LITMIR.BIZ

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      “Sorry. Another hazard of living alone, I spend way too much time in my own head. And it can get kind of creepy in there.”

      “Tell me about it,” Tyler muttered as they pulled into her driveway. From his house, they could hear Boomer barking. “Dumb mutt recognizes the sound of my car.”

      “Which would make him not dumb at all. Confused, though, since it’s in the wrong spot.”

      “You’re probably right.”

      And that should have been where she got out of the truck, he switched from her driveway to his and that was that. A total nonevent.

      Not their facing each other at the same moment and her saying, “Wanna get a hamburger or something? My treat.”

      The music stopped. The dog kept barking, barking, barking...

      “Uh...it’s only three o’clock?”

      “Oh.” Laurel mentally slapped herself. And not only for not knowing what time it was. “Of course, you’re right. But tell that to this...my stomach.”

      “Actually,” he said—very gently, like the way you talk to the crazy woman, “I gotta get back to work for a little bit—”

      “Of course, sorry—”

      “No, it’s okay. Another time, though?”

      “Sure, absolutely.” She climbed out of the truck as gracefully as she could, which wasn’t saying much, and shut the door.

      Tyler leaned across the gearshift to talk to her through the open window. “But I’ll still start taking down the fence this evening. You don’t have to be around or anything. If the noise gets too loud, though, let me know—”

      “I’ll do that,” she said, backing away, suddenly anxious to get back to her own safe little space, where she could coddle her embarrassment without witnesses. “Thanks. For everything.”

      With a little wave, he pulled out of her driveway, and Laurel mustered whatever vestige of dignity she had left to sedately walk across her yard and up her steps.

      Instead of, you know, bolting like a freaked-out rabbit.

      * * *

      “Jeez, what’s with the frowny face?”

      With a grunt, Tyler walked past his sister Abigail, sitting cross-legged on the dusty warehouse floor as she sanded flaking black paint off a late-nineteenth-century, wrought-iron chandelier, which she’d then refinish and slap up on eBay...and probably resell for ten times what they paid for it. Naturally, she got up and followed him to the office, a blond terrier in a ponytail and combat boots.

      “So did you get the blocks and stuff for the wall?” He threw her a look. “I think that’s called an opening gambit,” Abby said, and he grunted again. “Oooh...frowns and grunts?” She planted her skinny butt on the crappy folding chair across from his equally crappy metal desk. This was a salvage company, not some chi-chi Manhattan office. “Intriguing. But God forbid you clue me in.”

      He caught the edge to her voice, tossed it aside. Whatever was going on inside his aching head—and right now, he couldn’t explain it even if he wanted to—it was none of his sister’s business.

      “Back off, Abs,” Ty said, reaching for a bottle of pain reliever in his desk. He dumped out a couple of pills, tossing them back without water. With a pushed-out sigh, Abs got to her feet; a moment later he heard the water cooler’s glug-glug as she filled a paper cup.

      “Here,” she said, handing him the cup, which he drained.

      “Anything of interest happen while I was gone?”

      “Not really. Couple of lookie-loos. One couple redoing their house, though, looking for some vintage stuff. I think they’ll be back.” She paused, her gaze sharpening in a way that put Tyler on immediate alert. “The bank called.”

      Crap. “Oh?”

      “Yeah.” His sister crossed her arms over a paint-blotched T-shirt that emphasized how uncurvy she was. “Why didn’t you tell me you tried to renegotiate the loan?”

      Tyler sighed. “Meaning they said no, I take it.”

      “I don’t know, they wouldn’t tell me. Since you didn’t include me from the get-go—”

      “I was putting out feelers, Abs. That’s all. To see if it was even feasible. I didn’t sign anything, so it’s not like I left your name off—”

      “No, you just left me out. As usual. I thought we were supposed to be partners? I mean, are we having trouble making the payments? Not that I’d know, since when I tried to get into the accounting program, you’d changed the password.”

      Tyler frowned. “I changed that password a month ago. And I told you the new one. Which you obviously never tried to use.”

      Her mouth thinned. “Maybe I didn’t think I needed to. Because I trusted you.”

      “Or because, as you’ve said countless times, you hate numbers.”

      “I hate going to the dentist, too, but I deal. And I have a right to know what’s going on. Without having to look it up for myself in some cockamamie computer program that makes my eyes cross. Dammit, Ty—I’ve worked every bit as hard as you to get this place up and running! Invested every bit as much in it, too! Emotionally and financially!”

      And those pain meds could kick in anytime now. “I know you have, honey. Which is why I didn’t want to say anything until there was something to say. I didn’t want to worry you—”

      “Because...you didn’t think I could handle it, what?”

      “So sue me for wanting to protect you—”

      “I don’t need to be protected, I need to be included! And not only when it suits you, dumbbutt. But why am I wasting my breath? Since you never have, not really. Hell, none of you have—”

      “What are you talking about?”

      “You, Ethan, Matt, even Bree...it’s like the four of you are all in this secret club or something, because you’re all adopted and I’m not. And I’m the baby. So double whammy, right?”

      Tyler almost laughed, which only got him more glaring from his sister. “If it makes you feel any better, we don’t share much with each other, either. Except for maybe Sabrina and Matt, because they’re twins. But the rest of us...” He shook his head. “Trust me, you’re not missing out.”

      Breathing hard, Abby kept her gaze glued to his for several seconds, then marched back to the cooler to get her own cup of water, which she downed in three swallows. “You know what?” She crumpled the tiny paper cup, slam-dunking it into the garbage can by Ty’s desk. “You’re right,” she said, sounding a little less steamed. “Because this whole family’s a bunch of emotional retards, aren’t we?”

      “What?”

      “No, it’s true. We all talk at each other, but nobody talks to anybody. Not really. Well, I don’t know about Matt, now that he’s got Kelly and the kids, maybe he’s loosened up a bit. I hope so, anyway, for their sakes.” She sighed. “And I get it, that simply because we’re family, that doesn’t mean we’re obligated to talk about our innermost feelings and all that crap. And I’m every bit as guilty of that as the rest of you. But...”

      Planting her hands on the desk, Abby leaned forward. “This is supposed to be a partnership. So no more keeping secrets about the business, or I’m outta here.” She straightened, her arms crossed. “Got that?”

      Tyler kept his smile under wraps, that the toddler who used to follow him around like a puppy—when he was a hard-assed adolescent who definitely did not want some baby tagging along behind him—had turned into such a fierce little thing. He also knew

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