Anything but Love

THIRTY-THREE

Valentine’s Day.

To think it used to be one of Luke’s favorite days of the year. This time last year, he had three girlfriends. Pretty much his status quo. He’d lavished attention on all three. Flowers, candy, and a card. Champagne. He’d juggled three separate dates beautifully, devoted equal attention to all three ladies.

Luke Monroe had a lotta love to give.

Today, he had nothing. Just a big freaking hole in his chest where his heart used to be.

He’d screwed up. A split second of doubt had ruined a lifetime of happiness.

Rae had shut him out.

That damned stipulation.

“If even one of us is unhappy in this exclusive relationship … It only takes one to end it.”

She hadn’t ended it. Not officially. But she wouldn’t see him. Wouldn’t even speak to him. It sure as hell felt like the end because Luke couldn’t see his way past the damage he’d inflicted. Rae had told him from the start that she rarely shared her feelings, rarely trusted, because she was always disappointed in the end.

She’d trusted Luke. Granted, for reasons he didn’t fully understand, she’d withheld details regarding a sexual confrontation with her stepfather. But she had shared her carefully guarded feelings pertaining to her inability to trust. Her lack of genuine, meaningful relationships. Her lonely childhood. The hurt she’d experienced as an unwanted child and her hopeful efforts to somehow bond with her mother.

In addition to bearing her soul to Luke, she’d confided portions of her hardships with his family and with the Cupcake Lovers. She’d been ready to share a carefully worded version on television, all in an effort to quell a negative force and to do a lot of good.

Luke had shattered that trust with a split second of doubt. Those damned photos had done him in. Rae’s face, that sweet, beautiful face … and those other men. Jealously had ripped through him like a wildfire, incinerating logical thought. He’d reverted to that moment when he’d felt used, when he’d confronted her in Bel Air, when she’d blown him off and thrown back shots of tequila in that bar. He’d allowed her mother’s insults to attack his confidence.

The bartender and the heiress.

“Dammit.”

Luke stumbled from his fridge to his recliner, beer bottle in hand. Several empty bottles cluttered the counter and the cocktail table. He’d started drinking late last night with Adam and Kane. He’d told them he was going to crash when they left around one in the morning. He’d lied.

Just as he dropped into his recliner, someone pounded on his door.

Luke ignored it. It wasn’t Rae. Rae wouldn’t pound. Or maybe she would. Maybe she was ready to tear him a new one. He’d welcome her fury to silence any day.

Bleary-eyed, Luke dragged his drunk ass to the door.

Not Rae.

Fuck.

He could ignore them, but they’d only break down his door.

He twisted the knob, falling back as his dad, Dev, Jayce, and Sam shoved in.

His dad glared at the bottle in Luke’s hand then glared at Luke. “It’s eight in the morning, son. Little early to hit the bottle.”

“He’s still on a tear from last night,” Dev said. He nabbed the bottle from Luke. “Adam called me this morning, worried about your state of mind.”

“Why haven’t you answered our calls?” Sam asked.

“Have you seen Rae?” Luke asked.

“She’s staying with Casey,” Sam said. “Harper spent time with her last night, devising a plan. Damage control. It’s what Harper does, Luke, and she’s good at it.”

“Chloe spoke with Rae this morning,” Dev said. “She’s fine. Holding up anyway. I have a meeting with her later this morning. She’s dumping her lawyer in L.A. and hiring me as her financial advisor.”

Luke swayed a little on his feet, squeezed the bridge of nose struggling for a clear thought. “She’s staying in Sugar Creek?”

Sam glared. “You thought she’d give up on her dream that easily? Don’t you know Rae at all?”

Jerome growled in frustration. “I’ll put on a pot of coffee. Jayce, fill my son in on what you learned. And Luke, for God’s sake, focus.”

Luke felt himself being hauled into the living room by Dev and Sam. They dumped him on the couch then started clearing away bottles.

“The photos were definitely manipulated,” Jayce said as he sat across from Luke. “Rae’s head superimposed on another woman’s body.”

“Why?”

“I did some digging. Pretty confident this is part of a scheme Olivia and Geoffrey cooked up in order to gain control of Rae’s fortune.”

“Making her seem incompetent,” Dev said. “Mentally unstable.”

“Stein’s loaded,” Luke said. “Why would he need Rae’s money?”

“With men like that,” Sam said, “it’s also about control.”

“And maybe revenge,” Dev added. “Rae reiterated to Chloe that Stein made the sexual advance. Rae spurned his attentions and he threatened to crush her if she outed him.”

Luke’s blood burned just thinking about it, mangling any semblance of clear thought. “She should have told me.”

“So you could knock the bastard’s block off?” Dev asked. “That’s exactly why she didn’t tell you. She was trying to protect you from Stein’s wrath.”

“As for Olivia,” Jayce said, “it’s about attention. That act she put on yesterday? You can bet she had an orgasm with all those cameras firing.”

“The woman’s whacked,” Dev said. “And Rae’s dealing with the fallout while you’re getting trashed.”

“I tried calling. I tried…” Chest aching, thoughts blurred, Luke dropped his head in his hands. “She won’t talk to me. Doesn’t want to see me.”

“Oh, hell,” Jerome said as he came back into the room.

“Coffee’s not going to do it, Dad,” Dev said.

“I got this,” Sam said.

Next thing Luke knew, he was swaying in the downstairs shower stall. “Don’t—”

Sam turned the faucet on full blast and pinned Luke against the tiles as the freaking ice cold water pounded Luke into lucidness. “Got your attention?” Sam asked.

“I love her, Sam.”

“Then fight for her, dammit.”

“How?”

“Patience.”