Brooke gives me a little nod as the food starts coming around. “Good to know.”
The rest of the meal is a whole lot like normal, with Titus spending most of it staring at Mariah like she’s the only thing that matters to him—probably because she is—and the rest of my brothers doing everything possible to avoid calling attention to themselves and the fact that there is no woman sitting beside them.
And because I’m kind of an asshole, I decide to make that task a little more difficult.
“Since it seems like everyone else is going to be busy this weekend”—I lean back in my chair, smirking at Trevor, Tucker, and Walker—“you boys feel like getting into something?” My smile widens as they start shifting in their seats. “Or do you have plans?”
As expected, my mother’s attention zeros in on the three of them, waiting to hear their answers. Normally, Tucker wouldspew off some bullshit about how he always has plans, then smile like the cat that ate the canary.
He probably has. I’m sure there’s a woman named Canary somewhere who’s found her way into his bed.
Not tonight. Tonight Tucker won’t even look up from his plate. He’s acting like the freshly steamed green beans at the end of his fork are the most interesting thing he’s ever seen.
Walker isn’t much better. He’s downing his beer and pretending like I didn’t ask a question. Trevor is the only one acknowledging me in any way, and that’s only because he’s trying to glare a hole through my head.
My mother angles a brow as she looks them over. “It seems like all three of your brothers are free.” She sighs, turning away. “Shocking.”
Tucker still doesn’t look up, but one of his hands begins peeking above the edge of the table, middle finger sticking straight up and aimed right at me.
I’ve never understood his aversion to spending more than one night with the same woman. But that could just be me projecting. Because I’ve spent every night wishing for the same woman.
There were more than a few times I envied my youngest brother. That he could look at any number of women with interest. At his ability to move through life without regret or loneliness.
But then I’d remember he was also moving through life without someone standing at his side. Someone who had his back no matter what. Someone who needed him. Someone who wanted him. Someone he could take care of. Someone he could love.
I decided I liked where I was at, because I’d rather face thekind of loneliness I suffered, than to be alone the way Tucker is.
Tucker is just lowering his middle finger when Trevor tosses his napkin over his plate, the glare he’s been shooting at me carrying a challenge it didn’t before. “I guess it’s good you’re free this weekend since you’ve been occupied every time I’ve tried to come to your office this week.” He shrugs, feigning nonchalance. “At least I assume you're occupied, since the door is closed and locked and all the blinds are dropped down.”
I feel Brooke stiffen next to me, but don’t look her way. I’m not going to call anyone’s attention to her. Won’t confirm the suspicions I’m sure they all have. And if someone upsets her, I will lay them out. Right across my mother’s dining room table.
I don’t give a shit if the hole she asks Tucker to dig ends up being for me.
Tucker’s eyes finally lift, going from Trevor to me to Brooke. An easy smile splits his face as he chuckles. “Didn’t know we were allowed to take naps on the job, Toby.”
Brooke seems to relax as everyone at the table rolls with Tucker’s suggestion that it’s sleep happening behind my closed door and blinds. My mother is immediately concerned, asking if I’m working too much and not getting enough rest at night.
I guess I’m going to have to quit giving my baby brother shit now. Which is fine.
I’ll add his portion to Trevor’s.
20
Brooke
“You have really gone all out.” I don’t know why I expected anything different. Deidre’s finally getting her first grandbaby—in this case, grandbabies—and has waited a very long time for this moment. I shouldn’t be at all surprised by the epic decorations filling her home. Flowers are arranged on almost every surface, mixed in with candles and beautiful porcelain sculptures. Eucalyptus is mounded across tables with pale hued roses dotted throughout. Everything is in neutral shades of mossy green, creamy white, and warm beige.
It’s stunning.
“I just want Mariah to have the most beautiful shower.” Deidre is carefully assembling French macarons on a tiered tray. “This pregnancy has been very hard on her, and I want to make sure she enjoys at least a tiny little bit of the process.”
The way Deidre speaks about Mariah makes my heart ache. Not out of jealousy, but out of sadness. My mother would never go to this extreme for me. Not unless she thought it would get her something. The only time she’s ever put effortinto our relationship was when she realized Matt would give her what she wanted.
And he did, because she helped keep me where he wanted me. Where they both wanted me.
“Honey, would you be able to do exactly what I’m doing here on the other display?” Deidre flashes me a smile. “Time is going way faster than I expected.”
I find that hard to believe. It’s not some everyday woman throwing a baby shower here. It is the famous Deidre Bradshaw. There’s not a doubt in my mind she has every aspect of this day planned down to the second. That means I’m getting a pity job. Something to make me feel useful and included.
