But she knew that no matter what his answer, just asking would irrevocably alter their relationship. She wasn’t sure which outcome she’d hate more…knowing he’d done something so out of character…or having him be innocent and realize that his own flesh and blood, the little girl he’d cherished his whole life, had spent even one second doubting his integrity.
No, there was going to be some other way. And Sean Gannon was going to help her find it. They’d find a way that satisfied both their needs. They had to. She was still concerned about his involvement, but he wasn’t going to sit back to let her deal with this alone no matter what she said or did. And she couldn’t deny the peace of mind it gave her to know she could finally share the burden with someone.
If her emotions hadn’t been in such turmoil, she’d have been amused to realize that, somehow, a man she’d known less than a month was now the only person in the world she could trust. Even more amusing was the realization that she did trust him. Implicitly.
“Are you okay?”
She blinked up at her father, who was staring at her uncertainly. She smiled briskly. “I’m fine. Just a million things running through my mind. I know you understand how that is.”
He smiled. “Yes, I certainly do. And I suppose I should get out of your hair and let you get back to work.” He walked to the door, with Laurel right behind him. “Things will probably get pretty hectic in the days and weeks to come. You call me for anything, you hear?”
She nodded, reached up and kissed his cheek. “I promise.”
“I’d like us to take an evening, have some dinner together, maybe talk things over if you’d like. I have a number of meetings with my campaign people and I’m not sure when I can get—”
“It’s okay, Dad. I’d enjoy that, too. Why don’t you just let me know when you can get down this way and I’ll make the time?”
Finally the last vestiges of concern seemed to lift from his gaze. “Good. We’ll do that.” He leaned down, kissed the top of her head. It made her feel like a child again. Somehow, that didn’t bother her too much at the moment, either. In fact, she wished she was that child. Things would be so much simpler. “Keep in touch,” he told her as he opened the door. “And don’t let those media hounds get to you. You’re a Patrick, after all, and Patricks—”
“Never let ’em see you sweat,” she finished with him. She smiled as he walked down the hall, enjoyed the varying looks of admiration and awe that the courthouse workers gave him as he walked by. Then she ducked back into her office, closed the heavy door and leaned against it with an equally heavy sigh. Her smile vanished and her stomach squeezed. She walked over to her desk and fished a roll of antacids from her top drawer. “Letting them see me sweat isn’t a worry, Dad,” she murmured. “Letting them see me fall completely to pieces, now there’s a concern.”
She moved back behind her desk as her intercom buzzed with the announcement of her first appointment’s arrival. At the moment she’d be happy to just settle her stomach long enough that she didn’t feel like she had to throw up.
“WELL, WELL, about time you decided to show up.”
Sean shot his younger brother, Clay, a look. “Duty called.”
His sister, Isabel, climbed out of the other side of Clay’s pickup and gave him the once-over. “Mmmhmm,” she murmured dryly. She fingered his rumpled black T-shirt and motioned to his heavily creased jeans. “And just what kind of duty was she?” she added sweetly.
Sean ignored her—a survival reflex skill he’d perfected early in his childhood—and turned to Clay. “Where’s Dave? He said he was going to help out.”
Clay rolled his eyes. “Oh, he got stuck with diaper duty so Carly and Mom could go shopping.”
Sean laughed in disbelief. “You mean there is something left on this earth that our parents’ only grandchild does not yet own?”
Isabel snickered at that. “And I thought I was high maintenance.”
“You are,” both Sean and Clay said simultaneously.
She merely arched a brow. “Fine, fine, but enough with the avoidance. Are you going to tell us about her, Sean?”
He thought about dodging the whole issue, but he intended to introduce Laurel to his family. At some point. His wariness was not so much due to the current media glare and safety concerns surrounding Laurel. Rather, it was due to his desire that their relationship first be solid enough to survive the introduction itself. At the moment he was thinking that might be, oh, when they were celebrating their fifth wedding anniversary. Looking at Isabel’s and Clay’s avidly curious expressions, he amended that to their tenth anniversary. Maybe they could both move out of state.
Had he not been so concerned with getting the massive U-Haul truck unloaded in time to get back to Laurel’s, he might have been a bit shocked to realize he’d actually thought of marriage and himself in the same sentence and hadn’t suffered even one heart palpitation.
“It’s…complicated,” he finally said.
Both siblings raised their eyebrows. “Complicated,” Isabel drawled. “Hmm. She’s not married, is she?”
Sean did register shock then. “What? Do you really think me capable of that?”
“Of course not. I was just angling for the real truth, thinking you might defend your way into blabbing all.”
He just gave her a look as his buddy, fellow U.S. Marshal Derek Flynn, climbed out of the rental truck in his driveway. “Fat chance.”
“When do we get to meet her?” Isabel persisted.
“If there was a her, and I’m not saying there is, what makes you think I’d expose her to you guys? It would be a surefire way to end up alone and lonely all over again.”
Clay just laughed. “If she can’t handle us, what makes you think she’ll be able to handle you?”
Sean looked to the sky as if to ask “Why me?” then changed the subject. “What about Dad? Is he coming by later?”
“He’ll be here. He drove Mom over to Carly’s and was helping David install some baby protection doo-dads, then he’ll be here.”
“Great. We’ll need all the help we can get.”
“Yeah,” Clay said, observing the size of the rental truck. “A shame Brett and Haley had to go back to San Francisco. Family makes for great slave labor.”
Sean grinned. “We don’t want to scare Haley off that fast.”
“Shoot, she gave another Gannon brother a chance, didn’t she? She’s already a lost cause,” Clay said with a laugh.
Isabel was still staring at the truck. “Just how much stuff do you have anyway?”
Sean looked from her to the truck that his friend had not only driven down for him, but had also helped pack. He hadn’t really thought he had all that much stuff. He’d been sent ahead to Beauregard almost immediately upon returning from the islands and putting in his acceptance of the job. His predecessor was already gone and things were a bit crazy getting the transfer of duties before the next training session began.
According to Derek and the three other marshals he’d recruited to help him out, it had taken them an entire day to load the sucker up. Sean had been hoping for twice that number to do the unloading on this end. He was missing Brett and Haley more by the second.
Derek was presently leaning against the side of the truck, arms folded on his chest, a look in his eye that said, “I did not sign on for this.” Sean turned to his sister. “What about that hulking commodities trader you were boring us all to tears with at Brett’s wedding by blabbing his every triumph?”
She snorted, but the tinge of pink that warmed her cheeks belied her insouciant tone. “Oh, he told me he had a long to-do list and couldn’t make it. When I dropped by his place this morning with coffee and muffins, thinking I’d help him with his list so he could help me with this, I discovered one of the things he had to do was named Monica.”
“Ouch,” Sean said with a sincere wince. “I’m really sorry, Iz.”
“Yeah, well, thanks. As it happens, he’s not all that happy at the
moment, either. I threw one of Monica’s spike heels at him. Honestly, I meant to hit him in the chest.” She glanced at her nails, a barely concealed evil grin curving the corners of her mouth. “I was off by a little.”
Clay flinched. Derek suddenly found the ground very fascinating.
“I’m assuming Monica’s not all that happy then, either,” Sean said, having flinched a little himself. Isabel was not a woman you messed with. She’d grown up with a trio of brothers ready to defend her honor…and had never once required their assistance. In fact, she could probably teach the Gannon men a thing or two about relationship defensive maneuvers.
Isabel laughed. “I’m not sure which pissed her off more—Pete’s performance interruptus or losing the heel off that designer shoe.”
“And she wonders why she’s still single,” Clay muttered.
Izzy sent him the evil eye. “You know, I may not be packing a loaded spiked heel at the moment, but I do have various and sundry other projectiles in my purse that could come in very handy.”
Clay raised his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry.”
At her continued glare, he slowly lowered his hands, thinking perhaps personal protection of certain vulnerable anatomical parts was more important. He kept his hands in front of his fly even as Isabel stalked off around the front of his truck.
Derek chuckled. “Quite the sister you’ve got there, Gannon.”
Sean just sighed. “You’re welcome to have her. We’re offering a special deal to anyone who’ll take her across state lines.”
“I heard that, Sean Jameson Gannon,” Isabel called across the hood of Clay’s truck.
Derek raised his hands. “Don’t put me in the middle of this.”
Isabel came around the back of Clay’s truck, heading toward the rear door of the rental, but paused right in front of Derek. She looked him up, then down, then right in the eye. “Your loss,” was all she said as she disappeared around the back and began lowering the lift.
Derek shook his hands and mouthed, “Whew!” Then with a sly grin and a wink, immediately followed Isabel’s tracks around to the back of the truck.
“Another one bites the dust,” Clay mourned.
Sean laughed. “He can handle himself. He’s had special survival training.” They both walked to the rear of the truck as the hydraulic lift began to hum.
“Yeah,” Clay said, his lips curving, “but that only covers war, combat, famine and extreme wilderness. Not one of which will help him when it comes to dealing with Izzy.”
Sean cuffed the back of his baby brother’s head. “You know so much about women, do you, frat boy?”
Clay shot him a patented Gannon grin. “Enough, old man. Enough.”
They both laughed, then got to work. As the sweat rolled and the furniture slowly got unloaded, Sean enjoyed the steady stream of insults and invectives that flowed from sibling to sibling. Odd as it might seem to an outsider, he enjoyed it, felt somewhat comforted by the normalcy of their age-old routine. It made him wonder why he’d waited so long to come back home.
Izzy cornered him in the kitchen hours later, after they were all done. He grabbed a few beers out of the fridge, planning to take them out to the small rear patio—the only space left in the house that wasn’t cluttered with furniture or boxes—and pass them out to his very tired helpers.
“I guess you got the pack-rat gene,” she said.
He nodded, finding it hard to disagree with her considering the number of boxes he’d hauled in that afternoon. “I’m thinking of using half of them for fire-wood this winter. Unopened.”
“Only half? Where will you sleep?”
“Very funny.” He passed her the stack of pizza boxes that had just arrived. “Here, you can take these out back.” He tossed a roll of paper towels on top.
She set the pizza right back on the small bar that separated the cooking area from the dining area. “You in a big rush or something?”
“No, I just figured the least I could do is get everyone their pizza while it’s hot and their beer while it’s still cold.” He could tell by the look on her face that she’d merely been biding her time, waiting to grill him again. He had neither the time nor the inclination to indulge her, despite the hard labor she’d given him today. The sun was starting to fade and he still had several things he needed to take care of before going back over to Laurel’s.
“They’d eat cardboard and drink from the hose at this point, so I don’t think you’re in any danger of insulting anyone if you take five minutes to talk to your sister. Your older sister, the firstborn, who loves you and is only concerned about your well-being. The sister who gave her all for you today without complaint.”
“Without complaint? You should have stopped at the caring-about-me part,” he said wryly.
She smiled, but when she spoke again, the chiding sisterly tone was gone. “You have met someone, though, haven’t you?” she asked with what seemed sincere interest.
He waffled. He wanted to shout it from the rooftops. While at the same time, wanting to hold it close, to keep it all for himself, to hoard these new feelings rather than risk diminishing them in any way by sharing. Especially with his older sister, who had often been less than careful with his feelings in the past.
Her smile gradually faded as the silence lengthened. And if he wasn’t mistaken, he saw hurt flicker in her eyes. He hadn’t meant to do that. Was surprised, really, that he could. Izzy had never been exactly the vulnerable type.
“I guess that tells me a few things,” she said quietly.
“What’s that?” he asked, still wary, despite the tinge of guilt he felt for not immediately being willing to open up.
“Well, if there wasn’t anyone, you’d have simply said so, and tossed back in my face any pithy remark I chose to make.”
He said nothing, just held her gaze.
She sighed. “And that while you were in Denver we drifted further apart than merely geographically.”
“I’ve been gone from home for a very long time,” he reminded her. Since he’d headed off to Stanford, right out of high school. He’d gone from there into the service, and after moving around a bit, had eventually taken the assignment in Denver. He’d been there ever since.
A smile flirted around her lips. “She must be very special to have brought you back home again.”
Now his grin surfaced. “I hate to even reveal this, but I’d already decided to come home on my own.”
Her eyes lit up. “‘Already,’ he says. Aha. Meaning there is a woman and she’s here in Louisiana!” She blew on her fingernails, then buffed them on her damp T-shirt. “Don’t be too upset with yourself. You’re dealing with a pro here, Sean. Never underestimate my ability to wheedle anything out of anybody.”
He shook his head and laughed, actually relieved she’d reverted back to her more accepted form: the tough, straight-talking Izzy they all expected her to be. However, that flicker of hurt he’d spied didn’t fade from memory quite as easily. And he wondered if that was a role she sometimes tired of playing. It occurred to him that maybe he wasn’t the only one learning some life lessons, making some major changes. He hadn’t forgotten that she’d just that morning found her current boyfriend in bed with another woman. Despite her seeming dismissive acceptance of the whole thing, he knew that had to have hurt. If not her heart, then at the very least her ego. He supposed he was as guilty as his siblings for believing, or wanting to believe, that the oldest Gannon child was bruise-proof. He was old enough now, had suffered enough of his own bruises, to know that couldn’t be the case.
Maybe Izzy had been trying to tell him that, when she’d asked him sincerely to share something of himself, of his private life, with her. Maybe he should have extended her the same morsel of trust he was asking Laurel to extend him. He’d moved back home to be around his family, to put down some permanent roots.
And there was a whole hell of lot more to putting down roots than shoving a bunch of boxes under a new roof.
Izzy had picked up the pizza boxes and was heading out to the deck. She stopped dead at the door. She turned but said nothing. There was no hint of the smart-ass, sharp-tongued older sibling on her face now. “I’m really glad, Sean. Really glad.”
He stepped closer when he saw the sheen of moisture glass over her eyes. He hadn’t been away from home so long that he thought for one second she’d want him to point that out to her, or in any way indicate he noticed. But sometimes you had to take risks. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out for you and Pete.”
Whether she was surprised that he’d mentioned it at all, or because he’d done so in such a sincere manner, her eyes widened…and grew suspiciously wetter. She lifted one shoulder, tried to smile…and Sean wondered when he’d ever doubted that she was just as fragile and human as the rest of them.
“Better I found out now,” she said, the watery tone at odds with the insouciant shrug.
“Yeah,” he said. “I guess so.”
She leaned against the door frame, tried to sniffle without making it obvious. “So, we ever going to get to meet this paragon of virtue who finally snagged your attention?”
“I hope so,” he said, then took the next faltering step. “I meant it when I said it’s complicated. You’ll understand later. But I do—” He broke off, not sure how much he was willing to reveal.
Izzy balanced the pizza boxes and rubbed the soft buzz of hair on his head with her knuckles, the way she used to when they were kids. Only this time she didn’t make it hurt. Still, it made him smile at the memories of all the times it had.
“You’ve been alone for so long, I know you’re not used to sharing private, personal stuff,” she said. “Thanks for sharing a little bit of it with me.” She smiled now, not so worried that he saw the emotion shining in her eyes. “It wasn’t so hard, was it?”
He shook his head.
She laughed a little, then sniffed. “Good, then maybe you can help me figure out how to do a little more of it myself.”
Sean barked out a laugh then. “God, talk about the blind leading the blind.”
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