LITMIR.BIZ

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I have to present my ideas at the interview. And I’m having a blast pulling it together.”

      “Maybe tourism is a better fit for you than you thought.”

      “Maybe.” She flicked off the light and led him into the hall. “It’s been a while since I got to tap into my creative side. I still have to do the analytics, but I’m having way too much fun designing mock-ups of web pages and brochures.”

      “Can I see them?”

      “Really?”

      “Sure.” He took the bucket from her hand, allowing himself one fleeting moment of contact. “I feel like I have a stake in this, too.”

      “I guess you do. Maybe Millie should call you Mr. Headhunter.”

      He’d been called worse.

      She took a side trip at the bottom of the stairs and hovered at the door to what must be the fun porch, given the number of toys and bins stacked on the shelves. Millie and Cady sat on the floor, happily applying stickers to each other’s faces and arms.

      “Oh God,” Heather said, but there was no true dismay in her voice. “And I thought the paint was bad.”

      “Stickers come off easy.”

      “Here’s hoping.” She raised her voice. “Mills, no more decorating the guest, okay?”

      “’Kay, Mom.”

      Cady leaned across the basket of stickers and carefully placed one over Millie’s mouth before breaking into giggles.

      Xander was pretty sure he should say something parental. “Cady, don’t be mean to your...um...semicousin.”

      Something that sounded like strangled snorts emerged from behind Millie’s mouth covering.

      “Come on,” Heather said with a laugh. “Let’s get out of here before they start slapping stuff on us.”

      She led him to the living room, pausing at a coffee table piled high with books, papers and art supplies. In contrast to the rest of the house, the only word to describe it was chaos.

      “How do you find anything in that?”

      “Easy. I know where everything is.” She shot him an impish grin. “Now turn around while I demonstrate how well I know the locations.”

      He snickered but did as requested, rotating to face a line of photos marching across the top of a bookcase. Since he’d been banished, he figured he might as well take advantage of the opportunity to do some snooping in plain sight.

      The bulk of the shots, of course, were of Millie. He saw her in a number of poses: dressed up as a mad scientist, wearing a parka and a red reindeer nose, showing off a front-toothless grin. There were some of Millie and Heather together, usually in a garden. One of Heather with a group of women he would bet were her coworkers. And one of Millie, Heather and a gaunt man who shared Heather’s caramel hair and Millie’s slightly pointed chin.

      “Is this a brother?”

      He felt, rather than saw, her approach from behind. “Yes. Travis.”

      “Older or younger?”

      “Three years older.”

      There was a guarded quality to her responses that had his curiosity piqued. “Where does he live?”

      “It varies.”

      That was a “go no further” answer if ever he heard one. He risked a sideways glance and saw that she was holding herself rigidly, arms clasped tight over a notebook squashed against her chest.

      Lucky book.

      “Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to give you the third degree.” He pointed to the shot of her with a group of women. “Are these people you work with?”

      “Used to. They’re in the Vancouver office. And it’s okay, you weren’t prying. It’s just...” She fingered the edge of the book. “Travis...my brother...the thing is, the only time I’m sure where he is, is when he’s, um, in jail.”

      Holy shit.

      Two things struck him at once. The first was that now he got why Heather never flinched when he mentioned his time in the slammer.

      The second was that this was the first time he’d ever seen her uncomfortable. And he wasn’t quite sure why. Surely she knew that he, of all people, wasn’t about to judge her brother.

      “He have a long history with the prison system?”

      “Since he was a teenager.”

      Long enough.

      “I didn’t run into him, if that’s what’s bothering you.”

      “I—oh. No. I hadn’t thought about that.”

      Yeah, she had.

      “We don’t talk a lot. That was the last time I saw him.” She nodded toward the photo. “It’s the only time he met Millie. He always wants to know about her, though. I guess in most ways he’s your typical adoring uncle.”

      “Can’t blame him.”

      Her smile was small but grateful. “He does his best,” she said softly, and Xander was pretty sure she wasn’t talking about Millie anymore. At least, not Millie alone.

      “I don’t have any brothers,” he said, trying to ease the tightness around her eyes. “Just Bethie, and she’s almost seven years older than me.”

      “So you were the baby. Were you the prince?”

      “Nah. I was too much of a troublemaker for that. Mostly I was the easy target when Beth didn’t want to own up to something.”

      “That, I can believe.”

      A squeal from the other side of the house caught his attention, but as it was followed by a shriek of laughter, he was pretty sure Cady was fine. “How about you? Were you the princess?”

      She snorted. “Oh please.”

      Yeah, he didn’t think so.

      “So do I get to see your work now?”

      “Oh, right. I forgot.” Heather rolled her eyes and thrust the notebook in his direction. He took it automatically. Awkwardly, too, as he’d been so busy not letting himself look right at her. She pulled back a bit too fast, he grabbed again and his hand ended up closing over her wrist.

      For a second they stood frozen, his fingers circling her wrist and her eyes wide. He saw surprise on her face, yes, but more. There was uncertainty and a hint of what sure looked like pleasure to him.

      Though maybe that was just his own emotions reflecting back at him.

      “Heather,” he began, only to be cut off by the shrill tone of the doorbell.

      Heather startled and stepped back.

      “The pizza!” That came from Millie, who had to be setting a new land speed record for racing from one end of the house to the other. Cady followed in her wake.

      “Pizzi! Pizzi! Daddy! Pizzi!”

      Heather patted her pocket. “I can’t believe I forgot. I placed the order before we started painting, just in case we got caught up in it, but I totally lost track of time and...”

      She was nervous. Because he had touched her? Because she didn’t want him touching her, even by accident?

      Or could it be the same reason his own senses had jumped to long-deprived life the moment his skin made contact with hers?

      “Mom! Are you gonna come pay? Because I’m hungry.” Millie appeared, clutching the pizza box in front of her. “Mr. Sorenson, you and Cady can sit at the table while Mom pays. And maybe you could help me get some, because I always grab the piece with

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