The Ransome Brothers Page 5

  “I thought we could recreate it,” she says, holding up a bottle of sparkling cider. “No champagne this time, though. At least not for me. Rose will need to eat soon. But I have beer for you.”

  “I’ll have what you’re having.”

  I watch as she pours out a glass of sparkling cider and realize, with a jolt, that her hands are shaking. A sudden chill settles on me. I knew she was up to something today, with the obviously meticulously planned outing. I’d been starting to assume I’d missed some kind of anniversary, like our first kiss back in second grade or something. Daisy was always good at remembering stuff like that, all the little details of our long life together. But now I’m not so sure. She seems really nervous, almost jumpy—what if something is wrong?

  I reach out and place a hand on her arm and I have to struggle to keep my voice even. “Daisy, what’s going on?”

  She looks up at me, smiling shyly. “I can never fool you, can I?”

  “No. I know you too well.” I swallow. We’ve been through a lot together—whatever this is, we can deal with it. “Tell me.”

  “Do you remember my babysitter Daniela?”

  I stare at her. That was the last thing in the world I expected her to say. I’d been bracing myself for something bad, not something completely random. “I…I guess so?” I have a rough recollection of a teenager who talked on the phone all the time, but that could have been anyone. Daisy had a lot of babysitters over the years, her father hardly ever home in those days. And they all talked on the phone a lot.

  She’s watching me, smiling. “I think we were nine then?” she offers.

  “Sure.” I don’t know where she’s going with this, don’t know how her old babysitter could possibly have anything to do with our lives now.

  “It was summer,” Daisy continues. “And her best friend, Kelly, used to come over when she was watching me so they could swim in our pool.” Her gaze seems to grow more intense on my face. “And that summer, Kelly’s older sister got engaged. Do you remember that?”

  I know I must look like an idiot, my mouth half open, gaping at her. “Do I remember your babysitter’s best friend’s older sister getting engaged when we were nine?” I ask, not bothering to hide my bewilderment. “No, Daisy. I don’t.”

  She laughs softly. “I do. Kelly and Daniela went on and on about it. They had a bunch of bridal magazines they spread out all over the deck. They were obsessed. And they talked constantly about the proposal, how romantic it had been.”

  Her words are conjuring up vague images of that summer but I still don’t see why on earth she wants to talk about it now.

  Daisy isn’t finished. “The guy had taken her to an amusement park because she really liked roller coasters. And then out to a fancy French restaurant where he asked her in front of everyone. They thought it was so romantic.” She shakes her head, grinning. “For a week straight they talked about the proposals they wanted. All the romantic things they hoped their Prince Charming would do for them. Restaurants and outings, public versus private. Like I said, obsessed.” Her voice goes soft. “I guess it was only natural that we started talking about it too.”

  My stomach drops, just a fraction.

  “I don’t really remember what I said.” She scrunches up her nose a little, as if trying to think of her long ago words. Then she smiles again, not quite meeting my eyes, a little shy. “But I remember exactly what you said.”

  My mouth is suddenly dry. “Daisy—”

  “We didn’t know, you see, that the guy is usually the one to do the proposing. We were dumb kids, and we’d just heard these silly teenage girls going on and on about their perfect days, what would make them happiest. So we talked about our own perfect days, what would make us happy.” She takes a deep breath, as if steeling herself. “You said if someone asked you to marry them, you’d want them to take you to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and then to Sea World.” She giggles. “From Cleveland to Orlando in one day? Really, Daltrey? Geography wasn’t your strong suit, I guess.” She reaches over to brush a lock of hair from my forehead. “And you said you wouldn’t want a fancy dinner, like the girls had said. You just wanted pizza. You always wanted pizza.”

  I just shake my head at her, completely at a loss. Did I really say that? How on earth does she remember?

  “Cash overheard us, and he teased you so bad.” Her face loses the smile she’d been wearing at the remembrance. “He told you that boys didn’t get proposed to, and he called you an idiot.” Daisy makes a face. “I remember thinking he was the idiot. Why should boys get all the fun? Why couldn’t a girl propose if she wanted to?”

  It’s all clicking into place, everything she’s done for me today. The Musicians Museum, the zoo, my favorite meal.

  Daisy is still talking. “We’re pretty far from Cleveland and Orlando,” she says, stretching her hands wide. “So I made due with what we had.”

  “Daisy.”

  She pats the blanket we’re sitting on. “I know you didn’t say anything about a picnic back then,” she goes on. “But I was trying to think of something that adult Daltrey would add to that list of perfect day activities.” She rises up on her knees, inching closer to me, taking my face between her hands. I can only stare at her, speechless. Completely overwhelmed. “You love this house so much,” she says. “And the little family we’ve built here. I’ll never forget that day we found this place, how happy you were.” She shrugs a little. “I thought about going out somewhere nice, somewhere to celebrate, getting a babysitter. But that didn’t seem right. In the end, I figured a day out with both your girls and a simple meal at our house would probably suffice for Daltrey Ransome’s perfect day.”

  “It does,” I whisper, my voice hoarse. She’s actually doing this, isn’t she? I bring my own hands up to cradle hers, still clinging to my face. “It more than does. But I thought…I thought you wanted to wait awhile?”

  Of course we talked about it, several times after we found out she was pregnant. But Daisy was adamant—we would get married because we wanted to, not because it was society’s idea of the right thing to do with a baby coming. Honestly, I thought it was dumb to wait, for reasons that had nothing to do with right or wrong or society. I would have happily married her the very day the test came back positive. Hell, I would have married her the day she came back into my life. But she wanted to wait, so I’d relented—when had I ever been able to deny her anything?

  “I wanted to wait until things calmed down,” she says, rubbing her thumbs across my cheeks. “I didn’t want it to be hurried or planned around the tour or what dress I could fit my massive pregnant belly into.” She laughs a little. “I wanted to wait until we could just concentrate on us for a minute.”

  “And we can do that now?”

  She smiles. “I don’t know, honestly. Sometimes life seems crazier right now than it ever did.” She releases me, reaching into her pocket. Then she brings her fist to her chest, clutching something. “What I do know is that I’m tired of waiting. I love you. You’re my family. I want to make it official.” She opens her fist, revealing a smooth black ring with a thick band of silver running through it.

  “I thought it was kind of cool—that silver part is from a meteorite,” she says, but I barely register her words. I stare at the ring, my heart beating so hard I’m sure she can hear it. Then I look up at her, at those familiar green eyes that no longer look nervous. She seems sure and excited, bordering on giddy. And so filled with love. For me. I shake my head, completely at a loss. What could I have ever done in my stupid life to deserve her?

  “Daltrey, will you marry me?”

  I want to yell, to tell her yes, of course, to swing her around in my arms. To make a complete and utter fool of myself, to laugh like an absolute, overjoyed idiot. But I find I can’t do any of those things. I can only stare at her, not entirely sure she’s real.

  I had always known I would marry her someday—even as a kid I had known it. Even during that terrible year when she’
d left me, I still held onto that belief, that hope. But even so, actually hearing those words, seeing Daisy Harris kneeling before me, ring in her hand—I’m so overwhelmed I can’t speak.

  “Daltrey?” she asks, a little note of uncertainty in her voice. And that’s all it takes for me to get it together. I won’t have her doubting me, doubting my answer, not even for a second.

  I grab her shoulders, pulling her into my arms, kissing her as hard as I can, wanting to tell her with my lips what I can’t manage to put into words right then. That I love her, that I can’t believe how lucky I am. That this day she planned for me, just to make me happy, might have been the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me.

  “That’s not an answer,” she murmurs against my lips.

  “Like hell it isn’t,” I half growl, pulling her back for another kiss as she laughs.

  “Daltrey.”

  I finally let go, but only so I can bring my hands to her face. “Of course I will, Daisy. I would have married you nine months ago. Or two years ago. I’ll marry you right now, tonight—let’s give Rose her first taste of Vegas.”

  She laughs again, the sound cutting off suddenly as she looks into my eyes. And I know then that she can see it, see all those things I can’t find words for. And she feels the same way.

  I need to kiss her, need to feel as connected to her in my body as I do in my soul. Need to feel and touch and taste her, to be reminded just how perfect it feels when we’re together like this. From the very first time to this time, it always gets better with Daisy. It’s more than sex, more than lust. She makes me feel whole. Makes me feel right. It really doesn’t get simpler than that.

  It’s warm in front of the fire, the blanket soft beneath us, Daisy’s lips a perfect fit against mine, her body arching up to meet me as I move in her. And when I know she’s about to fall apart beneath me, I cup her face in my hands, brushing away a tear, my ring glinting in the light against her skin. My ring. Proof that Daisy has claimed me, that this amazing girl wants me as much as I want her. For life.

  I follow quickly behind her, my chest tight with the realization that this is real, this is it. I’m going to marry the girl I’ve always loved. She’s going to be my wife. How fucking amazing is that?

  I hold her against my chest for a long time after, waiting for my heart rate to return to normal, knowing it’s probably futile—a naked Daisy is in my arms. My heart has no chance.

  “I can’t wait to tell everyone,” she murmurs, kissing my shoulder. “Isn’t it nice to have so many people in our lives who will be happy for us?”

  My first thought is of Dad, and I push it away, not wanting to taint this moment with any regret. “Your brothers will be happy,” she goes on. “Who would have thought the baby of the family would be the first to get married?”

  I roll my eyes. “Daisy, they all knew I’d be first.”

  She looks up at me, forehead furrowed. “They did?”

  I laugh, wondering how she still doesn’t get it, even after all this time. “They knew I loved you before I did,” I say, brushing her hair back. “They’ve teased me about it our whole lives.”

  “So mean, those boys,” she sighs, lowering her face back to my chest. “We can tell them you asked, if you want. So they won’t be asses about it. I mean, you did ask first, technically. Back when we found out I was pregnant. So it would be—”

  I place a thumb over her mouth. “There’s no way we’re not telling them about this,” I say firmly. “This is the coolest thing ever. Seriously, Daisy. You know that, right? How amazing it feels that you did all of this for me?”

  She snuggles into me a little, her hips wiggling like she’s happy to hear my words, and I grin. So adorable.

  “I plan on bragging about this for a long, long time,” I tell her. “To anyone who will listen. My fiancée kicks serious ass.”

  “My fiancé,” she murmurs against my skin. “I really like how that sounds.”

  I’ll like the sound of husband a whole lot better. Not just any husband, either. Daisy’s husband. God, what a gift.

  A sudden cry comes from the baby monitor, and Daisy sighs. “Guess our break is over.”

  “I owe that kid one,” I say, kissing the top of Daisy’s head. “It would have been awful if she chose to wake up just a few minutes earlier.”

  “Kind of her to let Mommy and Daddy get some,” she agrees, pulling herself into a kneel while I laugh. She finds my shirt, pulling it over her head as she stands. For a moment, I’m speechless again, watching her. So beautiful, her curly hair a mess, tumbling around her shoulders, bare legs long and smooth. Wearing nothing but my t-shirt. A wave of satisfied possessiveness washes over me and she shakes her head.

  “I know that look in your eye, Daltrey Ransome.”

  “Maybe she’ll go back to sleep,” I say hopefully, reaching for her as I eye the baby monitor. Rose chooses that moment to let out a loud cry, sounding angry now. Impatient. Very much like a Ransome. We both laugh.

  “Come on,” Daisy says, pulling me to my feet. “Let’s go tell our baby that her parents are getting married.”

  Reed

  It’s only two in the afternoon, and I’m already well on my way to being drunk.

  I’m having a shitty day—a shitty week. Hell, it’s been a shitty six months. I figure I deserve a little liquid comfort. So I sit there on the patio at my house in LA, looking out over the valley spread far below, and drink my whiskey.

  “Reed?”

  I don’t turn at the sound of Paige’s voice when she joins me on the patio. She’s way too good at reading my expressions. And I don’t want her reading this one. I’ve been feeling that way a lot lately.

  “Karen just called,” Paige says, slipping her arms around me from behind. “She wants to know if I want to go out. Maybe do a little shopping.”

  I don’t respond, instead closing my eyes as the feel of her, so close, overwhelms me. Her familiar scent, the warmth of her arms. When she rests her chin on my shoulder, my heart gives a painful lurch.

  She deserves so much better.

  She sighs, a reaction, I’m sure, to my silence, and I feel a familiar flutter of guilt. “She said Levi was coming with her,” Paige goes on. “To see you.”

  I don’t want to see Levi. I don’t want to see anyone. I don’t even want to see Paige.

  She’s quiet for a long moment and I wonder how much of my face she can see from this angle. I lift my glass to my lips, needing to feel the sting of the whiskey on my throat. Maybe if I can focus on the fire of the alcohol, I’ll be able to manage the words she wants to hear. Sounds good, babe. Have fun with Karen. Everything is fine.

  Everything is not fine.

  Paige releases me, and I can see her in my mind’s eye, straightening behind me. Those silky black curls I love so much falling around her shoulders, her face pinched with worry. I hate that worry. So why can’t I figure out how to make it go away?

  “I wish you would talk to me.”

  I stiffen in the lounge chair.

  “You know you can, right? That I’ll listen. We could—”

  “I’m fine, Paige.”

  She snorts, the sound bitter and not at all like her.

  “I am.” Finally I turn to face her, trying to ignore the way she winces at the sight of me face. Do I look that bad? I didn’t bother to shave this morning, and I slept like crap last night, leaving me with red eyes and dark circles. And Paige notices. She notices everything.

  “Listen,” I say, reaching for her hand. “Lennon is doing fine. Rose is here. Daisy is healthy. What the hell do I have to be upset about?”

  She takes her hand back, crossing her arms, eyes narrowed. “Have you talked to your dad?”

  I swear under my breath, reaching again for my glass as I turn back to the view of the valley. “No.”

  “I—”

  “I’m not talking about this.”

  She sighs and her voice sounds sad when she speaks again. “I know you’re not.”


  She doesn’t say anything else and I don’t turn again. Still, I know, somehow, that she left, that she went back into the house. I can always sense when Paige is nearby, always feel her absence like a void in my chest. I take another drink, wishing to fill that particular void. And maybe some of the rest of them.

  I’m on my third glass of whiskey when I hear footsteps behind me on the patio, far too heavy to be Paige’s.

  “How’s it going, Levi?”

  The voice that answers isn’t my old friend’s. “Paige said you’re grumpy.”

  I look up, surprised, to see my younger brother standing next to me. “Len?”

  Lennon’s lips tug up in a smile. “Why do you sound so shocked?”

  “I thought you’ve been holed up with your woman.”

  Lennon pulls another chair over to join me. “She has rehearsal.” Lennon’s eyes go to the bottle between us and I feel another flutter of guilt, stronger this time. Should I offer my brother a drink? Or would that make me a dick? I don’t know if I should be encouraging him to drink. And God, I’m so tired of second-guessing everything, not knowing how to react to any of this. How to fix it.

  “How’s it going with her?” I ask instead, figuring Haylee is a pretty safe topic for my brother. Sure enough, Lennon smiles.

  “It’s going great.”

  “I’m glad.”

  I am glad. If there’s anyone in the world who deserves to be happy, it’s my brother. So why am I also so worried? Why does the thought of Lennon having a girlfriend put that pit of fear into my stomach?

  Because she could hurt him, I think. She could hurt him and it could start all over again.

  “So.” Lennon is watching me. Much like Paige, he’s way too fucking observant. If only it was Cash here instead. That bastard is oblivious to pretty much everything. Lennon, on the other hand, has always been the sensitive one, the one who watches too closely. The one who understands things. “How are you, Reed?”

  “Fine.”

  Lennon snorts. “Dude, you know I pretty much invented that word as a response to concerned brothers, right? Someone else might buy your bull, but it won’t be me.”