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Dean snorted as he poured water into the well on the back of the brewer. “I’m the good-looking twin, remember?”
“That’s not what Jonas says,” Deanna shot right back.
Dean rolled his eyes. “His vote doesn’t count,” he said, scooping coffee grounds into the basket. “He’s biased.”
“Stop it, you two,” his mom said. “I swear, sometimes your bickering could drive me to drink.”
Deanna laughed. “But you love us anyway.”
Dean grabbed three mugs from the cupboard and sat them in the center o
f the table. He pulled out a chair, turned it around, and straddled it. He wasted no time getting to the point. “I can see you have something on your collective minds.” He looked at his mom, then his sister. “Might as well spit it out.”
“We came because we’re concerned about you, Dean,” his mother replied, her tone softening a measure. “You and Catherine both.”
Dean glared at his twin. “Big mouth.” At least Deanna had the good grace to blush. It was something, he supposed.
His mom reached over and patted the back of his hand. “Don’t be upset with your sister. She’s worried, that’s all.”
“About me? What the hell for?”
His mother frowned. “Watch your language.”
“Sorry,” he muttered. “But seriously, why are you two worried? I’m fine.”
“Not from what I can see, you aren’t,” his sister interrupted, unwilling to back off. Stubborn woman.
When the coffeemaker dinged, indicating it was finished, Dean stood to get it, welcoming the distraction. “Well, you don’t see everything, Dee,” he told her as he poured them each a cup.
“Have you decided to believe Catherine’s story?” she asked with a knowing look. Dean refused to answer. “That’s what I thought. So, you aren’t fine.”
He put the carafe back on the warming plate and leaned against the counter, leaving his mug on the table, untouched. “That topic is off-limits. Let it go.”
“Dean,” his mom said. “Have you considered that a good deal of your distrust of Catherine might stem from what happened between you and Linda? Not to mention the two losers before her who broke your heart.”
Of course he’d thought of it, but he didn’t want to get into that ugly can of worms with his mother, of all people. “Mom, that was all years ago. I’m over it.”
“You’re over them, that’s true, but are you over what those women did to you?”
“Yes,” he bit out, knowing it was the biggest lie of all. In his mind, Dean would always see that moment when he’d walked into the bedroom all prepared to propose marriage only to find Linda with another man.
His mom shook her head. “You care for Catherine, don’t you?”
He shrugged, not willing to discuss his feelings for Catherine with anyone but Catherine. Hell, he wasn’t even sure what they were. “I don’t know what I feel yet.” At least that was partly true.
“The truth, Dean.”
He’d forgotten how determined his mother could be. He felt like a little kid all over again. “Yes,” he admitted. “I’m beginning to care. The thought of her going back to Georgia has me in knots. Happy?”
His mother stood and walked toward him. She placed a hand on his shoulder. “I won’t be happy until you’re happy. I want all my kids happy. And holding on to this hate, Dean, keeping that wound fresh, isn’t healthy.”
Dean started to put two and two together. “Is this like an intervention or something?”
“Don’t get an attitude,” she said, chastising him as if he weren’t an adult. “We love you, and that’s the only reason we’re here.”
He held up both hands in surrender. What was a guy supposed to do when he went up against two strong-minded women? “I love you too,” he said, meaning it. “And I get the message, loud and clear. But I’m a big kid and I need to deal with this in my way. Okay?”
Deanna moved up beside him, adding her own weight to their mother. “Talk to Catherine,” she demanded. “Tell her how you feel. If you don’t you could lose her, Dean.”
