You Say It First
Page 49
He’d enjoyed himself. The people in town were friendly, which was a lot like where he’d grown up. The tourist element was also similar, but played out in a different way. Weddings instead of festivals.
Still, Fool’s Gold had been a great place to grow up. He’d always had his brothers. Nick and the twins. That was how everyone had thought of the three younger boys.
“What?” Mathias asked. “You look strange.”
Nick took that to be a comment on his expression rather than his face. “I was remembering when we were Nick and the twins.”
“I believe you mean the twins and Nick.”
“Always competitive.”
“In my way.”
Nick picked up his beer. “How are you getting along with Ronan?”
“We have good days and bad days. He’s dealing.”
“Not very well.”
“Give it time.”
“It’s been nearly three years. He needs to get over it and move on.”
“Easy for you to say. You didn’t lose anything.”
Nick wanted to point out that Ronan hadn’t, either—the only thing that was different was information. He was still their brother and their mother’s favorite. But saying that wouldn’t help. Telling Mathias was meaningless and Ronan wouldn’t listen.
“Ronan and I are fighting,” Nick said.
“Duh.”
“Still.”
“You need to stop.” Mathias shook his head. “I remember when all the fights were with Dad.”
Either about art or about their brothers, Nick thought. Once Ceallach realized his two older sons weren’t especially talented, he’d lost interest in them. Only the three with potential had mattered. Even as a kid, Nick had known that was wrong. While he appreciated being special, he was uncomfortable knowing Del and Aidan weren’t allowed to bask in the glory that was their father.
“I can’t figure out if they had it better or worse,” Nick said. “Del and Aidan never had to compete, never had to deal with him. They walked away and got their own lives.”
“He is both a blessing and curse.”
“Where’s the blessing?” Nick asked.
“Say what you want about him, it was a good gene pool. We were lucky.”
Nick supposed he was right. He couldn’t imagine not being able to create the way he did. Sure, things went wrong—there were plenty of shattered pieces of metal to prove that—but at the end of the day he could pick up a chainsaw and let the wood speak for him. He could carve or blow glass or, in a pinch, paint. Without that—he honestly didn’t know who he would be. But there had been a price.
“You’re going to say that the way he rode us hard made us better artists.”
Mathias shook his head. “I don’t think he made me better. I think he made me question whether I should bother. But with you and Ronan—you were able to compete with him.”
A competition that had cost them dearly, Nick thought grimly. Nick had walked away from the medium he thought would be his forever. He hadn’t worked with glass in nearly a decade. Mathias had given up on fine art, instead spending his time and talent making practical items like vases and glasses. The result of Ceallach’s judgment on his work. When their father hadn’t liked something Mathias had done, he would casually backhand it off the table so it shattered onto the floor. One day Mathias, like Nick, had stopped trying.
Only Ronan had hung in there, willing to go toe-to-toe with their father. It might have been because he was more able to handle all the crap. Or because he was stubborn. Or maybe it was because he was just plain brilliant. An asshole sometimes, but a brilliant one. Funny how that made him the most like Ceallach.
“You miss Dad being around?” Nick asked.
“No. Not even a little. You?”
“Nope. I should have left years ago. Interesting how four of us got away. Only Aidan is left in Fool’s Gold.”
Aidan—one of the nonblessed, or so Ceallach would say. From Nick’s perspective, Aidan was one lucky guy. He had a business he loved and the woman of his dreams. Maybe the universe was compensating him for a crappy childhood.
“You talk to Mom much?” Mathias asked.
“I call her every few weeks. She’s fine. All she wants to talk about is Ceallach. She barely asks what I have going on.” Because her husband had always been the center of her world. No one else existed. Passion consumed. He was wise to stay safe.
“What about you?” he asked.
“We stay in touch. She always asks about Ronan.”
“He won’t call her?”
“Not very often.”
“Someone needs to beat the crap out of him,” Nick muttered.
“You made a run at it and look how that went.”
Nick looked at his brother. “I wasn’t trying very hard.”
“Oh, sure. Is that what we’re saying now?”
“He’s my brother. I wasn’t going to hurt him. I was trying to make a point.”
Mathias looked amused. “Whatever gets you through the night.”
“I know what gets you through the night,” Nick said, remembering Natalie’s teasing at the game tournament. “You’d better be careful. Aidan was a player and look what happened to him.”
“He’s crazy in love with Shelby and couldn’t be happier.”
“Is that what you want?”
Mathias didn’t hesitate. “No.”
“You sure? Aren’t you tired of a different girl every night?”
“It’s only on weekends.” Mathias’s smile faded. “Okay, sure, sometimes I think about having someone serious but I don’t know. People who love you betray you.”
“Not everyone. I haven’t.”
“I appreciate that. Okay, not you or Del or Aidan, but pretty much everyone else.” Mathias’s tone was offhand, as if he was perfectly all right with what had happened, but Nick knew that couldn’t be true. As for the brother not mentioned—how had Ronan betrayed him?
“These thoughts are too deep for the time of day,” Mathias said. “What about you and Pallas? How’s that going?”
Not a subtle change of topic, but one Nick would accept. “Good. Great. I like her a lot.”
“But?”
“I’m leaving for Dubai.”
Mathias’s mouth twitched. “I hate to burst your bubble, but you don’t have the commission yet, bro.”
“Come on. It’s me. Who else would get it? I’m a Mitchell.”
“Blessing and curse, like I said.” He studied Nick. “You’ll get it based on the name.”
Nick glared at him. “And the talent.”
“If you had any.” He held up his beer bottle. “To our parents. At least we have someone to blame for screwing us up.”
Nick hit his bottle against his brother’s. “If life gives you lemons.”
* * *
“MY FIANCÉ AND I were so impressed by Catherine’s wedding,” the curvy, petite brunette said eagerly. “We decided that night we had to have our wedding here.”
Which was exactly what Taylor had said on the phone, Pallas thought in some confusion. How could anyone have been impressed with that disaster? “The black-and-white princess wedding,” she clarified. “Where the zebras got loose and the DJ robbed the guests.”
Still, Fool’s Gold had been a great place to grow up. He’d always had his brothers. Nick and the twins. That was how everyone had thought of the three younger boys.
“What?” Mathias asked. “You look strange.”
Nick took that to be a comment on his expression rather than his face. “I was remembering when we were Nick and the twins.”
“I believe you mean the twins and Nick.”
“Always competitive.”
“In my way.”
Nick picked up his beer. “How are you getting along with Ronan?”
“We have good days and bad days. He’s dealing.”
“Not very well.”
“Give it time.”
“It’s been nearly three years. He needs to get over it and move on.”
“Easy for you to say. You didn’t lose anything.”
Nick wanted to point out that Ronan hadn’t, either—the only thing that was different was information. He was still their brother and their mother’s favorite. But saying that wouldn’t help. Telling Mathias was meaningless and Ronan wouldn’t listen.
“Ronan and I are fighting,” Nick said.
“Duh.”
“Still.”
“You need to stop.” Mathias shook his head. “I remember when all the fights were with Dad.”
Either about art or about their brothers, Nick thought. Once Ceallach realized his two older sons weren’t especially talented, he’d lost interest in them. Only the three with potential had mattered. Even as a kid, Nick had known that was wrong. While he appreciated being special, he was uncomfortable knowing Del and Aidan weren’t allowed to bask in the glory that was their father.
“I can’t figure out if they had it better or worse,” Nick said. “Del and Aidan never had to compete, never had to deal with him. They walked away and got their own lives.”
“He is both a blessing and curse.”
“Where’s the blessing?” Nick asked.
“Say what you want about him, it was a good gene pool. We were lucky.”
Nick supposed he was right. He couldn’t imagine not being able to create the way he did. Sure, things went wrong—there were plenty of shattered pieces of metal to prove that—but at the end of the day he could pick up a chainsaw and let the wood speak for him. He could carve or blow glass or, in a pinch, paint. Without that—he honestly didn’t know who he would be. But there had been a price.
“You’re going to say that the way he rode us hard made us better artists.”
Mathias shook his head. “I don’t think he made me better. I think he made me question whether I should bother. But with you and Ronan—you were able to compete with him.”
A competition that had cost them dearly, Nick thought grimly. Nick had walked away from the medium he thought would be his forever. He hadn’t worked with glass in nearly a decade. Mathias had given up on fine art, instead spending his time and talent making practical items like vases and glasses. The result of Ceallach’s judgment on his work. When their father hadn’t liked something Mathias had done, he would casually backhand it off the table so it shattered onto the floor. One day Mathias, like Nick, had stopped trying.
Only Ronan had hung in there, willing to go toe-to-toe with their father. It might have been because he was more able to handle all the crap. Or because he was stubborn. Or maybe it was because he was just plain brilliant. An asshole sometimes, but a brilliant one. Funny how that made him the most like Ceallach.
“You miss Dad being around?” Nick asked.
“No. Not even a little. You?”
“Nope. I should have left years ago. Interesting how four of us got away. Only Aidan is left in Fool’s Gold.”
Aidan—one of the nonblessed, or so Ceallach would say. From Nick’s perspective, Aidan was one lucky guy. He had a business he loved and the woman of his dreams. Maybe the universe was compensating him for a crappy childhood.
“You talk to Mom much?” Mathias asked.
“I call her every few weeks. She’s fine. All she wants to talk about is Ceallach. She barely asks what I have going on.” Because her husband had always been the center of her world. No one else existed. Passion consumed. He was wise to stay safe.
“What about you?” he asked.
“We stay in touch. She always asks about Ronan.”
“He won’t call her?”
“Not very often.”
“Someone needs to beat the crap out of him,” Nick muttered.
“You made a run at it and look how that went.”
Nick looked at his brother. “I wasn’t trying very hard.”
“Oh, sure. Is that what we’re saying now?”
“He’s my brother. I wasn’t going to hurt him. I was trying to make a point.”
Mathias looked amused. “Whatever gets you through the night.”
“I know what gets you through the night,” Nick said, remembering Natalie’s teasing at the game tournament. “You’d better be careful. Aidan was a player and look what happened to him.”
“He’s crazy in love with Shelby and couldn’t be happier.”
“Is that what you want?”
Mathias didn’t hesitate. “No.”
“You sure? Aren’t you tired of a different girl every night?”
“It’s only on weekends.” Mathias’s smile faded. “Okay, sure, sometimes I think about having someone serious but I don’t know. People who love you betray you.”
“Not everyone. I haven’t.”
“I appreciate that. Okay, not you or Del or Aidan, but pretty much everyone else.” Mathias’s tone was offhand, as if he was perfectly all right with what had happened, but Nick knew that couldn’t be true. As for the brother not mentioned—how had Ronan betrayed him?
“These thoughts are too deep for the time of day,” Mathias said. “What about you and Pallas? How’s that going?”
Not a subtle change of topic, but one Nick would accept. “Good. Great. I like her a lot.”
“But?”
“I’m leaving for Dubai.”
Mathias’s mouth twitched. “I hate to burst your bubble, but you don’t have the commission yet, bro.”
“Come on. It’s me. Who else would get it? I’m a Mitchell.”
“Blessing and curse, like I said.” He studied Nick. “You’ll get it based on the name.”
Nick glared at him. “And the talent.”
“If you had any.” He held up his beer bottle. “To our parents. At least we have someone to blame for screwing us up.”
Nick hit his bottle against his brother’s. “If life gives you lemons.”
* * *
“MY FIANCÉ AND I were so impressed by Catherine’s wedding,” the curvy, petite brunette said eagerly. “We decided that night we had to have our wedding here.”
Which was exactly what Taylor had said on the phone, Pallas thought in some confusion. How could anyone have been impressed with that disaster? “The black-and-white princess wedding,” she clarified. “Where the zebras got loose and the DJ robbed the guests.”
