Just Surrender... (17 page)

Not.
Soberly yours,
Tyler.

Dumb contrary woman.

As the night wore on, Edie felt her gaze tracking back to the serious one, and while Austen flirted with the waitress, Edie pondered the folly of her own contrary heart.

Austen listened politely as Edie retold her repertoire of “only in New York” stories. He laughed at the exact perfect spots, but after the plates were removed, it was Tyler’s hand she sought. Tyler’s scrupulous fingers she locked with her own.

Yes, the human heart was a finicky thing that frankly didn’t care what was good for it.

Austen was quick with the yarns, too, but she noticed a common thread in the brothers’ adventures. Tyler was always the one to take care of Austen, always protecting him, always defending him. Sure, Tyler denied most of it, but it was one of those silly, macho bluffs.

And she’d be a fool to miss the love in Austen’s eyes. Or Tyler’s. These two brothers were a pair, with their slow talk and their gentlemanly old-world view of everything.

They were just about to order dessert, when Tyler’s pager went off. He looked at Edie, and his mouth worked into an apologetic smile. It was a look she was getting accustomed to, but it didn’t bother her so much. And as a bonus, she could interrogate Austen at length without Tyler around. The evening was rife with possibilities of digging around for whatever miniscule skeletons existed.

“You’ll behave?” Tyler asked Austen.

“Don’t I always?” his brother replied, and Tyler turned to Edie.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right,” she said, and she realized that she meant it. “I have co—”

He stopped her with a hard kiss, leaving her slightly dazed and confused. In fact, she was so dazed and confused that she whispered to him words that had never before passed her lips: “Come over later. I’ll be waiting.”

As soon as he left, her fingers crept to her mouth, Jane Eyre-style, until she caught herself and tucked them in the folds of her napkin.

Wretched moonstruck fingers.

Austen, the more emotionally astute brother, was watching with curious eyes. “Well, you’re certainly not Cynthia. I don’t think she ever wore a green streak in her hair. Now don’t get me wrong, it’s a good look for you. Edgy.”

Edie put a hand to her head, pushing aside the streak. A defensive gesture—no, siree. “I’m the rebound affair. Hot sex with the flaky hippie chick. It’s a wounded-pride thing,” she added with an extra dose of flaky hippie chick in her voice.

“Far be it from me to interfere in my brother’s private affairs, but actually, I interfere fairly regularly, and I gotta tell you, he’s acting almost human.”

“Has he always been like this?”

“You mean serious, dedicated, with an aversion to fun? Not always. Most of it was nurtured.”

She waited for him to continue, but apparently he was done, sipping at his beer and grinning at Edie as if the whole thing was a joke. Edie wasn’t fooled.

“Your father?”

Austen shrugged, an “I don’t want to talk about it” gesture much like his brother’s.

Unfortunately, Edie believed that everyone felt better after they talked. It was conversational therapy, nothing more. “What was it like?”

He laughed, and it almost sounded genuine, but Edie knew fake laughter, too. “More like what it wasn’t like. Frank didn’t hit us, but he didn’t help us, either. He liked to sit in his chair, drink and ponder the many ways that life had kicked him in the ass. Eventually, I stopped listening. Not Tyler. He took it personally and molded it into his own quest for human perfection. Tyler figured if he was perfect, Frank would stop pointing out the flaws in us. But that’s Tyler. Lots of times, he’d miss the most obvious things. As such, Ty graduated at the top of his class in medical school, and Frank still never stopped complaining.”

Dr. Jordan Higgins had never been one to sit in his chair and complain. It was the first time that Edie registered a positive in locus absent parentus. And she had a really cool mom. Yes, a lonely, cool mom, but still… “Your mother wasn’t around?” she asked.

“She was the smart one. She left when I was a baby. We’re not sure about the rest.”

Edie noticed the momentary frown, and that from a man who obviously wasn’t a frowner. “And you don’t want to know.”

“He told you about Brooke?”

Brooke? Who was Brooke? “Oh, yeah,” Edie assured him. “Not that he said a lot, you know, being Tyler,” she hedged, because Edie knew that this was important. Family was important.

“He doesn’t want to see her. I don’t want to see her, but since we’re both up here, and she’s up here, it seems weird not to. You think that’s weird?”

Edie, who understood the idiosyncrasies of the human condition better than most, shook her head. “Not weird. You have to be comfortable with your decisions.”

Austen considered it. “Tyler thinks she’s a con. We’d know if we had a sister.”

Typical denial. Edie knew the signs. “Of course you would.”

“But I think Tyler wonders about Mom and wants to know. He was only eight when she left, and you know that’s going to leave some damage, but he’s really stubborn about it. Did he say anything to you?”

“No, but like you said, he’s not a big talker.” She leaned her cheek on her palm, considering his placid face, the always-present smile. One good faker could always recognize another. “You should go see Brooke. Find out the truth. Better than hiding it and never knowing what might be.”

“We’re not hiding.”

Edie quirked a brow. “No?”

“Not a lot,” he answered, sounding exactly like his brother.

She shrugged, as if the whole thing was unimportant. “Maybe you’re right—don’t see her. Don’t find out. Don’t care, and spend the rest of your life wondering.”

“I don’t wonder,” he protested.

She shot him a knowing look. “We all wonder. We all expect family to be some sort of ideal, but it’s not. All families have their spots. Some have bigger spots than others, but in the end, the only ones you can count on, are the people you love.”

“Maybe,” he said, clearly unconvinced. Edie pulled out the big guns.

“Do it for Tyler. You know he wants to know about his mother. Settle it once and for all. He’s hurting inside.”

Edie didn’t want him to hurt. She whined, complained, and groused to anyone who would listen, but when Tyler hurt, he never said a word at all.

Austen shrugged. “You’re sure you’re just the rebound affair?”

No, and that was the problem.

“I got it from your mother,” he answered.

Edie smiled, knowing that sometimes overly critical was exactly correct.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.

“Tell you what?”

“Tyler. You’re dating Dr. Hart.”

There was approval in her father’s voice. Pleasure. In slow motion, her universe twisted in upon itself and imploded.

“We’re not dating, Daddy,” she insisted, because she wasn’t ready for this conversation.

“He said you were seeing each other, punkin.”

When she saw Tyler,
if
she ever saw Tyler, she was going to correct his assumptions—after the sex, of course. No fool, here. “It’s a physical thing, Daddy. More sex than anything.”

“I don’t want to hear this.”

Satisfied, she continued, “He wants the endowment. Bad. That is his prime directive at the moment, not a relationship with a waitress.”

“A restauranteur,” her father corrected.

Edie heard something strangely wonderful in his voice. Pride? Yes, that’s what it was. She smiled in spite of everything. “He told you that? You two must’ve talked for a long time.”

“Over a triple bypass.”

In surgery? Doctors gossiped while in surgery? A picture popped into her head. Tyler in scrubs. Suturing. Clamping. “He’s a good surgeon?”

“You should have seen him, Edie. Reminded me of my younger days. Sure, he was a little stubborn, a little too quick to dismiss any other ideas, but he sliced through that sternum like Julia Child carved chickens.”

Edie didn’t want to laugh, didn’t want to approve, didn’t want to feel the hero-worship vibes, but she did. “I’m glad you’re glad. But don’t get crazy. This is temporary.”

“He’s coming to the gala. Said you were coming, too.”

Edie frowned. “He did?”

“Sure. I told your mother. She wanted to have drinks before. I told her it sounded like a great idea. You get yourself all dolled up, keep your hair one color, cover up the tattoo and put a doc on your arm. It’s a first step, Edie. A big one. I knew you had it in you. You’re a Higgins. Make me proud.”

Her smile dwindled, the words sucking all the oxygen out of what had turned into a great conversation. After she hung up, Edie sat and watched an old movie, ignoring the clock, ignoring the new polish on her toes. What had been fun and exciting, now felt stifling.

Edie dug through her closet, pulling out the long black dress she’d worn to her cousin’s wedding. It was elegant, classic, and when she tried it on, huge brown eyes stared back at her.

Mom would want her in diamonds, or pearls. The plunging neckline revealed the rose-colored edge to her tattoo.

It was Edie, but it wasn’t Edie.

Her heart hammered double-time, and she stripped off the dress and threw on a short, royal blue skirt, yellow tank with chunky beads and bright yellow slides on her feet.

There, she thought to herself, and the girl in the mirror smiled back.

Tyler wasn’t sure what this was about, but he found her waiting for him just inside the lobby, leaning against a carved wooden post. When the men walked by her, he could see the heat in their eyes.

It wasn’t the way she was dressed, it was the daring in her eyes, the confident smile on her lips. Tonight she was fire, a man touched her to burn.

Tyler approached, but didn’t touch. He didn’t need to. Heat was coming off her in waves.

“Let’s go in,” she said, nodding toward the viewing rooms. A couple walked past them, respectable, upstanding, ready to watch two strangers have sex.

“No.”

“Scared?” she taunted, toying with him, playing with him. His cock happily grew.

“No.”

“Have you ever watched anybody?”

“No.” Then he corrected himself. “Once in high school. It was the homecoming game, and they were behind the bleachers and didn’t think anyone could see them. I pretended I wasn’t watching.” Where had that come from? “You?” he asked casually.

“Watched anybody? Oh, yeah. All the time.”

“Really?” Tyler asked, not quite ready to believe her. Edie Higgins’s mouth was a lot bigger than her life. Not that he minded because she had a cute mouth, especially when…

“My old roommate,” she answered, interrupting his fantasy.

Really?
“She had sex in front of you?”

“He. Barnaby. And it was only a few times.”

“You lived with Barnaby? The cab driver?” He’d never liked the idea of Barnaby. Now he hated it with a dark passion, and he hadn’t even met him.

“We didn’t live together that way.”

“There’s only one way for a man to live with a woman.”

“We didn’t have sex, Tyler.”

“But that doesn’t mean he didn’t want to.”

“He only stayed with me until he found a place of his own.”

“How long did that take?”

“Seven months. Come on,” she told him.

When they entered the tiny room, Tyler swallowed, it felt like the edge of oblivion. He prayed that no one had been watching the first morning they’d been here, but then he noticed the seminaked couple on the bed, and Taylor opened his eyes a little wider.

Edie took his hand and they found themselves in a high-backed booth. In front of them were three four black walls, designed to muffle sound, and a glass wall, displaying the bedroom that Edie and Tyler had occupied before.

The theater.