CHAPTER THIRTEEN

WALKER

What. The. Fuck? I’d had my suspicions when we were young, but in the past twenty-four hours that I’ve gotten to know my brother again, I’d never have guessed he was gay. Not that there’s a secret marking or sign that signals if someone is gay or trans or straight.

Even seated in the back row, I can see our father’s eyes grow wide at Jackson’s announcement before he quickly recovers his stoic countenance, but I focus my attention on Riley.

Her tastefully made-up face turned ashen. My brother shocked the fuck out of her. Either she had no idea he was gay or she had no idea he’d be standing her up at the altar. Either way, her reaction was believable.

Even the tears appear real. But what the fuck do I know? I believed her the first night I met her when she said she was single.

Jackson takes Riley’s hand in his and addresses the crowd with his political smile. I don’t know if I should be impressed or disgusted with how cool and calm he is while Riley is a train wreck ready to collapse any second.

She stumbles and Jackson gracefully guides her down the aisle littered with fucking rose petals. I clench my teeth, not sure what I’m so pissed about. Betrayal. Mine? Riley’s? I don’t even fucking know why I’m emotional right now.

No one here knows who I am. That the groom is my big brother. That the parents of the groom are also my parents. That the jilted bride-to-be has been in my bed and on my mind in the past two months more than I can count.

That I fucked her six ways to Sunday the night before my brother slid that giant rock on her finger.

Riley’s obnoxiously poofy dress brushes across my leg and I stare up at her while she stares at the floor in front of her. If she notices me, she makes no sign of it. Even through the gauzy veil, I can see the streaks of makeup on her cheeks, her frightened eyes, her ashen skin.

Part of me wants to tear her away from my brother who humiliated her in front of her friends and family, and the other part of me wants to tell her this is what she deserves for stringing me along and making me fall for her.

A flash of yellow blurs past me and I watch Kendall and Rowan in their wake, followed by Taylor. My father and mother rise from their seats and storm down the aisle as well. Lydia Bankes is the epitome of stoic. Trained to never show emotion, she’s perfectly unreadable. Sebastian, on the other hand, is clenching his jaw and forcing a smile so tight I swear he’s going to break his back molars.

Once the wedding party has left, the rest of the guests begin to stand and pile out.

“Did you know?” a woman asks her husband.

“Hell no. He’s never shown any signs at the office. Doesn’t matter. Jackson’s the best in the business. I feel bad for the bride. Madeline, is it?”

“I think her name is Meredith.”

“Margaret,” I mutter under my breath.

The man glances at me, narrows his eyes as if trying to figure out where he might know me from.

“Friend of the bride?” he asks.

Am I? I haven’t a fucking clue. Instead of saying something that will only embarrass myself and most likely Jackson and Riley, I ignore the couple and work my way through the crowd to find my brother.

I make it to the end of a hall and come to a dead end. Taking the stairs, I head up to the second floor and step into a heated conversation.

“What are you thinking, Jackson? Do you know how this makes the company look?”

“I wasn’t thinking of the company, Dad. I was thinking about Riley. And me. It’s not fair to her.”

“To her?” Sebastian scoffs. “I read the contract. She was due to get a hefty settlement. No wonder Meredith is so distraught. She just lost out on over a million dollars.”

“Ri—” I start to say from the corner I’m hiding in as Jackson says, “Margaret. Preferably Riley. And no, Riley is not upset about the money. She didn’t want any of it.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.”

“Dad. Can we not talk about this right now?”

“There’s serious damage control you need to get started on.”

“On the contrary, I don’t anticipate any. Our company is an equal opportunity employer. More than half our management team is either female, gay, or a minority. I don’t anticipate our board having an issue with me being gay.”

I lean against the wall and watch our father, expecting him to turn on Jackson. Only he doesn’t. I don’t know if I admire this about him or if it pisses me the hell off even more. Why can he be accepting of Jackson but not of me?

I’m a professional NFL player. I’m respected, sought after, and have won numerous awards. So what makes Sebastian and Lydia so ashamed of me?

The resentment that has been building for nearly all my life erupts to the surface. I push off the wall and march down the hallway toward them.

My father snaps his head my way and narrows his eyes like all of this is my fault. “What are you doing here?”

“Checking on my brother. What are you doing here?” I counter, crossing my arms over my chest.

He ignores me and turns his attention back to Jackson. “You need to get to the country club and do damage control.”

“I don’t have my car. I let Riley take it back to the hotel.”

“You let her drive?” I ask. She was in no condition to be behind the wheel.

“What if she doesn’t return your car? The Bentley is worth a hundred grand.”

Fucking Sebastian would worry more about the hunk of steel than a human being.

“She was okay to drive, and the hotel isn’t far.”

“I think I have everything,” Kendall says, coming out of the room we’re standing in front of, a large bag draped over her shoulder.

“We’ll take care of her,” Rowan says, placing a hand on Jackson’s shoulder.

Shouldn’t Riley’s friends be pissed at him? I’m so fucking confused right now. I hate that the only people who seem upset over this shitshow are Riley, my father, and me.

“I’ll go with you to the club, Mr. Bankes. Jackson, you can take my car.” Taylor hands Jackson his keys, and their hands linger longer than I’d expect for a quick hand off.

“Fine.” Sebastian straightens his coat. “Don’t take too long. You have board members and investors who will want a word with you.”

When they’re gone and it’s just my brother and me in the hallway, Jackson’s shoulders relax. “Thanks for sticking around.”

I narrow my eyes on him. He’s Mr. Popular. I’ve been back in his life for less than twenty-four hours. There has to be someone else he confides in.

“What happened?”

He tucks his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels. “You were there.”

“Why now?”

“It’s not exactly now . I’ve always been gay.”

“Cut the shit, Jack. Why let Riley go through all the planning for a wedding, spend however the fuck many hours women spend getting ready, and then embarrass her in front of her friends and family.”

Jackson chuckles. “You don’t know her very well, do you bro?”

He’s right, but I hate how smug he sounds. Like he knows her better than I do. Which I’m sure he does to some capacity. But if he’s gay, there’s no way he could have loved and worshiped and memorized every curve on Riley’s body like I have.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He pats my shoulder and squeezes it. “Care to give me a lift?”

“To the country club? Fuck no. I’m not stepping foot in that place.”

“Thought you came to the wedding for me.” He gives me a sly smile.

At first, sure. I came to Rhode Island to congratulate him on his engagement two months ago. And then I met Riley.

And yesterday I came to show my support for his marriage. Until I learned the bride was Riley.

“I’m kidding. There’s a decent bar not far from the club. Buy me a drink?”

Because I need answers, I follow him out and drive us to the outskirts of town. Once we’re seated at a semi-private table and he has a scotch and I have a beer, he starts talking.

“Riley and I met when I attended one of her Pilates classes. We hit it off instantly. A few years later, I told her about Dad’s stipulation on my trust, and she agreed to marry me if I was still single and couldn’t change the contract.”

“Wait. What? Real people don’t do that.”

“Agree to marry or put fucking stupid shit stipulations on trusts?”

“Both.”

“Dad cares about his image. He doesn’t want the next CEO of Bankes to be a single bachelor. Family image is everything to him.”

I loop my pinky around the neck of my bottle and lift it to my lips. “Bull. Fucking. Shit.”

“The company’s image.” Jackson leans forward on his elbows. “I’m sorry as hell for being so self-absorbed and not looking out for you, little brother. I was in my first year at Yale when the ‘rents shipped you off to boarding school. I was so wrapped up in being cool, hiding my identity, and studying my ass off that I never considered what you were going through. After I got my MBA and started interning and eventually working at Bankes Inc., I was so caught up in the business world and pleasing Dad that I...” He lets out a sigh. “That I never gave you much thought. I’m an asshole for that. I hope we can start over.”

Maybe. Do I want a relationship with my brother? Hell yeah. But I still have too many unanswered questions.

“What about Riley? Why would she agree to marry you? Did she know you were gay?”

Jackson takes a sip of his scotch. “Yeah.”

I swallow my beer and digest his response. “So—”

“So why did she agree to marry me? Was it for the money? Partly. But not really.” Jackson runs his finger along the rim of his glass. He picks at the coaster, and I see him struggling to find the right words.

I’m not sure if he’s trying to figure out a way to spin a lie or if he’s struggling with how to tell me the truth.

He hunches his shoulders and rests his elbows on the table. “Everything I said back at the church is true. I love Riley. She’s one of my closest friends.”

I want to ask if Taylor is his other close friend. Not that I care, but it would mean Riley is free. Well, he did just free her from the commitment of marriage. I sit quietly waiting for him to gather his words. The truth, hopefully.

“In short, yeah. She’s known. She’s also known about the stipulation on my trust fund. I need to be married by thirty-five to have total access, and according to Dad, the CEO needs to be married. So, if I want my inheritance and the company, I need to be married.”

“Why can’t you marry Taylor?”

Jackson’s head snaps up and he stares at me. “How did you know?”

I shrug and finish my beer.

“Fuck. Is it that obvious?” The color drains from Jackson’s tanned face.

“What are you worried about? You’ve already outed yourself.”

“Me, sure. But not him. His firm is run by old school assholes who don’t see all people as equals. I’d marry him in a heartbeat if I didn’t think it would jeopardize his career.”

“But you’d jeopardize Riley’s future?”

Guilt adds a layer of color to his face. “I was securing her future. And we were planning on divorcing in five years.”

I lean back and fold my arms across my chest while I soak in his words. I still don’t know how I feel about what Riley said and didn’t say to me. If what we had was real.

“The one thing I felt the most guilty about was taking away the chance for her to get pregnant and have kids. Do you want a family, Walker?”

I blink in surprise at his question. I’ve never cared about having a family of my own. Not having role models or any support in learning how to raise a kid, I never banked on having a family. Maybe if and when the right woman came along.

Riley’s golden ponytail and wide smile fill my mind. I can feel the softness of her skin, the shape of her curves under my hands, the sound of her laughter, of her moans as I make her come.

“Walker?”

I shift in my seat. “What was that?”

“Kids. Do you want kids?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Probably not. Not right now.”

“Are you seeing anyone?”

I can still taste Riley’s strawberry lip gloss and the chocolate torte on her lips we shared during our date a few nights ago.

“No.”

“Interested in anyone?”

Riley’s laughter rings in my ears. I can feel her kisses on my neck. My cock twitches at the memory of her lips wrapped around it, sucking me to the back of her throat.

“No.”

“Hm. That’s too bad.” Jackson takes out a fifty and slips it under his empty glass. “I should head to the club.”

We’re quiet during the ten-minute drive. When I pull up to the front of the club, Jackson unfastens his belt and reaches for the door, pausing before he opens it.

“My biggest concern about marrying Riley was taking away the chance of her having kids. Not to get into her personal story, but her chances of getting pregnant aren’t great. Divorcing at thirty-five wouldn’t leave her much time to find a guy, fall in love, settle down, get married again, and have a family.”

Why is he telling me this? I feel bad for her if she wants a family and can’t have one. I can’t imagine being a woman and having to live with that worry. Hell, I can’t imagine being a woman and carrying a child for nine months.

“I encouraged her to live her best life right up until the moment I shackled her to me for five years. Even encouraged her to get knocked up if she wanted. I think she found her happiness these past few months. That's why I called off the wedding.” Jackson opens the door and climbs out. He leans in and pierces me with his blue eyes. “Whatever you’re thinking, she didn’t do anything wrong or out of malice. Don’t hurt her. Especially not in her condition.”

He closes the door and walks into the country club. I stare at his back and let his words soak in. Did he just...

Did Jackson just give me his blessing to be with Riley?

And what did he mean by her condition?

He didn’t mean...

She can’t be...

Well, fuck.