He smoothed Rae’s shaggy bangs from her eyes and smiled. “Be warned. I’m going to spoil you know rotten.”
“Genuine affection would be preferable over toys,” Rae said in an odd tone.
As if he wouldn’t naturally love his own child? How the hell had her concept on family gotten so mangled? Chest tight, Luke pulled Rae into his arms, right in the middle of the aisle, in between the assorted “moose” souvenirs and the table stacked high with assorted Valentine’s chocolates. Well aware that he’d attracted the attention of a couple of patrons plus scattered employees, all of whom he knew, Luke lowered his head and spoke soft and close to Rae’s ear. “No one’s going to love this baby more than me. Except maybe you.”
Feeling the tension in her body, he met her gaze, troubled by the tears shimmering in her eyes.
“The store’s only open until noon,” she said as if Luke wasn’t well aware. “I should get my shopping done. And your brother, he’ll be wanting to leave soon so you should go. I’ll be around,” she said, flailing her hand left then right. “Somewhere. Find me when you’re done.”
He watched her disappear into the women’s section. “Well, hell.” Instead of lingering and wondering what he’d said wrong, Luke hightailed it upstairs. His brother worked out of the same office as every other senior Monroe who’d once been at the helm of J. T. Monroe’s Department Store—family owned and operated for six generations.
With every step, Luke thought about all Dev had accomplished in his thirty-five years. In addition to running the department store, the man had multiple business interests. Most recently he’d established his own investment firm, specializing in strategic financial planning. Which sort of put him in to the “making people’s dreams come true” biz. Hard to top that.
Their sister Rocky, the youngest of the Monroe siblings, had purchased a bed-and-breakfast in her early twenties, and though it had been a money pit, she’d run it on her own until it had burned to the ground. Now she’d launched a budding interior-decorating boutique.
Luke hit the second floor thinking about how his siblings and most all of his adult cousins owned and operated their own businesses. Luke was the face and heart of the Sugar Shack, but he wasn’t the brains. It hadn’t bothered him before, now it did.
“Why is it that no one knocks anymore?” Dev asked as Luke slipped inside the office that brimmed with gleaming wood and childhood memories.
Luke shrugged. “Door wasn’t closed all the way.”
“A courtesy knock would be nice.”
“I’ll remember that next time.”
“No you won’t.”
“Probably not.” Luke flopped into the chair across from Dev’s desk. “What would it cost to buy you out?”
Dev turned away from his computer, brow raised. “Come again.”
“I want sole ownership of the Shack.”
“Why?”
“Don’t you have your fingers in enough pies?” Luke asked.
“Are you pissed at me because I gave you the riot act regarding last month’s budget?”
“No, I’m pissed at myself for exceeding last month’s budget. I need to pay better attention to the financial aspect. Need to exercise better judgment. I’ve spent too many years focused on the hospitality angle when I should’ve have been crunching numbers. Or at least learning to crunch numbers.”
Dev grunted. “You hate numbers.”
“I’m done with taking the easy way out, Dev.”
“Who are you and what have you done with my brother?”
“I know I scoffed when you first offered to teach me the accounting aspect of the Shack, but I’d like to take you up on that,” Luke said. “Maybe I can hire you as an outside accountant until I’ve got a handle on everything. You’ve been promising Chloe you’d lighten your workload. Here’s an opportunity. Sell me your half of the Sugar Shack.”
Dev leaned back in the same high-back chair once occupied by their dad, and before him, Daisy’s husband—Grandpa Jessup. All dominant forces, all respected, all successful.
Luke had never aspired to any of that. He just wanted to make a decent living doing what he liked. Tending bar, jawing with customers, hanging with friends, chasing babes. In the past forty-eight hours his priorities had shifted significantly.
“What’s going on with you?” Dev asked point-blank. “You haven’t been yourself since Christmas. You know, the Christmas you almost missed with your family because you flew off to California to help some past girlfriend out of a jam. Or so you said. That’s where Rae flew in from, right? L.A.? Rae who we once knew as Rachel. The woman who worked at the Shack for, what, a week before she skipped town for wherever. I’m thinking California.”
If Luke didn’t know better, he’d think Jayce had confided in Dev regarding the investigation into Rachel Lacey’s whereabouts. They were lifelong best friends after all. Except Jayce was a noble sort who was deadly serious about things like client confidentiality. Nope. Dev was fishing.
“I assume, because she’s only been back for a couple of days and you’re an item now,” Dev plowed on, “there was something between you before. Sam learned about it and that’s why you two have been at odds these past few months. Am I close?”
“Pretty close.” Why lie?
“Is she pregnant?
Luke didn’t flinch. Not outwardly anyway. “Why would you ask that?”
“Why else would you commit to a girl you hardly know? Alienating your own cousin in the process?”
“I didn’t screw Sam over. Not intentionally. They were never a couple in the first place. Rae had no interest in Sam. Not romantically. Not ever. Why doesn’t anyone get that?” Luke pushed out of his chair and turned his back on his brother. “Jesus. I’m trying to do the right thing here and I’m on everyone’s shit list.”
“Not everyone.” Dev moved past him, to the sidebar installed by their grandfather more than fifty years ago. “Drink?”
Luke eyed the bottle of scotch then his watch. Eleven thirty. “What the hell.”
Dev poured. “How far along is she?”
“About seven weeks.”
“Not far.”
“Rae asked me not to tell anyone. Not yet. She said the first trimester is iffy.” Luke took one of the glasses from his brother. “I need you to keep this to yourself, Dev.”
“Understood.”
They both drank then Dev said, “At the risk of pissing you off, let me ask you the same question you asked me when I faced this situation all those years ago with Janna. Are you sure the baby’s yours?”
Janna. Dev’s high school obsession. A girl who’d played loose with his heart and slept around. A girl who’d run to him when her parents tossed her out because she was pregnant. The girl he’d married, accepting the child as his own even though there was a chance it wasn’t. A child he’d mourned when his wife, now ex-wife, had miscarried five months into the pregnancy. If anyone could commiserate with Luke, it was his big brother.
“Timing’s right and I wasn’t protected. Don’t ask.” Luke slammed back the rest of his shot. “Rae said the baby’s mine and I believe her.”
“You’re taking the word of a woman who pretended to be someone else, who lived a lie for an entire year?”
“Yeah.” Luke jammed a hand through his hair. “Listen, Dev. There’s a lot I don’t know about Rae. What I sense is that she’s a good person. Even though she led a privileged life, I think it was a shitty one. I met her mom and her stepfather. If they’re any indication…” He shook his head. He hadn’t like Geoffrey Stein. He had a feeling he’d like him even less when he learned the source of tension between that arrogant bastard and Rae. Luke would bet money Stein was the one angling to derail her life. But why? “She’s as good as alone in the world. I know she can take care of herself, but there’s the baby to think of, too.”