22. Why Carrick Hunt Sucks Balls

TWENTY-TWO

#5 he calls me sweethart. ewww

"What in the actual fuck? It's a goddamn blizzard out there, and only half the streets are plowed. Fucking New York. This is why I never come here."

Peeking around the corner from the living room, I watched a man who could have been Nathan's body double march into the foyer with the grace of a tank, shake snow off an ankle-length wool coat, and turn around with a face that looked almost exactly like Nathan's, but for the missing glasses and lack of underlying kindness.

Those eyes might have also been brown, but everything about them was glacial.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" The man stripped off his coat and tossed it to Nathan, who hung it on one of the hooks near the door. "This the dancer that's giving Mom conniption fits?"

"Carrick, this is Joni, my girlfriend. Joni, this is my brother, Carrick Hunt." Nathan sounded less than excited to make the introduction.

"Nice to meet you," I said with a little wave.

Carrick's smile lacked any warmth whatsoever. "You too, sweetheart." He turned to his brother. "Nate, seriously. I need a drink, and I need it yesterday. My toes are about to fall off."

Nathan rolled his eyes. "There's a bottle of Macallan in the kitchen."

With a grunt, Carrick turned in that direction.

I looked down at his shoes, which were tracking water and ice down the hall. "Do you mind leaving your shoes at the door? We try to keep the floors clean."

Was it me, or did Nathan's eyes sparkle when I said that?

"As it happens, yes, I do mind," said Carrick before he bared a set of bright white teeth in a wolfish grin. "I'm a grown man, so I don't pad around in my socks like a fucking toddler."

"Then you must be ready to mop up after yourself since I'm not going to fucking do it," I retorted before I even considered speaking to Nathan's brother with a little more respect.

Everyone in the hall froze. Carrick stopped halfway to the kitchen as if he saw me for the first time. That icy gaze pulled down my body, pausing on my bared leg.

"You sure about that, sweetheart?" he asked. "I bet my brother wouldn't mind watching you bent over, doing a little scrubbing in that dress."

"That's enough." Nathan shoved a hand on Carrick's chest and pushed him back toward the door. "There are slippers for guests in the hall closet. And if you talk to Joni like that again, you'll need to leave."

"Not before I slap him in his smug face," I muttered, though they both clearly heard me.

To my surprise, Carrick's grin only widened. "I like this one," he said as he shook a finger toward me and retreated to the closet to find Nathan's spare slippers. "Mom's gonna love her."

I frowned. What was that supposed to mean?

"Joni."

I looked up to find Nathan making a small gesture toward my dress.

"Do you maybe want to change?" His ears turned a little pink, right on the lobes. "Not that I don't like the dress, but, um…"

My eyes popped open. "Right! Yes. I'll be back."

"I'll make you a drink too," Nathan said as his brother lumbered toward the kitchen, likely in search of something similar.

I nodded. "Thanks. I have a feeling I'll need one."

Ten minutes later, I reemerged from my bedroom in a more, well, if not respectable, then at least more conservative set of tie-dyed purple sweatpants and a vintage I Love Lucy T-shirt. I found Nathan back on the couch, his brother sipping scotch in the armchair, and both of them half-watching a Knicks game on silent. A neatly made drink was waiting for me on the coffee table—a vodka soda, by the look of it.

I smiled. Nathan really did notice the small things.

"What are you doing here anyway?" Nathan was asking Carrick when I joined him on the couch. "Why aren't you staying at the house in Westchester with Mom and Dad?"

He was reaching across the back of the sofa, and this time, I let my body curl into his, the way I might if he were really my boyfriend. His arm fell naturally over my shoulder, and his thumb brushed my neck as he played with the pieces of hair escaping from my bun.

Carrick's eyes darted over us, appearing to take in every little detail of our ruse. He didn't even bother to hide his surprise at the way his brother touched me. Our affection and familiarity must have been uncommon.

My heart squeezed a little at the thought. Nathan deserved affection. The idea that he hadn't given or received much of it made me sad. And more than a little bit angry.

Carrick just made a face at us. "Mom's on a warpath. I needed a break. At home and here."

"Did something happen to the townhouse in Georgetown?"

Carrick took a long slug of his whiskey. "No, but she's been following me there too. I woke up last Monday with a girl in my bed, listening to Mom making coffee while she yelled at NPR."

I listened curiously, gathering the small facts about Nathan's family like Easter eggs. After he'd told me a little about them, I had, like any self-respecting human being, done a Google search. And discovered that his parents weren't just "investors," but that his family's overall worth was more than a hundred billion dollars. And that after a childless first marriage, Radford Hunt and his second wife, Lillian, had had three sons that, yes, he very much wanted to take over his legacy now that he was in his eighties. Specifically Nathan.

One hundred. Billion. Dollars.

It was one thing to see it on Google. It was another thing completely to fathom that my calm, unpretentious Nathan was worth that kind of dough.

Or maybe he wasn't. Maybe he'd rebelled more than he let on.

It did make me feel better about accepting all the clothes, though. Talk about a drop in the freaking bucket.

Even so, it had all seemed theoretical until now, listening to Nathan and his brother talk about houses like they were pieces of plastic on a Monopoly board or couches they'd crashed on when visiting from out of town. But we also weren't that different. They complained about their mother's meddling the same way my siblings and I bitched about Nonna when we were teenagers. The way I still griped about my siblings even when I yearned for family dinner.

There was a pang in my chest at the idea of those dinners. I hadn't been to Mass in weeks—hadn't had my grandmother to drag me there. I'd barely spoken to any of my sisters besides Marie. Hadn't even gone up to check on my nephews.

My family was messy, yeah. But they were my mess.

"You know, one day, your mom won't be there to pester you, and then you'll miss it," I said before thinking. "Then where will you be?"

Both men blinked at me like they'd almost forgotten I was there. Only then did I think that maybe commenting on my fake boyfriend and his unfriendly brother's relationship with their mother maybe wasn't the best way to make a first impression.

Carrick gave me a hard look, then turned back to Nathan. "So, how did you love birds meet?"

I shrank into Nathan, whose hand tightened on my shoulder. We'd discussed a story, of course, but he knew I was terrible with details, and frankly, I didn't trust myself not to screw things up. In the end, we'd basically settled on "stay as close to the truth as possible and follow Nathan's lead" if this line of questioning happened.

Looked like that time was here.

"At a bar," Nathan said. "Joni mixes drinks at a lounge near the hospital. I stopped in after my night shift, and we talked."

Carrick looked dumbfounded. "You stopped in for a drink? And talked to a stranger?" He looked around the room like he thought someone might jump out from a curtain with a camera. "Who are you, and what did you do with my big brother?"

I nuzzled into Nathan. "He can be chatty under the right circumstances."

Carrick snorted. "Like what? The end of times?"

"It was a bad night," Nathan put in. "I'd just lost a patient. Joni helped."

"I didn't know that," I murmured and reached over to pull his hand into my lap.

Vaguely, I remembered him being upset that night. Now, I was kind of annoyed I'd never thought to ask about it. Too wrapped up in my own stupid self, like Lea said.

Nathan's eyes met mine, large and mournful, as his fingers tickled my nape. "It's not something I like to talk about when it happens. It's rare, but it's always a risk."

"Who was it, another mommy makeover?" Carrick snickered. "It's gotta get old staring at so many saggy tits, man."

I glared at him. Asshole.

Carrick seemed to think that was even funnier.

"Cosmetic surgeries are only about half of what I do, as I've told you several times." Nathan's tone was cold, but his hand clutched mine hard, full of heat. "Most of my days are spent dealing with burn victims."

I looked up at him again. "Really?"

His eyes warmed when they met mine. "Really. I specialize in reconstruction."

Another piece of the puzzle that was Nathan Hunt clicked into place. The fact that he didn't just spend every day enabling women like me to get bigger breasts for bigger tips, but actually helped people recover from major trauma, made a lot more sense, given his personality.

But it still didn't explain why he had chosen this path rather than following the one his family had set out for him. The one they still wanted him to follow.

"How long ago was that?" Carrick asked as he slouched back in his chair.

"Almost five months," I supplied cheerily since, apparently, we were telling the truth. "If you count the first four after we met when we barely spoke."

"Five months?" Carrick looked between us, glass halfway to his mouth. "And she's already moved in?"

Nathan shrugged. "Neither of us has a lot of free time, so when her living situation fell through and Aiden moved out, it made sense for her to be here. I like having her around."

I grinned up at him. "Aw, babe, I like being around you too."

I found myself searching for the lie. For any sign that it was just an act. Because it was an act. I had to keep telling myself that.

Nathan's full mouth curled in a mischievous half-smile, as if he was enjoying playing this game as much as I was.

Unthinking, I toyed with the hem of his shirt, playing my fingertips over the ridges of his lower stomach. It was nothing I wouldn't have done in a typical relationship, but it clearly caught him by surprise as the muscles contracted immediately under my touch.

Nathan leaned down to put his mouth by my ear and speak in a gruff, low voice. "Unless you want me to molest you in front of my brother, you need to stop doing that immediately."

I froze and pulled my hand away. "Oh. Sorry."

His other hand closed over mine again, keeping it where it was—on top of his clothes but still on his person. "Don't be."

We blinked at each other for a moment.

On impulse, I kissed him. Just a stamp, barely a peck, but the hand at my nape threaded into my hair and held me a second longer than I planned.

His tongue touched mine, but only just. When I pulled back, my face was heated. His cheeks were also pinked.

We both turned back to find Carrick watching us. Unfortunately, he looked more suspicious than ever.

Was it that strange to be seeing his brother kissing a girl?

"Sounds like you're positively stewing in domestic bliss, brother," he said as he rotated his glass in his hand. "And what do you guys like to do with all this ‘free time' you have together now?"

"Reading," Nathan said at the same time I spouted, "Netflix and chill."

Our eyes met in a collision of awkward.

"Um, right," I amended. "Yeah. Reading. Love it."

Under my hand, Nathan chuffed like a tiger. He knew exactly how much I liked to read.

"Is that right?" Carrick asked. "Got a little book club going between you?"

"Actually, yes," I said a little too quickly. "We just read, um…"

"The Great Gatsby," Nathan supplied. "It's a classic. In honor of the apartment."

I snorted, unable to keep back the laugh. He really did remember every little thing.

"Nate's favorite book, huh?" Carrick replied, looking at me.

My eyes bugged. "Oh, yeah. Man, it's so good, don't you think?"

I was terrible at this. I hadn't been able to fake book discussions in high school either, so why had I chosen to lie about one now?

"Joni had never read it, so I read it to her," Nathan said smoothly as he went back to playing with my hair.

The calming effect was instant.

"Oh, yeah? What was your favorite part, Joni?" Carrick asked. "Hope you paid attention. Nate was obsessed with that book in college."

Oh, Nathan, you adorable, beautiful dork.

"Well, the part about Gatsby, of course," I replied, fully conscious of how lame my response was.

"Who is…?" Carrick pressed.

I frowned. What was this, a book report? I never passed those either, even when I had legitimately tried to read the book. "The main character, obviously."

"The one who defrauds people into thinking he's someone else," Nathan put in. He looked down at me. "It doesn't matter how rich he is, how many parties he throws, he can never be something he's not, which is really just a man from North Dakota."

"It's a good lesson," Carrick remarked, looking at me. "There are some worlds you just can't break into. No matter how good the costume."

I blinked as remnants of the plot—at least the one I knew—came back to me. "Oh, right! Yeah, the movie version was kind of crazy, though. Leo DiCaprio is hot enough to play that Gatsby guy, but I did not think Beyoncé fit the twenties."

"We like to compare the adaptations to the books," Nathan confirmed oh-so-naturally. Which, for him, was about as stiff as one of his cutting boards.

As lies went, these weren't our best. Nathan didn't seem to have any experience at all with bullshitting people, and I had a feeling his brother knew that very well. Which was why I threw my legs over Nathan's knees and pulled his face back to mine for another kiss, this one with enough tongue to last a solid minute.

Or at least until Carrick was uncomfortable enough to clear his throat.

Twice.

When I sat back up with a satisfied grin, Nathan looked a bit dazed. He shook his head and smiled. I was full of grins.

Carrick glowered at both of us.

"If you're done," he said. "It's getting late."

Nathan sighed and gently removed my legs from his. "Did you get a room at the Waldorf or the Plaza? I'll have the doorman call you a car."

Carrick was still eyeing me like I was about to grow a nose like Pinocchio. Whatever we thought we were doing, it wasn't working. Not with him.

"Actually, I think I'll just crash here," he said. "Avoid the snow. Spend some time with my brother. Get to know his girl."

Dread sank to the bottom of my stomach as I stood too. "Um…well…"

Carrick leered. "That's okay, isn't it? I assume you're sharing a bedroom, so there's a free room, right?"

Nathan and I traded petrified glances. There was absolutely no way out of this.

"You don't—" Nathan started to murmur before I cut him off with another pasted-on smile for Carrick.

"Of course," I said. "I just need to make up the bed and put my clothes away. Nathan's closet is too small for all of mine. You understand."

Carrick held up his glass as if to cheer my words. "Take your time, sweetheart. I got all night."

I nodded and left the room, only barely hearing Nathan mutter something about needing to help me before he followed me into my room and shut the door.

"We don't have to do this," Nathan said as I immediately started hanging the dresses I'd been trying on back into the closet. "I can come up with something else. Tell him I'm ill or something. Or just that I don't want him here, which is actually true."

"And give him another reason to think this is all fake?" I started stripping the bed. "You're a shit liar, by the way."

Nathan smirked. "And you're any better?"

I chuckled as I tossed my used sheets onto the floor and grabbed the spare set from the closet. While I didn't love this situation, I did enjoy the fact that Carrick would have to spend the night in my tiny twin bed wrapped in Strawberry Shortcake bedding that was bought circa 1988 and had made its way through five Zola girls. Nosy bastard deserved it.

"Look, it's a bed, not a pit of lava," I said. "We can share it for a week, don't you think?"

Nathan did not appear to share my optimism.

"I don't bite," I tried again. "And you could fit a family of five on your mattress. You won't even know I'm there." I stopped, arms full of my duvet. "Unless you want to call this off. Which, I wouldn't blame you. Lying to your family isn't easy."

That seemed to shake him out of it.

"If they find out you're not really my girlfriend, I'll never hear the end of it. Among other things." Nathan grabbed a pillow and started tearing off the case. "You can sleep in my bed until he leaves. With luck, it'll only be for the night."