Give a Little (21 page)

“Yes, I’ll give this a lot of thought.” She laughed without humor. How could she do anything else?

She arrived at her flat, in a fugue state where nothing seemed real. She kicked off her shoes and turned on music loud to drown out her thoughts.

Luca was stepping down from a management role in his company to let her in—because
she wanted it
. No one did that.

Except Luca.

“The music isn’t loud enough,” she muttered to herself. She increased the volume and then stood in the middle of her flat.

But she couldn’t escape the realization that she’d been wrong—deeply, severely
wrong
.

He’d given up his dream so she could have what she wanted.

She pressed her fingers to her temple. Her family had tried to tell her that Luca did everything out of consideration for her—he himself had tried to show her, over and over—but she’d been too stubborn to accept it.

And too scared. No one had ever gripped her heart the way Luca had.

What if he ripped it out? Luca had the power to hurt her more than anyone—Reginald or any other man, past or future.

How could she tell? She pulled out her mobile and clutched it to her chest. She couldn’t trust her own judgment where he was concerned.

But she
could
trust Viola’s. Swiping the screen, she called her sister. “I need help.”

“I’m on my way,” Viola said simply.

Sighing in relief, Bea set her mobile aside and waited for a voice of reason to arrive.

Half an hour later, the lobby buzzed her to let her know Vi had arrived. She had her sent up, waiting by the door impatiently.

The elevator opened, revealing not only Vi but Rosalind as well. “Reinforcements?” Bea asked her next oldest sister as she kissed her cheek.

“You had me worried.” Vi took her hand and drew her into the living room. “It’s not often you call for help.”

“Actually, it’s never,” Rosalind said cheerfully, unwinding the scarf from her neck. “I had to come along to have proof that you weren’t being held at gunpoint.”

Vi sat on the couch, pulling Bea to sit next to her. “Are you okay, darling? We’ve been worried about you.”

She nodded, then she shook her head. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled and said, “I need an intervention. I might be making a mistake.”

“This must have to do with Luca, then,” Rosalind said cheerfully, taking a seat across them. “What made you finally see the light? Luca moving permanently to Italy?”

She sat up. “What?”

“He’s leaving for good, after Rosalind’s wedding,” Vi said. “He’s not coming back.”

“Luca is as stubborn as you,” Rosalind added. “If he’s decided to leave, he means it.”

“I didn’t know he was leaving,” she said, frowning. “That’s my fault.”

“I don’t think anyone would dispute that, Bea,” Vi said, softening her words with a smile. “Normally your decisions are sound, but with Luca your reason seems to disappear. It’s baffling, really.”

“It’s sign enough that Luca matters,” Rosalind added.

“Or that I’m mad.” Bea looked up at Vi. “Do you think I have daddy issues?”

Her sister shook her head vehemently. “You have never once in your life dated anyone like Reginald, and Luca is as different from our father as anyone could be.”

“Luca thinks I’m letting my relationship with Reginald affect my life.” She had to try a couple times before she could say the words. “I want his approval like I always wanted Reginald’s.”

“The gift Reginald left us all with, that keeps on giving.” Rosalind stretched to take her hand, leaning to look Bea in the eye. “You better than anyone know that you don’t need anyone’s approval.”

“I know. I don’t.” She pursed her lips. “But I
want
Luca’s approval, badly, and that causes something in me to recoil. I rebel against that. I run in the opposite direction.”

“Which is why you’ve been running from Luca,” Rosalind said in dawning comprehension. Then she shook her head. “Like Vi said, Luca isn’t Father. He’s not going to withhold his love. He loves you more than anything.”

She forced herself to admit, “I’m scared that I’ll give away too much of myself to him, to try to make him happy, and that he’ll have the power to crush me.”

Vi squeezed her hand. “Bea, it’s scary opening yourself to another person, but, the chance of happiness like this comes so seldom. If you don’t give yourself over to the possibility of love, you’re going to miss it.”

“He’s pursued you for over a year, steadily and steadfastly,” Rosalind added. “Even angry, he thinks of you. Do you know he offered not to come to the wedding in case it’d cause strife?”

“He’s stepping away from the company he started, for me.” She still couldn’t believe that. He
loved
that car. It’d be like leaving your child behind.

To someone you trusted to take care of it. Groaning, she dropped her head in hand. “I bollocksed this, haven’t I?”

“Not yet,” Rosalind said cheerfully. “I bet you have what it takes to get him to come around.”

“She doesn’t need anything but to be herself. Luca loves her to distraction,” Vi said. “The question is, do you love Luca?”

She swallowed the fear—the years of habit—and nodded. “I do.”

Vi smiled brightly. “Well then?”

“What if it’s the worst mistake of my life?”

Her sister held her face and said, “If it’s going to be the worst mistake of your life, then make it a gloriously colossal one.”

“Okay.” She nodded. Then she nodded more vehemently. “Okay, I’ve made gloriously colossal mistakes before.”

“And you lived,” Rosalind pointed out. “Plus we’re all here to catch you if you fall.”

“But you won’t,” Vi assured her.

She wasn’t so sure. She’d pushed Luca away so completely—she wasn’t convinced he’d give her another chance. “You promise?”

Vi rested her head on Bea’s shoulder. “Cross my heart.”

Rowdy was making a smoothie when Titania stumbled into the kitchen. She wore one of Ian’s jerseys over her skinny jeans, her feet were bare, and if the pillow marks on her face weren’t indication enough that she’d just woken up her hair was.

He glanced at the time. “Late coming out of the love lair, huh?”

She gave him the evil eye as she reached for the coffee pot. “You’re lucky this is full or else your life would be in danger.”

He’d made a fresh pot just for her. He’d been staying with them for a couple months. He was no dummy.

Leaning against the counter, she sighed as she sipped her coffee.

Smiling, he pulsed the blender until his smoothie was a homogenous bright green.

“What’s wrong with you?” Titania asked when he’d stopped blending.

“Nothing.” He glanced at her as he got two glasses down. “Why?”

“I haven’t seen you smile in days.” Her gaze narrowed suspiciously. “You didn’t run Jasmine over with your car, did you?”

“I’m not a Summerhill. Besides, moping is exhausting. Happiness is much easier to maintain.” He poured the shake into two glasses: a large one for him and a small token one for her.

She raised her brow when he slid it in front of her. “I know you don’t think I’ll drink that.”

“Happiness and optimism go hand in hand.” He saluted her with his shake and took a big gulp. It went down fresh and delicious, and he could feel his body sighing in thanks.

He’d neglected himself uncharacteristically the past several days, but that was enough of that. He’d woken up in the night, tired of feeling down. He’d promised himself he was done with feeling sorry for himself. His heart may be broken, but he couldn’t stop living because of it. Pop would have been so disappointed in him.

He studied Titania. “Want to dance with me, Goldie?”

She snorted.

“Come on.” He held his hand out. “Just one dance.”

She edged away from him like he’d lost his mind. “Not ever,
dude
.”

He laughed. “You’re funny when you try to sound American.”

“Probably because I’m British.” She refilled her coffee and took it away with her.

“Fine,” he called after her. “I’ll call your niece. She’ll dance with me.”

Titania waved over her shoulder as she disappeared down the hall.

Smiling, he picked up his phone.

“Are you back in the land of the living?” Chloe asked the second she answered.

“Yeah, and ready to dance,” he replied, rinsing out the blender. “What do you say? Be my partner?”

“Are you going to step on my toes?”

“Dude, I’ve got moves.” He did a shimmy in the kitchen, even though she couldn’t see it.

She snorted.

“Are you sure you aren’t Titania’s daughter?” he asked.

She chuckled. “Ian might be shocked by that.”

“So?” He put his hand on his hip. “You wanna dance, or what?”

“I’ll meet you at your rehab center in an hour,” she said.

“Great. See ya later, kid.” He hung up and rubbed his hands together. Time to get on with his life.

On his way to his center, he called his dad. “I’m doing the last thing on Pop’s bucket list today.”

“Finally.” Hank sighed in relief. “I’ve been worried about you. It’s not like you to lag on getting things done.”

“I took a little turn, but I’m back on track.” He made a face. “I hope I didn’t mess this up, though. How quickly do you think the inheritance will come through once I complete Pop’s list?”

“The lawyer said it usually takes a couple months, but he said Pop left special instructions that we were to get the money ASAP. So I think he can cut you a check by the end of the week.”

Rowdy exhaled in relief, thinking of the equipment he needed to pay for. “That’s good news.”

There was murmuring on the other end of the line, and then his dad said, “Hold on. Your mother wants to talk to you.”

“How’s Jasmine?” his mother said the moment she came on.

“I don’t know,” he said softly, focusing on parking. It hurt to admit it, but what could he do?

Libby sighed. “Oh, Gary. What did she do?”

He smiled as he walked the block to his place. Libby Stimson was very devoted to the people she loved. “What if I’m the one who did something, Mom?”

“I didn’t raise you that way. You’d have apologized and made up for it,” she said as certainly as she would say the sun would set tonight.

“Thanks, Mom.” He stopped in front of the door. “Listen, I’m here. I’ll text you a picture of my new digs, okay?”

“I look forward to it. I love you, Gary.”

“Love you, too, Mom.” Smiling, he tucked his phone in his pocket and let himself in.

The place smelled like fresh paint and the future. He inhaled deeply as he closed the door and got to work making his dream come alive.

A soft knock sounded on the door exactly when Chloe said she’d be there. “You ready to get down, kid?” he said as he opened the door for her.

But he stopped abruptly, because instead of the teenager it was Jasmine standing in the threshold. He rubbed his eyes. Maybe the paint fumes got to him.

“You’re not hallucinating,” the apparition said in Jasmine’s sexy voice. “Chloe called me, and I came in her place.”

He frowned. “Why?”

“Because I wanted to.” She took a deep breath. “May I come in?”

“I don’t know.” His mom would have smacked him upside the head for being rude, but then again if she’d known how Jasmine had used him she might have slammed the door in her face.

“Fair enough.” Jasmine nodded, looking down. Then she lifted her head and looked him in the eye. “You were right. I was using you to annoy my father.”

“I already got that.” He crossed his arms. “Call me a wuss, but I’d rather not have my face rubbed in it.”

“This is important.” She put her hand on his chest. “Will you please just listen? You can tell me to go after, but this needs to be said.”

He could feel the chill of her hand through his shirt, and it was all he could not to warm it with his hands. “Fine,” he bit out, tucking his hands in his pockets so he’d resist the temptation.

“Thank you.” She withdrew her hand but her gaze kept steady. “I told myself that you were a way to provoke Daddy, but that was a lie I was using to protect myself. Men usually only go out with me for my father’s money.”

He did a sweep of her, head to toe and back, and shook his head. She was gorgeous—money wasn’t the only reason men wanted in her pants. But he knew she was serious. It made him sad, because the best part of her was her dry wit.

“And I knew you needed money.” She held her hand up. “Not that I really thought you were with me for money, but that fear popped up because I liked you so much and I was afraid of getting hurt.”

“I get it, babe.”

“You do?” she asked hesitantly.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t make it right.” He shrugged. “I don’t think I was ambiguous about it. If you were scared, you should have talked to me about it.”

“Talking is hard,” she said with a pout. “I like books.”

He couldn’t help smiling. “So tell me a story.”

Her adorable nose wrinkled. “Okay. Once upon a time there was a woman who was lonely. She lived alone in a lonely house—”

“Redundant,” he interjected.

“Don’t edit me until I finish.” She shot him a scowl and then continued. “She lived in a lonely house, and had very few friends. But one day she met a man, and she liked him.”

“Was he hot?” Rowdy asked.

“He was okay looking,” she continued without missing a beat. “But he had a nice personality.”

He shook his head. “This story would never sell. He’s got to be hot, and kiss like an Adonis, and make her insides go all quivery and shit.”

Jasmine put her hands on her hips. “This is
my
story.”

He put his hands up in surrender. “Sorry. Please, go on.”

She opened her mouth, but then her brow furrowed and she threw her arms in the air. “I can’t remember what I was saying.”

But then she grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him to her. Her body pressed against his, and her beautiful eyes filled his vision. “This is all I wanted to say anyway,” she whispered, and she kissed him.

The kiss was sweet and slow. He didn’t need text to know it was from her heart, that she was inviting him in—or that she was telling him that she genuinely liked him.