The Billionaire Boyfriend Proposal: A Kavanagh Family Novel (10 page)

Blake didn't say much. He watched proceedings
warily and from a distance until it was time for the toast. As
Reece's best man, he announced it. There were no speeches,
something Cleo and Reece had wanted. Cleo claimed it felt more like
an informal family affair that way. The mention of family had me
once more wishing I was home, sitting on my faded floral sofa
watching TV.

If anyone understood how I felt it would be
Robbie. I joined him by the large marble fireplace where he was
admiring an expensive looking statue of lovers kissing. He looked
up when I approached, startled.

"I'm not casing the place. Honest!"

I smiled. "I know. If you stole anything from
here, Ellen would have you castrated."

"These sorts of homes have security systems
inside security systems. And getting rid of something like this
would be next to impossible unless you had contacts in the black
market."

I arched an eyebrow at him. "Speaking from
experience?"

"No! Christ." He sipped his drink and
surveyed the collection of Kavanaghs in the room. "Don't let anyone
hear you say that, okay?"

"Are you ready to go home?"

"It's still early. Blake might want to stay
longer."

I sighed. Yeah, he probably did. It would be
unfair to ask him to leave. I caught him watching me out of the
corner of his eye. Reece, standing with him, said something but
Blake seemed not to have heard him. Reece followed his brother's
gaze to me. He sighed heavily.

"So that's the guy who broke your sister's
heart?" Robbie said softly.

I nodded and stared down into the unlit
fireplace.

"I heard you tell Blake earlier that you
don't think he's changed. But he seems pretty happy to me, and so
does Cleo. Maybe Blake's right."

"I hope he is," I said. "Because I don't want
to see Cleo get hurt. She's been through a lot and she's an amazing
person. She deserves to be happy."

"Doesn't everyone?"

I watched Reece from beneath lowered lashes.
"I'm not sure about that."

A few minutes later, Blake disappeared and
Reece walked over to me. I looked around, panicked, but I had
nowhere to hide and my exit was blocked. "Can we talk somewhere
privately?" he asked.

"That depends on what you want to talk
about."

"About Blake mostly."

"Then no."

"Okay. We'll talk here in front of everyone
instead."

I clicked my tongue. "Fine. We'll go outside.
I've got something I want to say to you too."

We headed past the others, now openly
watching us, and through the French doors. Blake was still nowhere
to be seen. We found a shadowy corner near the pool hut where no
one could see us. The smell of chlorine mingled with the prettier,
stronger scent of tropical late-blooming gardenias.

"What did you want to say to me?" he asked.
At my protest, he added, "Ladies, first."

"I just wanted to warn you not to hurt Cleo.
I like her, but I don't like how besotted she is with you."

"It might surprise you that I'm just as
besotted."

"Are you?" It came out sneering, and I
regretted that. It wasn't how I liked to fight my battles. I
preferred facts and it was those I would throw in his face. "You
forget that I know you Reece Kavanagh. I've known you a long time
and I remember how you treated my sister and how you treated every
girl since her."

He winced, as if I'd slapped him across the
cheek. "This is different. Cleo is different. I hoped you could see
that and begin to heal."

"Heal?" I scoffed. "Don't patronize me,
Reece."

"You're hurting, Cassie. Everyone can see it
except you. You never recovered from Wendy's death and then your
Gran's. Lyle hasn't helped—"

I turned away and went to walk off, but he
grabbed my elbow.

"I haven't said my piece yet," he said.

"Then get on with it."

His grip eased. In the darkness I could just
make out the shine in his eyes, the downturn of his mouth. "Blake
is hurting too, Cassie. The army wasn't a good place for him in his
state of mind. He won't admit it, but I know him and I know he
missed you like crazy."

A hot ball of tears clogged my throat, but I
managed to swallow it down. "Then he shouldn't have left
Serendipity Bend," I snapped. "He made his choice eight years ago
and he chose you, not me. Forgive me, Reece, but I don't want a guy
who always puts me second."

I wrenched free and ran off. He called after
me, but I ignored him as I ran along the gravel path lined with the
dark shapes of bushes. I'd trodden that path many times as a kid
and each pounding step took me back to my childhood. I ducked under
the overhanging tree branch and when I reached the swing tree, I
veered off to the left, away from the path. Spindly branches lashed
at my legs and clawed at my dress. The fence separating our
properties emerged from the shadows like an impenetrable wall. I
counted along five posts and scrabbled for the latch. The gate
swung open and I stepped through.

Tears streaked down my cheeks and blurred my
vision. My heart hammered in my chest, and not just from the
exertion. It hurt, damn it. It ached for Wendy. Damn Reece. I
didn't want to feel this way anymore, but every time I saw him or
got close to Blake, I felt like I was being dragged back to a dark
and painful place. A place of loneliness where I was continuously
picking up the pieces of my life after somebody left.

I ran toward the house, knowing I had little
time before Blake discovered I was gone. A light was on inside. I
must have forgotten to switch it off before we left. I unlocked the
back door and wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand. I threw my
keys and bag onto the table just as a shadow passed over it.

My heart slammed to a halt. I looked up,
straight into a face I recognized.

CHAPTER 7

"Hello, Cassie."

"Lyle! What are you doing here?"

My brother tucked his hands high up under his
armpits as if he were trying to keep them warm. He looked older
than the last time I'd seen him and much thinner. His eyes were
bloodshot, his hair lank as it hung over his face like bloody
string. The muscles along his jaw and around his mouth twitched. I
didn't have a lot of experience with drugs, but my guess was that
he was high.
Oh Lyle. Not again.

"I came home to see you," he said.

I wiped away the remnants of my tears and
blew my nose into a tissue. If Lyle noticed my distress, he didn't
say anything. Knowing him, he probably didn't see what would have
been plain to everyone else. To be perfectly blunt, my brother was
a selfish asshole.

He used to care. When our parents died, he
cried just like the rest of us. But after a month, he'd brushed off
his mourning as if it had been an annoying bug. As the eldest West
sibling, he should have taken care of his little sisters, but he'd
hardly even noticed us. Gran had to do everything, including call
the police on him one night when the drugs he'd taken had driven
him into a rage. She'd raised us while he'd thrown away his
family's love and descended into a drug-induced hell. His leaving
had been a blessing. I couldn't cope with his increasingly sullen
moods and occasional rages. My life had at least gotten easier
after he left.

Until he'd sold off the house. Despite
promising Gran that he wouldn't throw me out after he inherited, he
still sold it to Reece who then tried to evict me.

"Why?" I scoffed. "You can afford a place of
your own or at least a hotel room for a night. Reece must have paid
a fortune for this place."

He lifted one shoulder. "It's all gone."

"WHAT?"

"Jesus, Cassie, calm down. It was my
money."

"You didn't save any of it?"

Another shrug.

"What did you spend it on? Drugs? Gambling?
Fast cars?"

"All of the above and fast women too." He
gave me a smug grin.

Red flashed before my eyes. My blood boiled
in my veins. How dare he! How dare he be so cavalier about the
damage he'd left behind in his wake? It was one thing to sell off
the family legacy, but it was another to squander the money he
earned from it.

"How could you!" I shouted. "Don't you have
any sense of responsibility? Of family?"

His top lip peeled back. He lowered his hands
to his sides, balling them into fists. "You're not Mom," he said in
a low, grating tone. "You don't get to tell me what I can and can't
do with my money, my life. If I want to spend it having a good time
then I will, damn it."

All the pent-up frustration and anger that
had built inside me at the Kavanagh house—that had been building
over several
years
—exploded out of me. I pounded my fists
against his chest, tried to claw his face. I wanted to hurt him
like he'd hurt Gran and me. I wanted to make him see that he was
wasting his life, just like Wendy had. How could he not see that
what he was doing to himself was as destructive as what she'd done?
She had destroyed herself and he would too.

I wanted him to see that he had only one
living family member left in the world and she needed him.

I began to sob uncontrollably. My punches
weakened and he was able to grab my wrists. He held them hard, his
fingers cutting off the blood supply. I gasped and tried to pull
free, but couldn't.

Then I did the only thing in my power to do.
I kneed him in the balls. He let me go to clutch himself. I backed
away and picked up a lamp from the table. The shade fell off, but
it was the heavy brass base I wanted. "Don't do that again," I
said.

He straightened with a grunt of pain. "Don't
make me feel guilty, Cass. I refuse to live like you do."

What did he mean by that?

The front door rattled and opened. "Cassie?"
came Blake's panicked voice. "Cassie, where are you? Are you all
right?"

"Here," I called back.

Blake raced through the doorway and paused.
In the instant it took him to size up the situation, his eyes
narrowed to slits, his face darkened. He bared his teeth in a
snarl. "Cassie, I want to hit him, but I won't if you ask me not
to."

I thought about it. I really did. But I shook
my head. "Let him go. I already hit him anyway."

His gaze slipped to mine and some of the
rigidity seemed to leave his body. He came to stand beside me and a
little in front, protective.

"Thank you," I felt compelled to say.

He blinked at me then turned a hard gaze on
Lyle. The two of them stared each other down, but neither got a
chance to say anything before footsteps approached. We heard
Robbie's voice before we saw him.

"Slow down, Blake." He hesitated in the
doorway and frowned at Lyle. "Did Skull send you?"

"Who?" Lyle asked.

"Never mind," I said. "Robbie, this is my
brother, Lyle. Lyle this is Robbie. He's staying here awhile."

"Yeah? Why?"

"None of your business," Blake snapped.

Lyle's jaw clenched. "It's my—" He cut
himself short. He'd been going to say 'my house.'

I crossed my arms and gave him a triumphant
look. "Oh, you finally remembered that you sold this place out from
under me?"

"It was mine to sell."

"Where was I going to live? Did you think
about that?"

"You would have found something else."

"This was my
home
, Lyle. Our family
has been here for generations. You may not feel connected to it,
but I do. For God's sake, there are memorials to our parents and
sister in the rose garden!"

He had the decency to look away. Beside me,
Blake shifted his weight, the movement drawing him closer to me.
Having him near gave me the confidence to say the things to Lyle
that I'd wanted to say for years.

Robbie disappeared into the kitchen, maybe to
give us some space. The room still felt crowded even without him in
it. It wasn't just Lyle that had me feeling that way, it was the
presence of too many family ghosts.

"You'll be pleased to know that Reece isn't
going to tear the house down like he originally intended," I said.
"I'm renting it off him. Do you know what that means, Lyle?"

"What?" he asked, sullen.

"It means I can throw you out."

He wiped the back of his hand across his
mouth and nodded at Blake. "Your gorilla going to do it for
you?"

I said nothing. Blake didn't move. He was as
still as a mountain and just as immovable. He didn't take his sharp
gaze off Lyle.

"You know," Lyle said, much too casually for
my liking, "I'm surprised you two got back together."

"We haven't," I said.

Beside me, Blake swallowed loudly.

"Really? Huh. Bet that's killing you,
Kavanagh. The way you rushed in here just now, it seemed like you
were living here too. Also seemed like you were worried about my
little sister."

Blake didn't bite. He was better than that.
It was as if Lyle's words just slipped right off him.

"It's a little too late to worry about her,"
Lyle went on. "Maybe you should have thought about her welfare
eight years ago."

Blake stood so close to me that I could feel
his body tense.

"Lyle," I warned.

"Do you know how hurt she was when you
left?"

"Lyle!"

"Do you know that she cried herself to sleep
every night for months?"

"Lyle, stop it!"

But he ignored me. Worse, Blake wasn't
telling him to be quiet. He was listening to every word without a
sound.

"Months." Lyle punched out the word. "Seems
to me like your caring attitude is way too late, Kavanagh. You ran
away when she needed you most. You left her alone with an old woman
and a nutcase for a brother and a well of sadness so deep it's
taken her years to climb out. Alone, I might add."

To my surprise, tears shone in Lyle's eyes. A
little door in my heart that I thought I'd shut, opened. I didn't
know he'd noticed my grief as he fell into his own pit. I didn't
know he'd cared about anyone other than himself.