"Yep. He's my brother. But you'll like me better."
Cal smothered a snort at Dalton's smooth lines. His charm was epic, but this woman only looked annoyed. "I don't like either of you. Keys."
Surprise shot over his face. Dalton wasn't used to women ignoring him. Cal raised his glass in another salute to Hot Girl's prickly attitude. "She don't like you, Dalton. Deal with it."
Dalton handed over his keys and smirked. "Give me some time, dude."
The bartender slid over a bottle and a shot glass, then poured them both a glass of water. "No attitude or puking in my bar," she warned. Then floated over to her other customers while Dalton watched her like a wolf on a starvation diet.
Cal rolled his eyes. "Really? Do you have to bang every girl you ever meet?"
Dalton poured a shot and tipped it back. "Nah, just ninety-five percent."
"How'd you find me?"
Dalton shook his head. Some of the sarcasm drifted away. "Wasn't trying. Just needed a place to drink and get through the rest of the night."
"Yeah, me too." They sat in silence for a while, listening to the soothing sounds of a bar crowd. "It never gets easier. Does it?"
"Nope."
"Is it worse being here? Where it happened?"
Dalton peered into his shot glass like it held the answers. "Nope. I was halfway across the country, and I still kept seeing her face in that fucking coffin, while Dad pretended he didn't give a shit she was gone."
"Yeah."
They drank. Cal admitted the presence of his brother next to him eased the tightness a little. Usually it was only him and the demons. Having somebody who understood gave some comfort.
"Where do you think Tristan went tonight?" Dalton asked.
A voice rang out. "Right here with you boneheads."
Cal swiveled his head around. Tristan stood by the door, glaring at them as if they'd taken his own personal bar space. He shook his head in pure disgust and sat down on the third stool. "Out of all the bars in all the world, you have to be in mine."
"This is kinda weird," Dalton announced. "Did you know we'd be here?"
Tristan snorted. "No, I thought I was being smart by coming here. Thought I wouldn't see anyone. I'm in a shit mood."
"Join the Jack club," Cal said.
Hot Girl came over and wrinkled her nose in disdain. "Don't even tell me you know these two."
Tristan gave a polite smile. "They're my brothers. I'll have what they're having."
The bartender scowled. "I don't have another bottle of Jack. You'll have to share." She slid a shot glass over and put out her hand. "I need your keys."
"I don't drive intoxicated," Tristan said.
"And I don't care. Give me your keys."
Dalton grinned. "You are really hot."
"And you're not."
Cal and Tristan gave a hoot of laughter. The keys dropped in her outstretched hand and she added them to her famous glass jar. "Your brothers will tell you the rules." She turned and dismissed them with a shake of her long hair.
Tristan leaned over. "What rules?"
"No fighting or puking," Cal said. "Or she'll kick our asses."
Dalton stared at her. "That would be one delicious ass kicking."
Tristan poured himself a shot glass and sipped.
"Thought you were more of a vino guy," Cal commented.
Tristan turned. His amber eyes brimmed with emotion and demons. "Not today."
They all nodded in agreement. And drank.
Cal wasn't sure how much time passed before the silence was broken. It was as if by sharing the evening together, and the memories, the brick barrier between them began to soften and liquify. It also helped that they began to pass tipsy and hit the outside barrier of intoxication.
"Do you really think I'm like Dad?" Cal asked.
His brothers shared a meaningful look. Tristan finally spoke up. "Dad understood you the best, Cal. It was harder for Dalton and me to break into the secret club, and it seemed to get worse. Are you like Dad in a lot of ways? Yes. But you're not cold. You're a pain in the ass but not an asshole. Make sense?"
Actually, it did. Cal rolled the words over in his head. "I think you two were Mom's favorites," he said. "Dalton was the baby she doted on. And you, Tristan? She was always talking about how you reminded her of Great-Grandpa. Said you have vision and think outside the box."
Dalton rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me this is gonna become a whinefest of who Mom loved more."
Cal pushed his fingers through his hair. "Nah, I'm just telling the truth. No whining."
Tristan shook his head. "You weren't around when she was constantly telling me to be more like you. From your stupid grades to your work ethic. Drove me nuts."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Cal let the information settle into a good place. He hadn't known that.
"I didn't fuck Felicia," Dalton announced.
Tristan groaned and took another sip. "Really, dude? Do we have to get into that again now?"
Dalton stared at him with pure stubbornness. "I know I deserved shit from Cal. I know I did it in the wrong way, too, but you never wanted to listen to my explanation."
Cal let out a breath. "Fine. Go ahead. I've got a bottle of Jack and I can't run away. Just tell me."
"I caught Felicia with Jeff. They were making out in the woods."
"Jeff Pallatin? My buddy from high school?"
Dalton nodded. "I freaked out, and when I confronted them, they swore to God it was a fluke and it would never happen again. She begged me not to tell you. Cried hysterically that you were the love of her life and one mistake shouldn't destroy everything. The wedding was only a month away, and I didn't know what to do."
"You never told me about that," Cal accused. "Why would you keep that from me?"
Dalton clenched his jaw. "I didn't know whether to believe her! I was worried about you, and I thought if I could prove she was a cheater, I'd go to you with the information. I told her I'd keep her secret. I began to flirt with her, watching to see if she'd become uncomfortable or back off, but she came right at me, Cal. That night you walked in on us was the first time I kissed her. I needed to know she'd cheat before the wedding, with your own brother. I planned to go right to you and tell the truth, but you walked in on us and I never got to explain."
Cal gritted his teeth and tried to sort through his rioting emotions. He'd been so hot for so long about his brother betraying him, it was hard to try to understand where Dalton had been coming from. Deep inside, hadn't he worried Felicia wouldn't be happy with one man? Mom said she liked her, but Cal spotted the worry in her gaze. Felicia was a glittering peacock who adored attention. She loved all the trappings Cal could give her. It had never really gone beyond the lust for money and the zeal of youth.
Dalton rubbed his head. "It was such a stupid idea. But I was only twenty-two, Cal. You rushed into the marriage after Mom died, and I was all fucked-up, thinking I was gonna be this hero and save you."
Tristan cleared his throat. "I believe him, Cal," he said quietly. "Dalton's always been a man whore, but he wouldn't cross that line. He's also stupid enough to think that type of plan could work."
Dalton groaned. "Thanks for nothing, bro. But it's true. Looking back, I know I should've just told you straight up when I saw her kissing Jeff. Instead, I built this whole PI scenario and screwed everything up."
How strange, after all these years of refusing to talk about the incident, that it was finally revealed in a dingy bar on the anniversary of his mother's death. The wound that had festered for years broke open and oozed clean. The truth rang out in his brother's voice. For the first time, Cal accepted the reality and realized though he'd screwed up, Dalton had never set out to seduce his fiancée. It was almost as if he could feel his mother's presence wrapping around them, desperately trying to get them to listen to one another.
"I'm sorry, Cal. I really am."
The apology struck home. Emotion clogged his throat, so he just nodded. His voice came out gruff. "Apology accepted."
And then they sat awhile longer, not talking.
Morgan slammed the car door and trudged toward My Place. The sight of it made her shudder with bad memories, but she'd been all over Harrington and was running out of places. Her texts and calls went unanswered, and she couldn't get ahold of Dalton or Tristan, either. Maybe Cal had sought haven in a bar more outside of the main town.
She pushed open the door and stopped short. And stared at the sight before her.
Cal, Tristan, and Dalton sat on stools by the bar with two empty bottles of liquor. They were laughing. Tristan had his arm loosely wrapped around Dalton's neck in a man hug, and Cal was scrunched forward close to his brothers, a huge grin curving his lips.