Quick Fix (16 page)

“James must not have changed his magic palm lock—it still works for me. And
you
must be James’s sister—you look just like him. Well, with a few”—he paused for a millisecond, his eyes flitting to my chest—“minor differences.” I pulled the sheet higher, pretty sure I was being mocked. “The resemblance must be why I’m finding you so tempting right now. James can hardly blame me for that. In fact, he should be flattered.”

I didn’t say anything, but I might have growled.

“Oh, she’s a scary one, isn’t she?” he said, addressing his remark to Billy. “Are you wearing a cup, friend? Might be a good idea.”

Billy gave me a sideways glance, but wisely didn’t mention the time I’d kicked him in the nuts when we were in fifth grade. He
had
been wearing a cup for soccer practice then, lucky for him. “Not at the moment,” he said, fighting a smile he knew would get him killed if released. “Dev, you might want to wait for us in the living room.”

“If you insist.” He turned slowly, trying, I was sure, to show his ass off to its best advantage. (Not difficult—it was a fine ass, much as it pained me to admit it.) Looking back over his shoulder, he said, “Don’t worry, little one. I didn’t see everything. Only the”—another micro pause—“tail end.”

How very reassuring.

*   *   *

Once I was dressed I felt a little less vulnerable, but I still didn’t particularly want to face my brother’s bisexual wannabe lover. I couldn’t stay hidden in the bedroom and risk Billy flapping his elbows at me again, though, so I toughed it out. But I stuck close to Billy’s side, holding his hand so Devon wouldn’t get any ideas about either one of us being available.

“James doesn’t know you’re here,” I said to Devon once we’d joined him, keeping my voice cool, like it didn’t bother me a bit that, depending on how long he’d been peeking through the bedroom door, he might have seen parts of me nobody except my gynecologist, and now Billy, had seen since I was out of diapers. (Even the kid in college hadn’t actually
seen
anything—it was dark during our little misadventure.)

“What makes you think that?” Devon replied, equally blasé. Only I suspected
he
didn’t have to fake it.

“Because he sent me over here to get some rest, and he wouldn’t have done that if he thought you’d be here. He’s pretty protective of his private life.” And me.

“Well, since I didn’t interrupt your
rest,
where’s the harm? We can all just wait together for James to come home. It’ll give us a chance to get to know one another. I’ve been dying to meet more of his family.”

Billy stepped forward then, arm extended for a handshake. “Well, any friend of James…” he said, gripping Devon’s hand tightly enough to make him wince, and winking at me. Blast Billy. He’d just pinched some energy.

“James will be working all night,” I said, hoping Devon would take the hint and leave. “No point in waiting for him. But I’ll be sure to let him know you dropped by.” I didn’t offer my hand.

“Pity,” Devon said. “It would have been—”

“Well, gotta run,” Billy cut in. “Places to go, people to see. Dev, nice to meet you—”

“Wait just a darn minute!” I said. “You can’t go. We haven’t”—I darted a glance at Devon, then continued circumspectly—“you know, discussed that matter we were going to.”

Billy took me by the elbow and led me to the front door. “About that—listen, we’re going to have to put that on hold for now.”

“Uh-uh. No way. If you think you can just leave me here with
Baby Face,
you have another think coming,” I whispered furiously.

“Sorry, cuz,” he said, talking fast, keeping it low. “No time to waste. He might try to seduce you, though, so be on your guard. And remember, if you’re tempted, just hold that thought and come to me later. Safety first.” He tugged my hair and added, more loudly, so Devon would hear, “Good-bye, sweetheart. See you soon.” He kissed the hell out of me before I could voice any more protests, and left me reeling in the doorway.

I recovered, and ran after him. Caught him before he reached the street. Grabbed his arm and tugged until he looked at me again. Then I felt stupid, and kind of pathetic for chasing him, so I said, “I saw you grab his energy. If you ever use that aura when you’re with me, I’ll kill you. Just so you know.”

*   *   *

James’s erstwhile boyfriend was sprawled on the sofa, his beautiful lips lingering around the rim of an imported beer. To his credit, Devon had toned down his lazy fuck-me charm by the time I returned. He hadn’t turned it off completely—I suspected that wasn’t possible for him—but he no longer looked at me like it was a given we’d be in bed before the visit was over. But then maybe it hadn’t really been me he’d been anxious to romp with. Perhaps I’d just been a handy conduit to Billy. That rankled a teensy bit, but mostly I was just relieved.

Figuring I maybe ought to be civil, just in case he and James did get back together someday, I sat across from him in an overstuffed wing chair and gave up a few childhood memories. Devon seemed honestly interested in my brother, and since I wasn’t divulging anything confidential, I couldn’t see the harm in it. I was wrapped up in another of Auntie Mo’s ugly afghans (the apartment was always well chilled, no matter the season), and actually starting to feel rather comfortable in Pretty Boy’s company.

“So James wasn’t always the mad scientist he is now?” Devon said after I recounted a story about the Civil War reenactment James had set up in Central Park when we were kids. The whole extended family had been enlisted to either the Blue or the Gray, and my eight-year-old self had spent the afternoon fuming on the sidelines as a Union nurse. My brothers hadn’t thought I was big enough, or strong enough, to participate in the battle. Billy gloated at first, but then started casting pitying looks my way, which angered me to no end. James, noticing my resentment, had finally taken me up on his horse (yes, he had even rented horses for the occasion) and trotted toward the enemy line. I brandished his amazingly realistic—for cardboard—sword, and thwacked Billy over the head with it in passing. Ah, good times.

“Funny, I had the impression James was born with a test tube in one hand and a microscope in the other.” The pretty mouth wasn’t so sardonic now. In fact, it looked almost tender when he thought about James as a kid.

“Not James. He’s a real Renaissance man. Science is only his latest passion. History was the big thing when we were kids. He had a music period, too—did he tell you he plays concert piano? And guitar, and oboe, and violin, and a few weird medieval instruments I can’t remember the names of.” I suspect James tends to overcompensate for his lack of adaptor capability, but I couldn’t tell Devon that.

“No, he didn’t. Where are his instruments? I haven’t seen any around here.”

“My parents keep them at their house. Not enough room here.”

He looked around longingly. “Yeah, it’s small. But there’s something about it. I miss it.”

“Do you miss it or my brother?”

There wasn’t a trace of guile in the eyes that met mine. “I miss James. Didn’t think I would, but I do.”

“Do you love him?” I asked, flat out. Why be coy about it?

He drew his head back in surprise, and a puzzled look came over him. “I suppose I must. What an odd notion.”

I snorted. “Well, offering to dive into bed with me and Billy is a fine way of expressing it. No wonder James kicked you out, if that’s your usual modus operandi.”

His smile was that of a naughty boy caught but not expecting to get into much trouble. “Old habits. If it improves your opinion of me, I knew all along you wouldn’t take me up on the offer. I just couldn’t resist giving you a little shock. Sorry.”

“Huh. I’ll reserve my opinion for now. James is the one you have to worry about.”

He shrugged off my concern with a grin. “Worry gives you wrinkles.”

“Look, Devon—I love my brother. A lot. I don’t want to see him hurt.”

He cocked his head. “Serious little thing, aren’t you? So much like James. Well, tiny one, let me reassure you. I don’t want to see him hurt, either. That’s why I’m back—to tell him I’m willing to go for a ride on the monogamy wagon, if he’s willing to give us another chance.”

I tilted my head to one side, skeptical. “Can you do that? Just decide to stop playing the field and stick to one person, if it’s not really your nature?” (Okay, I admit my reason for asking wasn’t purely on my brother’s behalf. There’s nothing wrong with multitasking.)

“Honestly? I don’t know. I’ve never tried. But I’m going to give it a hell of a shot because James is worth it.”

Since I never could keep my mouth shut, I also asked, albeit gingerly, “Won’t it be a little more difficult for you? Because I understand your, um, playing the field, is a little bit broader than most?” There. That was delicate, right?

He laughed outright. “What
has
James been telling you? I wonder. But, no, to answer your question, being bisexual doesn’t make monogamy any more difficult, I wouldn’t think. Why should it matter which gender tempts you away from your commitment, if keeping your commitment is the important thing?”

I gave him a long, level look. Decided he sounded sincere. “You know what, Dev? I believe I’m rooting for you.”

Chapter 15

I was a woman on a mission: to avoid my mother for as long as possible, because once she had me, I was stuck until after the party. One of my rat fink brothers had given her my new cell number, so my voice mail was already getting overloaded with frantic messages. Where was I? When was I going to get there? Billy had called Mo, so why hadn’t I called her, my mother? Didn’t I care that I was worrying her into an early grave? Was I sick and afraid to tell her? Did I have a fever? Had I even
looked
at my throat? For God’s sake,
call
!

Damn.
When she started bringing God into it, I
had
to call. I knew from experience the police would be next.

She answered on the first ring. “Ciel! Are you all right? Where have you been? Why haven’t you returned my calls? And why did you change your number?”

“Hi, Mom. I, uh, accidentally dropped my cell phone in the toilet,” I mumbled, praying she’d be too bogged down with party prep to examine my excuse too closely. “It took a while to dry out.”

“Again?”

Oops. Guess I’d already used that one. “Um, yeah. You’d think I’d learn, huh?”

“Why would I think that? You kids never learn, not one of you. Why, just last week Brian’s phone fell out of his shirt pocket into his drink at the sordid little excuse for a bar he plays at—”

“Mom, listen, I’m in the middle of something. I just wanted to call and tell you I’ll be there for the party. I’ll let you know when I’m in town—” I crossed my fingers, hoping her motherly lie-detecting instincts were muffled by preparty confusion.

“
What?
You mean to tell me you’re not in town yet? The party is tomorrow, Ciel.
To-mor-row!
If you don’t—”

“I’ll be there. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be staying with Billy—” Geez, I hoped she was too busy to swing by Billy’s condo, because if she saw crime-scene tape, she’d go nuclear. I already knew the shooting couldn’t have made the news, or else I’d be having an entirely different conversation with her. “I can help him watch Molly for Auntie Mo. Boy, she’s a handful, isn’t she? I know Auntie Mo must be grateful we’re keeping that little monkey occupied for her. ’kay-bye-love-you.”

“Ciel Colleen Halligan, don’t you dare hang up on me! I need you to—”

Eek! The dreaded middle-name inclusion. If I didn’t disengage pronto, I was doomed. “Sorry, Mom, gotta go. Molly needs me … and … and I’m losing the signal. I’ll try back later,” I said, speaking more softly as I extended my arm away from my face. I felt guilty about cutting her off, but I couldn’t risk staying on the line. The longer we were connected, the more likely she’d suck the truth directly from my brain. Couldn’t risk that.

Okay, mission accomplished. I should now be able to avoid Mom’s calls right up until party time without her feeling compelled to call out the National Guard. Next up: James’s lab. I could only hope against hope he’d gotten Molly fixed overnight and simply hadn’t called to tell me yet out of some brotherly concern for my sleep.

I sipped my third cup of coffee from a travel mug as I hailed a cab outside James’s place. The first two had been consumed, along with a whole wheat bagel (bleah) smothered with enough peanut butter to drown out the healthy taste, while I washed the sheets and remade James’s bed. He might question why I bothered to do that this time when I never had before, but he couldn’t be sure of the reason. It was at least feasible for him to assume I’d matured into a more considerate houseguest.

(Okay, maybe not feasible, but better than the alternative. I mean, I couldn’t
not
wash the sheets, not without wordlessly proclaiming to my brother that I’d had sex in his bed—and believe me, that seemed a lot more sordid in the bright light of morning than it had the night before.)

Besides, I’d thought doing laundry would keep me busy enough not to think too much about whether I’d done the prudent thing buying into this relationship with Billy. He sure hadn’t stuck around long enough to reassure me, had he? But busy didn’t keep the bagel from congealing into a cold lump of buyer’s remorse in the pit of my stomach. More than anything, I wanted to run to somebody who would give me a hug and not ask questions. Unfortunately, my usual source of unquestioning hugs was Billy.

While I was waiting for a cab, a hot little gunmetal gray convertible pulled up alongside me. “Hop in,” Mark called out, his voice chipper. Well, as chipper as Mark’s voice gets, which basically meant he didn’t sound pissed. Which was nice but didn’t stop the heat from rising in my cheeks.

What could I do? I got in, put the empty mug on the floor, and prayed the breeze would cool me off before he examined me too closely. Why did I have to see him now, so soon after I’d … well, done exactly what he’d warned me against? The only explanation I could come up with was that my life is a cosmic joke. Some great, omnipotent being was getting a good laugh out of setting me up.