something’s off.’
‘You don’t think . . .’ Ethan turned away from the window and leaned against the counter, his eyes on the many pictures and photographs stuck on the fridge. ‘I mean, Ro did lose it a bit a few years back. There was that one time he yelled at Nina and caused quite a scene.’
Bree had just died, and Nina had accidentally broken one of her mother’s necklaces. She’d been wearing over a dozen of them at the time and Rowan had upset her when he’d demanded she take the others off. It had been a tearful, angry scene, and it had taken both of the brothers to resolve it.
Dean thought for some time before speaking. ‘He didn’t physically hurt her, though. That’s not in his nature.’ Ethan glanced sidelong at Dean’s pensive face, at his lowered brows and compressed lips, and guessed what was coming. ‘At least, it wasn’t until this morning,’ Dean continued.
‘Maybe this was about Bree too?’ said Ethan. ‘With what’s happening tomorrow, his mum’s bound to be on his mind. What if he’s not as okay as we thought, you know? Maybe this is the first sign that he’s holding a lot of stuff in.’
Ethan hadn’t known Bree that well, but all week his mood had nosedived whenever he thought of tomorrow. He’d wondered if it was even a good idea, but it wasn’t his place to ask. If Dean and his kids wanted to celebrate Bree’s birthday, that was their prerogative. Ethan would be there in whatever capacity they needed, and then he’d find comfort in Sam’s arms. Even though they’d been married for less than a year, Ethan had loved Samantha for about half his life; the thought of losing her did painful, blistering things to his heart. He couldn’t guess how Dean managed to keep getting up every morning, and he hoped he’d never have to find out for himself.
Dean nodded again. Ethan had given him new things to think about.
Sensing it was time for a subject change, Ethan turned the topic to something he was infinitely more knowledgeable about: renovation.
‘So with the warehouse,’ he began, ‘I think you’re overreaching. I’ve said it a dozen times and it’s too late now anyway, because we’ve built the damn thing, but I can’t visualise smart use for that space. What are you going to do with it, short of using it as a more secure place to park your muscle cars and classics? Why won’t you tell me? Are you branching out?’
If Dean expanded the business in a significant way, it would ease Ethan’s conscience. As both carpenter and project manager, Ethan was being paid for work that to his mind seemed unnecessary, unless business was doing better than Dean was letting on. ‘Are you kitting out for wheel alignment?’
Dean laughed through his nose and pushed away from the kitchen bench. He tapped an index finger to his temple. ‘No. It’s all up here.’
‘More car hoists?’
‘No.’
‘Then I could have reduced the ceiling height by half!’
‘I need it that high.’
‘For what ?’ Ethan threw his hands out, palms up, imploring his brother for more than a scrap of information. The project was nearing completion and Ethan was no wiser to its purpose than he had been at the beginning.
‘I know what I’m doing.’
Ethan sighed. ‘Okay.’ He’d tackle the subject again when Dean wasn’t in such an introspective mood. ‘Why are we doing the birthday thing tomorrow morning?’
‘Fiona isn’t available after work.’
That clinched it, Ethan thought. They were hardly going to celebrate Bree’s birthday without her mother. He nodded and rolled his shoulder in a lazy shrug. ‘I better be getting home. I didn’t tell Sammy I was going to be here so long. Is this under wraps, or what?’ He lifted his chin in Rowan’s direction. When Dean shook his head Ethan headed in the direction of the front door. ‘Until tomorrow then.’
And all the things tomorrow would bring.
Chapter Three
Raindrops rolled down the window like tears. The little bit