A Sinclair Homecoming (The Sinclairs of Alaska)

by Kimberly van Meter - A Sinclair Homecoming (The Sinclairs of Alaska)

  “Speak of the devil,” Miranda said in surprise, peering past him. “Looks like someone’s on a dinner date.”

  Wade tried concentrating on his own dinner, but in the end curiosity won out and he nonchalantly turned around. It was hard not to notice how pretty Morgan was outside of a clinical, professional setting. Her hair was down, curled in lazy waves that she had tucked off to one side. She wasn’t wearing her glasses, which softened her face and the pink-champagne blouse she wore brought up the roses in her cheeks. He returned to his dinner plate and shoveled a bite of food into his mouth. “I guess all work and no play makes Dr. O’Hare a dull girl.”

  “Something tells me the date isn’t going very well. She has a look on her face like she wants to escape.”

  “Maybe it’s because her date looks old enough to be her father. I can’t imagine they have much in common.”

  Miranda narrowed her gaze then her eyes widened with recognition. “I thought that’s who that was. That’s George Founder. He owns one of the nicest galleries in town. He mostly specializes in art that I don’t really care for but he has big-name clients. I’m talking big money.”

  Wade shrugged. “Good for her. I guess money is the great equalizer.”

  “That wasn’t nice. How do you know she wasn’t coerced into a dinner date with him? Or maybe she’s just being polite because basically the expression on her face right now is that she’d rather poke her own eye out with her salad fork than remain another minute with George.”

  “Sounds like her problem, not mine.”

  “Okay, okay. I get the hint. So tell me, are you dating anyone in California? You never talk about a girl so we never know. I have to ask, are you gay?”

  He nearly choked on his mashed potatoes. “What do you mean, ‘am I gay?’ What the hell kind of question is that?”

  “Not that there’s a problem with it if you are. You’re still my brother no matter what. It’s just a little weird that you never talk about your romantic relationships, which makes me wonder if you were afraid to admit something.”

  “And neither do you. Up until a few months ago you were pretty single, as well. It’s not my fault that suddenly you’re all fired up to get settled down. Don’t drag me into that.”

  She looked guilty and nodded. “Okay, you got me there. Up until Jeremiah I probably never would’ve imagined tying the knot with anyone. Or being tied down in any way. But now that I have Jeremiah, he’s made me realize that I was living a really lonely life. And now that Trace has Delainey, of course I think about what you’re doing and how your emotional life is going. And now that I’m in love I realized that it’s kinda weird that you have not had a steady girlfriend in a really long time. So the next logical question popped up.”

  “Could it be that I’m just too busy to settle down? You have to jump to ‘are you gay’?” He wiped his mouth and took a drink of water. “To answer your question, no, I am not gay. I don’t have a problem with gay people but I’m not one of them. I’m not attracted to men in any way. Does that clear things up?”

  “Well, it clears that question up. But you’re really not dating anyone? I mean, I’m sure you have needs, right?”

  Did his sister just ask him about his sex life? Please tell me this is not happening. “Not that I wouldn’t love to have a conversation with my little sister about my sex life, I don’t have a juicy story to tell. If you must know I was dating someone on and off but I broke it off before I left. Her name is Elizabeth and she’s an attorney. We’re both busy, our schedules are hectic and neither one of us is interested or even available for anything more than casual.”

  That wasn’t entirely true. Elizabeth had been lobbying pretty hard to push their relationship to the next level but frankly, the idea just gave Wade hives. It was easier to keep people at a distance than bring them in close. He didn’t have time for romantic entanglements. Not to mention, the last serious girlfriend had wanted him to see a counselor because of his insomnia. She’d had a crazy idea that his sleeping problems were because of Simone. He found her idea to be ludicrous and when she wouldn’t let it go, he let her go.

  “I’ll settle down eventually. I’ll need something to do when I retire,” he joked. “Besides, with you and Trace both looking to get married this year I don’t think there is any thunder left for a third wedding.”

  “Well, shows how much you know. Trace and Delainey already got married.”

  “They’re married? Hell, I didn’t even rate a phone call?”

  “Oh, stop, like you were going to drop everything and show up for a quickie ceremony at the courthouse?”

  “Well, no,” he admitted. “But it would’ve been nice to know.”

  “Take it up with Trace but honestly, you and I both know that Delainey and Trace should’ve married years ago. It was just a formality and they weren’t interested in wasting more time.”

  He supposed he could understand that, and Miranda had a point. Likely, even if Trace had called, he probably would’ve sent his brother to voice mail. Guess there was no reason to ruffle feathers over something already done and gone. “A quickie wedding, huh?”

  “Yep. Lucky dogs. Nothing but a justice of the peace to make it official. I envy them. Jeremiah wants to have a big wedding so no quickie wedding for us,” she added with a grumble. “Frankly, this wedding stuff is exhausting. And then add in all of our parents’ crap...it’s murder on my sanity. Do you have any idea how many types of wedding cake there are? I think I’ve gained ten pounds just taste testing. And why does it have to be cake? I say let’s have pumpkin pie.”

  He laughed. “I dare you to have pumpkin pie at your wedding. That would be awesome.”

  “Right? Who likes wedding cake, anyway? The buttercream is always too sweet and half of the cake goes to waste. Oh, and those cakes are expensive. Our small wedding is quickly approaching the $10,000 mark. That’s ridiculous. I’d rather go to Tahiti.”

  “Why does Jeremiah want to have a large wedding?”

  Miranda sighed. “Well, he said it’s probably the one and only time he’ll ever see me in a dress so he wants to do it up big.”

  Wade belly laughed at that. “You know, he’s probably right. The guy’s pretty smart.”

  “Yeah, he’s a keeper.” At the warm smile on his sister’s face, Wade suffered a pang of envy and damn if his gaze didn’t stray briefly to Morgan before darting back to his sister. For some reason, the knowledge that Morgan was on a date kept sticking in his thoughts like a bee frantically struggling against a spider web. Did Morgan prefer older guys? He straightened and squared his shoulders until he realized he had no business thinking—or caring—what turned Morgan O’Hare’s crank. If she liked older guys, more power to her. Wade forced his attention back to Miranda, barely catching the tail end of her conversation but he must have covered well as Miranda didn’t miss a beat. “Of course, all this wedding planning could be a waste of time. How am I supposed to pull off a wedding when my family is imploding? What if Dad isn’t out of jail? Or what if Mom continues to go off the rails? It’s times like these that I want to beg Jeremiah to elope. Honestly, I just want to have a normal family again.”

  At the quiet pain in his sister’s voice, Wade cringed and tried not to hear recrimination, but he’d left soon after Simone had died, and he hadn’t been around to help pick up the pieces. He hadn’t expected to be gone this long but circumstances had put him in California and he hadn’t made an effort to return. He liked California. And he loved his job. But his family needed him and he had to stick around. He purposefully brought the focus back to safe topics. “Tell me about my nephew. What does he like? It’s hard to get to know someone over the telephone. Do you think it would be okay if I picked him up from school and we went to the park?”

  “Oh, he’d like that,” she said, lighting up with the kind of love that only a mother possessed, a
nd he realized he didn’t know his little sister as a mother. He’d left before Talen was born and had only seen him in pictures. “He’s such a great kid. He and Jeremiah have really hit it off. It was hard for Jeremiah at first because he lost his only son in an ATV accident but Talen wiggled his way into Jeremiah’s heart and has been there ever since. I wasn’t looking for a father for Talen but I lucked out and got one, anyway.”

  “Planning on having any more?”

  “I don’t know...maybe down the road but for now we’re just focusing on being happy and healthy—both emotionally and physically.”

  “Look at you, all spiritual now.” He grinned, teasing. “I’m kidding. I’m glad to see you so happy. Makes me think I’m actually missing out by remaining a lone wolf.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Lone wolf. In your dreams. More like strange squirrel.”

  “Hey!” Wade lobbed a pea at her, and she dodged with a gasp.

  “We’re in a restaurant,” she said with mock outrage. “What would our parents say?”

  “Well, if our mother was in her right mind and our father wasn’t in jail, I’d probably get an earful or a thump on the head—then again, I’m not twelve so...”

  “Yeah, yeah...” Miranda laughed and sighed as they both realized the evening was drawing to a close. “What if Mom doesn’t respond to therapy?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. Guess we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

  “Are you going to visit Dad in jail?”

  He sighed; seeing his father behind bars wasn’t something he was looking forward to. “I suppose. Doesn’t seem right to come all the way home and not see him, right?”

  “It’s up to you. But I can’t help but think that it will make a difference if he sees you. I think he’s taken it personal that you haven’t come home in so long.”

  “Why is that?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Just a feeling.”

  “Have you gone to see him?”

  “Of course. I can’t not visit him. Even though Trace is pretty mad at him, he still offered to bail him out, which Dad refused, and now Trace won’t talk to him at all.”

  “I never in a million years imagined that I’d someday visit my dad in jail. What happened to our family?” It was a rhetorical question; they both knew what happened. He pulled some cash from his wallet but Miranda stopped him and put her credit card down instead. “You have a wedding to pay for. Let me get this one,” he protested.

  “Nope. I asked you to dinner and so I’ll pay. You can catch the next one.”

  He grudgingly agreed but he was happy to see his sister doing so well. There’d been a time when he’d been worried about her. Her old boyfriend Johnny had been a real treat from what he’d heard. Maybe it’d been a blessing that he hadn’t been here to see the crap he put Miranda through. He couldn’t say he wouldn’t have punched the loser in the face.

  They said their goodbyes, and Wade forcefully refrained from glancing in Morgan’s direction as they exited the restaurant. He didn’t want to try and gauge how her date was going by her body language or facial expression and he just knew that he might if he dared to send a single look her way. He walked Miranda to her car and hugged her again, thanking her for talking him into dinner. The air had a serious bite and he sensed snow on the way. Funny how he could leave and come back, and the old instincts returned.

  Miranda drove away, and instead of climbing into his car, Wade detoured to the main street filled with a row of darkened shops and walked the sidewalk, even though it looked as though every shop was closed. He was uncertain why he didn’t just go back to his hotel and watch some television but he found himself drawn to the one place on the block that wasn’t blacked out.

  Classical music drifted from the building, and Wade decided to check it out. He opened the door and was blasted with warmth as he entered the building, which he determined was an art gallery. He appreciated art but wasn’t exactly an authority on what constituted good art. However, it was a way to pass the time so he wandered the building, looking at each piece along with the others.

  “What do you think?” a female voice chirped behind him, and he turned to see a woman of medium height, unnaturally glossy black hair and a bright smile, watching him. “Before you answer, I should disclose that I’m the artist,” she admitted as she stuck out her hand. “Hi, I’m Mona.”

  He accepted her handshake and smiled. “Hi, Mona. I’m Wade. Nice to meet you. So you’re the artist?”

  “Guilty. So, now that you know you’re staring at my heart and soul, what do you think?”

  Wade took a second look at the offering, noting the oddly shaped heads and general chaotic nature of the piece and tried to be polite, not wanting to offend. “It’s definitely eye-catching.”

  “You don’t like it,” she deduced with a frown but before he could protest, she had started talking again. “It’s okay. Art is subjective. But the prevailing opinion seems to be the same as yours. It’s days like this I wonder if I ought to toss in the towel and apply at Wal-Mart.”

  “It can’t be that bad. Besides, like you said, art is subjective. You just need to find the people who are looking for lopsided faces and bleeding cactus. That is a cactus, right?”

  She nodded. “It’s a metaphor for what happens when you keep people at a distance. You know, it kills.”

  “Oh. Right.” He nodded as if he understood but honestly, he was more of a straightforward kind of guy with no appreciation for metaphor—in real life or art. “Well, keep at it. Where would the world be without Salvador Dali or Rene Magritte?”

  Her face lit up. “I am so impressed you know some surrealist artists! Most people’s understanding of art only goes so far.”

  He laughed and held up his hands. “Whoa, I’m no art aficionado. Honestly, I only know enough to speak briefly at cocktail parties. Beyond that, I’m clueless.”

  “Well, that’s a start, anyway,” she said, surprising him when she linked her arm through his. “I like you, Wade. You’re smart, funny and you’re not hard on the eyes. Where have you been my whole life?”

  Wade didn’t know what to think about the artist Mona but he was intrigued by her open nature. And, well, to be honest, she was pretty cute. However, she did remind him of someone that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He smiled down at her and quipped, “In administration.”

  “Ugh. Desk duty. Not my scene,” Mona said, but her smile brightened as she said, “So the showing is just about over...how about you and I take this introduction someplace else?”

  “Such as?”

  “I’m down for whatever.” She snuggled up more tightly against him, and he received an enticing view of her cleavage, thanks to the push-up of her black bustier. “We could go to my place...” She smiled suggestively and his blood heated.

  It’d been a while since he and Elizabeth had been together and his libido was more than happy to get more acquainted with this quirky, cute artist. But was that wise? His intuition warned him that dallying with strange women on a return home wasn’t a smart move but he was intrigued and, well, starting to remember how much he loved the feel of a woman pressed against him.

  “Sure, I guess we could do that,” he said, laughing when she squealed and did a little happy dance.

  “This is going to be fun! I just know it!”

  Then he and his newfound friend climbed into his car and took off for her place.

  And when a little voice in his head warned him that he was going to regret this...he slammed the door and threw away the key.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THAT WAS THE longest dinner date of her life. Morgan yawned and placed her purse on the entry table, rubbing her eyes, intent on a single objective—a glass of wine and bed.

  But as she went toward the kitchen, she heard the distinct sound of la
ughter coming from her living room. Mona, she realized as she recognized the laugh, must have been using her house as a place to entertain. It was something her sister often did when she wanted to impress someone. Ordinarily, Morgan didn’t mind as long as she received a courtesy call to let her know but tonight she was tired, grouchy and irritated that Mona hadn’t even given her a heads-up. But as she rounded the corner, ready to give her sister a piece of her mind, she startled when she saw who Mona was entertaining.

  “Wade Sinclair?” The name escaped her mouth in a shocked gasp, immediately followed by intense discomfort over what she deduced was happening. “What is going on here? Please tell me this isn’t what it looks like.”

  Mona glanced up at Morgan’s sharp query, and Wade’s gaze widened in recognition as he immediately put distance between himself and Mona. “Um...this is awkward,” he said, looking as embarrassed as a teenaged boy who’d been caught by his parents making out with a girl.

  Ugh. Had he been about to make a move on her sister? She shouldn’t care—but she did.

  “I didn’t realize...”

  She waved away his attempts to explain, definitely not interested in suffering through the uncomfortable stumblings of this awkward social encounter. Instead, she directed her comment to Mona, lasering her with a stern glare. “The next time you bring someone to my house to entertain, you have to let me know. Those are the rules and they haven’t changed.”

  “Geesh, party pooper. You’re in a fine mood,” Mona groused then gestured to Morgan. “Wade, I believe you’ve already met my sister, Morgan.”

  “Sister...” The word slipped from Wade’s mouth as understanding hit him between the eyes, and Morgan graced him with a brief but ultimately aggrieved smile. “This is... I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize...”

  “I know. It’s fine.” No, it wasn’t. “But if you wouldn’t mind calling it an evening...I would appreciate it.”