Lucas shoved Ryan aside and stood between them. “This isn’t helping.”
“Why don’t you both go to hell,” Bailey said before storming out of the room.
“Yeah, great. Now look what you did,” Lucas said, waving a hand at her back. “This is hard enough on her. Can you try to get along?”
Ryan held his hands up. “You’re right.” He made eye contact with Dex, who was looking morose, too.
“I’m not trying to hurt her,” Dex said. “I’m trying to help her move on. Looking for some lowlife pieces of shit who abandoned her isn’t going to help her get over losing her mother.”
“Then you don’t know Bailey very well.” Ryan glared at him. “She doesn’t stop. She barrels through headfirst until she gets what she wants.”
“If we work together, we can keep her from going through with this,” Dex said.
“I’ll do whatever she needs, and she needs answers.”
“Fine,” Lucas interrupted. “We’ll agree to disagree.”
“Fine,” Dex and Ryan said at the same time.
“You go right ahead and push her to look for these people and see where it gets you—and her. In the meantime, I’ll do what I have to do to protect her from getting hurt.”
Ryan scoffed. “Too late. You should’ve been here days ago. You’re the one hurting her.”
Dex held his hands out. “I’m trying here. Unlike you, I don’t live in a vacation. I have a real job.”
“Sheesh,” Ryan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Dex, the upstanding citizen with a real job. Whatever.”
“All right, that’s enough,” Lucas shouted. “We’re here to help Bailey with this house. Pick a room, any room, and stay away from each other.”
“I don’t even know why we’re here.” Dex held his hands out, palms up. “There’s nothing wrong with this house.”
“Just like I said,” Ryan scoffed. “You don’t know Bailey at all.”
Dex shot Ryan a dirty look. “I’ll work in this room.”
Ryan shook his head. “No. Bailey doesn’t want this room touched.”
“Fine, I’ll work in the living room,” Dex said, stepping around Ryan and Lucas, not letting his eyes leave Ryan’s.
Ryan turned his back on Lucas. “I got Helen’s office.”
“Great. I guess I’ll take the kitchen,” Lucas huffed as Ryan turned toward the music room in the front of the house.
Helen’s office, as she called it, was where she practiced, played, and wrote her music. It faced Lake Tahoe in all its glory. Ryan would kill to have this room to write his music. The view, the easy light streaming in through the plantation blinds. He looked out the window and saw Bailey sitting on a park bench across the street with her knees to her chest, staring out at the lake. Lucas was right; he and Dex were both jerks, but Ryan couldn’t stand that punk. He didn’t even know what he had in Bailey. If he did, he wouldn’t be taking her for granted.
Ryan remembered, with a pain in his chest, what she said that morning about being alone in the world. He honestly had no idea what it felt like to lose both parents, and not just physically, figuratively, too. But she was wrong. She hadn’t lost everything. She hadn’t lost who she was. As much as he was afraid for her and afraid of her desire to search out the people who abandoned her, he also thought it would do her some good. Maybe remind her of what she’d had in the Mortons. Remind her that she’d had a great life with them, and nothing could take that away from her. He turned to go to her, but before he could, his father stepped into the picture, carrying two glasses of iced tea.
Ryan smiled and watched them hug. His father still lived in the house next door, where Ryan grew up. He must have seen her through the window, too.
Knowing she was in good hands, Ryan turned and looked at the room where he had learned to embrace music. He’d always had trouble communicating his feelings, and when he lost his mom, he’d had trouble coping. Helen had recognized that. She taught him to use music as a tool to get through life, and it had, in turn, saved his life. Without her help and without music, he would have self-destructed years ago. Creating music gave him the freedom to express himself and release his pent-up energy and emotions.
He synced his iPhone with the Bluetooth speaker on Helen’s desk and put on her favorite composer. Chopin was who she listened to when she needed to relax. He turned it on and let it play while he cleaned her favorite space.
It also helped him relax, and as he thought about Dex, he had to laugh. That jerk had no idea what Bailey needed. What made him think he could help her when he couldn’t even take a day off to be here for her mother’s funeral?
* * *
Bailey startled when she heard Vince say her name. She hadn’t heard him come up behind her. She smiled when she saw the glass of iced tea he held out to her.
“You’re a lifesaver,” she said, taking the tea and making room for him on her bench.
“How’re you doing, sweetheart?” He rubbed at the tension in her back.
“I’d be better if my boyfriend and best friend would stop brawling with each other.”
Vince grimaced. “Ryan’s always had a short fuse, which just gets shorter when it comes to you.”
“Why? What do they think will be achieved by fighting?”
“You’re important to Ryan. You’re part of his family. You can’t expect him to turn that off because you have a boyfriend.”
“No, I just want him to act like a mature adult.”
Vince snorted, nearly choking on his tea. “Good luck with that. I’ve never had any. Ryan’s an emotional person, like his mother. He feels deeply and fights hard for what he wants.”
“I know, but I’m not something he needs to fight for.”
“Maybe you are.” Vince picked up a rock and tossed it into the lake. “If you get serious about
