ross was glad he had Brit and Tori’s visit to hold out to the kids, because otherwise they would have driven him crazy asking about Kelsey. Where she was. If they could call her. If she would take them climbing. He told them she was busy. They’d said their good-byes when he dropped her off at her house in Boulder, and she’d managed to be completely noncommittal about any future visits. He had the feeling she wasn’t used to good-byes any more than she was used to children throwing themselves into her arms, or awkward teenage boys desperately wanting a hug but being too scared to ask for it. She’d given them hugs and smiles, but managed not to make any promises about the future.

He appreciated what she was trying to do. And he hated it, too.

He had held out for about six hours before giving in to the need to hear her voice. He called as soon as the kids were asleep. The call went to her voice mail. Five minutes later, she called back.

“We have two weeks,” he said. “I need to see you again.”

“When?” she’d answered. “Where?”

They met at her house or his office. They made love on his desk, her couch, her bed, even his bed when he knew Hope and the kids would be out for the day. Their coupling was hard and needy. They didn’t talk afterward.

One day, they met at a coffee shop. He told her that he was moving forward with the plans for the resort. She told him they were autographing copies of their pictures for Artisan, and trying to decide whether it was worth the extra five pounds to bring along an additional tank of oxygen. They were spinning in two different universes, and they knew it, so they didn’t bother with small talk again. Just went back to her house, held each other, and made fierce, passionate love.

Late Sunday afternoon, Brit, Tori, and little Patrick arrived. They’d rented a car, and when they pulled up the kids ran out of the house and pounced on them before they’d even gotten to the front door. It had only been three weeks since he’d seen his brother, but in that time somehow Brit had changed. He seemed older somehow, and there was something in his eyes Ross didn’t recognize. Tori, on the other hand, hadn’t changed a bit. She was the same tiny, curvy spitfire that Ross had known immediately was the only woman who could ever hope to stand up to his brother. After a hearty hug that pulled her feet right off the floor, she and the kids went down into the basement to entertain Paddy, while Ross pulled a beer from the fridge and handed it to his brother.

Brit was a few inches taller than he was, with a hook in his nose from a long-forgotten fight, and a leaner frame than Ross. The brothers shared the same Bencher blue eyes, and thick, inky black hair. Now, though, Brit looked tired. Something in his usual brash confidence was missing.

“How was the flight?” Ross asked. “How did Paddy do?”

“He screamed a lot,” Brit said, rubbing a hand across his eyes. “What did you do with your three on planes? I thought I was going to lose my mind.”

Ross laughed. “We didn’t fly. I was twenty-two when Luke was born. We didn’t have any money. Where would we have gone?”

“Oh. Right.” Brit slumped into a chair.

“Are you okay?” Ross asked. His brother didn’t just seem tired. Something more lurked behind his eyes.

“It’s been a tough couple of weeks.” He twisted off the cap and took a long drink from the beer.

Ross felt a twinge of alarm. “Is everyone okay? Mom and Dad? Melissa? Lizzie?”

“They’re fine. We had a little scare with Paddy. I didn’t want to worry you.”

“What happened?” Ross sank down into a chair beside his brother.

Brit stared down at the bottle. “It was just a virus. He started running a fever and it spiked up fast. Before we knew it he was running 104, 104.5, 104.9 and it wouldn’t come down. Apparently the fever triggered a seizure, because the next thing I knew he was shaking and…” He trailed off. Ross’s gut twisted in sympathy. “We called the ambulance,” he continued, voice thick. “They said it was normal, but then he had another one while he was at the hospital, so they decided they needed to admit him. Just to be safe.”

“Shit, that sounds horrible.” Ross leaned forward. “He’s okay now?”

Brit nodded, picking absently at the label on the beer. “They say febrile seizures are pretty common at his age, especially with a fever that high. The fact that he had several in a row was worrying, but they did a million tests and everything came back normal. They don’t think it’s epilepsy, or anything chronic. Just a bad fever.”

“That reminds me of one of Luke’s episodes,” Ross said. “He used to run these high fevers for days on end, sometimes with no other symptoms, and they had us worried about all sorts of things. Things you don’t say out loud.” He shivered at the memory. “But he’s fine now. A little grumpy and occasionally disrespectful, but otherwise fine.”

Brit stood up and paced around the kitchen. “How did you do it? I mean, you were twenty-two. How the hell did you handle it all?”

Ross squinted at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Look at me,” Brit said, pointing at his chest and shaking his head. “I’m a mess. I worry about Paddy constantly—especially now. Every time he coughs I imagine he’s getting sick again. Every time his cheeks look flushed I imagine him having another seizure. But I’m thirty-five, with steady work and plenty of money. You were just a broke kid. I can’t imagine how hard it must have been.”

“It’s all part of being a parent, I suppose. Doesn’t matter how old you are, or how much money you have.” Ross tried to remember what it was like back then, when Luke was young and everything felt like a potential disaster. “You just have to keep telling yourself that you’ll get through it. That as fragile as they seem, babies are incredibly resilient.” He flashed a smile to break the mood. “And you should get pregnant again. Nothing stops you from hovering over baby number one like baby number two.”

Brit shuddered. “Tori says the same thing. It’s like she’s already forgotten that she was in a hospital bed screaming for twelve straight hours with the first one. I’m not sure I can go through it all again.”

“Of course you can.” Ross looked at his brother then, and it was as if a filter had been lifted from the lens of a camera, and he was seeing someone he’d never seen before. Not the brother he’d always emulated and feared. Not some business tycoon or hard-driving father figure. Just an ordinary man. A man who worried about his wife and kids. “Listen to your wife. She’s always been smarter than you.”

Brit laughed, and a little of the mood lightened. “When did you know things had gone wrong with Jenna?” he asked a moment later.

“You mean, with our marriage?” Ross asked, surprised by the question.

“Yeah. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” Brit added hastily. “I just realized that we never really talked about it.”

It was a strange conversation, but felt oddly comfortable. “Right from the start,” Ross replied. “And never. All at once. But you can’t regret it, or second-guess. I’ve been incredibly lucky.”

This answer, though hardly intelligible, seemed to satisfy Brit. “You’ve done a great job with it. Managing the divorce. Taking care of the kids. Sharing custody with Jenna. Doing it all on your own. It never occurred to me how hard it all must have been for you until I was in the hospital with Paddy. I thought about you doing all this when you were so young. I don’t think you ever asked for help—not once—from any of us. Which was probably smart, because I probably wouldn’t have been the least bit helpful.”

He trailed off, a faint smile on his lips. “Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that your kids are fantastic, and I think you’re a hell of a dad. I’ll be lucky if I do half as good a job. And I appreciate your not telling me what an idiot I’ve been all these years.”

Ross gaped at his brother, the words so unexpected he found himself flustered and unsure how to respond.

Luckily, he was saved from saying something utterly idiotic by the appearance of Tori at the entrance to the kitchen. “Don’t worry, Ross,” she said. “I tell him he’s an idiot so you don’t have to.” Her hair was a wavy cloud around her head, and she held a wriggling Paddy on one hip and an enormous diaper bag over one shoulder. She looked rumpled and tired, but nothing ever seemed to dull the pulse of energy that sparked around her. “Speaking of which, Brit, did you get Paddy’s playpen set up, or did you spend all your time drinking with your brother?”

Just like that, the sad edge fell away from Brit’s countenance. His shoulders relaxed as he smiled at Tori. “Ah, my sweet bride. It’s lovely to see you too.”

She had to stand on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek, even as she handed over Paddy and the bag. There was no malice in her tone, and she grinned at Ross as she spoke. “Forget it. You boys keep talking. I’ll get the playpen set up.”

When they left, Brit pawed around in the diaper bag and withdrew a bottle. Paddy lunged for it and Brit chuckled, positioning the baby to recline in his arms as he held the bottle. “So how’s business?” he said to Ross, as if they hadn’t been in the midst of a strangely emotional conversation just a few minutes before. “Weren’t you going to contact some guy out here to work with? Herriot something or other?”

For the first time in years—or perhaps the first time ever—Ross relaxed in his brother’s company. “Actually, I’ve got a problem with that. Maybe you can help me decide what to do.”

Brit raised an eyebrow. “Really? You want my advice?”

Ross laughed. “Really.” He explained the dilemma with Stagefeather and Herriot, and his concept of developing a family-friendly, Western-style resort on the land.

Brit bounced Paddy over his shoulder as Ross spoke. “How exactly did you convince Stagefeather you weren’t just another East Coast jerk, come to rape and pillage his land?”

Ross thought of Kelsey, and the way she’d taken him camping in a very subtle ploy to fall in love with Stagefeather’s land. He pictured her taking the kids swimming, the way Matt had marveled at the sight of an elk, and the feeling of peace he’d had when he listened to the wind swaying in the pines. “I told him I had a local guide to teach me about the land.”

“And do you?”

Ross looked away. “Sort of.”

Brit cleared his throat. “Is this local female, by any chance?”

“I’d rather not talk about it.”

“I see. Definitely female.”

Ross rolled his eyes. “Did I not just say I didn’t want to talk about it?”

Brit frowned. “That bad?”

“
Really
rather not talk about it,” Ross repeated.

Brit nodded. “Must be that bad.”

“Brit!”

He grinned. “You know how it is. Suckers like me enjoy seeing other men cross to our side of the road.”

“There will be no crossing,” Ross said grimly. “We’re all wrong for each other. It’s like Selena Gomez and her brother on the
Wizards of Waverly Place
.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

Ross was suddenly in desperate need of a drink. “You see? I’m making references to the Disney Channel, while she’s hanging at the rock gym listening to Pitbull.”

“She sounds hot.”

“Of course she’s hot. Haven’t you been listening? She’s the fantasy you have when you’re twenty-two and single.”

Brit observed him for a moment with a thoughtful gaze before continuing. “But you like her. And she likes you.”

“It’s complicated.” Ross threw back his chair and began to pace the room. “Can we please change the subject?”

“Fine. Then if I understand correctly, you’ve got a great business model with strong revenue projections, a local guide who can help you with the concept, and a lock on a relationship with a key landowner.”

Ross nodded. “That sounds about right. Except Kelsey’s leaving in a few days.”

A pause stretched out between them. Brit waited, but Ross was already kicking himself for saying as much as he had and he certainly wasn’t going to say anything more. Finally, Brit continued, “But if you work with this Herriot guy you’ll feel like crap and alienate a whole community?”

“Again, I think you understand pretty well.”

“Then why not build the damn thing yourself? Cut out the middleman and go right to the suppliers and subcontractors. They won’t shut you out if you’re offering them a job.”

Ross sighed, pushing Kelsey firmly out of his mind. “I thought about it, but I don’t have the capital. I invested in two new developments in New Jersey before Jenna got the job and can’t do another big deal right now.”

“But say you did have the cash. What would you do then?”

“Why?” Ross narrowed his gaze. “What’s this all about?” He stood up and took Paddy from Brit’s arms. He smiled at his nephew, who grinned in response and grabbed Ross’s nose.

Brit picked up his beer and took a final slug. “You know Tori and I are always looking for new business opportunities. I don’t know a blessed thing about building a resort, but I’ve got money in the bank and there’s no one I would rather give it to.”

The suggestion was as heartening as it was unexpected. “You know I won’t give up control to some loudmouthed New Yorker,” Ross said, financial projections and potential return on investment analyses abruptly running through his brain.

“Spoken like a true loudmouthed New Yorker,” Brit said with an approving nod. “Don’t worry, Tori and I would be silent partners. I wouldn’t have the faintest idea how to run a project like this. I’d leave that to you. And I fully expect a profit on this deal. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t invest in it.”

“It’s a hell of an offer.” Ross wasn’t sure how to respond. He’d never considered going into business with his brother. A few weeks ago, the prospect would have been impossible, almost insulting. But now, it sounded…right.

Like coming home, a thousand miles away.

“Think about it,” Brit said. “You’ve got a great concept. We just need to find a way to make it happen.” He put his arm around Ross’s neck and gave him an affectionate squeeze. “And maybe later we’ll have a few beers and you can tell me exactly where this Kelsey is headed, and why you’re letting her go without you.”