weddings. A single comment was too many in Aiden’s book.
“Something like that,” he mumbled. “So, what about you? Any men in your life?”
His quick rejoinder didn’t fool her, but she went with it. “You know I don’t have time for a guy.”
He nailed her with a dead-on serious look. “But you have to have time. You know this, Jac.”
Her stomach dropped away with her heart. Damn him. She swallowed, clamping down on the ache that swelled up her throat. She scrubbed at the pan, water splashing down the front of her shirt to irritate her more. Who was he to push her when he was a dedicated commitment-phobe?
“Sorry.” He laid a hand on her shoulder and waited until she stopped attacking the helpless pan. She gulped in a breath, squeezed her eyes closed and tried to bury the flash of bitter hurt.
She didn’t resist when he eased her around and folded her into a hug. “I’m sorry,” he said into her hair, arms tightening. She reluctantly wrapped her arms around his waist and inhaled his solid presence. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“At least you talk about it,” she mumbled into his chest. The rest of her family ran on the belief that talking about anything to do with her cancer would bring it back. Again. The third time being the one she wouldn’t conquer. And December was looming, the weight of her yearly tests coupled with her eight-year remission anniversary hanging over them.
“But you don’t need me to push you.”
“If you don’t, who will?” She stepped back, a wan smile covering the hurt that lingered in her heart. Being reminded of the ticking clock on her compromised reproductive system always stirred up the residual anger that lingered. Life had knocked her around, but she wasn’t out. She couldn’t forget that.
“Hey.” He nudged her chin up until she was forced to meet his eyes. “I’m your buddy in this, remember?” He tapped her chest where her chemo port scar was hidden beneath her shirt. “You can always talk to me about it.”
Her phone vibrated again, and she used it as an excuse to move away—and change the subject. There were two texts waiting from Henrik.
Does the Blue Grill work for lunch?
You’re not backing out on me, are you?
And here was the timely reminder she needed. Her soft laugh puffed out before she remembered her brother was watching her.
“I know that smile,” Aiden teased. “You do have a hot date, don’t you?” He poked at her ribs until she ducked away, giggling. She’d always been ticklish, and he knew exactly where her most sensitive spots were. “Who is it?”
“Stop.” She spun away, gasping for air as she shoved at his hands.
He swiped his hair back, grinning like a fool. “Aw. Come on. I can keep a secret.”
“It’s nothing,” she insisted, holding her cell phone out of reach when he made a grab for it. “Aiden,” she shrieked when he lunged for her again.
“Aiden James!”
The sharp reprimand from their mother had them both freezing. Jacqui’s eyes went wide and her lips clamped closed to hold in her laugh. They might be adults, but their mother still ruled the house. One call from the other room, and the guilt hit them like caught kids.
“You too, Jacqui Ann. I know you’re not innocent, whatever’s going on.”
Aiden pointed at her, head bobbing. She smacked his finger away.
“And there’d better not be a mess in there when you’re done.”
“Yes, Mom,” they singsonged in unison.
Jacqui cracked a wide smile and shoved around Aiden to reach the sink. She set her phone on the window ledge and flicked water at Aiden for good measure.
“Hey.” He wiped the water off his face and scowled back at her. “Mom said to behave.”
“I wasn’t the one causing trouble.”
“Bull crap. You were usually the cause, only us boys took the blame.”
There was truth to that, so she couldn’t disagree. After she’d been diagnosed with leukemia for the first time when she was five, all four of her older brothers had become her defenders. She’d had a pretty charmed—if a bit sheltered and claustrophobic—childhood.
If you didn’t count the cancer.
“So.” He nudged her. “Who was the text from?”
Persistent, overbearing, nosy...brothers. Her sigh was heavy with love and annoyance. “Just someone I met.” A very hot, gruff, a bit bumbling someone who’d been stuck in her head for days.
“Oh? Someone or a guy?”
“A guy is someone.”
“So it is a guy.” His excitement was entirely too over-the-top.
She rolled her eyes, faking her exasperation. “Will you ever grow