Preston Brothers The Complete Series Read online

  “It’s all right,” the older woman murmured. “Take a deep breath. Your mom’s right here.”

  The embarrassment that tore through Charlie seared him to the core. Stephanie whispered softly to Jasper. It took him a long time to let go of Sarah’s pant leg, but finally he did. Stephanie whispered into his ear and rubbed his back.

  Charlie could hardly breathe. He shouldn’t walk away—he knew that down to his bones. But what was he supposed to do? What was he supposed to say?

  He cleared his throat. “Jasper, I’m sorry, buddy.”

  Jasper lifted his face from Stephanie’s shoulder. “It’s not kind to fight with each other.”

  “I know that. Sometimes people have disagreements…” He ran a hand though his hair, hating this feeling of being adrift on an open sea. “I’m sorry.” He said this to both of them, hoping it came across that way, knowing that it might not. Sarah met his eyes across the room.

  “I’m going to step out,” his housekeeper said quietly. On her way past she took Charlie by the arm and tugged him out into the hallway. “Give them a minute.”

  His throat ached. “I want to be…” He wanted to be in it with Stephanie and Jasper, but it was impossible. They just weren’t there yet. And there was no rushing through it, as much as he wanted to. “I want to do the right thing.”

  Sarah considered this. “What happened?”

  “We…had a disagreement. Over the plans for the trip.” He could hear Jasper’s muffled voice, small and strained. “Jasper walked in on us.”

  She nodded slowly. “That happens with every couple, at some time or another.”

  “That’s the thing. I’m—” Dread washed over him, sickening and strong. “We’re not exactly a couple.”

  Sarah’s eyes sparkled with skepticism. “Seems like it to me. But what do I know?” She reached out and patted his shoulder. “Need anything else for the day? If you don’t, I’ll head home to the family.”

  “No,” he said. “We’ll see you in the morning, and then you can enjoy your vacation too.”

  “It’ll be all right,” Sarah said. “You’ll see.”

  For the moment, it was so not right that Charlie didn’t know what to do with himself. He lingered in the hallway for as long as he dared, and then he went to plate up the spaghetti. The three of them ate in relative silence, Stephanie asking Jasper about his day with Sarah, and Charlie’s anxiety ebbed and swelled until after Jasper’s bedtime.

  He sat on the sofa in the living room, ready to crawl out of his skin, his heart thudding and his mouth dry. Stephanie’s footsteps were soft on the carpet. She sat down in a chair across from him. It was like he’d run a race—a thousand races. The dreadful anticipation threatened to explode his veins.

  “I think,” Stephanie began, and those two words stamped out the spark of his hope. “That today was proof that we shouldn’t be together.”

  “Why?” The word was like gravel in his mouth.

  “Because I’m not sure you’ll ever learn that you can’t plan out every aspect of Jasper’s life. Of anyone’s life, really, but especially not Jasper’s. I can’t…” She looked away, her mouth tightening and chin quivering. It took several beats for her to look back. “I can’t accept support from you if it comes with strings attached. Boarding school…” She made a small noise in the back of her throat. “No.”

  It sounded utterly final, that no. “I only want him to have the best.” God, why couldn’t he stop fighting this? Why did he feel so terribly strong about wanting to make sure Jasper had absolutely everything? Was that how all fathers felt about their sons? How did they breathe through it every day?

  “I understand. I want that for him, too. But we have different ideas of what that looks like, and I don’t want to spend my life battling you over it.” She took in a sharp breath. “I feel guilty about taking him away from you. I really do. But it’s better to do it now than wait until he’s formed a deeper bond.” Her voice cracked on the word bond, and Charlie felt an answering crack in his own heart. It was too late for that. He felt a bond with Jasper that he could not un-feel.

  Charlie sat in silence, swallowing the hurt that threatened to choke him. A thousand things ran through his mind—a thousand things to say, a thousand things to argue. But it was too late for arguing, wasn’t it? It would get him nowhere.

  And more than anything else, he didn’t want to see Jasper upset. This was the only way, wasn’t it? To be apart?

  His heart raced, then slowed, then seemed to stop. He looked into Stephanie’s eyes. “I still want you to go on the trip.”

  “We can’t go on the trip,” she said instantly. “That would be painful for all of us.”

  “No. I want you and Jasper to go on the trip. I’ll stay home. My presence…it’s not helpful. But I promised you a vacation. You’ve earned it.”

  “But—”

  He held up a hand. “I won’t take no for an answer. Not on this.” He stood up woodenly from the sofa, his legs feeling like they might give out at any second. “The plane will be ready for you in the morning. I—” There was so much more he wanted to say to her, but his mind couldn’t find the words through the sound of a distant howling cry. “I’m glad for the time we spent together,” he said finally, and then he walked away.

  13

  “You’re miserable.”

  Stephanie stared up at the perfect blue sky through the tint of her sunglasses and sighed. “I’m not miserable.”

  Her sister, Caroline, turned over on her side on the beach chair next to Stephanie’s. “We are at a luxury resort in Barcelona, and you’re miserable.”

  “I’m really fine.”

  “Yes, look at you. All smiles. So much joy.” Stephanie stuck her tongue out at her sister. “What? It’s true. You’re down in the dumps, and you’re almost ruining it for everybody else.” Caroline flipped onto her back and stretched her arms over her head. “Not even your bad mood could make this place terrible, though.”

  She was almost right about that. The resort was one of the most beautiful and opulent places Stephanie had ever stayed, right down to the zillion-thread-count sheets on the beds. For this five-day stretch of their vacation, they had mostly spent their time on a private beach, in a private cabana that had pristine white cloth stretched above their heads. Jasper sat on a child-sized beach chair at their feet, drawing in his notebook. He’d be happy doing that until time to eat or splash in the crystal sea.

  “I’m only a little miserable,” she whispered to her sister, so softly that she could take it back if she wanted—pretend it was only the breeze.

  “I know,” Caroline whispered back. “Seriously. You have been sad while we’ve visited some of Europe’s most stunning sights. You didn’t even smile when we visited the Tower of London, and I happen to know you’re still obsessed with the Tudors.”

  Stephanie laughed. “I don’t have time to be obsessed with the Tudors. That was a thing for college me. Before Jasper.”

  “I know,” Caroline ribbed. “What you’re really obsessed with is Charlie.”

  “Shh. Not in front of J.”

  But it was too late. The little boy’s head had snapped up from his notebook. “Are you talking about Charlie? Are we going back to his house after this?”

  Pain bloomed in Stephanie’s chest like a plant made entirely of thorns. “I don’t think so, bud.”

  “Why not?” Jasper didn’t wait for the answer to his question. He looked back down at his notebook and made a sweeping line across the paper.

  “Yeah,” said Caroline. “Why not?”

  Stephanie sighed. “We’ve been over this.”

  They had been over it, and they’d had an entire transatlantic flight to talk. Not only had Charlie insisted on sending Stephanie and Jasper on the vacation, he had also insisted that the private plane make a stop in Delaware to pick up her sister. The moment she’d stepped onto the plane, Stephanie had felt an enormous weight lift from her shoulders. It had slammed back into plac
e as soon as they landed in Italy, but for a while, she’d been able to talk everything over as they crossed the ocean.

  “I know you think you’re doing the right thing, but this is clearly the wrong thing. If it was right, you wouldn’t be such a downer.”

  “I’m not trying to be a downer.”

  “It’s not a matter of trying, Steph. You’re just…exuding sadness. They could make a sadness perfume based on you.”

  “We’re just not right for each other.” The breeze caressed Stephanie’s face, somehow cooling her hot cheeks. “He tries to plan everything. He wants me to depend on him.”

  “Well, yeah,” said Caroline. “Of course he does. He’s in love with you.”

  “He’s not. He’s only in love with—”

  “If you say the idea of you, I’ll be forced to slap you,” pronounced Caroline. “That man sent you on an all-expenses paid tour of Europe by yourself after you…what, you didn't even want to see the boarding schools? What if Jasper likes boarding schools?”

  “I like school,” said Jasper from his spot at their feet.

  “See?” Caroline raised her glasses so Stephanie could see her eyes. “He was only giving you all the options. And I don’t know why you’re so fixated on the planning thing. He’s back home while you throw his itinerary to the wind and have the time of your life with your sister. He wanted you to be happy, even if he wasn’t going to be. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.”

  “Can we go back and see Charlie again?” asked Jasper. “I’m hungry.”

  “I’ll order you some food,” said Stephanie.

  Caroline laughed. “Yes. Order him some food, and have our personal butler bring it to him. That’s not even a joke. We have a personal butler at this resort. Go ahead. Ring your little bell.”

  True—there was a small brass bell on the table between their chairs, and ringing it would summon a young man in a white polo shirt to take their orders and bring them anything they needed.

  “I hate the bell,” said Stephanie. “I’ll order from the restaurant.” The restaurant was the fanciest concession stand Stephanie had ever seen. The food came out on china plates, with real silverware. The butler would bring it to them when it was ready, but she was not going to ring that bell.

  “Jasper misses him, you know. I think the jersey is a sign.”

  The jersey was from the day they’d spent at the baseball game; Charlie had bought it, of course. Jasper hadn’t had a chance to wear it yet, but she’d found it tucked into his suitcase when they landed in Italy. Jasper had worn it practically every day since. The only reason he wasn’t wearing it now was because it was being washed. Caroline told Jasper it didn’t go with his bathing suit. He’d bought it…this time.

  “He’ll be okay in the end.” Stephanie stood up and squared her shoulders. Everything lately felt like marching into battle, but she was on vacation. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

  “Will you?” Caroline said pointedly. “Because if you can’t be happy on the vacation of your life, how are you ever going to be happy back home without him?”

  “I…”

  The truth sounded in the air around her like a ringing gong, and Stephanie stood in the center of those vibrations. She felt them in her heart, right along with the crashing waves and the whispering breeze and the flutter of the canopy above their heads.

  “You can still be an independent woman and have a husband, you know,” Caroline said. “You do know that, right?”

  “What I know…is that I messed up.” The words came slowly at first, then faster. “I want a family. I miss the family we had, even though I wouldn’t let myself call it that, because I was scared, because I was…” She let out a laugh. “Maybe I’ve been way too stubborn about this.”

  Caroline rolled her eyes, a big smile on her face. “You think?”

  Every single thing reminded him of Stephanie.

  That was the risk, though, wasn’t it? You couldn’t live with a woman and her son—your son—without seeing them everywhere in your apartment once they’d gone. Charlie spent his nights sitting up in bed, thinking he heard the muffled thuds of Jasper’s footsteps in the hall outside. He couldn’t shower without imagining that he heard Stephanie’s low laughter just below the rush of the water.

  He couldn’t even escape the feeling at an axe-throwing tournament.

  It was a last-minute invite from his friend Pace. For a tournament, it was relatively low key. Just a bunch of guys who happened to own and enjoy throwing axes. Charlie had done more axe-throwing on his college campus than he ever had afterward. And now, testing the weight of the antique axe in his hand, he didn’t think of his dad, who’d passed the set down to him. He didn’t think of his grandfather, who’d originally bought the throwing axes. He thought of Stephanie, axe brandished in a way that was completely awkward and wrong. But the determination in her face…wow. Mama bear in action, even to the point of hacking the “intruder” to bits with an axe.

  “You’re up.” Pace pointed up at the screens at the top of the range, where Charlie’s name was displayed, big and bold. “If you’re done staring at your own axe, that is.” The other man gave a belly laugh at his own joke.

  “You caught me,” said Charlie. “I’ve been having deep thoughts about the axe.” And about the pain that arced across his chest whenever he thought of the distance between himself and Stephanie right now. He could feel every mile as a prick against his heart, and she was far.

  Charlie stepped up to the line, hefted the first axe from his set, and let it fly. It landed at the outer edge of the target. Pretty good, for someone who hadn’t practiced. Pace handed him the second axe. “You’ve got a nice set,” he said. “You should learn to use it.”

  “I know how to use it, thanks very much,” said Charlie, and threw the second axe.

  He knew the second it was out of his hand that something had gone wrong. A sharp pain lanced through his wrist and he dropped it into the other hand, squeezing hard. The axe landed strangely on the target, not quite wedged in. It was a failure all around.

  Pace stepped up and patted his shoulder. “You all right, man?”

  “Hurt my wrist.” Charlie tested it with a twist. More pain. Unbelievable. He’d come to the tournament to escape pain, not pile more of it on.

  Pace shook his head, face grave. “Gotta be more careful. Life insurance doesn’t cover risky sports deaths.”

  Charlie laughed, but it didn’t ring true. “If I die from tweaking my wrist, then I’m too pathetic for life insurance.”

  He might not have been too pathetic for insurance, but he was too pathetic to stay in the tournament. His wrist ached with every movement.

  “I’m done,” he told Pace fifteen minutes later. “I’m going to head out.”

  “You sure? A cold beer could fix you right up.”

  “I’m sure.”

  He’d let Pace drive him to the tournament, so he called his own driver to pick him up. He stood at the back of the venue with his hands in his pockets until the black SUV pulled up in front of him. He reached for the door handle, forgetting his wrist, and regretted it immediately. Louis, the driver, climbed halfway out of the car. “You all right, Mr. Preston?”

  “Not really,” he groused, feeling blank and sullen and small.

  Back at his apartment, he settled the axes in the shadow box. He’d had them sharpened for the tournament, which meant that now he had to maneuver their protective covers back on, which sent another spark of pain through his wrist.

  This was not going well.

  He took some painkillers. He sat on his sofa and watched three episodes of a show, taking in practically nothing.

  Bed. His eyes burned, and rubbing them did nothing to help. He needed to go to bed. But he couldn’t help stopping at the guest suite. Charlie expected it to be empty.

  It wasn’t.

  A sweatshirt was folded at the foot of the bed. He picked it up in his hands, feeling the pleasantly worn fabric, and br
ought it to his face. Shame burned across his cheeks. It was Stephanie’s, and here he was, alone, desperate for any sign of her. A couple of books sat on the bedside table. She liked to drink coffee with one of those books, with this sweatshirt slipping off her shoulder.

  He needed her.

  He stood in the guest room, holding the sweatshirt, and felt the certainty of it crash into him like an enormous wave. He needed her. That was the fact of the matter. He needed her with him, and he needed his son with him. Without them, his family wasn’t complete.

  His phone rang in his pocket.

  Charlie picked it up on autopilot, not bothering to look at the name on the screen. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Mr. Preston. This is Julie at Worldwide Luxury.” His travel agent. He’d worked with her to book most of the trip. “I’m sorry to be calling so late.”

  “It’s not a problem. What’s going on?”

  “I had a call from Ms. Sugarman this evening. She wanted to change her flight back to the US.” Julie hesitated. “I thought I should check in with you first.”

  His pulse raced in his chest like a runner out of the starting blocks. “Change it how?” If she was going to disappear into Europe, he’d have to go after her. He’d just have to.

  “An early departure back to the States. They should be leaving for the airport any moment. I wanted to check with you before cancelling the remainder of their reservations, and so I could tell the pilot where he’ll be needed next.”

  “Where do you have them landing?”

  “At New Castle Airport in Delaware,” she said smoothly. The private aviation airport closest to her East Coast home. His heart sank, then rose at the realization that she’d be that much closer. “If you don’t approve, I can connect with the flight team now—”

  “It’s approved,” he said. “Get them back home.”

  He hung up the call, energy singing in his veins. It would be eight, maybe nine hours, and they’d be landing at New Castle.