I swallowed the wine in my glass in a single gulp, wanting to say something. My mind raced with options, all of which sounded insincere and contrived. In the end what came out was, “The chopsticks have a large target. Ups your chances.”
Ireland turned her head toward me, revealing the same blue eyes I saw in the mirror every day. They were much less guarded, far more innocent, and bright with laughter and adoration. “Did you just call me a big mouth?”
Unable to resist, I ran my hand over the crown of her head, touching the silky soft strands of her hair. Those, too, were like mine and yet not. “Not my words,” I said.
“Not in so many words,” she corrected, leaning briefly into my touch before turning back to Eva.
Eva glanced up at me, offering an encouraging smile. She knew I drew strength from her, and she gave it unconditionally.
My throat tight, I rose from the couch and grabbed Eva’s empty wineglass. Ireland’s glass of soda was still half full, so I left it and headed to the kitchen, trying to regain enough equanimity to make it through the rest of the evening.
“Channing Tatum is so hot,” Ireland said, her voice traveling from the living room. “Don’t you think?”
I frowned. My baby sister’s idle question triggered uncomfortable thoughts of her dating. She had to have started a few years ago—she was seventeen. I knew it was unrealistic to want her to stay away from boys. I knew it was my fault that I’d missed so much of her childhood. But the thought of her having to deal with younger versions of men like me and Manuel and Cary roused an unfamiliar defensive reaction.
“He’s very good-looking,” Eva agreed.
Possessiveness rose to join the mix. My gaze narrowed on the two glasses in front of me as I refilled them.
“He’s this year’s Sexiest Man Alive,” Ireland said. “Look at those biceps.”
“Ah, now on that, I have to totally disagree. Gideon is way sexier.”
My mouth curved.
“You’re such a goner,” my sister teased. “Your pupils turn into little hearts when you think about Gideon. It’s so cute.”
“Shut up.”
Ireland’s musical laugh floated through the air. “Don’t worry. He’s goofy over you, too. And he’s been on every Sexiest Man Alive list for ages. I never hear the end of it from my friends.”
“Gah. Don’t tell me stuff like that. I’m jealous by nature.”
Laughing inwardly, I dropped the empty bottle into the recycling bin.
“So is Gideon. He’s going to flip out when you start hitting the Hottest Women Alive lists. No way to avoid it now that everyone’s heard of you.”
“Whatever,” Eva scoffed. “They’d have to Photoshop fifteen pounds off my ass and thighs to sell that.”
“Um, have you seen Kim Kardashian? Or Jennifer Lopez?”
I paused on the threshold of the living room, taking in the picture Ireland and Eva made over the rim of my glass. An ache bloomed in my chest. I wanted to freeze the moment, protect it, keep it safe forever.
Ireland looked up and spotted me, then rolled her eyes. “What did I tell you?” she said. “Goofy.”
—
SITTING back in my chair, I sipped coffee and studied the spreadsheet on my monitor. I rolled my shoulders back, trying to loosen the kink in my neck.
“Dude. What the hell? It’s three in the morning.”
I looked up to find Ireland standing in the doorway to my home office. “Your point?”
“Why are you working so late?”
“Why are you Skyping so late?” I countered, having heard her laughter and occasionally raised voice over the last hour or so since I’d left Eva sleeping.
“Whatev,” she muttered, coming in and dropping into one of the chairs in front of my desk. She slouched, her shoulders even with the chair back and her legs sprawled out in front of her. “Can’t sleep?”