Still Crushing on His Best Friend’s Older Sister: Cates Brothers # 2

by Kilraine, Lee

  “What? So, you and Barbara are finally BFFs?” Quinn asked. “I guess you can check that off your bucket list now.”

  “Oh, bite me. I expect a discount on my gym membership,” Delaney said as she limped toward the front door. “Entertainment like that does not come cheap.” The door slammed closed behind her.

  * * *

  All three men stood looking at the front door.

  Gage broke the silence with a drawn-out whistle.

  “That was impressive.” Hawk rubbed his hands together and grinned. “And fun.”

  Fun? Getting pulled back into Delaney’s orbit was not Quinn’s idea of “fun.” He remembered getting over Delaney years ago; there had been nothing fun about it. Hell, he knew not to travel that path again, yet there he stood, staring at the front door, wondering why his twenty-dollar bet suddenly felt like a sucker bet.

  5

  Delaney couldn’t decide what hurt more, her arms, her legs, or her head. She wanted to crawl into bed, but she couldn’t because she knew Greer would talk to Quinn and then she’d be in trouble. Man, who knew nice was so hard? Especially around Barbara. And maybe she snapped at Quinn.

  And his coworkers.

  Okay, a little more effort toward the “be nice” decree might be needed. She used to be nice and even-tempered. She just couldn’t find that person lately, and this new person was unfamiliar and unpredictable.

  She pulled her Jeep into the driveway of their little yellow house. Turning off the engine, she sat and looked at the house she and Greer had grown up in. It was such a cheerful-looking house; too bad it had years of sad memories inside. Yesterday, she had been so tired and hungover it had been easier to block out the house and the memories, which, today, were reaching out to suffocate her.

  Lord, she didn’t know how Greer had been able to live in it all these years, save the time she’d spent away at college. Luckily, they had been able to rent the house out. It had almost covered the mortgage each month. Between the rent, her military salary, and a few odd jobs, they’d been able to keep the house and get Greer through college.

  With a heavy sigh, she pulled herself out of the Jeep. Had it really been eight years since she’d been home? She could have gotten leave to come home for a visit. It wouldn’t have mattered though, since she’d lived paycheck to paycheck during those years. The choices had been easy back then. Books for Greer or head home? New tires for Greer’s car or head home? Bring Greer out to Italy to celebrate her college graduation or head home? That last had been the easiest of them all. They'd had a blast in Italy together.

  Delaney grabbed the railing next to the cracked front steps and worked her way up one weathered grey step at a time. Ouch. She limped past the side door to sit on the porch swing hanging outside the kitchen window. She set the swing in motion with her right foot and closed her eyes, pushing the memories back by focusing on the now. Her whole body hurt, but her prosthesis had her injured leg throbbing. That’s what she got for hiding in her apartment for a month, not sleeping and watching endless episodes of Sesame Street. Jeez, you couldn’t schedule depression for a convenient time. Look what this bout had gotten her—one month behind on her recuperation, a sallow complexion, and a sister who was so scared, she’d stooped to kidnapping in order to play mother hen.

  “Lady, you shouldn’t sit there.”

  Delaney looked over to find a young boy standing at the bottom porch step. His big brown eyes looked up out of his freckled face. Red Kool-Aid stains extended the straight line of his lips. But it was the black eye in the small face that made her sit up straighter. “Why not?”

  “A mean old lion lives there,” he said, pointing at the house behind her. “That’s what my big sister told me.”

  Lion? Or Lyons? Her father had definitely been mean to everyone when he was alive, but a lion struck her as wrong. Too strong and dignified to describe her father. Strong men didn’t need to crush the spirits of others. Delaney shook her head and looked down at the boy. “No lion ever lived here. It was an ogre. An ogre and his two daughters.”

  “Princesses?” The kid’s eyes opened wider.

  “Only if the older princess didn’t have to wear a dress.” Delaney eyed him carefully. “Or kiss a frog.”

  The boy cocked his head at her, as if trying to figure out what kind of a sorry princess he was settling for. “Okay, I guess.”

  Delaney hid a grin and nodded once. “Deal. The ogre yelled and snarled at all who walked by. He was cruel to the older princess, hoping to make her cry—”

  “Did he hurt her?” His chin wobbled. “Did she cry?”

  Once. Thank God her father had only hit her once. When she hadn’t cried, it hadn’t seemed worth his effort. “He didn’t hurt her. She knew she had to protect the younger princess, so she never cried. Not one tear. In the end, the ogre gave up and left the princess alone.”

  The boy moved up the steps to sit beside her on the swing. “Did they live happily ever after?”

  Delaney looked down into the kid’s hopeful, innocent face. Her gaze touched on the black eye—maybe not so innocent. “What’s your name, kid?”

  “Henry Lee. Some people call me HL. My big sister calls me Butthead. I like Henry Lee best. I’m a Savage.”

  “What’s a savage?”

  Henry Lee shrugged his young shoulders. “Don’t know, but I’m one. Yesterday, I got a sad-face sticker on my spellin’ work, and my daddy said, ‘Henry Lee, you are a true Savage.’”

  “Well, Henry Lee, the good news is bad spellers can learn to be good spellers. But mean ogres usually stay mean ogres. Do you know any ogres, Henry Lee?” Delaney asked, hating where her mind was taking her, but she had to ask.

  “Uh-huh.” Henry Lee nodded. “Boogerbutt Brian Ralph. He’s in fourth grade.”

  Delaney’s muscles relaxed. “Did Boogerbutt Brian give you the shiner?”

  “Uh-huh. Right after he took my Super Ninja Squirrel action figure I brought in for show-and-tell. The one with the turbo-action tail. How . . . how did the princess stop her ogre?”

  “Most mean ogres want to get a reaction from someone, so when her ogre tried to get her to cry, she didn’t. But, Henry Lee, sometimes people need help with ogres. It’s okay to ask someone you trust for help.”

  “Okay. I gotta go to tee ball practice now. Maybe I can come see you tomorrow?” Henry Lee smiled hopefully up at her.

  “Only if you run it by your parents first.” Delaney got off the swing as Henry Lee started down the porch steps. “Deal?”

  “Deal!” he called out over his shoulder, only to stop and turn back around to her. “Hey, where was the princesses’ mommy? Why didn’t she stop the ogre?”

  Delaney sucked in a breath. Good question, kid. Looking back, her emotionally detached mother had probably tried to stay out of the way to avoid being the target of her husband’s wrath. She’d died just before Delaney’s ninth birthday. And it hadn’t changed Delaney’s life much at all. She had taken care of Greer as long as she could remember and she just kept on doing it. But none of that would make sense to a child. She, of all people, knew that.

  “The mommy had to leave. So, the big princess took care of the little princess until the ogre died.”

  “My mommy had to leave too. Then did they live happily ever after?”

  “Henry Lee, does your dad feed you Disney movies for breakfast?” Delaney shook her head, wondering if she’d ever been that innocent.

  Henry Lee laughed. “That’s silly. You can’t eat a movie for breakfast. My daddy makes me oatmeal. Bye!”

  Who eats oatmeal for breakfast when there’s a box of Cap’n Crunch nearby? Delaney shrugged and dug the house key out of her pocket. She couldn’t put off going inside the house any longer.

  It was a shame her post-traumatic amnesia only affected her memories a few weeks on both sides of the explosion in Afghanistan. She sure wouldn’t mind losing all the memories of her dysfunctional parents, too.

  Open the door. The ogre is long gone
.

  Delaney stepped into the kitchen and stood still in the quiet house. She could do this. Piece of cake. Speaking of cake, sitting in center of the kitchen table was a cake box from Aunt Marie’s Bakery. This must be Greer’s peace offering after imposing her “you have to eat more” rule.

  She sat down at the table and lifted the lid for a peek, only to look down in confusion at the beautifully decorated cake. It had a multitude of colorful butter cream flowers strewn across the top and cascading down the side. In the center of the cake, piped in gold cursive, were the words Go Away. Maybe not from Greer. Some kind of joke? Huh, well, the joke was on them because she was actually hungry and a slice of cake sounded good right now.

  Of course, that meant she would have to get up out of the chair again to get a knife. Wait a minute. Leaning over, she grabbed the earthenware coffee mug sitting in the middle of the table, pulled the spoon out of the mug, and started slicing the cake as best she could with the teaspoon.

  “Come to mama.” She cut a big slice out of the word “Away” taking the letter Y, scraping an extra yellow icing flower onto the piece too. That was the point when she realized she didn’t have a plate to put it on. Looking around, she finally scooped the piece into the coffee mug and dug in with her spoon.

  “Oh, yeah.” Delaney licked the icing off the spoon and then scooped into the mug for another bite. “Mmmm.”

  “Can I come in, or is this a private moment?” a deep male voice she sadly recognized by now called from the side door.

  “Go away,” she said, trying to talk around a mouth full of icing. Then it dawned on her what she had said, and she looked with raised eyebrows down into the cake box. “Whoa, a psychic message cake?”

  Quinn opened the screen door off the kitchen porch and let himself in. “There is no way I can walk away from moaning like that without checking it out.”

  “Do you ever work?” She peered up at him. “You are an actual police officer with a real badge and gun, or is that just one of the many rumors in this town?”

  “I’m on night shift this week.”

  “Shouldn’t you be home sleeping? What are you doing here?” Delaney asked, digging back into her mug of cake.

  He cleared his throat. “I’m heading home, but Greer sent me over here. She wanted me to tell you she forgot she has to work the sidelines of the Lady Panther lacrosse game this afternoon.” Quinn looked a little stiff and uncomfortable. “She won’t be home for another half hour.”

  “Why didn’t she call?”

  “She did,” Quinn said. “She was worried since you didn’t pick up the phone.”

  Delaney spooned a bite of cake in her mouth, then waved her empty spoon toward the phone. “It didn’t mrring.”

  “Excuse me?” Quinn pulled out the chair next to her and sat down. His legs stretched out until his big feet were next to hers, well into her personal space. She sat up straighter, carefully pulling her feet in, using her free hand to pull back on her bad leg.

  Delaney swallowed her bite of cake, narrowing her eyes at Quinn when she noticed him staring at her mouth. She checked the corners of her lips with her tongue in case she had leftover icing. “It didn’t ring. I didn’t hear it ring.”

  “Huh.” Quinn got up to check the phone. “No dial tone. Did Greer forget to pay the phone bill?”

  “Don’t know, but while you’re up, will you get me a glass of milk?” she asked around another bite of cake.

  “Sure, if I can have a piece of cake too.” Quinn glanced at her lips again, and then abruptly moved to the cupboard, pulling out two glasses. He opened the refrigerator and leaned in. “Looks like there’s skim or chocolate soy.”

  Delaney watched the muscles under his T-shirt ripple as he moved items around in the fridge. Her gaze travelled from his wide shoulders, down his flexing biceps to the firm lines in his muscular forearms and hands. The muscles in his forearms contracted, and she felt something flutter low in her abdomen. What the heck?

  She’d known Quinn since he was in kindergarten. He was her little sister’s friend and he needed to stay safely in that box. Except for that one week. He wasn’t safely in a box then either. His strong hands flexed on the glasses, and the warmth curled in her stomach again. Nope. Not happening. Burying emotions had been her survival method for the last nine months. No sense switching that up now.

  “What do you want, Delaney?”

  “What do I want?” Nothing she could afford. Life had taught her long ago she couldn’t always have what she wanted.

  “Your glass of milk?”

  “Oh, milk. Right. Um, skim, please.”

  Quinn swung abruptly back to the open refrigerator and her gaze latched on to his back like a super magnet on forged steel. She slammed her eyelids shut and talked herself back from the edge. It’s just physical attraction. Easily ignored. Especially considering her own shortcomings now. Ignore his darn sex appeal and focus on what you need. She needed to ease Greer’s worries so she could get back to D.C. She lowered her head and dug back into her mug of cake.

  6

  What the hell was he doing here? He’d asked himself the same thing on the drive over, but his brain had argued that a Southern gentleman could manage thirty minutes of friendly conversation. Stupid brain. He should have known his “other” brain had probably tied up his Southern gentleman and taken him hostage. That was the only explanation, because after this morning in the gym, he should have known being alone with Delaney was like playing with matches near a gas leak.

  Quinn turned back to Delaney with a glass of milk in each hand only to freeze at the sight of her licking the last bit of icing from the back of the spoon, unable to take his eyes off the spoon or her pink tongue. She had a smear of icing on the bottom of her lower lip. Her soft, plump, delicious-looking lower lip. Damn. Embers he was sure he’d stomped out years ago began to burn in his gut. He spun around, dumping the contents of both glasses of milk in the sink. “That milk smells off.”

  He opened the refrigerator and managed to practically stick his whole head in it for ten seconds. He poured two glasses of chocolate soy milk, then took a deep, controlling breath before turning back to place the glasses on the table.

  “Don’t forget a plate and a fork.” Delaney started whacking at the cake with the spoon. “You want flowers or letters?”

  “Whatever.” Quinn grabbed a plate out of the cupboard and a fork from the drying rack next to the sink. Moving back to the table, he looked down at the cake. “Who’s Awa? And why are you rooting for them?”

  “What are you talking about?” Delaney scooped a yellow icing flower off the cake with her finger. One lick and the flower was gone from her finger and the embers in Quinn’s gut were heading into four-alarm territory.

  He quickly spun the chair around to straddle it while he held his plate out for cake. “Hit me.”

  “Trust me, I almost did at the gym today.” She slapped a big slice of cake none too gently on his plate.

  “What did I do?” He tried to look innocent while he forked up a bite.

  “Oh, please.” Delaney scowled. “Greer told me someone at your gym would keep Barbie away from me. All you did was pull up front-row seats.”

  “Yeah, about that. Greer only told me about that part of it a few minutes ago,” Quinn said. “Honestly, we’re normally busy protecting each other from Barbara.”

  “Right.” She shot him a skeptical look as she stretched forward for her glass of milk. “Ouch.”

  “Your leg?” He leaned forward in case she needed help.

  “I’m fine. Only tired and sore.”

  “You don’t look fine. Are you getting any sleep?”

  “Why would I do that?” Delaney asked. “Besides, I think I have my nights mixed up with my days.”

  “You know, when the lights go out at night and it gets dark—that’s your sign,” he said.

  “I noticed that, but I don’t usually follow the popular trends,” she said. “Besides, I just can’t sleep.”


  Was it just him, or did she feel the same heat he did? The moment opened up big and wide. It sat there, lush and ripe, waiting for him to grab it with both hands and do something with it. Or step back and walk away. His brain warned him to play it safe and keep his sanity, only his mouth didn’t get the message.

  “There are things you can do. I know ways to tire yourself out so you can sleep.” Quinn looked directly at her. “I’m certainly willing to help.”

  “You mean you’re willing to suck it up and go down for the cause?” Delaney asked. “Uh, so to speak.”

  “Interesting choice of words. You betcha,” he said. Nothing like pouring gasoline on the fire.

  “Hey, now. You’re my little sister’s boyfriend.” Delaney added some ewww factor to her tone.

  “Where did you get that idea?” Quinn stood up and stepped close to her chair. He reached out his hand for one of hers and gently pulled her up until she was standing a foot apart from him. “Greer and I have only been friends. You know that.”

  Delaney had to tilt her head back to look up all six-feet-two-inches of him to arrive at his face. “That still puts you off limits. And I’m older than you.”

  That did it. A man could only take so much, and here’s where he drew the line. Off limits? No way. Three years was nothing. Guess it was up to him to tempt her across into forbidden territory. She’d crossed into it once before.

  “The heck with that.” Quinn slid one hand to the back of Delaney’s head while he tilted her chin up with his other hand. He saw the surprise on her face as he lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her hungrily. When he pulled away to look at her again, her eyes were glazed over. He went back for another kiss. This time, he stroked her lips with his tongue while he held her face in both hands. When she parted her lips, he moved in. She tasted like sweet sugar and vanilla. He forced himself to end the kiss, but stood with his forehead leaning against hers. They were both breathing heavily.