Chapter 31

Nate was expecting his brothers to be waiting at the airport for him, but Charlie was a surprise. Hell, he wasn’t even sure his friend was ever going to talk to him after the stunt he’d just pulled. But they were all there, crowded around Owen’s white Jeep, in big jackets and beanies except for Teddy. He had a pair of fluffy grey ear warmers on.

“Hey,” Nate said as he walked out of the special airport only used by private planes. Jemima Jenkins hadn’t just done him a favour; she’d saved his ass.

“A little birdie told us we’d find you here, Nathaniel,” Teddy drawled, hopping off the bonnet. Nate owed Garrett a case of his favourite whisky.

“Thought we’d give you a lift home,” Owen said.

“You’re in the back, dude.” Teddy pushed him towards the rear passenger side door, claiming the front seat for himself. Raff gestured for Nate to get in.

This was a fresh start. He’d been telling himself that the whole way home. If he wanted his life to change, he had to make it happen.

He scooted into the middle just as Charlie opened the opposite door and climbed in. Well, this wasn’t awkward at all.

“Don’t think I’m not pissed as hell at you for making my sister cry,” his friend said, and Nate’s stomach bottomed out. Knowing he’d hurt Eloise caused a pain he’d never experienced before.

“But we’ve known each other for too long for me to not recognise something bigger is going on here and friends stick together. Do it again, though, and I make you no promises …”

The engine rumbled, vibrations rolling through the car as Owen gave it a minute to warm up, fiddling with the air vents. Rafferty’s and Charlie’s shoulders pinned Nate in place and, rather than find it disconcerting, he swallowed a smile. Despite everything he’d done, they’d all shown up for him. Like they always did. Why had he ever thought keeping so much from the people who loved him was a good idea?

“How was your trip?” Raff asked once they’d left the airport car park and merged onto the highway.

“Long. And short.” Nate scratched his beard.

“Seemed to come out of nowhere.” Owen’s tone was measured.

“Jemima Jenkins is adapting my books into a television show,” Nate replied. “I went to finalise the deal, which can’t leave the car because the contract I signed is bigger than my head.”

He brushed away the congratulations his brothers offered him, painfully aware that Charlie was still staring out the window. Cramped into the backseat together, it was impossible not to notice the hard set to his jaw, even if he was directing his frown at the trees and cars whipping past them.

Making himself small had created so many problems for Nate. No more, though. Placing his hands on his knees, he exhaled slowly. Remembered everyone in this car wanted him to be happy, even if they were angry with him right now. Jesus, he was angrier at himself than any of them could have been.

Being in such a small space with so many other big guys should’ve felt oppressive. And, yeah, it probably would’ve been easier to talk about this after a few beers and one of Lulu’s famous roast lamb dinners. But Nate had to stop waiting for the right moment because that wasn’t how life worked. “That’s not why I went. Not really.”

“We figured as much,” Raff said.

“Is everything okay?” Teddy asked, twisting in his seat as much as his too-tall body would allow him.

“I’m a private person,” Nate started, thankful when Owen took one of his hands off the steering wheel to playfully smack Teddy, whose mouth was curling into the universal ‘no shit’ shape. Nate could imagine the quip right on the tip of his youngest brother’s tongue.

“You all know what happened with Cobie. At college, before the draft.” Nate clasped his hands together, homing in on the coldness of his skin.

“We know you broke up because she was cheating, and you felt like she was using you.” Trust Raff to calmly state the facts, his years of detective training on show.

Nate rubbed his left thumb against the palm of his right hand, felt the bones underneath. “And you know about the baby. The one that wasn’t mine.”

“Thank God it wasn’t yours,” Teddy muttered.

Nate directed his next statement at his hands, not wanting to see their reactions. He’d carried the shame of his infertility around for years, and it was going to take more than a couple of conversations to untangle himself from the way it made him feel. But every step was progress and deserved to be recognised.

“She’d been trying to get pregnant for over two years. And it hadn’t happened.”

In his peripheral vision, Raff shifted forward and buried his hands in his face. Nate was probably the only one who heard the quiet “oh shit” that slipped from his oldest brother’s lips. It wouldn’t take long for the others to reach the same conclusion, but Nate couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth. He’d spent so long keeping them in, and now they were flowing out of him like a faucet.

“I went to see the team doctor afterwards. To get checked out. STIs, you know. But also …” Nate cleared his throat and took a deep breath, told himself that he could do this. He could do hard things.

“Nate …” He looked up and met Owen’s eyes in the rear-view mirror. And there it was. But instead of pity in his brother’s eyes, Nate recognised it for what it truly was. Sorrow.

“I can’t have kids.” Those words had to be pushed out, bitterness lingering on his tongue. His chest tightened so painfully it was like he’d just been pummelled by the biggest guy on the field.

“Fuck.” Teddy’s face was stricken. Nate was sure his was too.

The drone of the road noise filled the car as everyone absorbed what Nate had said.

“Like not at all?” Teddy asked after a few seconds.

“No. I don’t have any swimmers.”

“There are other paths to parenthood like fostering and adoption. Donor sperm via IVF,” Charlie said quietly, cautiously, with no hint of the frustration Nate deserved in his tone.

“It’s okay. I’ve accepted it. It’s just the way some things go. I’ve been so lucky in so many other ways?—”

Raff cut him off, a hardness to his voice that Nate didn’t expect. “There isn’t a fixed amount of luck that people get access to, Nate. That’s not how these things work. And you worked fucking hard for everything you achieved. You still do. You deserve everything you want. Just like everyone else.”

“Were things getting too serious with Eloise?” Owen asked.

“Things have always been too serious with Eloise.” Nate raised his hand when Charlie opened his mouth to speak. “Not in a bad way. Or because of anything she’s done. She’s absolutely magic in every way. I’ve known for a long time that she’s always been it for me, and I agreed to this stupid deal thinking it was the only way I could ever have her. I figured she’d realise there was a big, wide world out there while she was away and find someone better who could offer her everything she wants. But really, I was just being selfish. Because if anyone deserves to have all their dreams come true, it’s Eloise.”

“What she deserves is to know the truth,” Charlie said softly.

Nate nodded. “When we were at the hospital the other day, I overheard you all joking around about your wedding, when you’d have kids, all that sort of stuff.”

Charlie paled. “Fuck.”

The tightness in Nate’s chest eased a little. “You didn’t know.”

“What didn’t he know?” Raff asked.

“Charlie said something silly, just a throwaway line?—”

“No, no. I said it. I’ll take responsibility for it. I made a crack about Nate being such a stud that they’d end up with triplets the first time. I didn’t mean it. I just didn’t … think.” Charlie winced, pushing his sunglasses up onto his forehead. “I do that a lot, don’t I?”

“It’s not just you. Everyone does. Plenty of other people think it’s perfectly fine to talk about people’s lives without considering that it might be something painful for them. The worst bit …” Nate paused, throat bobbing as he tried to swallow the brick of pain that had formed in it. He covered his face with his hands. “The worst bit was hearing Eloise say that she wanted us to be together and to have kids. It’s the one thing I can’t give her.”

Nate felt rather than heard Raff’s deep breath, knowing his brother had found himself in a similar—albeit caused by very different circumstances—position not all that long ago.

“The fuck you can’t. Now might not be the time to bring this up and I know it’s not the same thing, but I’d donate sperm if that was something you were interested in,” Teddy said.

“So would I.” Raff nodded.

“I’d have to talk to Alice, but I don’t think she’d mind,” Owen added.

Nate choked out a laugh.

“But we can talk about it another time, and only if you want to. You don’t have to make those kinds of decisions until you’re ready. We just want you to be happy,” Owen said.

“You gotta remember that there’s no problem the James brothers can’t solve.” Teddy’s grin wasn’t as wide as it usually was, but it was enough to pull a small smile from Nate.

“What’s next?” Charlie asked.

Nate looked out the windscreen, his chest lighter than it had been in years. Sharing would never be easy, but he could already feel the difference. “It’s time for me to start taking up space.”

* * *

“If you’re callingto see if I’m available for a sleepover, the answer’s no,” was how Bianca answered Nate’s call.

He paused, swallowing a laugh. Life would’ve been much easier if he’d followed Bianca’s lead initially. Not into her bed, but rather just being honest and upfront about who he really was and what he wanted. “That’s not why I’m calling.”

“Didn’t think so.”

“I was hoping you could do me a favour.” He paced the length of his lounge room, stopping only to give Echo a pat. She was still a bit pissy at him for leaving so suddenly. She was going to be very grumpy when she found out his plans for the next few months, but if Nate got his way, Echo would be earning some frequent flyer points of her own very soon.

“Hmm?”

“I’ve changed my mind about the interview.”

“Jesus, Nate. No. We’ve already started and now you want me to call my editor and say you’re pulling out entirely? We have a contract.”

A piece of paper poked out from underneath his couch, and Nate picked it up. It was one of Eloise’s sketches. She must’ve forgotten it in her rush to leave. Slowly, he walked over to his fridge and stuck it to the front.

“It’s not that,” he said. “I want to expand my profile. Talk about the stuff I’ve avoided speaking publicly about for the last few years. Why I walked away from my football career and moved home.”

There was a long pause. “This feels like a trap,” Bianca said.

“It isn’t.”

Bianca’s tone was still suspicious. “Why the change of heart?”

“It’s simple,” Nate said. “Change is hard and scary, but I’m working on something new and I’d like people to hear about it from me first.”

* * *

Coffee.

Eloise needed coffee. Preferably one as big as her head. She slipped her favourite jumper over her head and pushed the sleeves up a little. Plaiting her hair quickly, she ran through the mental to-do list of everything she needed to do that day. Before the final wedding rehearsal—seriously, how many times did they have to practise walking, aka a skill they’d all mastered as toddlers—Eloise had promised Alice she’d help put the candle bonbonnieres to match the wattle and eucalyptus soaps she and Mary had made on the tables. Then she could feign exhaustion and go to bed super early. Like six o’clock early.

She pushed open the door to the kitchen and froze. Bacon sizzled in the pan in front of her mother. Was she imagining it, or did it smell like Nate in here? Then she saw the two loaves of sourdough wrapped in navy and white checked tea towels on the kitchen counter. Their perfect golden crusts shone under the pendant lights above the bench.

“No one saw him, but they’re still hot,” Mary said.

“And there was a note,” Joanie piped up before her mouth stretched into a wide yawn.

Eloise’s gaze snapped to the cream envelope next to the bread. Her name was written on the front in Nate’s hurried script.

“Your mother wouldn’t let me read it. Or have a coffee even though the doctor said I could,” Joanie said over the rim of her water glass.

“I didn’t know he was back,” Eloise said more to herself than anyone else. She wasn’t prepared to see him yet.

“What can we do to help?” Mary asked as she set the tongs down on the ceramic holder next to the cooker.

Make it all go away?

“Nothing,” Eloise said brightly, pretending that filling her keep cup required all her concentration.

“Would you like any of this?” Mary pointed the spatula at the pans of fluffy eggs and crispy bacon.

Eloise grabbed an apple and her coffee. “I’m not hungry. I’ll see you all later.”

She was almost at the door when her grandmother’s voice broke the silence in the room. “At least see what he has to say, Eloise.” She passed her the envelope and patted her on the shoulder.

She waited until she was in her car to slide her thumb under the seal of the envelope. The edges of the paper were torn and rough like Nate had been in a hurry; maybe he’d yanked the page out of the notepad. She unfolded it slowly. There was none of his usual careful precision or elegant artistic presentation. The message was short, but it still stole her breath.

Eloise — Words are just words if they’re not followed by action. I’m so sorry, and I’m going to show you how much. — Nate

* * *

Alice had outdone herself.Truly. Eloise knew she’d been making candles for Charlie and Sera, but she hadn’t realised Alice had made several different scents, each inspired by places that were important to her brother and his fiancée. Sera’s parents and relatives were each getting a special Texan combination of leather, pine and mountain laurel. Her cheerleading friends would each be gifted floral-scented candles that packed a punch on the afternote, an homage to their strength and fitness. But the one that really floored her? That she’d stolen a sniff of when she put it down in front of her place setting at what felt like the world’s longest bridal table. It was simply called ‘Home Is Where the Wattle Is’.

Eloise lifted the candle and sniffed it again. It smelt like her mother’s garden with an afternote of something woody and floral, a tiny hint of honey. Alice had spent ages with Mary, sourcing scents that would mimic the flowers that Eloise had grown up with. Eloise put the candle down and moved to the next one.

Nate was written on the box.

Carefully, she opened the box and placed Nate’s candle in front of his place setting. She checked the label was facing the right way, her gaze catching on the candle’s name written in delicate cursive underneath his name.

Home Is Where My Heart Is.

“Alice made it especially for me,” his deep voice said behind her. Eloise’s heart stuttered. She should’ve been expecting him, really.

“Wasn’t real happy about it either. Or with me. I got in a lot of trouble for being such a jackass.”

She steeled her jaw before she turned to face him. Dark circles framed Nate’s eyes, and his hair was a mess, all windblown and wild.

“Not that I’m complaining. I deserved it.”

Eloise blinked, trying to process his words before hiding behind a mask of bland indifference. “What do you want, Nate?”

“I thought it might be easier if we talked before the wedding rehearsal, but if you’re not ready or you’re too busy, I can wait.”

“I’m busy,” Eloise lied, not wanting to do this now. Maybe not ever.

“Can I help?”

“You should ask Alice.” Eloise shrugged. Due to the sheer size of the reception, her best friend was basically several suburbs away, her red hair and gold sequined jacket lost between the towering floral arrangements in the middle of each table.

Nate nodded and reached forward, and for a single, terrifying moment, Eloise thought he was going to touch her. Pull her close and say the words she’d wanted to hear for so long, but he’d made it clear that was never going to happen. She dropped her chin to her chest and shuffled sideways. Of course, he was here to apologise. Nate was a good guy. He just wasn’t her guy because not all stories were fairytales.

“I just wanted to smell this one first, please,” Nate murmured as he lifted his candle to his nose. His eyelashes fluttered closed, his mouth twisting into an expression Eloise couldn’t read. “It’s perfect. Want to smell it?” He held it towards her.

“I’ve got the same one.” Eloise pointed at the candle with her name on it. So what if Alice had accidentally got the wording on Nate’s label wrong. It was the only one and no one would notice.

“This one’s a special edition. Just for me. Alice made it yesterday, in between calling me a lot of names that I deserved. Made me promise to make her gluten-free sourdough for the rest of her life. Please?”

“Fine.” She took the candle from him and sniffed deeply. It was nothing like hers. Vanilla tickled her nose, followed by something sweet like berries and birthday cake. “It smells like me,” she whispered. Why had Nate done this? And called it home? Or had that been Alice’s idea? What did it all mean? She looked up at Nate. His eyes were full of regret and worry and something else. Something dangerous.

A tiny bit of hope.

“I have some things for you, and I have so much I want to tell you. To explain.”

She was about to reply when her phone rang. Eloise winced. “It’s Bianca. I better …” She gestured towards the mobile.

“Oh, yeah, of course.”

She half listened while Bianca explained about some problem with the dresses that truthfully didn’t really sound like an issue to Eloise. Certainly not one that would require almost twenty women to sort out. When Bianca insisted she go to the bridal suite … Eloise stopped listening. She was just so done with this wedding and trying to be everything for everyone. If Eloise was truly entering her main character era, then it was long past time she started taking some of the advice she regularly doled out to her clients.

“You know what?” She said into the phone. “I can’t come right now. You’ll have to figure it out without me.”

Nate opened his mouth, but Eloise held up her hand and hung up on Bianca before shifting her attention back to him. “And before you start, I need to say something. It hurt me when you left. It was like you discarded everything we’d shared and reduced it to nothing. And I didn’t understand why. I still don’t understand why, but I know I didn’t deserve that.” Her voice was reed thin by the end, but the pride unfurling inside her body was a soothing balm to all the hurt she’d been carrying around. “I need to work on setting boundaries. I’ve been letting myself be treated a certain way because it was easier than causing a fuss or possibly upsetting other people. I’m not going to do that anymore. So if you still want to talk, I’m prepared to listen, but this time, you owe me the truth. If you can’t do that, then this is the end of the road for our friendship and whatever else we were.”

This time she could read Nate’s expression. It was pride. “Don’t let me off easy, Tiger,” he said quietly, “because you do deserve better and I meant what I said in my note. Actions. Not words. Let me show you how sorry I am, please.”

Fine. She nodded. And then she’d decide if it was good enough for her.