Page 30

He chuckles. “Business must be good.”

“It is,” I say, and Leo opens his mouth to say something else, but my brother beats him to the punch.

“It’s probably because Mom tells anyone who breathes about The Hole Story,” Nico says with a cheeky grin. “Pretty sure half of Nashville thinks Teeny invented bagels.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” I say, and his grin grows.

“You should. The Hole Story is fantastic.”

“Well, thanks. But maybe Mom wouldn’t have to talk so much about The Hole Story if you’d actually bring one of the many women you date home to meet the parents.”

“Oh, c’mon, Teeny. You know I’m discreet.” Nico smirks. “Can’t ruin the mystery.”

“I think that’s the wrong adjective for what you are.” Since puberty, my big brother has always been a bit of a ladies’ man. He’s always got a new girlfriend, whom he never introduces to us, and the relationship generally fizzles out after a few weeks—right as a new girl catches his eye.

He chuckles. “And what’s the right adjective?”

“I’ll let you fill in the blanks,” I retort cheekily. “Those aren’t the kinds of words a demure lady uses.” He snorts, and I bear down. Now that I’m on a roll, I can’t stop. “You know, it’s all a bit hypocritical if you ask me.”

“Hypocritical?”

I nod. “When it comes to you, there’s no woman that’s off limits. But for me, no man is good enough. Trash, Teeny, they’re all trash,” I mock.

“Because they are,” he replies.

“You’re a man. Are you trash?”

His eyes narrow. “I know how men think.”

I snort. “So, you get to date whoever you want, but you think I should stay single for the rest of my life?”

“Seems safest.” Nico leans back, draping an arm across his chair. “You shouldn’t waste your time on scum. You’re too good for that.”

“I disagree with your brother, sweetheart,” Dad jumps in, having just hung up the phone with a shipping manager. He takes phone calls like they’re going out of style, so none of us even blink when the phone hits his ear anymore. “I think you deserve to find a good, strong man. Someone who keeps you safe.”

Of course, his eyes flick to Leo, and I feel heat crawl up my neck when Leo starts smiling.

“Dad . . .”

“What?” he questions, acting like he’s completely innocent. “You deserve someone solid. Reliable. Someone who shows up.”

Nico’s fork clinks against his plate—loud enough to make Dad pause. Then, very calmly, Nico says, “She already has someone who shows up.”

Dad looks at him. Leo looks at him. I look at him.

We’re all wondering the same thing. Who?

Nico shrugs one shoulder, like the math of the statement is obvious. “Her family. Me. We handle it.”

The message beneath the words? Leo, take your shot somewhere else. Do not pass go, do not collect my sister.

Dad squints at him, amused. “Of course, son. Family’s family, I know that. But I didn’t say she needed a bodyguard. I said she needed some love.”

Nico tears a piece of bread and mutters under his breath, “More like a handler.”

Leo’s smile drops for a split second, and my father sighs in a heavily disapproving tone.

“I didn’t say handler, Nico. Watch it, son.”