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Grant’s expression of disbelief morphed into a smirk before he choked on a laugh. “You’re joking. Good one.” He clapped Blake on the back.
“I’m not.” Blake stared back, unwavering.
“Are you insane?” Grant said, his voice rising an octave. “Or have you just completely and irrevocably lost your mind?”
“Isn’t that kind of the same thing?” Blake pointed out.
Avoiding Grant’s unwavering death stare, Blake ruffled a hand through his dark hair, then turned to the coffee bar and picked up the carafe of cream, adding a shot of it to his dark roast. Maybe if he ignored him, Grant would let it drop without giving him a hard time.
He snapped the lid back on his cup and took a sip of his coffee. The whirring of the espresso machine droned in the background. The sound of conversation buzzed as people came and went, enjoying their fancy coffees and eating pastries. The ching of the cash register periodically punctuated the noise like an exclamation point.
“Is this about Jen?” Grant asked, his eyes darkening to the same deep brown as Blake’s.
Here we go. Blake felt his muscles tense in response. His brother never failed to hide his dislike for Blake’s girlfriend.
When Blake didn’t answer, Grant shook his head, stepping out of the way when another customer reached for the almond milk. “What am I saying? Of course this is about her. Everything you’ve done since you met her has been about her.”
“You’ve just described a relationship.”
“You know what I mean, dude.”
“It’s not about her. It’s about me.” Okay, it was entirely about her, but he wasn’t about to admit that. “It was my idea. I want to prove to her that I can be a family man, the kind of guy that’s serious about settling down and getting married.”
“And quitting your job is going to prove that, how?”
“I’m not quitting. I’m stepping back for a month. Huge difference.”
“Right. Stepping back from your company, the one you built with your bare hands. Sounds smart.” Grant’s eyes flickered with contempt. “Nice timing, by the way. You’re going to leave us when we’re the busiest we’ve been in years since opening up B’s Bikes. If I recall, you were the one that begged me to come onboard straight outta high school. You. And now, five years later once business is booming, you’re going to up’n leave to chase some nice piece of—”
“Watch it,” Blake warned, his tone dark.
“You know what I mean.”
“Do I?” Blake crossed his legs out in front of him and leaned against the wall, trying to appear more casual than he felt, considering he was on edge. Ever since he started dating Jen, Grant had a problem with her. She came from money, and Blake wasn’t an idiot. He knew Grant resented the Garwoods with their giant penthouse suite in Manhattan and summer home in the Hamptons. They were sophisticated—old money. Jen spent her days playing tennis at the club and lunching with the girls. Galas, dinner parties, and exclusive events around the city were her weekend repertoire.
The Garwoods were everything the Haleys weren’t. Elitist. Highbrow. Cultured. Glamorous. While Grant and Blake were self-made men. They’d been foster kids, a product of the system. Spit out at eighteen to fend for themselves. Somehow, Blake had managed to overcome his background and make something of himself. Turned out, all those hours since the age of fourteen spent working as a mechanic for Big John panned out. When he graduated high school, he started his own business—mostly fixing motorcycles, surviving by the skin of his teeth. By the time he was twenty-three and his brother graduated high school, he had turned B’s Bikes into the most prestigious and lucrative bike shop on the East Coast.
“Face it, man. The real problem is you don’t think you’re good enough for her. I mean, her parents clearly don’t think you’re worthy, but it wouldn’t matter if you would wake up and see that any chick would be lucky to have either of us.”
“You’re so humble,” Blake muttered, raising his paper cup to his lips.
“I’ll bet the second you two tie the knot, she’ll ask Daddy for a favor and beg you to turn in your wrench for a briefcase and a cushy office with a view on Wall Street. They’re making you jump through hoops because they can. Daddy’s got his little girl wrapped around his golden encrusted finger and vice versa.”
“You’re a real prick sometimes, you know that?”
“I’m not wrong.”
No, he wasn’t. And Blake wasn’t sure what irked him more, the fact that Grant hit the nail on the head or the fact that Blake hadn’t the balls to turn her down outright when she came to him with a proposition from her father. A month ago, she proposed the idea to prove himself to her parents, but it was practically an ultimatum. Prove he could be good with kids—a real family man—and Mr. Garwood would give Blake the blessing he wanted to propose. But he got the feeling, approval or not, working in his bike shop once they were married wouldn’t suffice. He hoped he was wrong. He knew nothing about running a hotel, and he had no desire to learn. Blake wasn’t ready yet to give up on his dreams, yet he hadn’t said anything. Why hadn’t he said no? And what about Grant? Where would that leave him? As much as he liked to think otherwise, Grant could never handle B’s Bikes on his own. He didn’t have the knowledge or the wherewithal. Blake was the bones holding everything together while Grant just added a little sheen.
When a table opened up across from them, Blake headed toward it and took a seat, waiting for Grant to follow. He adjusted his leather jacket and tried to find a way to make his brother understand. “I like her.”
“Wow. A glowing endorsement.” Grant slid into the chair across from him.
“I more than like her. You know what I mean,” Blake added hastily. One of the byproducts of a loveless childhood was having trouble expressing emotion. Love didn’t come easy to either of them. But Jen had chosen him. He had no idea why, but she had. And for that, he thanked his lucky stars.
“Okay. I’ll humor you then. How does quitting the bike shop prove you’re ready to settle down and have a family? Isn’t there something to be said for managing your current responsibilities?”
“You act like I’m moving to France,” Blake said, hedging for time. The second he told him, Grant would laugh in his face. “Since we didn’t have parents growing up and were bounced around a lot, her parents expressed their concern that I will make for a questionable father.”
