Morgan gasped as the inspector marched past Cal and out the door.
"Zach, I'll talk to him. I swear I knew nothing about it. I'll set him straight. Don't take his mistakes out on me or this project. It's important."
Zach grunted. "I like you, Cal. I always did. And I know the trouble you've been in since Christian's death. But your company is called Pierce Brothers. He's part of it now, and it's time to take responsibility."
"I can get another inspector," Cal threw out.
"Good luck. I put in a few calls, and seems they're all out on vacations, too."
Zach left, leaving a shattering silence behind him.
Morgan was used to dealing with a variety of disasters on- and off-site, but for the first time, she didn't kick into fix-it-now-or-die mode. Instead, she watched the emotions flicker over Cal's face, slowly walked over to him, and tentatively laid a hand on his muscled arm. He flinched under her touch. "Are you okay?"
He let out a shuddering breath. "Yeah. I'm going to fix this."
"I know. Do you need any help?"
A grim smile curved his lips. "Kicking my brother's ass? Nah, I got this one."
He reached for the cell phone.
The familiar smells of varnish, wood, and sawdust hit his nostrils. The music rose to his ears, his brother's favorite wussy pop rock tunes Cal couldn't stand, and he stood studying Dalton in the woodshed he'd converted into his own personal castle. The workbench was set up nearby with an elaborate console table, currently stripped down to the grain. He had watched his brother work many times before, and always held a respect for the way he was able to coax wood into something like high art, a beautiful piece for a person to treasure and pass down for generations. Dalton's fingers danced over the flat surfaces, scraping the material down with a rhythmic precision that matched the tune. Dear God, was that One Direction? Cal winced with embarrassment for both of them. His father would've called him out for humiliation if he ever heard. They'd all had their turns under Christian's blistering tongue, but Dalton would take it the hardest. The resentment in his gaze had slowly grown to epic proportions, until only their mother was able to soothe the angry beast. Now all they had was each other, and Cal doubted they'd ever mend fences with no peacemaker in sight.
Cal turned off the music and waited. His brother stopped his sanding motions and turned his head. Messy blond waves framed his face, giving him an angelic look that always startled an onlooker, especially women, urging them to trust his charming words and lopsided grin.
"You just couldn't keep your dick in your pants, could you?"
Dalton unfurled himself from his kneeling position, stretching his arms over his head with a lazy lion's grace. Wariness crossed his features, but he showed no weakness. Another lesson well taught under their father's tutelage. "My dick in trouble again, bro? What'd I do now?"
Rage flicked at his nerve endings, but Cal swore he'd be an adult. He would not punch his brother today. He would be calm, and controlled, and not act out on the need to communicate in a physical manner. "I had a meeting with Zach Griffin today."
"Yeah. For the framing, right?"
"Right. He said we need a structural beam for the main living area."
Dalton frowned. "I thought Brady redesigned the plans. Sydney filed them with the inspector's office. No beam is needed."
"That's what I said. Imagine my surprise when Zach told me about his daughter Ashley and her so-called relationship with you."
The light went on in his brother's blue-gray eyes. Oh, yeah, the bastard knew what the real problem was. "Ashley? The pretty blonde with the curves? That's his daughter?"
"Yep. Not that you waited to know much about her or her family when you tumbled her for a night, then dumped her."
Dalton threw his hands up. "Slow down, dude. Ashley and I met at the tavern and hit it off. I never promised her anything long-term."
"Funny, 'cause she thinks you did. Unless her idea of long-term is an actual date, and you ditched her after you got into her pants."
Dalton crossed his arms. "Why are you so obsessed with my sex life? I like women. Women like me. When I take one to bed, she knows exactly what the deal is, and most of the time comes back for more. Ashley and I met at the tavern, hit it off, and went back to her place. I told her I'd call but didn't say when. How was I supposed to know her father would get involved? Besides, that's unprofessional. Get another inspector."
Cal ground his teeth. "There is no one else. Zach made sure of it. And if you paid attention to anything but wood and women, you'd know to keep your damn hands off anyone related to my business!"
"Our business. Pierce Brothers. My personal life has nothing to do with work."
"Oh, yes it does. When it affects this project and causes problems with our deadline, your personal life is very much my business. If we don't get Zach back out here pronto and make him feel better about this situation, we'll lose two weeks, which we can't afford. God, when are you gonna grow up, Dalton?"
Fury leaped into his brother's eyes. Like a pissed-off stallion, he practically reared up and snarled, getting in his face. "When I'm treated like a partner and not some annoyance. When I'm finally respected and asked questions rather than told by a fucking drill sergeant when my projects are due. When I'm invited to business meetings instead of to the bar after work."
"You don't think I want that?" Cal tunneled his fingers through his hair and held on to his temper. "Dude, that's my dream. I don't want to do this alone. I thought we were going to be a team, but Tristan is still off tinkering with real estate, and you're taking on odd jobs to work on cabinets, and I'm stuck building this house that we only have four months left on. I'm going to lose everything if this house isn't done. I've been waiting for you to step up, but if I keep waiting, hell's not just gonna freeze over, it's gonna turn into the Arctic!"
Dalton began to pace the woodshed, his body vibrating with tension. "We'll lose everything, Cal! Not you-us. I may not want to be here, but this is Mom's company, and no way do I want to lose it. I'm tired of asking you to treat me like a full partner. You're so used to doing everything alone, I don't know if you're truly capable of letting us help anymore. You block us at every turn."
Cal glowered. "What are you talking about?"
"Tristan and I both tried a bunch of times to be on the site. You tie him up with suppliers and accounting, then double-check everything he does. When Morgan and I decide on aspects of the cabinetry, you want to sign off on it first. We know how to build, Cal. Instead, you depleted your team and have us doing errands to suppliers a competent office assistant can handle. You give us this big lecture about being a family and helping each other, but you're still a one-man show."
No way. His brother was wrong. "Bull. You like to pick and choose what parts of this company you want to be involved in. I'm sorry, some jobs just aren't that glamorous."
Dalton glared. "Tristan and I can also grow this company, but you refuse to listen. You don't get it. Maybe you'll never get it. Or maybe you're just exactly like Dad."
Cal stiffened. The hurt cut as nasty as a paper cut, except through his heart rather than flesh. Never. He'd die before he became another Christian Pierce. Coldness replaced the hurt until he was able to gaze back at his brother in complete control. "And maybe you'd just be a big disappointment to Mom."
Dalton sucked in a breath. Guilt punched through Cal. Everyone knew Dalton had been Mom's favorite. She'd doted on the baby of the family, especially since Christian treated Dalton like a screwup. It was as if they'd been a team against their father, protecting each other from his scorpion sting.
Learning that Mom had packed her bags to leave Christian on that fateful day she was killed haunted them all. Something died in his brother along with Mom, like his foundation cracked and could never be repaired. He'd stuck around for Cal's engagement, but when Cal discovered his brother's betrayal, Dalton had quickly left along with Tristan. In one swoop, Cal had lost his mother, fiancée, and two brothers.
Dammit, he hadn't wanted this. He didn't want to go another round with his brother. Why couldn't he find that bond they'd had when they were young? When each of them could finish the other's sentences and long nights were spent sharing dreams and secrets. His brothers had been his world, his safety net, the only thing that made sense to him. Now he looked upon strangers, and he hated every second of it.
"Dalton, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."
Dalton refused to meet his gaze. "Yeah, you did. Whatever. Mom's gone, and she's not coming back. You want me to be your trained seal for the next few months and build your house? Fine. Just tell me what you want and when you want it. I'll show up and be a good boy. But don't pretend we're something we're not. Don't pretend we mean more to you than the company, or that you want us to stay. Because we both know the truth."