Resisting the urge to scream in frustration, I ask through clenched teeth, “Why the hell did Trevor send you my flight information?”
“Because he knows what it’s like to be a protective older brother. And I asked him for it.”
“Why did you ask him for it? You just told me you can’t go.”
“Don’t be so suspicious. If Trevor isn’t going with you—”
“I do not even believe this patriarchal bullshit you’re pulling. I’m a grown-ass, independent woman. And instead of asking me for my travel information, you reached out to Trevor? Who is sick with the mumps and should probably rest, anyway?”
“Stop with the feminist rant. It’s not about you being incompetent. It’s about how busy you are. Last year, when you moved into that new condo, it was six months before you texted me your new mailing address.”
Somehow, my asshole of a brother distracted me from the fact that it’s irrelevant how or why he got my travel details. For some no doubt nefarious reasons of his own, he’s trying to force poor Nick into going to Belize with me.
I jab a finger in Remy’s direction. “You stay out of this.” I look back at Nick and offer him a conciliatory smile. “You don’t need to come with me to Belize.”
“I don’t mind—”
“But I do.” I don’t give him a chance to finish whatever thought he’s going to speak aloud. I don’t need excuses anymore than I need pity. Especially not now. Especially not from a guy like Nick. “Look, I know how little leave you get each year. I know how much you need this break. I’m not gonna drag you off to Belize for a boring corporate vacation when you could be off doing something you’d actually enjoy. End of debate.”
Nick just looks at me, his lips curving into a smile in a way that makes me think I haven’t actually ended the debate at all. “Are those your closing arguments?”
“Yes,” I say, mastering the courage of a seasoned litigation lawyer. Which, for the record, I’m not. Intellectual property law is not the kind of thing you settled in court. Despite what Ally McBeal would have you believe.
“Permission to approach the bench.”
“You’re mixing your metaphors, sailor.”
“Maybe I like mixing my metaphors.”
I roll my eyes. “Trust me, when I tell you I don’t need you to come with me to Belize. I will be fine all on my own.”
I stand and grab my purse from the back of the chair. Then round the table and lean down to brush a kiss on Remy’s cheek. “Sorry I can’t stay longer.”
“You’re not leaving already, are you? You just got here.”
“I have to be at work in the morning. I told you this would be a short visit. If you’re still in Saddle Creek when I get back from Belize, I’ll come visit you then.”
I ruffle Remy’s hair, because even though I’m the youngest in the family, when you’re the only girl, and your parents own a restaurant and therefore work really long hours, you do a lot of mothering, even to your older brothers.
I glance at Nick and flash him a smile. “Nice to finally meet you.”
As I walk out of Aces, I try not to be too sad that the visit was so short. It’s even harder to pretend that unexpectedly meeting Nick for the first time didn’t leave me shaken.
What was Remy thinking, bringing him without giving me a heads up?
What was Nick thinking? Why didn’t he mention to me he was coming? We exchange emails and other messages a couple of times a week. He could have told me.
Instead, he just showed up.
Which just made this shit show of a day that much more shittier.
Not that meeting Nick in person was bad.
It was just… unexpected.
And, yeah. Shitty. Because all this time I’ve been telling myself that Nick was just like some third brother my parents had adopted. Now that I’ve met him in person, I can’t fool myself anymore.
Nick isn’t my brother. He’s a hot AF man. And that swagger of his is not the kind of thing I can unsee.
