away from the table and took his plate to the sink, in the way of someone who had been trained well in a houseful of women.
“I’m sure the landfill still closes early on Saturday,” he said, his voice gruff. “I’d better head out so I can make it there in time to drop your branches for the wood chipper.”
He extended a hand out to snag his work gloves and protective eyewear from the counter, a movement that stretched his T-shirt over strong back muscles. Claire swallowed hard and quickly looked away.
“Thank you again for—” picking up the storm debris, kissing me senseless, making me feel wanted “—everything.”
He smiled but his green eyes were still troubled. “You’re welcome. Thanks for the chow.”
On his way out the door, he reached out and tugged a lock of Alex’s hair lightly. “See you, brat.”
“Bye, dork.”
He headed out the door and Claire watched him go, then turned back to Alex, only to find her friend aiming that narrow-eyed, probing look at her again.
“Okay, what’s going on?”
Claire willed herself not to flush. “What do you mean?”
“Was Ri bothering you?”
“Bothering me? No, of course not. He was helping me. You saw the truckload of branches. He’s been working in my yard for the last two hours.”
“Was that all he was doing?”
“What are you implying, Alexandra?”
“I don’t know. Call me crazy. I’m just catching a weird vibe.”
“Okay, you’re crazy,” she lied. “No weird vibe here.”
Alex didn’t look convinced and Claire held up the cast on her arm and gestured to her leg with it. “Look at me. I’m not exactly hot babe material here.”
“A little plaster wouldn’t stop Riley if he set his sights on a woman. You know how he is.”
Claire frowned. She’d heard the way his sisters talked about Riley’s reputation with women and it bothered her suddenly. More than that, it made her sad.
“Why do you do that?”
“Do what?” Alex asked around a mouthful of sandwich.
“You make him sound like some frat boy with a drawer full of condoms. He’s a decorated police officer. Maybe you ought to remember that and give him a little more credit.”
Alex blinked. “O-kay.” She drew out the word.
“I mean, what’s the difference between the two of you? You’re thirty-five years old and you haven’t dated any man for longer than two weeks in your life. You’ve got exactly the same commitment issues. In yourself, you consider it exercising discernment. When Riley does the same thing, you all think he’s a dog.”
“You implying I’m a female dog, Claire-a-bell? Because I can go there, if that’s what you want.”
Although Alex’s tone was mild, Claire could see the temper spark in her eyes. It jarred her back to her senses. Why was she doing this? Alex was her best friend. She loved her better than any sister.
“I’m sorry. I don’t think you’re a player, honey. You know I don’t. But Riley’s not, either.” She paused. “He’s ripped up by the accident and what happened. Layla and Taryn and…everything. Give him a break, okay?”
“Fine,” she said after a moment. “And just to show you what a kind, loving sister I am—not to mention what a good friend—I’m not even going to ask why you’re suddenly so quick to jump to his defense.”
Claire wasn’t sure she could answer that question, even if Alex had not decided to be so magnanimous.
“Now that’s out of the way, tell me the truth. How are you really feeling?”
Claire hadn’t given any thought to her assorted aches since Riley showed up with his chain saw two hours earlier.
“I don’t feel like I was dragged down the mountain behind a snowcat anymore.”
“That’s something anyway.”
“Now I’m just impatient to get back to work. I hate that I had to dump everything at the store on Evie.”
“She’s coping.” Alex rose and carried her plate to the sink, just as her brother had done. She went him one better, though, and started automatically unloading the dishwasher.
“I talked to Katherine this morning,” Claire said. Without the lifeline of her telephone, she would have gone crazy stuck here at home while she healed, not being able to even reach out to her grieving friends.
“I haven’t called in a few days,” Alex answered. “How are things?”
“She said they were placing a feeding tube through Taryn’s nose.”
“That genuinely sucks.” To Alex, who loved food and everything about creating it, Claire imagined a feeding tube would seem the worst trial a person could endure.
“Katherine said they’re talking about a long-term rehab facility for her now. Doctors said they can give her another week at the hospital while the rest of her injuries continue to heal and if she doesn’t come out of the coma by then, they’ll move her.”
So much sorrow. She couldn’t bear it. She had to do something for her friends to ease the pain a little, but she had no idea what. The usual gestures of a warm meal or a lovely card seemed wholly inadequate. She needed to do more.
“Enough of this,” Alex said, her voice firm as she closed the now-emptied dishwasher. “Let’s do something fun. I don’t have to be at the restaurant until five tonight, so I’m hanging out here with you until then.”
“You don’t have to babysit me.”
Alex raised an eyebrow. “Who said I was talking to you? I’m here to visit Chester.”
At his name, her basset hound lifted his head off the rug and gave Alex the happiest look he could muster out of his droopy eyes.
“That’s right, you gorgeous cuddle monkey. You’re such a good boy. Yes, you are.” Chester obediently rose and headed over to Alex to nudge against her leg. “Chester and I are going to snuggle up and watch Charade, aren’t we, you?”
He licked her hand, his tail wagging hard enough to churn butter.
Alex grinned at the dog, then looked up at Claire. “I guess you can join us.”
“Thank you,” she said dryly.
“A perfect afternoon, right? We can admire Audrey Hepburn and her hats and moon over the lovely Cary Grant.”
It did sound perfect, she had to admit.
The
