Mr. Imperfect(31)

Luke's folly, Christian and Jordan called Amanda privately: beautiful,  intelligent and spoiled, enamoured with the trappings of wealth. Luke  had married young, when he was naive enough to mistake lust for love. At  least that was Christian's take on it and he'd always congratulated  himself on avoiding a similar fate with Kezia. Now the irony bit deep.

"Yes. No. I don't know. I feel responsible for her." Luke's reply was  pained and Christian stopped pushing. "I do know it's time I reassessed  what I want out of life, and that means pulling back from the business."

This was more shocking than Amanda's defection. Luke lived and breathed  the business. Seeing his reaction, Luke's expression hardened. "How much  more damn money do we need to make, Kelly? Where's the meaning in it  now?"

"Wealth has its uses." For some reason, Christian started talking about  the community trust fund attached to the hotel; saw the interest in  Luke's eyes. They discussed it for some time, along with which manager  could assume some of Luke's responsibilities while he took a break. The  lines of fatigue on Luke's face deepened.

"You need sleep."

"You're right there." Luke massaged his temples. "And I'll need all my  wits about me when I meet Amanda at the lawyer's tomorrow." Still he  didn't move.

Christian wondered if he was reluctant to return to his empty house.  "Why not stay with me for a while? It'll be like old times."

"Isn't there somewhere else you need to be?" The cryptic remark stumped  Christian. He looked more closely at his friend and saw a glint of his  old devilment. "C'mon," drawled Luke, "you didn't think I was going to  let you dunk me in the deep stuff and not return the favor, did you?  I've heard all about her."

"Jordan's got a big mouth."

"I'm sure you want to tell me all about this Kezia Rose-" the glint grew  more pronounced "-seeing as how you like everyone to be in touch with  their emotions now."

"Screw you."

"What I want to know is, since when does Christian Kelly let someone tell him when to quit?"

"It's more complicated than that." Damn he hated this.

"It always is," said Luke without sarcasm. "Does she love you?"

Surprised by the question, Christian answered. "She said so."

"Then get back there and let love conquer all. Isn't that how it's  supposed to work?" This time, Luke's tone was full of cynicism, and  pain.

Christian realized he'd known his marriage was a sham all along and was  hurting. "You don't believe that shit." He said it to console. Not just  Luke, but himself.

"No, but I have no reason to. You do."

"We lost a child-a long time ago." Where the hell had that come from?





CHAPTER FOURTEEN




LUKE SIMPLY WAITED. The silence stretched between them, until Christian  had to fill it. "I would've made a lousy father." Not with that! He  rushed to qualify it. "Hell, I don't even know how to play."

"Mate, you don't know how to do anything but play. Your challenge is to stop once in a while."

Okay, Christian thought, let's change the subject before this gets  embarrassing. "I'm scared," he heard himself say instead. "Not for  me-for her. I don't know how to do this crap. What if I stuff it up?"                       
       
           



       

"You're asking me?" Bleak humor glimmered in Luke's eyes. "I'm heading  for divorce, my wife is screwing a man who can give her emotional  security, and I don't know who I want to be anymore. But I won't be a  guy who never tried to find out. I won't be a whiner, a loser, a  coward." He glanced at Christian's clenched fists. "Want to hit me yet?"

Christian unclenched his hands and his jaw. "Okay, you've made your  point. I'll be her better man." He stood and Luke stood with him. "Come  on, asshole. I'm taking you home to bed."

"I always wondered what your line was, Christian," Jordan said from behind him. "Now I can see why women fall over themselves."

"Wise guy," Christian said without heat. "Where's the harem?"

"Ditched." Jordan grabbed Luke's hand and pulled his mystified friend into a bear hug. "I'm sorry you had to come home to this."

Christian winced. "Have I been that pathetic?"

"Yes." Jordan released Luke but kept a light hand on his shoulders. "But I was talking about Amanda."

Luke narrowed his eyes. "How the hell do you know that? I've only just told Christian."

His expression pained, Jordan turned Luke toward the big screen and,  with a sinking premonition, Christian looked, too. News had replaced  sports. The sound had been turned down to a mumble, but behind the  newscaster was a big picture of Luke and Amanda's wedding. The happy  couple had been separated by a stylized rip and, across the top, a  headline proclaimed Tycoon's Wife: Marriage Over.

"Oh, my God." Instinctively, Christian stood in front of Luke and, with  Jordan running defense, shepherded him past the curious stares of the  few looking at the broadcast. They were out and heading for the car park  before the gossip could catch and spread.

Luke jerked to a stop as soon as he realized they were steering him to  Christian's Ferrari. His face had set like granite, impossible to read,  but his tone exuded suppressed violence. "If I need baby-sitters, I'll  ask for them." He turned and stalked toward his own vehicle.

Behind his back, Christian exchanged glances with Jordan. "Let me drive," he coaxed Luke. "You've been drinking."

"Not nearly enough." Luke kept walking.

"Then come home with me," Jordan tried, "and we'll have a session."

"Another time." He pointed his remote control and the locks clicked.

They came up behind him as he opened the driver's door. Jordan pushed it  shut and leaned against it. "You're not seeing her tonight, buddy, and  you don't have to go through this alone."

"In fact-" Christian seized the car keys "-we won't let you."

"That's sweet of you, girls." Luke's tone was pure poison. "But if you  don't step away from the car and give me back my goddamn keys I'm going  to smash your faces in."

"And we have such pretty faces," Christian remarked to Jordan, who shook  his head, causing his long blond mane to shimmer under the  streetlights.

"Next he'll threaten to pull my hair."

Luke's punch caught Christian in the solar plexus and knocked the breath  out of him. He bent double, cursing himself for being caught off guard  when Luke had so obviously been ready to explode.

Luke grappled for the car keys but he hung on to them and butted  headfirst into his friend's concrete midriff, hearing a satisfying  whoosh of air as he sent him backward into Jordan. He stood up wheezing,  to see Luke straining to break Jordan's bear hold.

"Takes you back to our old arm-wrestling competitions, doesn't it?"  Christian gasped conversationally. "I'm just trying to remember who  won."

"I did." Both men ground out the words simultaneously. With an immense  groan, Luke wrenched one arm free, reached back to grab a handful of  Jordan's hair and pulled.

"Aaaaah!" Jordan's surprised bellow rang through the car park. "That  hurts!" He released his hold and pushed back just enough to bring a knee  up hard into Luke's tailbone. Luke let go, dropping his hands to his  injured rear, and Christian made the mistake of laughing.

The next thing he knew, he was on the ground clutching his balls and  trying not to be sick. Luke was kneeling beside him apologizing  profusely. "The worst thing you can do to a guy … I lost it … I'm sorry."

"Well, that solves the fatherhood dilemma anyway," Christian whispered when he could speak.                       
       
           



       

They hauled him up. Still nursing his affected parts, Christian leaned  against the car and looked first at Luke, gingerly massaging his ass,  then Jordan, wincing as he rubbed his scalp with one hand and clutching a  handful of long golden strands in the other.

And he began to chuckle. The chuckle turned into a laugh that combusted, until all three men were roaring.

"That was pathetic," Christian managed, cradling his aching ribs with  one hand, his balls with the other. "These days, we couldn't fight our  way out of a pair of Levi's."

Jordan was nearly sobbing with laughter. "You pulled my hair," he accused Luke.

"Hey, it was your idea. I just used it." Rolling his head helplessly,  Luke tried to sit, which set them all off again. "What the hell was that  kick up the rear?"