Windfall Page 0,63

asked. I nearly fumbled my fork. "On the phone."

"Oh." I stabbed a tomato wedge. The silverware felt strange and heavy, and when I looked it over, it was as unfamiliar as the plates. My total of debts to repay, whether karmic or Mastercard, was getting pretty hefty. "Yes. He was a little sick, but he's feeling better."

"Sarah told me that he's a musician?" Eamon asked, and applied a little black pepper to his salad. Which was not at all a bad idea. I followed suit.

"A singer," I said. Which would explain, should it ever come up, the lack of gear to haul around. "He's with a band."

"Have I heard of them?"

"Probably not."

Eamon was too polite to try to work around that roadblock; he turned his attention back to Sarah, who practically combusted under the force of it. He did have a lovely smile, I had to admit. "I did enjoy the day, Sarah. I had no idea Fort Lauderdale had so much to offer."

"It was educational," she said, but there was color high in her cheeks, and a sparkle in her eyes, and I wondered if the wonders of Fort Lauderdale had been the standard tourist attractions or something a good deal less family-friendly that featured a tour of the backseat of Eamon's rental car. "Thank you for everything. It was lovely, really. Dinner was the least I could do."

"Careful," Eamon said, and his voice had dropped into a range I could really only classify as a purr. "You feed me like this, I might never leave." His eyes were luminous, watching her. As if she were the only thing in the world.

She winked at him.

I began to remember how I'd felt back in high school, watching my accomplished, polished older sister devastate the boys with a flick of her perfectly manicured fingers. Oh, yeah, this was that feeling. Like being the dumpy training wheels on the bicycle of love. I wondered if I should take my salad and go eat it in my room, with Rahel, who would make me feel like a particularly nasty insect but at least wasn't going to be beating me on social graces.

"Get a room," I said, and shoveled in a mouthful of greens. Sarah sent me a shocked look. Yep, we were right back to high school. Sarah the martyr, Jo the brat, poor Eamon caught in the middle.

Except Eamon was no hormonally overbalanced teenager, and he just smiled and reached across the table to pour my sister another half glass of wine.

"Actually," he said, "I like this room perfectly well."

The salad course mercifully ended before I could make more of an ass out of myself, and Sarah served pasta. She and Eamon flirted. I tried to look as if I didn't notice. It was uncomfortable. My sister's chicken primavera was unbelievably delicious, but I shoveled it in with reckless disregard for either manners or culinary appreciation. Sarah, naturally, ate about a third of her plate and pronounced herself full. Eamon came around to help her clear the table, shirtsleeves rolled up to reveal elegantly long-boned forearms, and brushed past her close enough to qualify as courtship in quite a few parts of the world. As they were standing at the sink together, I watched their body language. His was... comfortable. Proprietary. In her space, drawn to her by gravity. Over the rushing water, I caught snatches of their conversation. I sipped wine and watched him lean closer, put his face close to her neck, and draw in a deep breath. It was amazingly sensuous.

"Bulgari's Omnia," he said, in that lovely voice, so precise and warm.

"You know perfumes?" Sarah asked, startled, and turned her head to look at him.

He was over her shoulder, close enough to kiss. Neither of them moved away.

"A bit," he said. "I had some training in chemistry; perfumes were always interesting to me. Omnia has a black pepper base, you know."

"Really?" She dried her hands on a towel and turned to face him. "What else?"

"Is there any dessert?"

She blinked at the change of subject, but moved aside and uncovered a pan of perfect little tarts, pale with a browned crust on top. Crcme brul�e. Dear God.

I didn't even own one of those fancy little blowtorches, did I? Well, apparently, I did now. Along with a double boiler.

Eamon made a sound in the back of his throat