before Francesca’s death had
always been serious, focused, short-tempered, and driven. But he hadn’t been an angry
drunk.
“Maybe. I don’t know.” It shamed him to admit that. “But it’s been a year.”
“There’s no limit to the amount of time it takes to grieve. Jack’s
grandpère
passed away two days after Brice’s birth, almost nine months ago. I still see the
sadness on Jack’s face from time to time. He didn’t forget the man he loved, but he’s
slowly laying him to rest. Maybe Javier just isn’t there with Francesca’s memory yet.
He must have loved her very much.”
“Not at all, actually.”
Morgan winced, then softened as she glimpsed the baby sleeping listlessly in her arms.
“Has he ever been in love? Really in love?”
“I don’t know. Until he married Francesca, I’d never seen him prefer one woman over
another. And even then . . .” Xander frowned, ashamed to realize that he actually
knew very little about his brother’s personal life. Five years’ difference in age
hadn’t always made them miles apart, but lately, it certainly hadn’t helped. “I don’t
know if he’s capable of the devotion you’re talking about.”
“Were your parents affectionate?”
Xander snorted. “Sure. Dad loved bending his assistants over his desk, and Mom loved
Nordstrom.”
Morgan’s face was full of pity, and Xander wished to hell he’d kept his mouth shut.
“So his experiences with love haven’t been great, it sounds like. I hate to sound
like Dr. Phil, but maybe Jack is right and Javier needs something to care about. Or
someone.”
As much as Xander hated it, the theory had validity. Javier needed something to fight
for. He carried on as if he had no outlet in life except business and a bottle. Neither
could make him feel truly valued. He couldn’t invest his heart in either one. But
if he had a reason to care, a reason to live, how much would that improve his outlook?
At the very least, Javier’s mood might improve with a good fuck. As far as Xander
knew, his brother hadn’t taken anyone to bed in over a year. No wonder his mood sucked.
Mentally he flipped through all the women he knew. Francesca had been tall, thin,
exotic, and dark. Xander knew more than a few of that type. Problem was, they would
look at Javier with dollar signs in their eyes, not as a man who needed a little TLC
to start healing.
“Any ideas where I could find this someone to care about him? I need her quick.”
Morgan raised a fiery brow. “If you’re going to be in a hurry, maybe he’s better off
with a dog. I didn’t say Javier needs just anyone. He needs someone special.”
Yeah. Did that exist? Xander had been sampling females for years. Other than his buddies’
wives, all great women he admired for more than their beauty, he’d never met one he’d
want to keep forever, much less one who could be his brother’s savior.
Javier opened the door to his interior office, holding the bottle of vodka by its
neck. He glanced at Morgan with concern, ignoring Xander altogether. “The baby still
feverish?”
She nodded, regret molding her expression. “Yes. I’ll see if I can find someone else
to help you out. I’ll call and let you know.”
Though Javier desperately needed things typed, organized, and read, and Morgan had
volunteered while her cable TV show was on a brief hiatus, he showed no displeasure
for the disruption of her duties or the change in his own workload.
“Take care of that pretty baby.” Javier smiled benignly.
The bottle wasn’t quite half gone. Maybe his brother was still capable of a reasonable
conversation. Maybe they could discuss what was lacking in Javier’s life and he could
help fix it. Fuck, he was allergic to emotion. His trying to fix his brother was a
joke, but someone had to.
“Thank you.” Morgan gathered the rest of her things and headed out to her car, kissing
the baby’s little
always been serious, focused, short-tempered, and driven. But he hadn’t been an angry
drunk.
“Maybe. I don’t know.” It shamed him to admit that. “But it’s been a year.”
“There’s no limit to the amount of time it takes to grieve. Jack’s
grandpère
passed away two days after Brice’s birth, almost nine months ago. I still see the
sadness on Jack’s face from time to time. He didn’t forget the man he loved, but he’s
slowly laying him to rest. Maybe Javier just isn’t there with Francesca’s memory yet.
He must have loved her very much.”
“Not at all, actually.”
Morgan winced, then softened as she glimpsed the baby sleeping listlessly in her arms.
“Has he ever been in love? Really in love?”
“I don’t know. Until he married Francesca, I’d never seen him prefer one woman over
another. And even then . . .” Xander frowned, ashamed to realize that he actually
knew very little about his brother’s personal life. Five years’ difference in age
hadn’t always made them miles apart, but lately, it certainly hadn’t helped. “I don’t
know if he’s capable of the devotion you’re talking about.”
“Were your parents affectionate?”
Xander snorted. “Sure. Dad loved bending his assistants over his desk, and Mom loved
Nordstrom.”
Morgan’s face was full of pity, and Xander wished to hell he’d kept his mouth shut.
“So his experiences with love haven’t been great, it sounds like. I hate to sound
like Dr. Phil, but maybe Jack is right and Javier needs something to care about. Or
someone.”
As much as Xander hated it, the theory had validity. Javier needed something to fight
for. He carried on as if he had no outlet in life except business and a bottle. Neither
could make him feel truly valued. He couldn’t invest his heart in either one. But
if he had a reason to care, a reason to live, how much would that improve his outlook?
At the very least, Javier’s mood might improve with a good fuck. As far as Xander
knew, his brother hadn’t taken anyone to bed in over a year. No wonder his mood sucked.
Mentally he flipped through all the women he knew. Francesca had been tall, thin,
exotic, and dark. Xander knew more than a few of that type. Problem was, they would
look at Javier with dollar signs in their eyes, not as a man who needed a little TLC
to start healing.
“Any ideas where I could find this someone to care about him? I need her quick.”
Morgan raised a fiery brow. “If you’re going to be in a hurry, maybe he’s better off
with a dog. I didn’t say Javier needs just anyone. He needs someone special.”
Yeah. Did that exist? Xander had been sampling females for years. Other than his buddies’
wives, all great women he admired for more than their beauty, he’d never met one he’d
want to keep forever, much less one who could be his brother’s savior.
Javier opened the door to his interior office, holding the bottle of vodka by its
neck. He glanced at Morgan with concern, ignoring Xander altogether. “The baby still
feverish?”
She nodded, regret molding her expression. “Yes. I’ll see if I can find someone else
to help you out. I’ll call and let you know.”
Though Javier desperately needed things typed, organized, and read, and Morgan had
volunteered while her cable TV show was on a brief hiatus, he showed no displeasure
for the disruption of her duties or the change in his own workload.
“Take care of that pretty baby.” Javier smiled benignly.
The bottle wasn’t quite half gone. Maybe his brother was still capable of a reasonable
conversation. Maybe they could discuss what was lacking in Javier’s life and he could
help fix it. Fuck, he was allergic to emotion. His trying to fix his brother was a
joke, but someone had to.
“Thank you.” Morgan gathered the rest of her things and headed out to her car, kissing
the baby’s little
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