Dane stared at her. She recognized that look . . . He was deeply upset. He could never stand for her to be mad at him. Not when they were kids, or teens, or young adults, and apparently still not now. He said nothing, just stared at her with rounded eyes and flushed cheeks. She could never stay mad when he looked that way, like a lost little boy . . . It made her temper simmer down.
The sound of the front door opening and closing made her shudder. Logan . . . God, the look on his face. After a night like last night, why’d this have to happen? He’d come to her for her comfort, she’d tried to give him what he’d needed, and then to have to leave like this . . . Damn, what horrible timing.
She huffed out a sigh. “I’m going to tell you all what’s going on,” she finally said. “I haven’t told anyone. But I’ll tell you. And you’ll listen until I’m done talking, and you won’t give me an ounce of grief, or I’ll lose my shit like you’ve never seen. Okay?”
“Okay,” Pierce said. He glanced toward the refrigerator. “Can I get a snack first?”
She breathed out a weary laugh, her tense shoulders relaxing some. “Go for it.”
As Pierce went to the fridge, she went to Dane and hugged him. He immediately hugged her back. “I’m sorry,” he said against her hair.
“Me too,” she said. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”
“We deserved it.” He rubbed her back. “If someone came bursting into my kitchen, unexpectedly breaking up a happy morning after, I’d be pissed off too.” He pulled back to look down at her. “Sooo . . . Logan Carter? Really?”
“The guy’s like a mountain,” Pierce said as he opened a bottle of water. “His muscles have muscles. At least you found a guy tall enough for you.” He leaned a hip against the center island and winked.
“Just didn’t think he was your type,” Dane said.
“Good for you,” Pierce said. “Why not?”
She rolled her eyes and said, “It’s not what you guys think.”
“He’s a good man, from what I know of him.” Charles went to the cupboard to pull out a mug. “I was rude. I’m not proud of it. I’ll find him and apologize, today. I’ll make it right.” He crossed to the Keurig. “Coffee, anyone?”
“I’m going to get dressed,” Tess said. “Meet you all in the living room.” She left the kitchen, heart still beating fast, mind spinning out. She hoped Logan wasn’t too upset. Or that her brothers wouldn’t be when she told them what’d been going on.
* * *
Logan glanced at the phone as it rang yet again. All three of the Harrison brothers had tried to call over the course of the day, leaving apologetic voice mails that sounded sincere. He was sure they were; the Harrison brothers were decent men, and he did appreciate their attempts at a cease-fire. But the run-in had only served to undermine his growing restless agitation. He wasn’t part of Tess’s world. He wasn’t even her boyfriend or her real lover. He was her fake boyfriend, her friend, and her damn sperm donor. That was it, and he’d be way better off to remember that.
He’d gone to the gym straight from Tess’s house that morning, needing to get out some aggression on the punching bag and the treadmill. A hot shower after that, then he went to work. He’d been too busy to answer calls or texts. And there had been several texts from Tess, trying to reach him throughout the day. He’d ignored them.
By after dinner, her new text lanced his heart and made him feel guilty as hell. Please talk to me. I’m concerned about you. I care. Don’t shut me out. Please.
He sighed. This was a mess. This whole thing was a mess, and his mother was dying. But Tess . . . She deserved better than what he was giving her at the moment. Lying on his couch in the darkened living room, with only the flickering light from the TV, he muted the volume of the hockey game and called her.
“Hi. At last, there you are.” Her voice was filled with relief, obviously glad to hear from him. It made him feel even worse for not getting back to her sooner. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he said. He stretched out his long legs and crossed them at the ankles. “Are you okay?”