Читать книгу Tough Love - Lori Foster - Страница 13
ОглавлениеWALKING PNEUMONIA. NO WONDER his mother felt so bad. She hadn’t collapsed as Tabby had claimed, but she’d been coughing, lost her breath, stumbled and fell. She’d hit her head pretty hard, but luckily didn’t have a concussion.
Still, she’d gotten a few stitches, a lot of bruises and, according to the doctor, a bad attitude.
Sounded like his mom. She didn’t take well to illness or injury. Like a petite steamroller, she always plowed on.
Overall, she wasn’t badly hurt. But she would need a lot more rest, meds, and her head would no doubt ache for a while.
Since she had her eyes closed, Stack took a moment just to look at her. Thanks to her frequent salon visits, her hair was a little lighter than his and Tabby’s. She usually had it styled. Tonight dried blood left it stiffened, darker around one side of her face.
A few new smile lines—his dad’s description—showed around her eyes and mouth. In better circumstances, she’d probably have downplayed them with makeup. Being here like this, with the loss of dignity, would make her nuts. She always tried to make the best appearance.
Not that his dad had ever cared. Through good times and bad, sickness and health, he’d loved her openly. Just as his mother had loved his dad.
Memories wrought a sad smile as Stack recalled the way his dad had always chased his mom, the outrageous compliments, the risqué teasing. Every day, for as long as Stack could remember, his dad had made it clear that he desired her, that he wanted her. That she was it for him. Always.
Stack and Tabby had grown so used to it, it hadn’t embarrassed them. Much.
Always flustered his mom, though. She’d blush and smack at his dad and whisper for him to behave. But she’d also smile with love shining in her eyes.
There were times she’d been sick, times she’d been sad over the loss of a relative or friend, times she’d been stressed or worried, and his dad would pamper her into near insanity, to the point she could feel little except happiness.
They’d been deeply, demonstratively in love...until his dad died six years ago.
“I hope you’re not mentally making funeral arrangements, because I’m not gone yet.” Lynn Hannigan hadn’t bothered to open her eyes to make that outrageous statement. “Do I look too awful to get a kiss? After all, it’s been a while.”
“You never look awful.” Stack came in, carefully seated himself on the side of the bed, and took her hand.
When she gave him a one-eyed glare, he dutifully bent and kissed her cheek.
She closed that eye again. “Better. But if I’m not dying, why were you hanging over there, being all pensive and morbid?”
He huffed a small laugh. “Actually, I was thinking of Dad.”
“Oh, Lord. If the man was still alive, he’d be fretting over me, pampering me and—”
“Loving you.”
“Especially that.” Her eyes tightened.
Stack considered her pained expression. “Headache?”
“It’s like a herd of angry elephants are having a brawl.”
The sentiment made him smile despite his concern. “I’ve missed you.”
“Missed you more.”
“All you had to do was call. You know that.”
That same eye peeked open again. “And say what? That Tabby was the same, that Phil was still around, that nothing much had changed?”
He didn’t reply. Yeah, he’d made those stipulations, told them all that until they got their shit together—which namely involved kicking Phil to the curb—he wouldn’t be around to witness the lunacy.
Yet here he was.
“Tell you what.” He concentrated on the nastiest of bruises just under her stitches. “Here on out, you and I can meet for lunch or something. At least once a week. More if you want.”
She sighed. Of course she couldn’t. Cleaning up Tabby’s messes was a full-time job.
Stack gently patted her hand. “We’ll make it work.”
“I’d like that.” Another peek. “Because I love you.”
“Ditto.”
The sniffling alerted them both, and a second later, Tabby peeked past the curtains. “Mom?”
“She’s okay.” Stack stood and made room for his weepy and worried sister to slip in. “No concussion. But she has walking pneumonia. And exhaustion. She needs some downtime, Tabby.” He crossed his arms. “The doc tells me she was trying to take care of your dogs when she started coughing and fell.”
Tabby glared at him. As if their mother was deaf, she hissed in a loud whisper, “What do you expect me to do? I have to work, and my landlord said I couldn’t leave the dogs there unattended anymore.”
Stack popped his neck and swallowed down his ire. No way would he get into this with her. Not again, definitely not here. Showing his teeth in a “we’ll discuss it later” smile, he said, “I’ll let the two of you visit.”
“You don’t have to run off. Your girlfriend seems to be enjoying herself.”
Alarm raced up his spine.
Oblivious, Tabby said, “Mom, did you know Stack brought a woman with him?”
That got both of his mother’s eyes open. She even lifted to one elbow. “What? Who?” She looked around. “Where is she?”
“In the waiting room with Phil. You should see her. She’s beautiful, built and really nice, too.”
“Stack,” his mother said, getting her first good look at him. “Are you in a tux?”
“Be right back.”
“I want to meet her!”
Stack didn’t reply. For a woman who only moments before had been incapacitated with a headache, his mother still knew how to issue orders. Urgency made his stride long and hurried as he went down the hall, past friendly nurses and a few worried visitors, all the way to the waiting room.
Vanity had her nose in a magazine.
And Phil, fucking Phil, was seated too close beside her, talking nonstop, fake laughing, schmoozing, doing his utmost to get her attention.
Vanity ignored him—just as she sometimes ignored Stack.
But this time, as she felt his stare and looked up, she immediately put the magazine aside. Smiling, she came to him, walking right into his arms. “Hey.” She squeezed him with comforting concern. “How’s your mom?”
In that moment, Stack felt a lot of things. Too many things, damn it. At either side of her head he threaded his fingers into her long hair, anchoring her for his kiss.
Out of deference for the hospital atmosphere, he kept it brief. “She’s okay. How are you holding up?”
“Me?” She laughed, looking not just gorgeous, but precious, too. Her hand rubbed his biceps. “I’m not the one who was hurt.”
That earned her another kiss before he lifted her arm and feathered his fingertips over the soft skin above the bandage. “It’s been one hell of a day. You haven’t had any sleep.”
“Neither have you.” That sweet, teasing smile twitched into place. In the barest of whispers, she said, “But at least I had two orgasms, so all in all, for me, it’s been a pretty good twenty-four hours.”
Urges rushed through Stack. The urge to hold her. To laugh with her. To use her to chase away the endless frustration he worked so hard to hide. To maybe confide in her about how badly he wanted to demolish Phil—and why.
To somehow claim her...for more than a quick taste.
In that moment it all became clear to him. Vanity tried to control things. But he needed that control, and once he had it he’d sway her to his way of thinking.
Namely, that one day together would never be enough to get his fill. Hell, a week together might not do it.
She constantly took him by surprise, so maybe it was time for him to start surprising her. He’d start right now.
Because they lingered, Phil cautiously edged toward them. Stack stopped him with a dead stare meant to convey his utter disdain. Must’ve worked, too.
Raising his hands, Phil slunk away.
“Tsk. That wasn’t very nice,” Vanity chided. “You should save that wolf’s glare for the cage.”
“You don’t need to concern yourself with him. Ever.” Assuming she’d take heed of his warning, Stack drifted his hand down her arm until his fingers twined with hers. “Come on.” He brought her along as he retraced his steps back to his mother’s bed.
Bemused, she asked, “Where are we going?”
“I need to talk to my mom. And then to my sister.” And maybe to fucking Phil. “But I want you with me.”
“Aww.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “That’s sweet.”
Stack popped his neck again. “It’s not sweet, and it doesn’t mean anything.” Even though he’d never before willingly introduced a woman to his family.
And if it wasn’t for Phil...yeah, he’d probably still feel compelled to keep her close. He’d blame that on blue balls. She might have gotten hers, twice as she’d pointed out, but his was still very much on the “to do” list.
“Right. It means nothing.” She came along, her attitude buoyant, happy. “I won’t make anything of it. I mean, if I hadn’t forced my way along in the first place, I wouldn’t even be here now, able to accompany you—”
He stopped dead in his tracks.
Tilting her head, Vanity asked, “Stack?”
How could she be happy after the day they’d had? After performing as Yvette’s maid of honor, partying for hours, then dealing with a wreck...and stalled sex. She had to be functioning on lost reserves.
But she didn’t show it.
The only other person he knew with that much energy was Armie. God willing, that’d be the only thing Vanity had in common with him, because Armie was the most outrageous person he knew.
Forcing the words out, Stack explained, “It’s just that I don’t want you out there with Phil.” He started walking again.
“Got it.” They’d almost reached his mother before she added, “But you should know he’s harmless, at least to me.”
“Harmless, huh?” Not a description he’d apply to the scumbag user his sister adored.
“Next to you,” Vanity said, “he’s almost invisible. And how can an invisible man be a problem?”
This time his feet kept moving, but damned if everything else didn’t stop. His heart. His thoughts.
Even his tempered anger receded.
Pausing outside the curtained-off room, Stack struggled to sort his thoughts.
Tucking closer to him, Vanity whispered, “She’s really okay?”
Just as low, he replied, “Sick, injured, but she has a backbone of steel.”
Through the curtain they heard, “A boot of steel, too, if you don’t get in here, young man.”
Despite the coming arguments, Stack had to grin. “Brace yourself,” he told Vanity, and then he swept aside the curtain.
* * *
WITH THE EXCEPTION of f’ing Phil, Vanity really liked Stack’s family. Both his mom and his sister were unique, and she appreciated that. Unique was good. It beat run-of-the-mill any day.
She socialized easily with just about everyone. But she’d always gravitated to people who stood out, who didn’t just follow the pack. The ladies in Stack’s life were as far from the pack as they could get.
Tabitha was indeed a drama queen, but in a very likable way. She overly emoted about everything. Her mother’s illness and fall, the weather, her brother...
And Vanity.
She didn’t just say, “Nice to meet you.” No, she took the simple greeting to new heights, saying to her mother, “Isn’t she gorgeous? And look at that hair! Ohmigod, her hair. Vanity, your hair! Ugh, it’s amazing. And if you weren’t so damned nice, I’d hate you for that body. Mom, can’t you just hate her for that? I mean, look at her. Vanity, look at you.”
Feeling a little self-conscious, Vanity had laughed and given the requisite, “Thank you.”
Stack wore the smallest, most indulgent smile, and amusement had brightened his eyes.
The senior Hannigan, Lynn, just rolled with the punches, saying “Yes, Tabby, she’s just plain lovely.” Then she’d narrowed her eyes at Stack and added, “You brought me a woman.”
“No.” Stack had stiffened, his mood switching from humor to defensive alarm. “I didn’t bring her to you, Mom. She’s not a gift.”
Tabitha had elbowed him. “Because you damn sure plan to take her with you when you leave, huh?”
“You have the sharpest damned elbow!”
“Maybe I should compete, like you do.”
“You’d defeat more guys with your big mouth than—”
And Lynn had ordered, “Both of you, desist. Tabby, keep your elbows to yourself. Stack, stop insulting your sister. Chairs. Sit. Quiet.”
And they had.
That had left Vanity standing—until Stack had snagged her waist and drew her onto his lap.
Both Lynn and Tabitha had grinned over that.
Now, fifteen minutes after she’d arrived in the room, Vanity wasn’t sure how to proceed. They were waiting for the doctor to sign Lynn out of the hospital and give them the discharge instructions. In that time, she’d run out of inane conversation, yet Tabitha and Lynn continued to watch her, almost as they would an oddity. Did they expect her to do tricks?
Into the silence, Tabitha sat forward and blurted, “How is it that Stack’s in a tux and you’re in jeans?”
Stack zeroed in on her, maybe thinking she’d spill the beans about their special arrangement. Not likely. She could only imagine how his mother and sister would react to that.
Though he tried to look relaxed, the thighs beneath her bottom were taut, and as she repeatedly traced his shoulder blades and pronounced muscles of his back, she felt the tension coiling.
“He drove me home,” Vanity explained, sticking to partial truths. “I changed out of my dress to help unload all the wedding gifts from his trunk, but then we got the call that your mother was hurt.”
“Hmm.” His mother, a truly attractive woman despite the physical evidence of her recent mishap, took her shrewd gaze from Stack to Vanity and back again. “So you’d gone to the wedding together?”
“Yes.” Vanity lightly patted his back, letting him know to trust her. “I had to beg and plead because, well, you do realize that Stack is date-phobic.”
“Date-phobic?” Tabitha asked.
“You didn’t know?”
His tone a clear warning, Stack said, “Vanity.”
She ignored him but leaned in to share, sotto voce, “He doesn’t want any woman getting ideas. So while he doesn’t lack female company, he mostly just hooks up at Rowdy’s bar or sometimes with the different women who frequent the rec center.”
Both ladies were wide-eyed as she divulged those illicit details.
“Vanity,” Stack said, “is best friends with Cannon’s wife. They knew each other in California, and since Yvette moved here, Vanity recently did, too.” He gave her a wicked smile. “Now she’s one of those women who frequent the rec center.”
“True enough,” Vanity said with a shrug. Just to keep him on his toes, she tweaked him with some observations. “There is, of course, serious man-candy inhabiting the rec center. Hot fighters with hotter bodies.” She bobbed her eyebrows. “But still, Stack stands out.”
Stack gave a long-suffering sigh.
Fascinated, Lynn asked, “You like the looks of Stack, is that it?”
“Well, I’m not dead. Of course I appreciate how sexy he is.”
Tabitha snickered.
“But,” Lynn continued, “you think all the other men at the gym are also attractive?”
“Well, sure.” Vanity tipped her head. “Have you met his fighter friends?”
“Many of them, yes.”
“Then you know what I mean.” Clearly Lynn hoped to get a lead on her feelings for Stack, but until Vanity made it clear to Stack herself, she figured it’d be best to keep her secrets.
Changing the subject, Tabitha leaned toward her brother. “Did she really beg and plead with you?”
Stack turned those smoky blue eyes on Vanity, and she gulped, barely able to keep her carefree smile in place. The corners of his sexy mouth lifted just enough to suggest she might regret taunting him.
Because, yes, she’d begged—but not for a date.
Only while they were in bed, when Stack had her on the cusp of release, had she pleaded with him.
“No,” Vanity said suddenly, tearing her gaze from Stack’s. “No, I didn’t really plead. I wouldn’t.” Her laugh sounded ridiculous and far too phony. “But Stack is reasonable, so when I asked him to accompany me, as friends so I wouldn’t have to go alone, he agreed.”
From behind her, a male voice said, “No way would you have to go anywhere alone.”
Stack went rigid, then deliberately remote.
Interesting. So he didn’t want to upset his mother by giving his dislike of Phil free rein?
Seeming oblivious—or maybe secure in the fact that Stack wouldn’t cause a scene in the hospital—f’ing Phil strode toward his wife.
Leaving Stack’s lap, Vanity took a strategic stance between the two men.
Phil smiled at her, and the idiot’s gaze dipped over her body.
Silently seething, Stack rose to his feet, all six feet of bad attitude and honed ability.
Would he cause a scene here? God, she hoped not.
Luckily, a nurse stepped through the curtain. “Mrs. Hannigan, are you ready to go home?”
“Yes,” Tabitha said with feeling, as if she’d been the one stitched and bandaged.
Lynn only smiled. “If you’re ready to sign me out, I just need to get dressed.”
The nurse looked at Tabitha. “Would you like to help her while I take care of the remaining paperwork and go over her instructions?”
“Sounds like a plan.” Stack maneuvered himself behind f’ing Phil, nudging him forward. “The ladies can stay here, and we guys can wait in the hall.”
Startled, Phil looked to his wife for assistance, but she’d already moved to the folded pile of her mother’s clothes.
Was Vanity the only one to see the concern on Lynn’s face? She didn’t know how she could help—but she knew how to hinder.
Hugging Stack’s arm, she smiled at him. “Since I’m not a relative, I’ll go with you guys.”
Undeterred, Stack shrugged. “Suit yourself.” Then he proceeded to prod Phil forward, and since Vanity had latched on to Stack’s arm, she had to take part in that.
They’d barely cleared the room before Stack gently shook her off, then locked a hand around the back of Phil’s neck. Without a word, he propelled his brother-in-law forward. Where they were going, Vanity didn’t know, but she hustled to keep up.
A few people gave them funny looks, maybe because Phil resisted—to no avail—or maybe because of the killing look on Stack’s face.
Trying to soften the impression, Vanity smiled at everyone.
At Stack’s silent instruction they entered an empty waiting room littered with half-empty foam cups of coffee. After shouldering the door shut, Stack released Phil.
He staggered forward but quickly turned as if he didn’t trust Stack at his back. One hand rubbing his neck, he frowned. “What the hell, man?”
Stack pointed. “I told you I didn’t want to see you.”
“I have a right to visit my wife.”
“And I have the right to beat the shit out of you.”
“Uh...” Looking left and right, Phil sought escape.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Stack told him.
“Jesus!” As if he couldn’t take it anymore, f’ing Phil shoved his fingers through his hair. “It’s been three months, man.”
“Shut up.”
“Three fucking months. And you didn’t even care about her! If you had, you would have—”
Before Vanity could get her mind around the fact that a woman had started the animosity, Stack grabbed Phil and slammed him into a wall.
“Whoa.” She slipped up to Stack’s side. “Okay, I get the idea that he probably deserves to be demolished.”
Phil looked at her like a lifeline. He opened his mouth, and Vanity said, “Seriously, you need to shut it before he kills you.”
Phil clamped his lips together.
Vanity watched him a moment more, decided he’d be quiet, and switched her attention to Stack.
He was smiling. At her.
Well...that was good. Unsettling, but good. “You’re okay now?”
“I was never not okay.” His gaze cut back to Phil. “But, no, I’m not done if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Oh.” Seeing that Stack did, indeed, have control of his temper, she stepped aside. “Carry on, then.”
Keeping Phil pinned to the wall, Stack dropped his head and laughed.
“Uh...” Phil tried to wiggle free but didn’t make any headway, especially when Stack tightened his hold.
Lifting his head again, Stack said to Vanity, “I don’t need your permission, darlin’.”
“Naturally not, since we’re only friends.”
His eyes narrowed but not with anger. Maybe with...heated insistence? “Friends with benefits,” he reminded her.
She put her hands on her hips. “Now did f’ing Phil need to know that?”
“F’ing Phil?” he asked.
Examining a nail, she explained, “Unlike you, I try not to curse unnecessarily.”
“When is it ever necessary?”
Jaw locking, she growled, “There are times.” Like right now, maybe. She tipped her head at Phil. “How long is this going to take?”
“Don’t suppose you’d step out and let me handle this privately?”
Wrinkling her nose, she said, “I’d rather not.”
He sighed. “Got yourself all curious now, don’t you?”
About a woman who’d meant enough to Stack that he now hated his brother-in-law? She winced. “Yes?”
As if that somehow pleased him, Stack gave her a lingering look filled with heat—then turned his attention to Phil.
“C’mon, man.” Phil turned his face to the side, trying to dodge the brunt of Stack’s deadly glare. “You know she didn’t matter to you.”
“Not much, you’re right about that. But how I felt about her doesn’t excuse what you did. And the fact you’re married to my sister does matter because I care about her, a lot.”
“Tabby loves me.”
“Tabby is delusional, but she’s also an adult, so her decisions are her own. Fact remains, if you ever hurt her, I’ll take you apart and enjoy doing it.”
“I wouldn’t!”
“You’re a liar, a pothead and a cheat. You hurt her just by existing.”
Ouch, Vanity thought. That was brutal.
“I haven’t cheated,” Phil said, not bothering to deny the rest. “And everyone smokes—”
Bouncing his skull against the wall effectively cut off Phil’s confession. Stack crowded in. “I don’t believe a damn thing you say, so save it. If you’re smart, if you want me to keep ignoring you, I suggest you find a job, give up the dope that you fucking well can’t afford, and start giving my sister a little help. And that,” he emphasized, “is the last warning I’m giving you.”
“I’ve tried! Jobs are scarce, man. I’m not a hotshot fighter like you. I—”
“Take off,” Stack told him. “I don’t want to see you again today. And, trust me, you don’t want to see me either.”
“But Tabby—”
Anxious to end the contretemps, Vanity said, “I’ll tell her you had to go. No worries!”
Leaving Phil to slump against the wall, Stack held out a hand to Vanity. Why the gesture felt so significant, she couldn’t say, but she hustled to accept, to lace her fingers through his. His hand engulfed hers. Gently. Securely.
For a double heartbeat, Stack just stared down at her. Then, taking her by surprise, he brushed his mouth to hers. “C’mon, troublemaker.”
He said it affectionately, but still, she had to protest. “You’re accusing me?”
Stack snorted. “It’s too late to act all innocent now.”
Okay, so, yes, she’d deliberately provoked him in front of his mother and sister. And she had teased—with the truth!—about the hunks at the rec center. She considered debating it when, as they exited the room, Phil muttered low behind them, “Asshole.”
Vanity’s eyes flared, and she held her breath, but other than Stack smirking, nothing happened.
Relieved that he didn’t turn back around and annihilate the man, Vanity again leaned on his shoulder. She adored all of Stack, but, wow, his shoulders were especially nice. Perfect, in fact. He was so big and strong and tall, she knew leaning on him would never be a problem. It was a wonderful feeling, and she hugged herself to his biceps.
Still walking, Stack slanted his gaze down at her. “You are the oddest woman.”
“Hey.” That wasn’t even close to a compliment.
“It’s true.” He kissed her forehead. “I expected that whole scene to upset you.”
“Naw. Clearly you had it under control. And clearly f’ing Phil is a problem.”
He snorted. “That’s it, huh? All you’re going to say or do?”
“Well, what should I be doing? Crying? Fretting? You’re not, so why would I?”
“Cry, no.” He gave her a look. “But you know you’re dying to pry.”
“Mmm...maybe.” She couldn’t wait to get him back out of the damned dress shirt and pants. She wanted to glide her hands over all that sleek skin taut over pronounced muscles, to feel the roughness of his body hair on her palms, to touch him and kiss him everywhere. “I figured I’d wait for a moment of weakness. Better odds of getting the truth from you that way.”
Gently, he warned, “I don’t lie, Vanity.”
The way he said that gave her pause. Inching into unknown territory, she asked mildly, “The truth is important to you?”
His gaze sharpened. “Very important. I don’t tolerate lies.”
Had he been the victim of untruths before? Seemed likely, which meant her methods might enrage him, even possibly alienate him. With uncertainty denting her confidence, she chose to watch her feet instead of his face. “What about lies of omission?”
Though she didn’t look at him, his attention consumed her, and finally, unable to help herself, she glanced up and got caught.
He kept his tone soft, which somehow made it more unyielding. “What have you omitted?”
She wouldn’t compound things by saying, Nothing. That’d just be another lie. “Given the nature of our...liaison, there are many things you don’t yet know about me.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Like the fact you don’t cry?”
“Right.” Then she amended, “At least not without really good reason.” A fresh breath helped get her back on track. “Mostly I was worried about you telling me to butt out.”
“If I did, would you?”
Well, shoot. Time to be serious. Stepping in front of him, she got him to stop. “I know I can be pushy. I’m upfront about that. But I try really hard not to pry, and I promise I’m not a gossipy woman. I hope I’m not too nosy, just...interested. And I am a good listener, so if you ever want to talk...” She let that hang out there.
“That’s a hell of a list of accolades. No flaws at all, huh?”
She blushed.
He touched the wild pulse beating in her throat. “No need to sell yourself. Remember, I already bought in.”
How did he make that sound so sexy? “Good. So you’ll explain your conflict with Phil?”
“Forget Phil.” Stack leaned down and brushed his nose over her cheek, teasing a path to her ear. Once there, he whispered, “I want to fuck, not talk.”
Oh. Well... Yes to that. She cleared her throat, but it didn’t help loosen the sudden restriction of carnal need. “I want that, too, of course.”
“Of course.” He smiled lazily, and that smile further distracted her to the point she couldn’t think beyond the image of Stack naked and over her.
To help her along, he prompted, “You have something to add?”
Right, she did. But what was it? To give her brain cells a chance to regroup, she avoided Stack’s consuming gaze and instead stared at his chest. He’d left the snowy white dress shirt open enough that she could see his collarbone, and a hint of chest hair.
He tipped up her face. “Exhaustion is catching up to you.”
“No.” She released a tight breath. “I’m not tired.” Far from it.
“You keep losing your thoughts.”
Her mouth twitched. “Not really.” Going for total honesty, she admitted, “It’s just that I’m having a hard time thinking of anything other than you naked.”
“Ahem.”
They both turned to see Tabitha standing there, her grin enormous.
“I can’t believe I just heard that. And, oh, God, no, no.” She lightly pummeled her own forehead. “That image needs to go away right now.”
Stack laughed. “Did you want something, Tabby? Other than to cause a scene?”
True, passersby were giving her very odd looks, as if she might be a psych patient who escaped her confines.
Tabby glared at the curious people, but when she faced Vanity again, her cheek-splitting grin was back in place. “Not to break up this fascinating love-fest, but Mom is ready to go.”
“Right.” Stack swung an arm around Vanity, edging her back to his side. “Sorry about that. We got distracted.”
“Ha! You, brother dearest, stopped thinking with your head and started thinking with your—”
Planting a palm in her face, Stack quieted her.
Tabitha laughed and stepped out of reach. “Where’s Phil?”
“Gone,” Vanity said, trying to recover from being caught in the hospital hallway seducing Tabitha’s brother while his injured mother waited on them. Oh, Lord, that was bad. Bad-bad.
What kind of impression would she make on them? “I told him I’d let you know.”
Tabitha started back to her mother, assuming they’d follow. “That’s weird. Where was he going?”
Oh, crap. Vanity had no idea what to say to that. “Uh...”
Stack filled in. “He left because I told him to, and you know it.”
“Yeah.” Tabitha glared at Stack over her shoulder. “You’re always so mean to him.”
“He’s lucky I don’t—”
“I know, I know. You want to tear him limb from limb.” Tabitha waved off the possibility of such a dire consequence. “One of these days you two will get along.”
“No,” Stack assured her. “We won’t. But hopefully you’ll wise up and dump his sorry—”
“La, la-la, la,” Tabitha said, her fingers in her ears as she kept walking.
Stack grinned at her back.
Huh. Vanity looked from one to the other, and a warm, peaceful sort of contentment settled over her. The siblings understood each other and cared enough to tease their way through major disagreements. That was nice.
“Now what?” Stack asked her. “You’re getting melancholy.”
She huffed. “I’m not tired, not melancholy, not weak.”
He tugged on a lock of her hair. “God forbid you be human.”
“I was just thinking it would have been nice to have a brother or sister.”
Tabitha glanced at her. “You’re an only child? Oh, how tragic.”
Stack gave his sister a light shove. “Not everyone is saddled with a lunatic for a sibling. Nothing tragic in that.”
No, Vanity thought, not tragic. But there’d been so many times she would have given anything for a sibling. “Yes,” she answered Tabitha. “I was the only one.”
Which explained why she inherited everything from everyone in her family. If only they hadn’t all left her the same year. Not that they’d ever really been there anyway.
When they were, there’d been no teasing, no laughter.
And sadly, never enough love.
