“Hey, I take offense to that. You know I’m not like other lawyers. I’m more…unconventional. Fun.”
“You’re looking pretty conventional right now.” Daniel gave his older brother’s pressed golf shirt a light pat. Bandit took the opportunity to bound over and deposit an orange plastic bone at Daniel’s feet.
“Oh, but I’m still unconventional underneath.” Nick raised the left sleeve, baring his arm and the tattoo he’d had for the last three years. The still-vivid image of a cartoon shark—a joke he’d had put on his arm back in law school—never showed under Nick’s suits, but usually peeked out from under the hem of his short-sleeved shirts.
“Of course. I expected nothing less. And I still think that’s the most apropos image for you, big brother. You do realize, though, that both hawks and sharks are predators? That puts you two in the same class of animal.” Daniel grinned, then tossed the bone down the hall. Bandit took off after it, running too fast and skidding past the vinyl squeaky toy before scrambling back around to snatch it up. “So what are you going to drive this time? What was it for the senior prom? A backhoe? Took out a damned tree on your way home, I might add.”
“It was a tractor. My date about died, but no one forgot my entrance.” Nick took the toy from Bandit, repeating the same scramble, miss and skid pattern as before. “That dog never learns.”
“Neither do you,” Daniel pointed out. “You’re still as crazy as when we were kids. Sending your assistant on an impromptu trip to Jamaica—”
“To boost office morale.”
Daniel went on, ignoring Nick’s interruption. “Karaoke singing, without the musical accompaniment—”
“Just having fun.”
“In court?”
Nick shrugged, pleading no contest to the charges. “I won the case, I might add. Proved my client’s jingle was not offensive.”
“And hosting a birthday party for your nephew, complete with pony rides and a petting zoo in your backyard, for God’s sake. You know that you about made our sister have a heart attack. She is not the pony ride type.” Daniel shook his head. “It’s like you thrive on fun.”
Daniel was right. He did indeed thrive on having fun. After growing up in a hectic family, fun was what he knew. It was as familiar as his own face, and it gave him an odd sense of comfort. And it helped him feel like he hadn’t become too much of a grown-up yet.
But lately it had grown tired. He had a house—an investment property—but it was empty, except for Monday nights when his friends came over to watch the game. He’d dated women who laughed, women who were…fun. But not serious.
Carolyn Duff had been serious. The one serious girl on the Lawford U campus. So serious she’d offered a challenge, an exciting allure to Nick, who’d set out to make her smile, laugh. After their first date he’d found something in her he hadn’t found in other women, a depth of character that made him want to try harder. Be more than he had been up until then. She’d brought a sober touch to his life, the kind that had him toying with the idea of settling down, becoming a grown-up. And so he’d had that crazy idea of running off to Vegas and getting married.
Because he’d thought he could have it all.
But no.
Nick swallowed the bitter taste of disappointment. He was happier this way anyway. Unencumbered. Free. Answering to no one’s drum but his own.
He slid the directions to the picnic into his pocket, then checked again to be sure he had his keys and wallet, along with a deck of cards. “Well, I’m not doing anything like that today. I’ve had enough surprises for a while.”
Daniel walked with his brother to the door and waited while Nick locked up, leaving a dejected Bandit inside. “Where you and Carolyn are concerned, I think the surprises are just starting.”
“No, we’re over. Have been since she dumped me on the drive home from Vegas three years ago.”
“Uh-huh,” Daniel said, clearly not believing a word. “I’ll believe that when I see you two together and there’s no more electricity between you than two clods of dirt. Remember the day I stopped by for lunch last year? I saw the two of you in the hallway of the courtroom. I’m lucky I’m still alive.”
“What do you mean, still alive?”
Daniel clutched his heart and faked gagging. “The way you two looked at each other, it was like a couple of light sabers going at it. She wants you. You want her. If the math was any simpler, it would be preschool.”
“You forget everything else that goes into that equation. Like the fact that she ditched me to go off and put herself into the middle of a hostage situation, even after I begged her not to. That she also realized she didn’t have time for a marriage, not that and a career, too. That this had all been some crazy impromptu decision she made and just wanted to forget. Like buying a pair of shoes that didn’t match her dress.”
Daniel chuckled. “Aren’t we the jaded one?”
“Come talk to me when you make a commitment to something other than a car lease.”
Daniel raised his hands in surrender. The two men headed down the stairs of Nick’s front porch and paused at the end of the walkway. The July sun had already raised the temperature to the mid eighties, making Nick glad he’d opted for light khaki shorts to wear with the cream shirt. The event organizers had put “casual attire” on the invitations, not “business,” and for that, Nick was grateful. There was nothing worse than standing around all day in the heat in a suit.
“So, you’re still claiming you have no interest in her?” Daniel asked.
Nick shook his head. “There’s nothing between us. Not anymore.”
Daniel tick-tocked a finger at him. “Don’t lie to me, big brother. I grew up with you, remember? I know the signs of you getting ready for a date.”
“It’s a benefit picnic. For needy children.”
Daniel laughed. “And the children really needed you to wear cologne, trim your nails and press your shirt?”
“I wanted to look…” Nick cut himself off before he said the word good, which would imply that he cared what Carolyn thought of his appearance. And he didn’t care. At all. “Professional.”
“Let’s see how ‘professional’ Carolyn looks in your eyes today.” Daniel winked. “And like I said, how long the two of you resist each other.”
Carolyn sat at a picnic table on the fairgrounds of the Lawford City Park, surrounded by busy, chattering children, and did her best to keep her gaze off the park’s gaily decorated entrance and on the task at hand. The problem was, she wasn’t very good at either.
She’d bought a new dress—darn Mary and her suggestion—just that morning. She shifted on the bench, acutely aware of the bright-blue-and-white dress and how she had gone to an awful lot of work on her appearance for something that was supposed to be casual.
“Geez, Miss Duff, can’t you make an eagle?” a
