Page 3 of So Bad It Must Be Good

Mortified that he’d clearly not only realized she was upset, but misconstrued the reason, Kayla thrust her credit card at him.

“I—”

“I want a receipt,” she countered, not allowing him to take back the price or the sale. She thrust the card at him again and he took it with a sigh.

He grumbled something, but she didn’t catch it, and honestly that was probably for the best. He ran the card through the attachment on his phone before handing it back to her.

“I can wrap it for you,” he said, nodding toward the figurine she’d grabbed.

She closed her fingers tighter around the bear. “No, this will be fine.” Maybe it could be something of a talisman. Because if things didn’t change soon . . .

She glanced back at the brick building of Gallagher’s Tap Room that loomed behind her. She couldn’t go back.

So she had to move forward.

“Goodbye, Liam.”

“I thought you wanted a receipt.”

She shook her head, stepping away from his table, away from Gallagher’s. “No, I’m fine.” She would be. She would be.

* * *

Liam stepped into his parents’ house after dropping off his stock at home. He hadn’t told either of them about his foray into selling his hobby, and he didn’t plan to. The last thing he needed was Dad thinking his focus was split from their handyman business.

Liam was used to keeping things from his parents, from the people he loved. He’d learned to keep hopes and dreams and things of that nature to himself, and do what needed to be done. That was his role in the Patrick clan, and he took it very seriously.

They all took their roles seriously, he supposed. Mom protested things, Dad fixed things, and neither of them would ever submit to “suburban boredom.” Liam sometimes wished they would, but he never told them that.

Aiden was the “free spirit” and the one who got to do whatever the hell he damn well pleased, and Liam was the good son. The dutiful son. The partner. He’d stood up and been everything his older brother hadn’t been.

He heard laughing from the kitchen, Aiden and Mom, because somehow Aiden was still the hero. Liam knew he was appreciated, but he was never . . . that other thing. He’d never been able to figure out what it was, what they gave Aiden that they didn’t give him. He only knew it existed.

Liam didn’t care for the reminder he could be as childish as his brother, but a bitterness lingered any time Aiden was around.

“Liam? Is that you? We’re in the kitchen,” Mom called.

He might have some childhood bitterness toward his brother, but that didn’t mean he had to show it. Just another thing to keep to himself. Just another thing to swallow down and act like it didn’t matter.

Because it didn’t matter, not in a way he could change, so there was no use dwelling.

Liam pushed out a breath, trying to force out old, useless feelings. He focused on the fact that he loved his family wholeheartedly, with everything he was. With everything he had. He made sacrifices not because he had to, but because it was a choice he made to make the people in his family happy.

He’d always felt that way, and Dad’s heart attack two years ago had only cemented that certainty. He’d made promises in that hospital room, to his father, to God, to himself.

So maybe parts of him were bitter, but he wouldn’t change a damn thing. His family’s happiness was the most important thing.

And when will you worry about your own happiness?

He didn’t want to contemplate that. So he stepped in the kitchen with his best approximation of a smile.

“There you are, slowpoke. Your father is still with the Mosleys, and you know they’ll feed him dinner. I was going to make you boys something, but I actually have to go. My group is meeting at Monsanto.”

“Should we be prepared to have to bail you out?”

Mom patted Aiden’s cheek, smiling. “You never know! Plenty of food in the fridge. We’ll plan family dinner another night.” She hurried out of the kitchen without a second glance, clearly in crusader mode.

“I don’t know if we should be encouraging her,” Liam said, feeling exhausted because God knew Mom getting arrested wasn’t that far out of the realm of possibility.

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