Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
J oel’s apartment door clicked open before the knocking stopped, and he knew without having to look that it was his sister. Hope had always entered his room that way. To be fair, around the time he became a teenager, their mother had spoken to her about the importance of knocking and privacy, because up until that point, she barged right in without knocking at all. After the talk, Hope had simply assumed that knocking while barging in was sufficient and stuck with that.
The only way he’d kept her out had been to lock his door. Which he had unfortunately failed to do this afternoon.
Sure enough, her cheery voice rang through the living room, and he could no longer pretend to focus on his laptop. Sometimes he really did miss his office on the eighteenth floor, with the floor to ceiling glass walls that fully tinted with the flick of a remote.
“Hey you, long time no see.” She wandered in carrying what looked like a massive cake box with two coffee cups balanced precariously on top .
“What’s this?” Joel asked as he got up to take the load from her. “Did I miss the memo that I was hosting a birthday party?” The box was heavier than expected. “And why on earth are you carrying this? I thought women who were about to give birth were supposed to rest.”
Hope laughed loudly. “That’s funny. You’re funny.” She did, however, proceed directly to his couch and sank down onto it with a heavy sigh, leaving him holding the cake box and cups. He set them on the table, picked up one of the cups, and inhaled.
Peppermint. Gross. He handed the tea to his sister, then lifted the next cup. Americano. That was more like it.
“You’re not hosting a party. But it is a cake.” Hope took a sip of her tea.
“My birthday is in February.”
Hope stretched her leg out and barely missed kicking his shin. “It’s an engagement cake, doofus. For you and Lucy to sample and approve before your engagement party.”
“Right.” The engagement party. He sank down to the couch next to his sister.
“So,” Hope drawled. “You and Lucy, huh?”
Weary but braced, he regarded Hope over the rim of his cup. He knew this time was coming. In fact, he’d been surprised she’d stayed away this long. “Yep.” Best keep things monosyllabic.
“How come we didn’t know about her?”
“You’ve known her for years,” he countered.
“Okay, Mr. Evasive. So how come you never told anyone you were dating someone you were considering getting married to? Kind of important, no?” Hope kicked off one shoe and lifted that foot onto his coffee table.
He allowed it because she was about to give birth to his new niece .
“You have to admit it’s suspicious. Her popping up out of nowhere.”
“She’s been around. Just not where you could stalk her.” It wasn’t a total lie, and also part of the reason they’d kept their impromptu wedding secret all those years ago.
The Morgans and Barones had one very important thing in common. They loved to meddle in their families’ lives. And Hope would have been on him and Lucy like a dog after a bone if she had a single whiff of their wedding. One hundred percent.
“Are you in trouble?”
“What? No!”
“Is she?”
He felt Hope’s intuitive eyes burning into his temple, so he took a long sip of his coffee before turning purposefully to face her.
“Of course not.” Not exactly.
“Joel,” Hope said with a sigh. “I’m not trying to pry.”
“Yes, you are.”
She ignored him. “I like her, I do. Growing up, she was always like a big sister to me, or at least a close cousin. Going out the other night was fun, even though I didn’t make it past 7 p.m.” She rubbed her big belly. “Lucy’s easy to talk to and doesn’t take herself too seriously, but—” She chewed her lip as if contemplating what to say next. “It’s not like you, to be impulsive like this, and I want to make sure everything is above board, you know. Like, you’re not doing something that will come back to haunt you later.”
There was a lot of history between him and Hope. They’d been through a lot. Hope had been through a lot. She’d learned the hard way that if something didn’t add up, it was probably because something wasn’t right.
And in this case, he couldn’t even tell her she was wrong. She was also too smart not to pick up on a lie or embellishment.
So he told her what he knew with absolute certainty. “I will never regret marrying Lucy.”
Hope surveyed him, stripping him down with her sisterly scrutiny. “So, how long have you been dating then?”
Joel set his empty cup on the coffee table next to her foot. “Does it matter?”
“It matters to me.” Hope placed a hand to her heart. “Look, four years ago you dropped everything and came to help when Ivy and I needed you. Then you did it again when I found out about my adoption. You kept our family together, Joel. You kept me together. You’ve always been a tether to everyone, keeping them sane and safe. You don’t ask any questions, you simply arrive and save the day and move on.”
Why was she making it sound like a problem? Of course he would do whatever it took to help the people he loved. He couldn’t imagine any other way.
“But you’ve never truly seemed happy,” Hope went on. “Like deep down, happy. You’ve always been too busy taking care of everyone else. And I want you to be happy, because you deserve it. And if Lucy is that for you, then I’m all in. It’s just…” She lifted a hand, then let it flutter back to her belly. “I want to be sure you’re not dropping everything again to rescue somebody instead of focusing on what could bring you joy. I want to be sure that this is your happy, you know?”
Warmth flooded his heart. This was why he had no trouble loving her from the day she arrived in his life. The reason he stopped locking his door after the first time she couldn’t get in. Hope had one of the biggest hearts he knew, and she only ever wanted what was best for him.
“Lucy and I have a history. We’ve been together a long time, and we chose not to tell anyone because we liked our little bubble. Our lives are both so busy and chaotic that having this space where only we existed was peaceful, we didn’t want to interrupt it.”
At least that had been the truth before they’d had the biggest interruption of all. There was no way he could tell her that the night Ivy had called to tell him that Hope needed him immediately, he’d been with Lucy in that blissful little bubble. Or that when he was away helping Ivy and Hope, Lucy had lost their baby, and he’d left her alone during the most horrible moment of their lives.
He knew his sister well. She’d blame herself and feel guilty when there was nothing to be guilty for. It had happened. It was done. The only regret he had now was how he’d handled the situation with Lucy afterward.
“We’ve let our little secret go on too long, and now everyone thinks this is a big shock and surprise, when really, all along it’s only ever been Lucy for me.”
This seemed to appease Hope because she let out a heartfelt sigh, reached for his hand, and squeezed. “Okay, that was romantic enough that I believe you,” she said with a small smile and shiny eyes. “Well, shucks.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “That was kind of beautiful, big brother. I think you should use it in the groom’s speech.”
He chuckled and shook his head. He could not imagine the kind of wedding that was currently being planned for him and Lucy. The little chapel in Vegas seemed more enticing than ever.
“Whelp,” Hope said, patting her belly. “I’d say I’ll be on my way, but I’m pretty sure I’m permanently molded to this couch now, so you might be stuck with me for a while.”
“Fat chance, sis,” Joel said, getting to his feet and sticking out his hand. He was hitting the gym before Lucy got home, and then he planned to take his fiancée out for dinner. “Let me give you a hand. If that doesn’t work, I’ll get the crane from the building site to swing over and give you a?—”
Hope’s foot found his gut before he could finish the sentence.
A few hours later when Joel arrived home after a hard session at the gym, the first thing he smelled was onions, and he knew immediately something was wrong. Dropping his gym bag, he b-lined it to the kitchen where he found Lucy, back turned to him, as she chopped onions at the counter.
“What happened? What’s wrong?” The panic flaring in his chest made his voice sound more demanding than he meant to be.
Lucy stopped chopping, her shoulders slumping in defeat. Without thinking, he took her shoulders and gently turned her to face him. His heart seized when he saw her wet lashes and shining eyes. Please let that be the onions. But he knew better.
If Lucy was cooking, she was upset.
“What happened?”
She snorted a small laugh. “Me. I happened. I’m such an idiot.”
“Never. Not possible. Not in a million years could you ever be that.”
Her head dropped against his chest, any animosity between them from the night before forgotten, and he ran his hand down her back.
As sick as he was over her being upset for any reason, the fact that she was leaning on him for comfort filled his soul with something that had been missing for a long time. “You want to tell me, or should we cook first?”
Depending on what was bothering her, she’d either want to decompress by cooking in silence, or she’d want to get it off her chest first then debrief every detail while cooking together. At least that’s how he remembered it.
“I told Vanessa everything.” Her voice was muffled against his shirt.
Okay, talk first, it was.
“Told her what?”
“Everything, Joel. Well, almost everything. Not about—” Her hands swirled in front of her open mouth, but no more words came out.
He knew the words she was choking on. She might have told her sister about their marriage, but even though she’d said everything, she hadn’t told Vanessa about their baby.
Her fist thumped his pec, then she clutched his t-shirt. “One minute we’re bitching about how unfair our mother can be, and the next I’m telling her every detail of our Vegas whirlwind like I’m catching her up on a soap opera.”
“I see.” He contemplated his next words carefully as he kept the steady rhythm of his hand rubbing her back. “Did it feel good? Telling her?”
“Yes. Until I remembered that it’s Vanessa and these days, she comes with over one million social media followers who eat up every detail of her life like its life or death. Nothing in her life is a secret.”
His hand halted halfway back down. “I don’t know about that. Everyone has secrets.”
Lucy drew back, her gaze meeting his and narrowing. “You think she has secrets?”
“I think,” he said, cupping her face as he swiped the wetness off her cheeks with his thumbs. “That Vanessa has been in the public eye for enough years that she understands what to feed her followers and what to hold back. She loves you, and she wouldn’t betray your trust by disclosing your private life to everyone.”
“She said almost the same thing.”
“But you don’t believe her.”
“It’s not that. She’s still only twenty-four. She doesn’t always think things through before she acts. She gets caught up in the lights and cameras. But also…it’s the first time I’ve shared any of that with anyone, and now that it’s out there, it feels like I’ve lost control of it. Does that make sense?”
“It does.” Which was part of the reason why he hadn’t confided in his sister. Their secret had been a secret for so long, letting go of it caused more anxiety than continuing to hold it. At the same time, he’d always wondered… “But did it also feel freeing? Being able to talk about it with someone.”
Lucy released a big sigh. “Yes. And after she finished yelling at me for not telling her sooner, she had some pretty thoughtful words of wisdom. Sometimes I swear she’s lived a thousand lives.”
“Maybe she has. Fame can throw a lot at you.”
Leaning back on the counter, Lucy crossed her arms and assessed him. “Is that why you keep such a low profile? You don’t want your billionaire status to change you.”
“It doesn’t change me.” Not where it counted.
“You could buy a private island, Joel.”
“I could,” he replied as his finger traced the delicate line of her jaw. “And yet, there isn’t enough money in the world that could buy me back what I really want.”
Their eyes locked as the weight of his words settled between them. No amount of money could buy back what they’d lost, and they both knew it. Lucy frowned, so he changed course .
“Vanessa won’t tell anyone, and if she does, I’ll wipe whatever she shares off every corner of the internet. That is something my money can do. I promise.”
He turned to the cutting board and picked up the knife. “I’ll finish chopping these. Are we making lasagna?”
“How did you know?” Lucy asked as she pulled a pan out of the cupboard.
“You always made lasagna when you were stressed.”
“Huh, you really do remember everything.” She grabbed her phone from the counter. “I hope you also remember to dice the onions into tiny pieces so they don’t show up in the sauce later.”
Joel laughed. “I do.”
Lucy held her phone up as he chopped.
“What are you doing?”
“You’re wearing gray sweatpants and cooking. I want photographic evidence for future reference.”
He stopped mid-chop. “Future reference for what?”
Lucy shrugged. “Stuff.”
A low growl rumbled out of him. “You’ll be the death of me, wife.”
Lucy snorted. “Just make sure you chop the onions properly before you kick the bucket, moneybags.”