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“There is so a deal.” Holt gave me a pointed look. “You like her more than she likes you. I do believe that’s a first.”
“Where’s Dad so you can give him a hard time instead?” I stopped playing with my drink and picked it up, a large swallow sliding down my throat.
“Down at that shelter.” He shook his finger a few times, a look of consternation on his face. “What’s it called again?”
“Paths of Purpose,” I answered too quickly.
Holt grinned wolfishly. “Maybe you should get down there and volunteer too. Sounds like angel face is pretty involved.”
I hope that chair turns over.
“What about Baker? You two were pretty chummy at dinner. Should we go volunteer together?”
“Who? Miss Easy On The Eyes?” He popped his chair back down to all fours, drinking beer in the process.
“Please tell me you didn’t call her that to her face.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” He shrugged. “She liked it.”
“Did Dad teach you that?”
Holt snorted and picked at the edge of the label on his bottle. “Nah. The old man has some smooth moves, but I’m selective about the advice I take from him.”
We both burst into laughter. “Bet you anything he lands Mrs. Quinn before either of us have a chance with Trish and Baker.”
“I’m not looking for a chance with Baker.” He slouched in his seat, which barely contained his big body. My brother had a casual, easy way about him. He always had, even before he moved to Wyoming, though he seemed even more laid-back now.
“Then what are you doing? Surprise visits aren’t really your style.”
He looked uncomfortable for a flash of a second before he met my eyes. “Needed a change of scenery.” Suddenly, peeling that beer label had become much more interesting. He already had it halfway off.
“Things okay at work?”
He straightened a little. “Yeah. Same old government bullshit, but I’m used to it.”
“Old Faithful not shooting off like she’s supposed to?”
That got me a laugh. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Do what?”
“Act like you care.”
I paused, lifting my glass to my lips but set it back on the coaster. “I do care. You’re my brother, and I hardly ever see you. Forgive me for wanting to know what’s going on in your life.”
He winced, darting his eyes away, reminding me of when he was a kid. I was a lot older than he was, and he’d annoyed me when we were growing up. But I’d aggravated him too. That was what siblings did. It didn’t mean I didn’t care.
“You and Dad and Marlow were always tight knit. Sometimes it seemed like I was in the way.”
Oh God.
“Did we make you feel that way? Because I assure you that wasn’t the case.”
“No. No. But after I came along, Mom left and . . .” he trailed off and shrugged.
“That had nothing to do with you,” I growled, tempted to reach across the table and shake him.
“You sure about that?” Something flashed across his face that gave me pause.
