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“Fine, I guess,” I said as I turned and paced in front of the windows in my condo.
It was spring in DC, and the cherry trees were in bloom. This was one of my favorite times of the year here, yet it felt as if all I could do was pace back and forth in front of the windows and make worried calls to my brother.
“You sound stressed,” Dallas replied. “Just be patient. They gave me a full update on this, and it's a solid case. Once they tie up a few more loose ends, you'll be able to stop feeling like you're keeping it to yourself. I gotta give it to you; you've handled it really well.”
“It doesn't fucking feel like it,” I muttered. “I don't even know how you and Noah do your jobs.”
Dallas’s laugh was dry. “You get used to it. Also, it's easier to hold on to information when it's not personal. You're the whistleblower in this situation, not the investigator. You also personally know the people implicated. I'm really proud of you.”
Although I knew my brothers didn’t think much of it, I was the youngest brother and the only one who didn't go into the FBI. Sometimes, I felt like the least responsible of the bunch even though I’d been the one to rebuild our family’s decimated finances in the aftermath of our father’s crimes. It meant a lot to have Dallas say he was proud of me.
Because he was apparently a fucking mind reader as well, he added, “And you know we're all grateful for what you did and still do since we lost most everything.”
“Thanks, man,” I said gruffly.
“How are things with Jane?” He deftly changed the subject.
My lips automatically curled into a smile because everything with Jane was good. Except for one thing—my stress with work and this stupid investigation. I didn't mention that to Dallas.
“We’re good. She'll be down this weekend.”
“Are you stressing out because you can't tell her what's going on with work?”
“Yeah, I don't like keeping this a secret. My work schedule has been fucking hell because of it. I’ve been trying to work around and rebuild the business outside of the consortium without anybody picking up on what I'm doing, but it's stressful. I want to tell her because she means a lot to me.”
“You sound like a man in love,” Dallas said so matter-of-factly my heart lurched unsteadily in my chest.
“Wh-What?” I sputtered.
“Just what I said. Does that freak you out?”
“Hell, yeah, that freaks me out.”
Dallas laughed lightly. “You'll be fine. I think Jane is good for you.”
“Really? Actually, I don't even know why I'm asking that,” I corrected. “I know she’s good for me.”
“Then why are you freaked out about me saying you sound like you're in love?” he asked pointedly.
I shifted my shoulders uncomfortably and finally stopped my pacing. I adjusted one of my loose earbuds as I replied, “I don't know. I didn't expect any of this. I sure as hell didn't expect things to get serious.”
“Is there a problem with things getting serious?” my brother pressed.
“Uh, no. It’s just she's in Boston, and I'm here. I don't know…” My words trailed off, and I didn't like the discomfort around this. Sometimes, I had a hard time believing how fast this had happened with her.
It had been four months, and we'd spent all but a few weekends together. Now, I was counting down the minutes—literally glancing at my phone, the clock on the wall, and my watch repeatedly—as I waited for when I could go meet her at the train station.
“Maybe you should stop thinking so hard about it,” Dallas offered.
“Ya think?” I teased lightly.
“Yeah, overthinking feelings isn't really helpful.”
“Are you an expert now?”
“I don’t know if I’m an expert, but more than you, I suppose.”
“Damn straight. You're married, you’ve got a kid, and you're happy. I'm really happy for you. I'm happy for Noah too.”
