“Sounds selfish,” Jake said.
He shrugged. “Maybe, but I don’t think it’s selfish to spend time building a strong foundation with the woman who you’re going to spend the rest of your life with.”
The noise on the TV rose then, the crowd screaming as someone from the Gold scored, but Jaime didn’t look away from Kate’s brother.
Their gazes clashed—suspicion, irritation, frustration in Jake’s, but Jaime held firm. If this fake engagement was going to turn into something more, then this was something he would need to overcome.
“How’d you know that sunflowers are Mary’s favorite?” Harry asked, drawing Jaime’s focus by referring to the bouquet he’d had stashed in the back seat and had given to Marabelle in the ten seconds he’d had before he’d been dispersed into the living room from hell.
“I didn’t,” he admitted. “But I know they’re Kate’s, and so I hoped that she would like them, too.”
“And the whiskey?”
“My favorite,” he said, “and my mom raised me to never come to a house empty-handed.”
“Hmm.” He turned his eyes back to the TV, and Jaime followed his gaze in time to see Liam Williamson make a move that even in slow motion was fast enough that he had to concentrate to see it.
He whistled. “Damn, he’s good.”
A beat, the tension hanging in the room for one more long moment then Harry chuckled and shook his head. “He’s something else, that’s for sure. Didn’t think he’d be here for long, but he’s certainly carved a niche out for himself here.”
“Yeah,” he said, “it was smart of them to put him with Coop and Blue. Their line has been almost unstoppable this season.”
Feeling Jake’s gaze on him, Jaime turned to face Kate’s brother.
“You watch other sports?” Jake asked.
Jaime shrugged. “A little basketball and football, but I prefer hockey.”
A glimmer of approval on the other man’s face before he turned back to the game. “What do you think of Plantain this season?”
“Still recovering from that shoulder injury, but I’ll bet she’ll be back up to full strength before the playoffs,” he said.
More quiet, but this silence—punctuated by the noise of the game playing in the background—wasn’t homicidal, having him contemplating those power tools, or tense, two sets of eyes glaring. Instead, it had that glimmer of approval transforming into something more.
Not quite endorsement.
But he didn’t think they’d be going to get the saw.
Good enough.
Eight
Kate
She was sweating as she arranged the bouquet of sunflowers Jaime had given to her mom—gorgeous, beautiful sunflowers that made her smile and want to steal them home for herself.
But the perspiration wasn’t from the flowers.
It was because Jaime was confined in the other room with her brother and father, and based on the glares she’d seen when she’d walked by the space, it wasn’t going to be a kumbaya moment.
They were going to rake the man who was doing her a favor, who was bailing her out, over the coals.
Fuck. She hadn’t thought that through.
Frankly, she hadn’t thought a lot of things through.
The ring. Her family—though her mom hadn’t cared that she hadn’t met Jaime because her oldest and perpetually single daughter was “engaged!!” (and yes, two exclamations were worthy of her mom’s excitement). But she hadn’t factored in the protectiveness of her brother and father, and how they’d always done the whole “you’d better take care of her, or you’ll have me to answer to” thing.
That wasn’t her favorite.
She could take care of herself.
But she appreciated that they loved her enough to worry, so while their protection had sometimes chaffed and often annoyed, she’d grown to accept it, oldest sibling who should be the one to be looking after the younger ones, or not.
Men being men.
Barf.
But also, it came from a good place. They wanted her safe and happy, and she couldn’t deny that she’d also given Ann’s then boyfriend now husband and Jake’s wife the same narrow-eyed glare that her brother had been giving Jaime when she’d peeked in.
Ann was protective in a different way than she and Jake.
She’d be watching closely, cataloging, and be ready to step in the moment Jaime treated her the least bit wrong.
Her family might be annoying and nosy, but they also loved each other.
Plus, their nosiness meant that she got to be nosy right back, especially when it came to the dark circles under her sister’s eyes.
“Did you talk to Dave?” she asked, forcing her gaze away from the living room and focusing on her sister. Who looked absolutely exhausted, and not just the typical post-baby exhaustion, but something more, something deeper.
Her sister sighed. “I tried. I don’t know what’s going on with him. He doesn’t seem to hear me, and then when he does listen, he promises to do better, to help more.”
“Then he doesn’t?”
“No,” Ann said. “He does, but then he disappears into his own head again a-and—” She broke off, blue eyes swimming with tears.
“Come here,” Kate said, wrapping an arm around her sister’s waist and leading her from the room.
“The baby—”
“Mom’s got her.”
And their mom did. She was currently walking baby Lacy around the kitchen, telling her all about the colorful Christmas decorations. There was no way the two-month-old could understand her, let alone even see everything her mom pointed out, but Lacy was enraptured by her mom’s musical voice anyway.
Kate smiled, thinking about all the times her mom had just talked to her, used her gentle, lyrical voice to talk her out of a tantrum, or off the edge of an argument with her best friend during her preteen years, or even helping her through a work problem.
She loved talking to her.
Minus the whole she-needed-to-be-in-a-relationship-or-her-womb-was-going-to-dry-up nonsense that had filled so many of their most recent conversations.
But now she had Jaime and hadn’t heard about the doctor or so-and-so’s cousin or anything about biological clocks.
It was glorious.
A lie.
She bit her lip, pushed the guilt away. So maybe it was a glorious lie, but she also had more to worry about in that moment than herself and the mess she’d made and the longing she felt growing with every minute she spent with Jaime.
For now, she needed to focus on her sister.
Keeping her arm around Ann, she snagged a blanket from the rack her mom kept by the back door and led them out onto the porch.
There were plenty of chairs around for them to sit in, but she didn’t bother with that, instead walking Ann over to the top step, sitting her down, plunking down next to her, and then wrapping the blanket around them both. Picking up the thread of conversation, she said, “You say he disappears into his own head. How so?”
Ann’s gaze was on the horizon, and it stayed that way for a long moment before she spoke. “It’s like I’m talking to him and he’s saying all of the right things, but he’s not really there.” She turned, eyes going to Kate’s. “I feel so alone.”