Page 88 of The Love Losers

CHAPTER THIRTY

ROSIE

I can’t bear to go back to my brother’s house yet, so I drive downtown and park outside of Claire’s bakery. Then I walk over to the Christmas tree in Town Square. There’s a hot chocolate stand with a red awning, four benches, and the tree itself, presiding over all of it.

When I was a kid, my father used to take us to tree lightings, and he’d hoist me up onto his shoulders so I could watch the magic happen. I miss the feeling of knowing everything would be okay because it was on someone else, someone I trusted, to make sure of it.

Except I was never safe. I only thought I was.

My dad had probably already been in my uncle’s pocket, siphoning his brother’s dirty money through his construction business.

I stand there for a while, staring at the tree, trying to make myself feel something other than awful, but it’s not working today. Deep in my bones, I feel like someone who’ll always pick the wrong card. A loser. A lowlife. A woman who ruins everything without even trying.

I’m still standing there, shivering in my coat, when someone puts a hand on my arm. My instant reaction is to strike out, so I do, but it’s like hitting a sack of bricks.

My brother Declan grunts and rubs his arm. He’s wearing his overcoat and a colorful scarf there’s no chance in hell he picked out for himself. I’m guessing it’s a gift Joy foisted upon him, because Claire would have known better. “You’re stronger than I thought.”

“And your arm probably broke my hand,” I say, shaking it out.

“What’s wrong? Where have you been? Joy’s been trying to cover for you, but I’m guessing you weren’t doing last minute shopping all day.”

The stormy look on his face says he’s probably already guessed, even though the last he heard from me was that I was trying to find Anthony someone else to marry.

“I think I’m falling in love, and it’s awful,” I confess, glancing back at the tree. The lights are pretty and bright and completely empty of joy.

“With that guy Anthony?” he asks gruffly.

“Yes,” I admit, giving him a sidelong glance. “I didn’t mean to.”

His cheek twitches. “That’s the way it happens. What are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing,” I reply. “He doesn’t need my problems.”

He turns me toward him. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not going to ruin your proposal, Declan.” Fresh tears press at my eyes. “I’ve already messed up everything else. You need to take Claire to New York City. I’m not going to be the reason you don’t go on your big trip.”

“I hate New York City,” he says with a huff. “It’s loud, and it’s dirty and smelly, there are about seventy-five percent toomany cars. If you give me an excuse not to go, it’ll be the best Christmas present you’ve ever given me.”

I smile through my misery. “What about Seamus and Claire’s dad?”

“Seamus can get off his lazy ass and drive here. Maybe the two of them can take a road trip together.”

That thought makes my smile grow—Claire’s sweet father on a seven-plus-hour drive with my wild brother. What music would they listen to? Would Claire’s dad bring muffins to share?

“That would be epic,” I admit, “but I don’t want to ruin your plans. Ialwaysseem to ruin your plans.”

“Bullshit,” he says, and a couple with two small children turn to scowl at him.

He waves, and they move several feet to the left, which must just be to make a point, since they’ll be able to hear us perfectly well in their new position.

“Bullshit,” Declan whispers. “You helped convince me to take a chance on myself. This life I have…I’m not sure I’d still have it if it weren’t for you.”

Some of the tears escape my eyes, and the look of horror on Declan’s face almost makes me laugh.

“It’s okay, Dec,” I say. “They say crying’s good for you.”

“What’d he do?” he says in a pissed-off, low-pitched voice. “I’m not going to lie, I’m afraid of that old woman, but that won’t stop me from beating him up if he hurt you.”

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