Nick removed the wrapping and raised his roast beef sandwich to his mouth. “Tell her you don’t want her here.”
Luke sent his friend a level look. “I can’t do that again, Nick. You know that. I have a history of telling Cat she’s not wanted. Prince of a guy that I am, I started the day her mother left...” Luke scrubbed his jaw. “She cried herself sick for four days.”
“She was seven years old.”
“Yeah. And that was the last time I saw her cry. Think of all the times she didn’t cry when I embarrassed her by telling my friends I didn’t even know her. That was even worse.”
“Give yourself a break. You were a teenager. She followed you around school like a sad-eyed puppy. Hey, I told her to bug off on more than one occasion.”
“She used to scrunch up under that berry bush way in the back of the middle school playground, remember the one? Just scrunch up under all those thorns after I’d told her to get lost. I’d walk by and see her, and feel lower than the scales on a snake’s belly. That sad little face, and all that crazy red hair. And she refused to cry. I could see she wanted to, but damn her stubborn pride, she refused. And I’d walk away, laughing with my friends, and leave her there.”
Nick bit into his three-inch-thick sandwich, catching the sliced pickle before it hit his boot. He stuffed it back between the slices of bread, then licked mustard off his thumb. “And then there’s her seventeenth birthday.”
Luke’s head shot up. “Don’t go there, Stratton.”
Oblivious to the danger, Nick continued. “You kissed her, she puked. End of story. Fine. She’s a big girl now, odds are she doesn’t still throw up when a man kisses her. But who knows? Why take the risk of her upchucking on a friend? Hey, I’m sure she’ll understand if you tell her to get lost. After all, as you say, been there, done that, got the scars to prove it. Besides, just about everyone in Catherine’s life has abandoned her. Why should you be any different?”
Luke closed his eyes. He hadn’t told Nick more than the basics. The truth was he’d allowed his passions to get away from him that night, and in the process had scared Cat to death. She’d needed her brother. Instead he’d turned into Octopus Man with suction lips and a hard-on that wouldn’t quit.
No wonder she’d been sick. And embarrassed. And disappointed in him. Luke glared at Nick, grateful in a perverse way for the reminder. “It’s taken years for her to learn she can trust me again.”
The pain he’d caused her by switching roles midstream still tortured him. They’d never talked about that night, but it lay between them like the monster in a misty bog. He’d sworn not only to be her brother, but her hero, her protector. Her champion. In other words, he’d be what Cat needed.
“I’ve got a lot to make up for. I’m not going to blow it.” Luke tossed his uneaten sandwich into the box they used for trash. He wanted to pace, but that took up too much energy, so he leaned against the counter.
“Got a beer in here?” He dug through the ice and pulled out two cans. “Hey, Cat?” he shouted, handing Nick a beer. “Come and get it.”
He waited a beat for her faint answer, then popped the can and took a long swig. “If she wants help finding a husband, then I’ll help her find a husband. Between us, we must know a hundred eligible single guys. Hell, it can’t be that difficult.”
“Wanna bet?” Nick asked, looking up; his pale blue eyes weren’t smiling as he issued the age-old refrain. Polishing off his sandwich, he reached for another. “Engagement or wedding?”
Luke narrowed his eyes. Man. He hated this whole situation. “Wedding, I guess.”
“Four months.”
“Six. Payoff?”
“Milk in my oldest gym shoe?” Nick asked seriously.
“Get real, Stratton! This is Cat we’re talking about here.”
“Aah! A Major Bet. Mmm,” Nick rubbed his chin. “An all-expenses-paid trip to Vegas. For two.”
They shook on it.
* * *
“I’M ECSTATIC TO announce the toilet in the master bath flushes,” Catherine said to the room in general. She stumbled into the kitchen, then her knees folded and she sat down in the middle of the floor with a thump.
“First order of business—” Luke broke off abruptly as he turned from the window. “You look like hell. What’s wrong with you?”
“Your bathroom made me sick.”
At the speed of light, Luke came down on one knee in front of her. “How sick?” He pushed her hair off her clammy forehead.
Catherine gave him a look. “Barf sick.”
He rose, scooping her into his arms. Very manly, Catherine thought as he strode through the house, yelling for Nick to open the damn front door. She rested her throbbing head on his nicely muscled shoulder and closed her eyes to stop the world spinning.
“Take a couple of deep breaths,” Luke demanded, stomping to the edge of the porch and sitting down on the top step. Right, like she could draw a breath while sitting on Lucas Van Buren’s lap.
“Cat? Breathe, dammit.”
She took a shuddery breath. His splayed hand on her rib cage moved with her lungs. She tried it again. It felt good. She couldn’t figure out now if she was still dizzy from the glue or if it was Luke’s touch making her head spin.
Catherine squinted her eyes open as Nick settled himself on the other end of the step and leaned against the post, a beer can in one hand. He gave her a small, one-dimple smile. “Glue?” he asked Luke, swallowing his amusement with a gulp of brew.
Luke’s hand slipped a fraction of an inch down her rib cage as his breath fanned the top of her head. He was probably getting a mouthful of her unruly hair. His hand shifted up again. Up, Catherine silently ordered. Move up more.
“Fool woman, I told her to open the window.”
“The one you painted closed last weekend?” Nick asked.
“Why didn’t she say so?” Luke’s chest huffed under her cheek. His hand was directly under her right breast. If he’d just move his thumb...
“Perhaps because you weren’t listening when she did tell you.” Catherine joined in the conversation. “Nevertheless, she is a big girl, and should have figured out a way to ventilate her workspace.” She tilted her head to look up at Luke’s very nice chin. “Aren’t I squishing you?”
“No.”
“The last time I sat on your lap, I was nine.” It hadn’t felt nearly this good. Or this dangerous. In fact, what she remembered was feeling safe for the first time in living memory.
“You were covered in mud.” Luke’s voice carried a reminiscent smile.
“You pushed me.” They grinned at each other.
Nick rose with a groan. “Oh, bliss, another trip down memory lane. I have molding to finish installing, then I’m outta here.”
Luke, as if suddenly realizing the position they were in, slid her unceremoniously off his lap and plopped her on the step next to him. The front door closed behind Nick.
“That was a stupid thing to do,” Luke told her. “If you’d passed out in there, I couldn’t have opened the door.”
“As much as I thrill at being called stupid, I have to admit I should have thrown my shoe through the window for ventilation. Point taken. Lecture over.” She rose, staggered and clutched the roof support. “Oh, ick.”
Luke shot up as if someone had lit