Proceeds from the event benefited the This Is Home Foundation, an organization that ran the youth home for foster children in town. The charity held a special place in Cole’s heart. Not only because if he hadn’t been blessed with Dad and Moe in his life, he could’ve easily ended up in the foster care system. But three of his siblings had been adopted from that home. One of his goals as mayor was to ensure the rally and ride continued to thrive and grow. It’d been one of his promises when he’d run for the office. Because more revenue meant more funding for the youth home.
“I went over there yesterday, and everything looked great. Better than great. Did you still need me to check it out?”
Wolf shook his head. “No. Jasper Landon happened to drop by. And when he complained about it being too large and vulgar, and how it wasn’t how they’d always done it, I figured it was perfect.” Cole smothered a groan but must not have been too successful in schooling his expression because his brother grinned. “Yeah. Good luck. I’m sure he’s going to drop by your office tomorrow to complain.”
Shit. Jasper Landon, former mayor of Rose Bend, hadn’t taken well to losing to a younger, less experienced and—hell, might as well admit it—Puerto Rican candidate. And he hadn’t been quiet about his criticism of Cole since he’d taken office seven months earlier.
Bottom line, the man was a sore loser—and an asshole.
And another reason Cole had decided to run for mayor. He had become a lawyer to do his part in ensuring everyone received fair representation under the law. Everyone. Regardless of race, culture, sexuality or religion. And the people of Rose Bend needed someone who would do the same for them as mayor. They needed a person who would go to bat for all of its residents. Not just those from a certain tax bracket or with low melanin.
“Anyway,” Wolf continued, “when you didn’t answer your phone, I went by the firm and city hall. Since you weren’t at either of them, I came by here.”
“I’m fine, Wolf,” Cole murmured, hearing the “to make sure you were okay” even though it’d been left unspoken.
“No, you’re not, Cole. You can run that bullshit by some people, but I’m not ‘some people.’ You haven’t been fine in two years.”
One thing he’d always admired and loved about his brother was his ability to cut through lies and get right to the heart of a matter. Today was not one of the days when he loved that ability.
“Guess who’s back in town?” Cole asked, switching the subject he had no intention of touching. Crossing the few feet to the door that led to the kitchen, he pushed it open and entered, leaving Wolf to follow.
“Okay, I’ll play along for a few minutes,” Wolf said as Cole pulled open the refrigerator and grabbed another bottle of water. His brother shook his head, when he stretched one out to him. “Who’s back?”
“Sydney Collins.” Cole twisted the cap off and drank deeply.
Wolf frowned. “Leo’s friend? Luke and Patricia’s youngest?”
“The very same.”
“Well damn. It’s been a long time since she’s set foot in Rose Bend. Is she still sexy as hell?” Wolf asked, propping his hip against the counter and crossing his arms over his massive chest.
“She was a teenager when she left here,” Cole snapped, his fingers tightening around the water bottle. “Why the hell were you noticing if she was sexy or not?”
“Because I have eyes. And a dick,” Wolf replied. “And she was eighteen. Legal.” Wolf cocked his head to the side, peering at Cole in that way he had when studying a piece of wood. Measuring it. Seeing beyond the block to what lay beneath it. With cedar, that scrutiny was inspiring, mesmerizing. Focused on Cole, it was unnerving, intrusive and a pain in the ass. “Why do you care what I call her or how I looked at her? Because it definitely seems to—” his gaze dropped to the bottle Cole clenched “—bother you.”
Fuck. It did.
But damn if he could explain why. Maybe because she had been so vulnerable beneath that tough-girl exterior? Maybe because she’d been his sister’s friend? Or because he understood how it felt to question if you belonged?
His family was wonderful; his parents had never differentiated between him and their biological children. He’d never doubted their love for and dedication to him. But still... He was a Puerto Rican boy, now man, adopted by white parents in a diverse, unusually tolerant but still predominantly white town in the very Caucasian Berkshires. Every town had its racist assholes and Rose Bend wasn’t any different. He’d been called names that had no place in supposedly progressive and enlightened twenty-first-century America. So yes, he’d doubted if he belonged before. But he’d had a support system in his family, and then in Tonia’s, that had eased those uncertainties. From what he’d witnessed with Sydney’s parents, she hadn’t experienced that comfort.
Maybe it was that affinity that had forged a sort of connection with her.
At least, with Wolf’s probing stare pinned to Cole’s face, he was going with that.
“She’s pregnant,” Cole stated. And watched as surprise, then a terrible, pitying understanding flared in his brother’s eyes.
Cole hated that understanding. Detested the pity more.
“She’s what? In her mid to late twenties now? Old enough to know about and have sex. And isn’t she married? That’s usually a thing married folks do. And you’ve been around pregnant women since Tonia died. So, I repeat,” Wolf murmured, his too-gentle voice belying the almost callousness of his words, “why do you care?”
I don’t fucking know!
The shout ricocheted against Cole’s skull, gaining speed and volume with each bounce. He fisted the fingers of his free hand and barely contained the urge to hurl the water bottle across the small kitchen.
Because he lied to himself.
He knew
