had clamoured for kisses and hugs from her. He’d gritted his teeth when one brother had swung her around—stitches, dammit!—before passing her like a pretty parcel to the next brother, who’d repeated the process.
Luke shook his head. Jess had never, not for one moment, doubted that she was loved...
This was the type of family he’d have sold his soul for as a child and teenager. If he could have ordered it this was what it would have looked like. Siblings, laughter, teasing, loud conversation.
‘Quiet down, everyone...’
Luke turned his attention to Jess’s dad as the conversation died down. David Sherwood lifted his wine glass. ‘I’d like to thank Luke for opening up his house to our craziness, and fervently hope he doesn’t regret it.’ David narrowed his eyes and they bounced from one child to another. Jess, Luke noticed, wasn’t left out. ‘And that means no rough-housing amongst the furniture, no sliding down banisters, no flour bombs from the upstairs windows.’
Luke leaned towards Nick, who was sitting to his right. ‘He’s talking to the kids, right?’
Nick’s grey eyes laughed. ‘Unfortunately, no. My brothers and my sister can be quite wild on occasion.’
Luke grinned. ‘And you’re not?’
‘I just don’t get caught,’ Nick replied with a chuckle.
‘Anyway, thank you, Luke, for allowing us to be together this weekend.’ David lifted his glass and when the cheers died down continued to speak. ‘By the way, I knew your mother.’
Luke saw Jess’s hand jerk her father’s arm and he caught her eye. Sending her a reassuring glance and the slightest shake of his head, he silently told her that he wanted to hear about his mother. God, he knew nothing about her—of course he wanted to hear about her.
‘Really? How did you know her?’ Luke was quite impressed that his voice sounded vaguely normal.
‘We went to art school together in Cape Town. I think I was half in love with Katelyn.’
‘You were half in love with everyone at uni,’ his wife said crisply. ‘Katelyn...Katelyn Kirby? I remember her. Long hair, green, green eyes. Your eyes.’ Liza leaned across Nick to touch his hand quickly with the tips of her fingers. ‘I’m sorry you lost her so young, Luke.’
Such simple, sincere words. It almost made him want to tell her that he hadn’t lost her, she’d already gone...
‘I remember going to her older sister’s cottage, near Lambert’s Bay. The sister raised her—she was a professor of archaeology at UCT, often away on digs.’
David took a sip of wine and Luke swallowed. God, he had an aunt. How...? Why...? He’d never known he had an aunt.
Not that it mattered after so much time, he had no intention of tracking her down but...wow, he had an aunt.
‘I loved her work. Adored her work,’ David rambled on. ‘She was destined for great things. Then there was Greg Prescott...’
‘And Dad’s off and running,’ Nick muttered. ‘Heaven help us. He’s going to give us a dissertation on every artist he ever knew.’
‘Distract him—quick!’ Luke heard another brother—John—hiss.
Patrick jumped in and spoke over his father. ‘So, when are we going to settle our bet, Shrimp?’
Luke’s head snapped up. Bet? What bet?
‘We have time this weekend. We can find a five- kilometre route and settle this once and for all,’ Patrick goaded Jess.
‘Oh, goodie.’ Liza clapped her hands. ‘I’m sick of dripping taps.’
Luke saw Jess wince. What was going on?
When Jess didn’t speak, Patrick leaned across the table and got in her face. ‘Chicken, Jess? Are you being a girl?’
‘I am a girl, frog-face.’
Luke saw stubbornness creep into her expression. He looked at Nick again. ‘Want to explain what the bet is?’
‘Who can run a quicker five-k.’
‘Me,’ Jess and Patrick chimed in unison.
Luke poured wine into his glass and took a sip before pinning Jess with a look. ‘No.’ He saw the protest start to form on her lips and knew that her instinctive reaction was to baulk. ‘Not negotiable, sweetheart,’ he added in his firmest voice.
Jess held his glare for a long minute before muttering mutinously, ‘I’ll be fine.’
‘Ten.’ Luke held up both his hands. He knew that she didn’t want her family to know that she’d had stitches in her leg, that she didn’t want them fussing over her—especially the two doctors—so he’d agreed to keep her secret. But not if she was thinking about racing her brother over five kilometres.
He saw Jess’s lips move in a silent curse and hid his smile when she finally looked at Patrick. ‘Not this weekend, slowpoke. I’m still a bit sore from my fall.’
Patrick