everything she’d thought was safe and secure.
When she’d transferred to Chicago for a fresh start Maeve had been the one to give it to her. Maeve’s had been the open heart she’d so desperately needed after having so many others shut against her.
When it looked like Garrett might be ready to argue Nichole held up a staying finger. “And because I think you’re a very good guy. I know too much about the part of you that has nothing to do with whispering panties and everything to do with the care and protection of your family. I know about the guy who drives around Chicago at five in the morning after a big snow to dig out his sisters’ cars so they can drive to work. The guy who puts his own needs last every time. And the guy who knows the value of a simple sunset.”
“Are you whispering me right now?”
Nichole shook her head, half wishing she was. “No, I’m telling you why this won’t work. It’s because you’re too good of a guy for me not to fall for. I’m not ready for something serious and I don’t know how to do casual. Believe it or not, that’s actually how your name came up with Maeve. She’d been joking around about you giving me lessons on keeping it light. She even threatened to set us up. Ironic, huh?”
When Nichole looked up from the neat stack of her hands on her knees Garrett was watching her, his brows drawn down so his shadowed eyes left her guessing at his reaction.
“So what are we going to do about this … thing between us?”
“What we planned from the start. Ignore it.” She let out a soft laugh. “Find a distraction until it goes away. Because us getting together would be a mistake and I think we both know it.”
“Okay, Nichole. I get it.” Garrett pushed to his feet and, taking her hand, pulled her to her own.
Looking down at where their fingers had intertwined, she asked, “No more whispering?”
One last rough stroke of his thumb across her knuckles and he let her go. “Not tonight.”
GARRETT GRIPPED THE WHEEL, ten and two, his knuckles going white as his most beloved baby sister rambled on, heedless of how close she was to being dumped by the side of a road and left to hoof it the rest of the way to Carla’s in the next burb over.
“… all I’m saying is you don’t have to be such a hard-ass about everything all the time—sorry, Aunt Gloria.”
Their great-aunt waved a papery hand, her focus on the passing houses more than on the fight Maeve had picked with him the moment she’d slid into the backseat.
“You think I like this? That I enjoy always being the heavy? Come on, Maeve. If I don’t tell Erin to turn her head on and open her eyes about this guy then who the hell will? You? Beth? Carla? I don’t think so. You girls are so caught up in all the romance B.S. you don’t even register the impracticality of a guy who literally weaves baskets for a living.”
“He’s an artist,” she sniped back.
“Oh, he is. Everyone was talking about how beautiful his work was at the Acres.”
The seniors’ living facility where his latest works were on sale.
Maeve’s eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms over her chest. “It doesn’t matter what he does, Garrett. Erin loves him.”
At his scoff, she grumbled from the back, “And to think I’d been looking forward to seeing you. Where have you been anyway?”
He made some noise about work and scowled at the road ahead, not wanting to get into it. But Maeve was … Maeve.
“Cripes, it’s either feast or famine with you. Years of you only pulling your head out of your business and books long enough to bitch about whatever we’re doing wrong, and then suddenly you’re like a plague. Everywhere.” Her eyes rolled as she let out a dramatic huff. “And just when I start thinking it was kind of fun having you around, you drop off the face of the earth again.”
Teeth gritting down, he glanced in the mirror at her. “You’ve managed fine in the past.”
“Yeah, but I always had Nichole around. And she’s been suspiciously absent these last couple weeks. Tired. Busy. Working late.”
Garrett’s hands tightened on the wheel as the implication hung in the air.
Damn it.
“Anything you want to own up to?”
Not even close. “No.”
The silence stretched between them until finally he shot a demanding look into the rearview mirror. “What?” “I thought you liked her.”
“I do.” More than he should, considering what he had to offer.
“You know, Garrett, I’ve always wanted a sister.” Wonderful. And now she was playing with him for sport. Because that was what demon sisters did.
Breathe. Don’t start looking for a ditch. “You have three.”
“But not a little sister. You know Nikki is two months younger than I am?”
“It’s not like that, Maeve.”
Gloria’s frail hand reached up through the seats to pinch his cheek. “It’s wonderful, dear. All your wild-oat sowing has to stop sometime. Nikki’s a darling girl.”
Another reminder that Nichole was in with his entire family. Including his great-aunt.
“It’s not like that,” he said again, though why he bothered he had no idea.
“So what’s it like, then, Big Brother?”
Did he really want to have this conversation? Only a glance into the back showed that both women, despite their respective teasing and maternal pats, were intent on getting the scoop. And maybe saying it out loud would help it finally sink in.
“I don’t want to marry her.”
Maeve barked out an indignant cough. “Geez, I didn’t realize she’d asked.”
Snide. Nice.
“She didn’t. Obviously. But—” Damn it, he’d wanted to get that critical tidbit out first, because it seemed important. But the way it landed he sounded like an ass. For more than one reason. Cue the clarifications. “I’m just trying to explain. It isn’t because she isn’t good enough. She is. I mean, I can’t believe either of those schmucks she was engaged to let her get away. Any guy would be lucky to have her. Trust me when I tell you I want to have her. Just not in the way she deserves.”
“It’s okay,” Maeve offered from the backseat. “You’ve had an overfull plate for a long time. And after Mom and Dad you have a hard time letting people in. Getting close. You aren’t ready to think about marriage yet.”
He
