The Ransome Brothers Read online

  Wyatt pulls away, not meeting my eye. “It just makes me sad,” he mutters, twisting his fingers into the brand new comforter.

  “What makes you sad?”

  Wyatt looks up and his eyes are dark in his face. I once again have to fight the urge to go get Sam. “That we don’t all live together.”

  I release the breath I was holding, having no idea what to say to that. I know that Wyatt hasn’t always had it easy when it comes to his living situation. Sam wasn’t able to take care of him after his dad died and Wyatt grew up with his grandparents—who are great, really, and Wyatt loves them. But they aren’t his mom. These days Wyatt is spending more time living with Sam, but I know it’s something he still struggles with.

  What I didn’t know is that I might play into that struggle at all. I’ve always assumed it’s just Sam that Wyatt misses during the week when she’s living and working in Seattle and Wyatt stays with his grandparents in nearby Huntington. And I have absolutely no idea what to say to the kid to make it better.

  “It makes me sad, too,” I finally say, deciding I might as well go with honesty. “I’m always bummed out when I’m not with you guys.”

  “Then why don’t you do something about it?” Wyatt asks, his voice uncharacteristically sharp.

  “Wyatt.” My throat feels dry. “I bought a house in Seattle to be close to you and your mom.”

  The kid’s mouth flattens into a thin line. “And now you’re here.”

  “For work, buddy. You know that my job is different and—”

  “I know,” he says, sighing. “I just don’t like it.”

  I watch his face. He doesn’t look so angry anymore, but he’s obviously still upset. “I don’t always like it either,” I tell him, hoping I’m saying the right thing. “But I’m really glad I get to see you this weekend. And I’m glad that LA isn’t such a bad flight from Seattle so you and your mom can come down a lot while I’m working.” I nudge Wyatt’s shoulder. “And you know I made sure our schedule gave me days off to come up and see you when your season starts.”

  Wyatt looks up, his eyes hopeful. “You’ll be able to come to my games?”

  “Not all of them,” I say quickly. I never want to promise the kid something I can’t do. “But as many as I can.”

  Finally, Wyatt smiles. “That sounds pretty good.”

  A rush of relief goes through me. Did I actually manage to get through that on my own, without Sam? I’ve never been good at the emotional stuff—I’m kind of a disaster, to be honest. But I’ve been trying. And it makes me feel pretty damn good about myself that I got the kid to smile.

  “Okay,” I say, straightening up. “Your mom is resting and I’m totally bored. I know you wanted to chill out alone, but—”

  “No,” Wyatt says quickly, tossing the comic aside. “I want to chill out with you.”

  I grin, feeling pretty damn good about myself indeed. “Soccer on the beach? You can try to teach me to dribble.”

  “The key word is try,” Wyatt says, looking more than a little smug. “You might be a huge rock star, Cash, but you’re really awful at soccer.”

  I make a big show of sighing and looking wounded, but I really want to laugh. The kid is not wrong.

  “The things I put up with,” I mutter, helping Wyatt off the bed. As we head down the stairs, Wyatt slips his hand into mine and I know, without a doubt, that I’m coming out way ahead.

  * * *

  “Do you think we got enough?” I ask Sam, looking at the spread of food on the kitchen counter.

  She makes a face at me. “You invited twenty people. There’s enough food here to feed fifty.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe we need more chips—”

  “Cash, you have ten bags!” She shakes her head. “We have plenty, okay? Just relax.”

  “I guess so,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck.

  Sam comes around the counter and slips her arms around me. “It’s very cute, you know,” she murmurs.

  “What is?”

  “How eager you are to be a good host.”

  I feel a little sheepish. “I just want everyone to have a good time tonight. It’s been a rough few months.”

  She sighs, resting her head against my chest. “I know it has.”

  Because she isn’t looking at me anymore, I find it a lot easier to talk about this. “I want this to be good for everyone. This time in LA. I think Lennon was right, we should be together right now…”

  “I think he’s right, too.” She rubs her fingertips in little circles across my back. “You guys should be spending time together. This party will be a good start to that.” She squeezes me a little closer. “If lots of food translates to a good party, you’re home free.”

  “You always have to tease me, don’t you,” I murmur, lowering my head to kiss her. She giggles as my lips tickle against her neck. Then she gasps—but not in the excited sort of way I’m used to.

  “Oh, my God,” she mutters, pushing me hard.

  “Sam?”

  “I’m going to puke!” She rushes past me.

  “Sam!”

  I follow her to the half bath by the entryway but she slams the door in my face. “Sam!” I can hear the unmistakable sound of her being sick and I push the door open, not caring one bit about privacy when she’s hurting.

  “Go away,” she moans, her head over the toilet. “I’m gross.”

  “Yeah, right,” I say, kneeling next to her. I take her hair in one hand, rubbing her back with the other.

  “Oh, God,” she moans, retching again. She wipes at her mouth, not looking at me. “This is so embarrassing. You should go.”

  “Shut up.” I reach for a tissue to wipe her now-sweaty forehead. “I’m not going anywhere. And I’m not embarrassed.” I’m too busy being terrified to feel anything close to embarrassment.

  “Well I am,” she mutters, leaning back from the toilet. She looks awful, pale and clammy. “I don’t want you seeing me like this.”

  “Like what?” I ask, smiling a little in spite of my fear. Her expression is grumpy, just like Wyatt always looks when we call him in from playing soccer to do homework.

  “All gross,” she says, grimacing.

  “You could never be gross.” I hand her another tissue. “Do you want something to drink?”

  She nods, closing her eyes as she leans against the tiled wall. “Do we have ginger ale?”

  “I’m sure we do.”

  She manages a weak smile. “I shouldn’t have even asked—you bought every kind of soda they had in the store.”

  “I’ll be right back.” I kiss the top of her head before walking to the kitchen, battling the very real fear in my chest. Probably just a stomach flu, I tell myself, automatically looking out the window to check that Wyatt’s still on the deck. Nothing to panic about.

  But she’s sick. And I can’t do anything about it. I hate feeling helpless like this, hate the idea of her hurting in any way. I grab a can of ginger ale from the fridge and go back to the bathroom, only to hear Sam being sick again.

  “Damn it,” I mutter, kneeling behind her.

  “I don’t know what this is,” she says weakly, resting her head on her arms. “It was so sudden. God, I feel awful.”

  “What do you need?” I ask, rubbing her back. “Do you want to lie down? You should probably lie down. Or do you think you need a doctor? God, I don’t even know where the nearest urgent care is. I should have checked before you came, before you brought Wyatt—”

  “Cash,” she says weakly. “Please shut up.”

  I snap my jaw shut. I suppose I had been babbling. I just hate this so much. I hand her the ginger ale, my stomach clenching to see how much her hands shake as she takes it from me.

  “I never get sick,” she mutters after taking a few careful sips.

  “I know,” I say. “I don’t think you’ve been sick once since I met you.” I give her a sheepish smile. “Which is probably why I’m freaking out so much. This is unchartered ter
ritory for me.”

  She pats my shoulder vaguely. “You’re very sweet.” She winces at the movement. “Ugh. I hope Wyatt doesn’t get this. Or you.”

  “I’m not worried,” I say. “I have plenty of experience with the whole puking-my-brains-out thing. Hazard of the job.”

  “Yeah, you’re such a big party god rock star these days,” she says. She winces again and turns back to the toilet, retching, but nothing comes up. “God,” she whimpers. “I don’t think I’ve been this sick since I was pregnant.”

  A strange swooping sensation seems to rush through me, a lot like the feeling of being on a roller coaster. Then my skin goes cold and I wonder if maybe I’m going to throw up, too. Sam is saying something else but I can barely hear her over the rushing sound in my ears.

  “Cash?” she asks, raising her voice. She pushes my shoulder, snapping me out of it. “Are you okay?”

  “You said…” I shake my head, swallowing over a suddenly dry throat. “Pregnant. You said pregnant.”

  She shoots me an exasperated look. “I said since I was pregnant. I didn’t say I am pregnant. God, Cash. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

  “How do you know?” I whisper. “That you’re not?”

  She crosses her arms. “I think I would know.” I must not look convinced because she pulls her phone out. “Here, I’ll show you. I keep track of my cycle in this app—”

  She freezes, staring down at the phone and I’m pretty sure my heart actually stops beating. “Sam?”

  It feels like a lifetime until she looks up at me. When she does, the sight of her takes my breath away. Her eyes are wide, terrified. “I think we need to go to the store,” she says, her voice strange, unfamiliar to me.

  “Why?”

  “Because we need to get a pregnancy test.”

  Reed

  Wow,” Paige murmurs, looking up at the house. “This place is huge.”

  I stand next to her in the driveway, shaking my head. “So unlike Cash,” I mutter. “To be ostentatious.”

  She grins over at me. “Because your house is so understated.”

  “That’s different,” I argue. “I bought my house. It’s an investment. This is a rental—and Cash already owns a house in Seattle.” I shake my head again. “I can’t even imagine what he’s paying per month for this.” The house is huge. More importantly, it’s right on the beach. I don’t need to know much about real estate to know that the price would have to be astronomical.

  “Well,” Paige says, squeezing my hand, “at least we get to reap the benefits of ocean front living when we come to visit.”

  I look down at her, smiling. Just like Paige, to focus on the positive. “You’re cute.”

  She looks up to meet my eyes, hers widening in surprise. “I am?”

  I laugh. “Of course you are. Don’t I tell you that all the time?”

  “Not lately.”

  My stomach plummets. “Paige—”

  She reaches up on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek. “You’ve just been a little distracted lately, Reed. It’s okay. I know it’s been hard.”

  “That doesn’t mean I should…that you…God, Paige. I’ve been an asshole.”

  “Hey.” Her face takes on a menacing expression, though it doesn’t quite reach her bright eyes. “That’s my boyfriend you’re talking about. He’s not an asshole.”

  I kiss her, probably a lot more intensely than is appropriate for the driveway, feet away from where the party is taking place. “I’m going to be better,” I mutter against her lips. “I promise.”

  “It will be easier with all of them here,” she says, patting my cheek. “For all of you to start working again. You always feel better when you’re playing music with your brothers.”

  I think about the fact that working means seeing my father, and how decidedly not easy that’s going to be, but I push it away. Paige deserves to have a nice day with our friends. And I’m going to do my best to keep from being such a grumpy asshole.

  “Let’s go say hi.” I squeeze her hand. “I think Karen is already here.”

  I lead her up the driveway to the front door. Through the glass a crowd of people have already gathered, many of them spilling out onto the deck beyond. Even from here I can see the ocean waves crashing in the background. I knock on the door and, a moment later, it swings open to reveal Sam.

  “Hey!” she says. “You don’t have to knock. Come on in.”

  Paige immediately wraps her in a hug. “Sam! You look gorgeous! I missed you! This house is insane!”

  Sam laughs, pulling back. “Cash is a little over the top, isn’t he?”

  “I would love to live at the beach,” Paige says. Then her mouth drops open, like she said something insensitive. “I mean, I love living at Reed’s house in the hills, of course. I don’t mean that this is better—”

  “Paige,” I say, fighting back the urge to laugh. “Breathe, babe.” She looks a little sheepish as Sam gestures for us to follow her into the house. “Also,” I whisper into her hair. “It’s our house, not mine.”

  She beams up at me and there’s a little trickle of relief in my chest. I need to be making her face look like that a whole lot more than I have been.

  We say hello to the people in the house, most of them musician friends of ours from LA and guys who worked on our road crew over the years. “I think your brothers are outside,” Sam says.

  “Can we help you with anything here?” Paige asks.

  Sam rolls her eyes. “Cash has everything under control. This is totally his show, not mine.”

  “We’re all going to get food poisoning,” I mutter, catching sight of my brother out on the deck, flipping burgers on the grill. I turn back to Paige and see something pinched in Sam’s face. But then it disappears just as quickly, replaced by a smile, and I wonder if I imagined it. “We’ll head out there, then,” I say. “Sure you don’t need anything?”

  “We’re good,” she says. “Go say hello.”

  Out on the deck, Paige immediately throws herself into Haylee’s arms, greeting her as if it’s been months, and not mere weeks since we last saw each other.

  “Hey,” I say to Lennon, who’s obviously trying not to roll his eyes at Paige’s exuberance. “How’s it going?”

  “Good,” Lennon manages before Paige throws herself at him next. “How are you guys?”

  “We’re great,” Paige says. “So happy to be here with everyone!”

  “I would be happy to get out of the house if I was stuck with Reed all the time, too,” Lennon says, laughing when Paige smacks his arm.

  I ignore my brother, turning on the deck to see who else is outside. Levi and Karen are down on the sand, talking to Oliver, one of our roadies. Wyatt is down there too, playing soccer with a kid I don’t recognize. I don’t see Daltrey or Daisy.

  “They’re on their way,” Lennon says, correctly guessing the subject of my search. “And don’t even think about it. I get to hold her first.”

  I make a face at him and my brother holds up a hand. “They stayed with you for two days when they got to town. I haven’t seen her since Nashville.”

  “Oh, Jesus,” Haylee mutters. “Not this again.”

  “They’re ridiculous,” Paige agrees. “Besides, I’m sure Cash is going to want to hold her first, since this is his party and everything.”

  My eyes travel over to the other side of the deck, where Cash is still manning the grill. He’s staring down at the burgers as he flips them, his eyes never wavering. I squint at him. It’s weird for Cash not to have noticed our arrival.

  “Hey,” I call, walking over to my brother. “How’s it going? Nice little place you got here—shit, man.” Cash finally looks up at me and the expression on my brother’s face has a wash of anxiety running through me. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing,” Cash says quickly, looking back to the grill.

  “Cash?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Cash is definitely not fine. I gla
nce back at Lennon, who immediately excuses himself from the girls to come over.

  “What’s up?”

  Cash is still staring at the grill so I nod in his direction, hoping Lennon will get the hint. “Cash?” Lennon asks. “You going to say hello, buddy?”

  “Hey,” Cash says, rubbing the back of his neck. He still doesn’t look up. Lennon shoots me a confused glance and I mouth the words, what’s wrong with him?

  “Hey, man,” Lennon tries again. “Why don’t you give the burgers a break?” There’s a platter filled with at least two-dozen already cooked burgers on the side of the grill. “I bet we have enough to be getting started with.”

  Cash exhales. “I need to be busy right now.”

  Okay, this is definitely weird. I’m starting to get a little nervous. There’s clearly something off with Cash—but Sam seemed fine when we got here.

  “Cash?” I try again and my brother looks up. If anything, his face looks even worse than it did a moment ago. He’s pale, his eyes wide, and I think I see panic there, just below the surface. “Hey, man. Let’s go for a walk.”

  Cash holds up the spatula in his hand, looking almost confused, like he doesn’t know what to do with it. “I’ll take over with that,” Lennon says, reaching for it. “You go with Reed.”

  Cash doesn’t argue—he seems completely out of it. But he hands the spatula to Lennon and follows me down the steps to the beach.

  “Cash!” Wyatt calls as we pass. “Watch this!”

  The kid bounces his soccer ball on his knee a few times, looking proud. “Nice,” Cash calls back, his voice sounding a little closer to normal. “Keep it up.”

  I lead Cash a ways down the beach, away from the noise of the party. “What’s going on, man? You look really shaken up.”

  Cash drops down into the sand with a thud. “Sam is pregnant.”

  Holy shit.

  I stare down at my brother, sure I must not have heard him correctly. “Sam…what?”

  Cash blows out a breath, running his hands through his hair before bringing his knees up to his chest. I have a sudden flash of him sitting that way as a kid, when he was in a bad mood and didn’t want to play his instrument.