Page 23 of We're All Liars
“Seems like it’d be easier to start from scratch. Or just buy a new one.”
I know she’s talking about the sailboat (I think), but I can’t help but dig further into her words. “Rebuilt is best. Taking something you thought was lost, never going to see the light of day again, and transforming it into an even better version than before… that’s the best way.”
Her lips brush against my cheek as she says, “Subtle, Crawford. Real subtle.”
“I try.”Fuck, I’m trying harder than she’ll ever know.
“Yeah. I don’t.” She breaks out of my arms. “Let’s go buy a damn boat.”
“Nope. Already did.” I motion to the vessel that’s seen better days as she shakes her head.
“You really gave someone money for that?”
When I loop an arm around her lower back and pull her against me, she relaxes instead of tugging away, and I know I’m really wearing her down. “It has good bones and will be even better than the original one day.”
“Okay.” She pulls her phone out of her pocket and starts clicking on the screen. “I’m ordering food while you get started on your little project.” She looks at the vessel. “Or more like massive undertaking. Because I know once you get started, you won’t stop.”
It’s my turn to laugh. “At least you finally accept reality.”
“Totally.” Her annoyance is still evident in her tone but there’s some teasing to it too. And I know eventually I’ll be on the water with her and the sailboat we built. Because the only reality I’m willing to accept is us.
23
CADE
I’m working on sanding the hull on the side of the sailboat while Morgan is propped up on stool nearby with her nose in her phone. She’s not exactly helping me, but she willingly hangs out. Her claim is because she likes seeing one of the few talents I have—working well with my hands. And the first time she said it, I did take a few moments to display my talents on her. It’s one of the many reasons this project will take ten times longer with her here, but I wouldn’t want it any other way.
I hear a knock on the wood door before it swings open. Dustin peeks his head in before stepping completely inside the old shed. Damn it. I don’t want to deal with any family mess today.
“Why do you even have a phone, Cade? I’ve been calling and texting.”
“I responded. You just don’t want to accept the answer.” I’d only addressed part of the message by declining an invite for Thanksgiving.
“Can you at least try to swing by this evening… just to hang out?”
“Can’t. Have practice.” And I don’t think he “just” wants to hang out.
“During the holiday break, really?” Why does he sound dumbfounded?
“Yeah. There’s still a game to play this week. It’s thebig opportunityyou wanted me to sign up for, remember?” My aggravation towards him tells me I’m still holding some animosity towards Dustin for encouraging me to play ball. Part of the blame is on me for conceding, too, however. “Though, it did set up my future.” I glance to Morgan. “Just not the one I thought.”
“Ah. So that’s why you don’t need me anymore.” Dustin displays that smug, superior arrogance as he says, “Definitely went with the correct meal ticket.”
It takes every ounce of strength to not raise a clenched fist and punch my own brother in the face at the insinuation. Morgan doesn’t seem bothered, considering she laughs and says, “I get something out of it too since I’m typically the meal.”
Wish I could write off the insult that easily. But my brother of all people should know this has nothing to do with Morgan’s wealth.
Working to keep my arms at my sides, I slowly make my way to stand in front of Dustin. I don’t know if I’m moving slow because I don’t want to deck him and need to work hard not to do so, or if I just need some extra time to process his low opinion of me.
“It’s not like that. I’m not like that. You should know better than anyone.”
Dustin keeps an overcritical stance. “It’s okay. You come by it naturally. You use people until you get what you want, then bail.”
And that’s when I realize there’s something deeper. He’s pointing his anger at me, but there’s someone else who has him unbalanced, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out who. “Told you he was a piece of shit.” I take a few steps back and resume sanding the hull. But I’m still curious what the bastard did to finally show Dustin his true self. “How’d our father fuck up this time?”
“He put me in the middle again with no regard for what this is doing to me.” Dustin sounds defeated, but I can’t actually feel sorry for him. I warned him. And even if I hadn’t, he should know the asshole won’t ever change. I’m not shocked at all when Dustin admits, “Dad made another bet on the game.”
I keep a stern steadiness to my tone as I look over my shoulder to my brother. “I’m not losing the game. It won’t happen.” He anxiously glances to Morgan, before his eyes drop to the floor at his feet. And I can see the shame on him as I confirm, “Yeah, she knows about it.”