HEFTED the box of books onto his shoulder, balancing it carefully before he started up the front steps of Dylan’s flat. “This will be something new,” he called to Conor. “Books in Dylan’s apartment. I guess he’ll have to throw away his collection of girlie magazines to make room.”
Meggie Flanagan, Dylan’s fiancée, stood on the porch, her hands braced on her hips, her cheeks rosy from the cold. “We already got rid of them,” she teased, slapping Brendan’s arm playfully as he passed. “Now if I could only get rid of that awful leather recliner, I’d be happy.”
Dylan emerged from the front door and grabbed her from behind, giving her a playful kiss on the neck. “I haven’t really showed you what we can do in that recliner,” he teased. “You may come to appreciate it much more.”
Moving day had been planned for almost two weeks and it was a tradition in the Quinn family that hiring professional movers was a waste of money—especially when a guy had five strong and willing brothers to do the job. It had never been a chore, since the six brothers enjoyed each other’s company—and they didn’t change their addresses that often. Besides Brendan hadn’t seen any of his brothers since Conor and Olivia’s wedding and it was nice to catch up.
Brendan grinned at Meggie. “Yeah, wait till he shows you how he can balance a beer can on one arm and a bowl of chips on the other while he wields the remote. You’ll never love him more.”
Meggie’s giggle followed him as he slowly climbed the stairs to the second-floor flat. Though Brendan hated to admit it, the more time he spent with Dylan and Meggie—and Conor and Olivia—the more he was beginning to feel like an outsider in his own family. Just a few months ago, all six Quinn brothers were happily unattached—and planning to stay that way. Now, it was as if some disease had befallen the two oldest sons. Conor had already made a trip to the altar and Dylan was due to march to his doom sometime in June. But they didn’t act like men who had succumbed to some disaster. Instead, they behaved as if they shared a special secret that they weren’t telling anyone else.
Brendan certainly didn’t begrudge his brothers their happiness. But he had to wonder how they could have turned from confirmed bachelors into lovestruck fools in such a short time. Brendan couldn’t imagine the same thing happening to him. He’d always been able to keep the women in his life in proper perspective— separate from his career and the life he had chosen to lead. He had thought his brothers possessed the same talent, but he’d obviously been wrong.
“You haven’t said much today,” Conor commented, stepping up behind him to help him lower the box of books to the floor. “Everything going all right with the book?”
“Fine,” Brendan said, wiping his hands on the thighs of his jeans.
“No problems getting it all done?”
“Not anymore. I’ve hired an assistant to help me out.”
Conor blinked in surprise. “You’ve never had an assistant before,” he said. “Why now?”
Brendan smiled. He really hadn’t intended to tell anyone about Amy. But there were certain concerns he had, concerns that Conor, a police detective, might help to alleviate. “She just stumbled across my path and she needed a job, so I gave her one.”
Conor stared at him for a long moment, then walked into the kitchen and retrieved a couple of bottles of beer from the refrigerator. Using the front of his T-shirt, he twisted one open and handed it to Brendan, then opened the other for himself. “You just gave her a job?”
Brendan nodded, taking a quick sip of the cold beer. Even though the temperature outside was below freezing, climbing up and down the stairs with heavy boxes had worked up a decent sweat. “Yeah, I know it sounds a little rash. But I was partly responsible for getting her fired from her regular job. And getting her kicked out of the room she was renting. I felt a responsibility to give her a place to stay for the night.” He shrugged. “Then, all of a sudden, she talked me into offering her a job. I pay her in cash, give her a place to stay and she’s at my beck and call.”
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