He's the One by Jane Beckenham (ready to read books .TXT) 📗

for you.” Zane thrust him back into his seat. “Now sit there and keep that trap shut, brother."

"Get it over with quick.” Cade eyed the blueprints scattered over his desk. His dream project. But not his real-life dream. That space had been taken.

Cade choked back an oath and squashed that thought. “I've got to see the builders at the new site,” he informed his brother, ever hopeful Zane would turn tail and walk right out of his office.

"Yeah, and isn't that just convenient. Business and more business. What else is there?"

"Exactly.” Cade folded his arms across his chest.

"Life? Love? Have you heard of those words?"

"I'm in no mood to listen to your ramblings, Zane."

"Haven't been in any mood since Taylor walked out on you,” his brother cut in. “Now why would that be?"

A heavy sigh slid past Cade's grim down-turned mouth. He eyed his brother. So like himself, yet very different. “You may be my brother, but right now I want to punch your lights out."

"Bring it on,” Zane chuckled and flexed his fingers back and forwards.

"Yeah, right. Anyway, I presume you're going to tell me something."

A familiar smile spread across Zane's face, and for a split second, fear knotted in Cade's gut.

"Now, that is where you're wrong. I'm not telling you anything."

"Great. About time.” Cade shoved his chair back and stood up. Zane was tall, but he was taller.

"Don't try and intimidate me, Cade. Won't work. Hasn't since I hit thirteen,” Zane said as he opened the door to the bar. “You're my big brother. I look up to you. I used to think you knew everything. I guess I was wrong.” He shrugged. “You've got to work this out for yourself, mate."

"There's nothing to work out,” Cade said flatly.

Zane made a clicking noise with his tongue. “Now that is definitely where you're wrong. So, I'll say goodbye. Happy analyzing, Cade."

Zane stepped through the door and closed it behind him, but just as the latch went to click, he popped his head back around the door. “One more thing, Cade. Our mother left because Dad didn't care enough. Do you care enough?"

And with that, the door shut with a resounding click leaving Cade alone—finally—to think. Something he was very uncomfortable doing.

* * * *

Sleep again proved elusive, and Cade tossed and turned as the hours ticked by until he heard the birds’ first call and daybreak tipped over the conical peak of Rangitoto Island in the harbor.

"Bloody birds. Shut up,” he snarled and dragged his pillow from the bed and slammed it down on his head, hoping to drown out the birdsong.

But it was no use. Nothing worked. The still strong autumn sun had long beaten a path through his bedroom window and the birds were now in full chorus. He gave up, giving them a scowl as he hauled his sorry butt towards the shower.

Maybe that would clear his head, lighten his mood.

"Not damn likely,” he grumbled as the full force of the shower hit him.

He stayed under the pulsing jet spray until the water turned frigid. Snapping off the faucet he toweled dry and dressed.

Thank God it was Sunday. At least he'd get some peace and quiet from the regulars. Their incessant questioning about Taylor's whereabouts was driving him nuts, and the fact that he couldn't answer them, made it a hundred times worse.

What was he going to do? Give up?

After his third strong, black coffee, loaded with caffeine, Cade thought perhaps he could face work, so he headed downstairs to the back room and his computer.

"Work, is what I need.” He grimaced as he eyed the piles of unopened mail. What was wrong with him? He thrived on work, on getting it done. Yet, here it was unopened for days.

An hour later, the pile hadn't diminished, and he'd achieved zilch.

"Come on, Harper, get it together.” He grabbed the nearest pile and began sorting through it, but hadn't gone more than the first couple of accounts when a thunderous knock resounded on the side door of the premises.

Cade ignored it. Maybe they'd go away. But it continued. Louder and more insistent with every thunderous rap.

"Damn it, it's Sunday,” he snarled as he wrenched the bolt back and opened the door. “Hugh?"

"Gotta talk, Cade. Gotta figure it out.” Hugh Prendergast didn't wait to be asked in, but barged past Cade and headed straight through to the bar. He grabbed a tumbler and punched it under the whiskey nozzle three times, filling his glass. Cade watched as his normally staid best friend downed the contents in one unbroken guzzle, then replenished it before turning to face him.

"You don't look too good, mate,” he said to Hugh, which was an understatement. With black circles shadowing sleep-deprived blurry eyes, Hugh looked like death. Stubble grazed his chin, and his normally dapper appearance was overshadowed by clothes which he'd obviously slept in.

"Same could be said about you."

Cade paused and eyed his reflection in a nearby window. Day old growth, bleary eyes. Yep, he looked a wreck. He turned back to Hugh. “Where's Brianna?"

"We've argued. It's over."

His jaw dropped. “You're joking?"

Hugh sank into the chair behind Cade, dropping his head into his hands. “Wish I was.” His red-rimmed eyes glistened.

This was serious.

"I should have been like you."

"What do you mean? You love Brianna."

"I know, and I do. But, oh hell,” Hugh let out a few blue expletives, and Cade winced. Hugh didn't swear. Hugh was the good boy, always in control. Knew where he was going, loved Brianna from the moment he set eyes on her.

Just like you and Taylor.

Shut up! Cade refused to listen to his inner ramblings. They didn't matter. Taylor wasn't interested.

"Look, phone her. I'm sure it's okay. New marriages always have blips."

"You reckoned marriage wasn't worth it. You're right. It's not."

"You don't mean that,” Cade said shocked at Hugh's despondency.

"Why not? You do."

"Yeah, but ... Look, Hugh. I'm not the marriage kind, but you are."

"What about that new woman ... Taylor? Katie said you're hot for her."

"Katie should mind