for someone to punch,” Ryan explained. “What’s that about?”
Sean couldn’t quite manage a smile, but he forced a neutral expression. “Sorry. I was in a bad place.”
“I could see that. Want to talk about it?”
“No time. I’m on my way out,” he said, hoping to forestall a cross-examination on his mood.
“Then I won’t keep you long,” Ryan said, ignoring the lack of invitation and stepping inside the apartment. “Where are you off to, anyway?”
Sean studied his brother intently. There was still a certain wariness between them. After so many years apart, it wasn’t as if they could just pick up the brotherhood bit where they’d left off as kids. They’d made some progress, but there was still some natural uneasiness over revealing too much, taking too much for granted based on their closeness as kids. A lot of water—a lot of anger—had passed under the bridge since the old days.
Maybe, though, this was the perfect opportunity for another round of long-delayed bonding.
“I’m helping a friend paint an apartment,” he told Ryan as he led the way into his cramped kitchen. Since Ryan wasn’t going anywhere till he’d said his piece about whatever had brought him by, they might as well be comfortable.
“The coffee’s still warm,” Sean said, after testing the pot. “Want some?”
“Sure.”
Sean poured two cups, handed one to Ryan, then straddled a chair, waiting for his brother to explain what he was doing there. When Ryan remained quiet, Sean found himself filling the silence. “You know,” he began, feeling awkward about asking Ryan for anything. “If you’ve got the time this morning, we could always use another pair of hands. It’s no big deal if you can’t, but I thought it might be fun to hang out for a while.”
“I’ve got a couple of hours to spare,” Ryan said at once, seizing on the invitation as the peace offering it had been intended to be. “Who’s the friend?”
“Deanna Blackwell.”
Ryan studied him curiously. “Girlfriend?”
Sean debated how to answer that. He supposed that was as close a description as any, but he didn’t want to admit to it and then listen to the barrage of questions that was sure to follow. He opted for evasion. “Not exactly,” he murmured.
His brother grinned. “Maybe I can help you clarify that. How is she paying you back for recruiting a painting crew?”
“Not like that,” Sean protested. “She’s just a friend, who happens to be a woman.” And whose kisses could melt a steel girder.
“Sure.” Ryan’s expression was doubtful.
“She is.”
“Whatever you say, bro.”
Determined to change the subject before Ryan got him to say more than he intended about his relationship with Deanna, Sean asked, “Okay, other than hassling me, what brought you by this morning?”
Ryan seemed to debate whether to let him get away with the obvious ploy, then finally said, “I wanted to let you know I have a lead on Michael.”
Sean swallowed hard at the news. The search for the rest of their family was Ryan’s idea. Sean was less enthusiastic. Every time he thought of the family he’d lost, he wanted to start breaking things. He hated what his parents had put them through. He tried never to think about them, or about the brothers he hadn’t seen since first grade.
But he couldn’t deny that since meeting Deanna, he’d been thinking a lot more about the meaning of family. He was a little more open to the possibility of discovering answers to all the questions that had haunted him through the years.
“You know where Michael is?” he asked, his chest tight.
Ryan shook his head. “Not exactly. He’s apparently in the Navy, but when I try to find out where he’s stationed, I keep hitting a brick wall.”
Sean suddenly recalled the four-year-old who’d trailed after him and Ryan, eager to do anything they’d let him do just to be around them. The image was so vivid it nearly made his heart stop. Something about that early case of hero worship had stuck with him. It was the last time anyone had looked up to him…at least until he’d become a firefighter. Maybe that need to be somebody’s hero was even one of the reasons he’d chosen the dangerous profession in the first place.
Every once in a while when he saw the way Kevin looked at him, it reminded him of the way Michael had once looked up to his two big brothers. Brothers, who, when things got tough, hadn’t been able to do anything to make them better. Maybe it hadn’t been their