“And he went ballistic! You should have heard him, Dylan. He got insanely defensive. He didn’t deny it, but he refused to talk about it either. It was so f**king infuriating!” She huffed out another breath. “He felt no remorse over it, and he didn’t even apologize or admit it was insensitive to take someone on our trip! Oh, and then he accused me of sleeping with you.”
The breath he’d been holding slipped out in a ragged burst. “And?”
“And…well, I may have flown into a bit of a rage and said some things I shouldn’t have.”
Dylan didn’t know whether to laugh or curse. “Oh, honey, what’d you do?”
“I yelled for a bit. Called him an ass and a prick and said I was ridiculously glad I didn’t marry him. So then he accused me again of sleeping with you, and I was like, hell yeah, I am, and I told him he was half the man that you are and…um…” Her voice was barely audible now. “Well, I may or may not have said that you were a million times better in bed. And then I hung up on him.”
Laughter won out, tickling his throat before bursting out of his mouth. “Fuck, Claire, I really do love that fiery redhead temper of yours.”
“Are you mad at me?”
“Of course not. I mean, I wish you hadn’t goaded him like that, but I understand why you lost your cool, all things considered.”
“Still. I’m sorry, Dylan. I shouldn’t have said what I did. But…but he bailed on me again! He didn’t even have the decency to talk to me in person, and I guess I just flipped out.” Claire swore softly. “Whatever. It’s over. I’m done with him and I have no desire to talk to him again.” She paused. “How did it go with your mom?”
“Good,” he admitted. “We’re not done talking yet, so I’ll tell you about it later. When should I swing by your parents’ place?” He knew Claire’s folks lived in Fairfax, a small town west of here and only a ten-minute drive.
“I’m about to call a cab now, and I know my mom wants me to stick around for lunch, so maybe in a couple of hours? I’ll call you when I have a better idea.”
“Cool. And try not to let this latest bullshit with Chris upset you, okay?” His voice lowered seductively. “I’ll totally kiss it and make it better when I see you.”
She laughed. “I’m holding you to that, sailor.”
No sooner had he hung up than the back of his neck tingled. Dylan spun around and found his mother standing in the doorway holding two ceramic mugs.
“So.” Shanna’s lips puckered in amusement. “Looks like I’m not the only one who’s been keeping secrets.”
Fuck. Busted. He didn’t bother asking how much she’d heard, because that parting line he’d tossed to Claire pretty much said it all.
“Mom—”
“You’re involved with Claire?” To his surprise, she sounded more curious than anything.
“Yes,” he confessed.
“Does your brother know?”
“He does now.”
“I see.” With a brisk nod, his mother handed him one of the steaming mugs and strolled back to the couch. “You can open your presents later. First I want you to sit down and tell me everything.”
Chapter Fourteen
“I’m serious,” Cash insisted. “I could totally do it.”
“Withstand the power of the ring? Bull-fucking-shit.” Seth took a long swig of his beer, then slammed the bottle on the plastic tabletop. “You lack the willpower.”
“Fuck you, man. My willpower is rock solid. I’m telling you, I wouldn’t even need to keep it on a chain around my neck. I could be wearing the ring on my finger and make it all the way to Mordor without letting the evil consume me.”
“What the hell are y’all talking about?” Jackson voiced the demand from the middle of the heated pool, where he stood with water up to his waist and a beer bottle in hand, his sunglasses shielding his whiskey-brown eyes.
“Lord of the Rings,” Seth called over his shoulder. “McCoy thinks he can make the entire journey without giving in to the ring’s power. Which he can’t.”
“This discussion ain’t interesting.” Jackson waded over to the deck surrounding the rectangular pool behind Cash’s low-rise building. He set his bottle on the concrete, then illustrated his disinterest by diving away and proceeding to swim underwater laps.
Dylan couldn’t say he cared much about this inane debate, either, but he’d been using the time to gather up his courage. He’d planned on telling his buddies about him and Claire today. And about Claire and Aidan. And maybe about him and Aidan, depending on how they reacted to the first two bombs.
He figured it was time to be honest with everyone, especially now that his mom knew the truth. Well, only the Claire part, anyway.
And Chris. Yup, Chris knew too, yet in the four days since his and Claire’s visit home, Dylan hadn’t received a single phone call, text or email from his older brother about the matter.
He supposed he could always make the first move, but the anger he’d harbored ever since the wedding fiasco had been steadily growing like a tumor in his gut. Maybe he was being immature, but he was tired of being the good guy, the fixer, the one who had to extend the olive branch all the time.
He might have screwed up by getting involved with his brother’s ex, but Chris had screwed up too. And just once, Dylan wanted his brother to be the one who apologized first.