Chapter 27 #2
He shrugged and stretched out his arms, providing the perfect spot for Heath to rest his head. “At first I thought it was a ‘fuck you,’ because her lovely breakup note suggested I reassess my priorities.”
Heath sat back up. Outrage was a marvelous core workout. “She broke up with you via note?”
Evan laughed and tugged Heath’s head down to his shoulder. Impossible to argue with such perfect access for tracing patterns across his chest. Also, a spectacular view of his favorite spot to bite.
“I figured she was reminding me Mom was gone and I should focus on the future.”
“You don’t think that now?”
He shook his head, the motion gently rocking Heath from side to side. God, it was lovely being so close to him. His warmth and strength. His delicious scent. The man was a pit trap of comfort.
“I don’t know what to think. If she hadn’t intended to be here, why set all this shit up? I was supposed to be alone. Is this some sort of introspective penance?”
Heath’s lips curled into a small smile. Evan was starting to sound like him, and he didn’t hate it.
“Maybe she just wanted to remind you of where you came from and give you time to reflect.”
He grunted. “I’d never have pictured her doing that sort of hippie bullshit before, but she changed over the last year or two, so maybe she found God or some shit.”
“Or just inner peace,” Heath offered, and was jostled by Evan’s derisive snort.
“I wouldn’t go that far. Deep down, she’s still a neurotic overachiever. That’s in her wiring. She’s just traded Givenchy for patchouli.”
There were cheese, crackers, and even more fruit for snacking, plus some chocolates, which were a lovely complement to the fruit-forward seltzer Evan had requested in place of Prosecco.
Sated for more than one reason, a half-asleep Heath watched Evan wade through the crystal blue water lapping against the beach.
He admired the flex of the muscles in his feet and calves as he navigated the resistance of water and sand, and how the sun twinkled off the droplets clinging to his body.
Oh, what he’d give to cling like that and never let go.
Failure at casual. Incapable of separating his emotions from the physical, but highly accomplished at reading into even the smallest gestures and using them for proof of concept. His superhero name would be The Romantic Dumbass. Or maybe that was his villain origin story?
“Do you have any relationship at all with your father’s family?”
Ah, yes. What better way to ruin a wonderful afternoon than by bringing up sensitive subjects? Maybe he should change that name to Hapless.
Evan looked down at the water swirling around his ankles, a tightness lifting his shoulders. “I guess I never finished my story, huh?”
Heath’s guilt and regret were right on time. “You don’t have to. I shouldn’t have asked. I was just being nosy.”
Evan sat heavily on the blanket next to him, scooping the sand and funneling it through his palm into a volcano. “It’s a fair question. I don’t mind.”
“No, truly, you don’t have to.”
“I know, but I’m gonna anyway. You’ll just keep wondering, and I’d rather you hear it from me.”
Heath laughed stiffly. This was a terrible idea, but he couldn’t bring himself to push further.
Evan kept the details of his life hidden behind a dense mist, and he got cagey whenever anyone ventured too close.
He’d wondered why that was. Other than there being no love lost between them, what was his family life like, and had it always been that way?
One thing was certain, he wouldn’t be asking what Evan had done to deserve it, or he’d be hiking barefoot through the jungle for days.
“When my mom died, it was me and Grandma left. She wasn’t in any shape to raise a ten-year-old, so she contacted the state to get me into foster care.
They contacted my father, who hadn’t wanted anything to do with me up until that point, but didn’t want me going through the system telling everyone I was his kid. Bad for optics. So he accepted custody.
“There were stipulations in my mom’s will. The main thing being if I ended up with the prick, he had to see that I was taken care of until I was out of college, and I should have a place in his will of at least seventy-five percent equality to his other sons, of which I am second in line.”
“I didn’t know you could do that.”
He laughed, eyes shining with pride. “You can’t, but wills are public record, so again, optics.
If I contested something down the line and it got out to, say, the press that this asshole with billions put me on the street without a dime to my name for no reason other than I was an oops baby, it would look bad.
My father cares only about his name and what it gets him. No smudges allowed. She knew that.”
“I like your mother very much.”
His smile grew soft and wistful, and the shine reflected not just pride, but also love. Heath knew what it was to miss a parent who’d left the world too soon. Evan’s mother had been his for a decade, then everything had changed, and clearly not for the better.
“She was a smart cookie and spent enough time in his company to learn the basics of the game. She knew to hit him where it hurt.”
“But there’s more to the story, obviously.”
His mouth hardened. “Oh yeah. He had his lawyers offer counter-suggestions, which I’m sure included saying fuck it and booting me anyway, but he decided this was a golden opportunity to get back at her through me.”
“But she wasn’t…”
“You telling me you’ve never held a grudge?”
That earned a snort, because of course he had.
“My friend Andres once took my favorite sweater without asking, because he liked the way it made his eyes pop. Someone spilled cranberry, tomato sauce, whatever on it and the stain never came out. I’m still plotting my revenge, but I won’t be taking it out on his ancestors after he dies. That’s monstrous.”
“And now you understand my relationship with my father.”
He certainly understood why there wasn’t one.
“Do I want to know which of the options he decided on?”
“Short story? Making my life fucking miserable and unnecessarily difficult. I decided the day he cut me off I was going to win this little battle of wills, and I’m so damn close.”
“He cut you off? I thought he wasn’t allowed to.”
“Loopholes,” he said bitterly. “He kept me fed through undergrad, but denied any assistance for law school. Ironically, it was Lucy who helped me figure out scholarships and all that shit.”
No matter what else Evan thought about his ex-fiancée, she’d obviously earned his admiration by taking no bullshit. Much like his mother and grandmother.
Evan liked them bossy, and dammit, that made him smile. “I’m having mixed feelings about your Lucy.”
Evan snorted. “She isn’t my anything. Never really was, honestly. We had a love-hate thing going through school, then went our separate ways until we started working together. We agreed it would be mutually beneficial to team up.”
“No wonder you see marriage as business.”
Evan rubbed his eyes. They were red-rimmed and glassy, and Heath suspected the saltwater and sun weren’t the reason.
“That’s part of it, yeah. Not like we’d have been the first people to use marriage as a means to an end that didn’t involve a white picket fence.”
Heath sniffed. “Well, of course not. Traditionally, it’s been used more for power grabs than anything else.”
“Ah, so you do agree with me.”
“Don’t be putting words in my mouth, mister.”
“Anything I can interest you in as an alternative?”
Evan was excellent at changing the subject, and he was going to miss the audacity.
“I generally dislike gratuitous segues, but this one time, I’ll make an exception.”