LITMIR.BIZ

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awful. She didn’t tell us that or make it obvious, but we could tell. We used to tease Ronan about being a mama’s boy. She was always fussing over him. They were the closest. Even in high school, they talked all the time.”

      He remembered ragging on his brother. How Ronan had said it was because he was the superior brother. All good fun. Elaine had been there for all of them, so knowing Ronan was the one she loved just a little bit more hadn’t meant much. He’d figured it was something every group of siblings went through.

      “After Dad told the twins, they left. Packed up everything and relocated to Happily Inc.”

      Shelby smiled. “I’ve heard of that place. It’s outside of Palm Desert, right? A wedding-destination town. It’s supposed to be lovely, in the mountains, with an underground spring and—” She stopped and sighed. “Sorry, I was momentarily distracted. I blame the margarita.”

      Her humor faded. “Wait a minute. I’m just now processing. Ceallach told the twins about Ronan and who he was and that was it? He didn’t tell your mom that he’d told the twins the truth and he didn’t tell you or your other brothers, either?”

      “Not until last summer. We figured they’d gone to Happily Inc. to get away from Dad and pursue their art. No one thought anything of it.”

      “But what about them? How are they? They were twins for what, twenty-five years, and they suddenly find out they’re not? Poor Ronan, to find out he’s not who he thought. That the woman he thought of as his mother isn’t. Has he met his biological mom? Are he and Elaine okay? Do you guys talk about this stuff now?”

      He held up his hands in the shape of a T. “I’m willing to do the girl thing today, but you have to take it slow, okay? Not so many questions.”

      To be honest, he didn’t have any answers. Mostly because he’d never really thought about the situation from Ronan’s perspective. When he and Del and Nick had found out last fall, they’d had to deal with who Ronan was, or wasn’t. Not that having a different mother made any difference in the siblings’ relationship. They were brothers and they would always be brothers.

      “Sorry. I’m just shocked. Poor Ronan. That had to have been tough for him. And Mathias. I mean they were a team. Special by virtue of being twins. Now that’s gone forever.”

      “There’s a cheerful thought.”

      “But it’s true.”

      Not something he wanted dwell on, he thought to himself. Families were complicated—his more so than most. At least that was his impression. Maybe not. Maybe everyone else was dealing with the same level of crap.

      “Do you and Nick ever talk about it?” she asked.

      “No.”

      “Because you’re men and men don’t have those kinds of conversations?”

      He nodded and picked up the pitcher to fill their glasses.

      “Maybe it would help.”

      He finished pouring and put down the pitcher. “There’s not a problem.”

      “Of course there is. Are you seriously going to tell me that your two brothers taking off like that is okay?”

      She had a point, not that he wanted to admit it. “Mathias and Ronan have each other. I worry more about Nick.”

      The words were unexpected and made him want to swear. Where had they come from?

      “Why?” she asked gently.

      Hell. “Because he’s not as happy as he seems. He’s working as a manager at The Man Cave, but in his spare time he’s hiding out in his secret art studio. I know he’s doing all kinds of things up there, but he won’t talk about it. He doesn’t want Dad to know. God knows what the great Ceallach would say. How he would be pissed and bring Nick down. Yes, he wants his son to be an artist, but not one better than him.”

      Shelby put her hand on his arm. “You should talk to Nick.”

      “No.”

      “It would help.”

      “No.”

      “You’re so stubborn. Guys need love, too.”

      “Is this really what women do when they get together?”

      “Uh-huh. We talk about our problems and our feelings. It’s cathartic.”

      “It’s a nightmare.”

      She smiled. “You’ll get used to it.”

      “If I do, I’ll start to grow breasts.”

      The smile broadened. “That’s very sexist of you.”

      “I’m okay with that.”

      She laughed and took another chip. Conversation shifted to the upcoming Cabin Fever Days and the ice sculptures taking shape in the park.

      Later, when they’d left the bar and gone their separate ways, Aidan told himself that while he could go his whole life without having another afternoon like that, he had to admit talking about stuff was kind of good. He felt...relieved somehow. Not that he would share that piece of information with anyone. Ever.

       CHAPTER FIVE

      NEARLY A WEEK LATER, Shelby found herself back at Jo’s Bar, but under very different circumstances. Instead of sitting across from a surprisingly chatty Aidan, she was with her girlfriends for lunch. She sat next to her very pregnant sister-in-law, who kept shifting in her chair.

      “I can’t get comfortable,” Destiny admitted when Shelby asked if she was all right. “Some days are harder than others. I can’t believe I still have a few weeks to go. I’m so huge.”

      From across the table, Isabel eyed her warily. “Please stop saying that. I’m going to be that big times three. All I want to hear is how wonderful you feel and how great every second is.”

      Destiny sipped her hot lemon water. “I’ve never felt better. It’s nothing. You’ll be fine.”

      Isabel sighed. “Thank you for lying.”

      “Anytime.”

      Taryn, perfectly dressed as always in a leather and wool suit and ridiculously high-heeled boots, pointed to the plate of cookies Shelby had brought to the lunch.

      “Are those as good as they look?” she asked warily.

      “I hope so.” Shelby’s voice was cheerful. “I can’t believe how great the response had been. People are going crazy for the ice-sculpture cookies.”

      “You shouldn’t be surprised,” Madeline told her. “It was a great idea. We get so many tourists coming in for the festival. Who doesn’t love looking at the amazing carvings, all done in ice? To be able to buy cookies that look like them is fun.”

      Shelby appreciated the compliment. Being a part of the bakery was still new to her. She wanted to get it right all the time. Not possible, she knew, but it was nice that her ideas had been successful so far.

      “I’ve heard from a few more of the artists,” she said. “They want cookies for next year. And a couple of people have placed orders to have cookies shipped to them at home.”

      Felicia, the woman in charge of the festivals, looked at her. “You could start a mail-order business at the bakery. You already have a website. It wouldn’t take much to expand it.”

      “I’ve been playing around with the idea,” Shelby admitted. “I need to get all my thoughts together and have more information before I talk to Amber about it.”

      There would be start-up costs, of course, but not that many. Still, she wasn’t sure what Amber would say. Her business partner hadn’t been convinced

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