“But you’re really smart.”
“You’re really smart too.”
“I can’t fix a computer when it crashes.”
“I can’t fix a dress when it tears or make a tutu.” Becky’s eyes narrowed. “This is why you thought I was in love withhim? Because you have some misplaced idea that to be happy people need to be clones of each other?”
“Maybe. A little. Declan and I hit a bit of a difficult patch over the last few weeks—misunderstandings, nothing more, and I started wondering if I was just the wrong person for him. If he was wishing he’d married someone like you instead.” Rosie gave Becky a quick summary of everything that had happened. Saying it all aloud, she was suddenly conscious of how many of her problems originated from paying too much attention to her overactive imagination.
Becky shook her head. “I didn’t know you were having problems. Why didn’t you talk to me? Now I feel even more terrible that I wasn’t there for you.”
“Don’t blame yourself. I probably wouldn’t have talked to you about it anyway.”
“Of course you would. You talk about everything. I envy that.”
“Not this.” Rosie swallowed. “I couldn’t talk about Declan. It was too—personal. It would have felt disloyal. The person I needed to talk to was him, but I didn’t know how to get him to open up.” She saw the flash of frustration in her sister’s eyes.
“I can’t believe Declan went into shutdown mode. When he started dating you, I told himmake sure you talk to her properly. He assured me he would. Does this mean I have to kill him?”
“Please don’t. I really like him.” Rosie pushed her hands into her pockets. “And we’re figuring out this whole communication challenge. Our different styles. I was at fault too. My creative brain spins scenarios that aren’t there. I overthink everything.”
“No, really? I didn’t know that about you.” Becky grinned then reached out and squeezed Rosie’s arm. “He adores you. I don’t know much, but I know that.”
“Yes.” Rosie thought about the night before and felt her cheeks grow hot. She couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d touched her. The things he’d said to her in the depths ofthe night as they’d explored and shared, their intimacy played out under the soft spill of silver light from the Christmas tree. “He does love me.”
“And you need to stop thinking you’re wrong for him. I can assure you Declan and I would drive each other crazy within two minutes.”
“That’s probably true.” Rosie thought about it. “He squeezes the toothpaste tube from the middle.”
Becky shuddered. “That’s grounds for divorce in my book.”
Rosie grinned. “And he never finishes a cup of tea. By the end of the day there will be six half-drunk cold mugs of tea around the place.”
“He did the same thing in the office. Which confirms we would be a match made in hell. Although I think I already knew that.”
“Which brings us to the next part of this catch-up,” Rosie said. “Will. So your relationship started out fake, and now—?”
Becky groaned. “Now it’s a horrible mess. Which sums up my whole romantic life. He stepped in to help me because he’s a good friend. He did it for me. He acted a part.”
Rosie thought about what she’d witnessed.
“Are you sure that’s what it was? Because I saw the way he kissed you yesterday and that didn’t look to me like a man who was acting a part. He looked like a man who couldn’t keep his hands off you. Are you telling me that wasn’t real? Because from where I was standing it looked real.”
“The fact that he’s a good kisser is real. The chemistry is real enough.” Becky huddled deeper inside her coat, hiding her scarlet face. “Nothing else was.”
“But last night—”
“We slept together. Blame the chemistry. Or the magic of Christmas. I don’t know. It doesn’t really matter. We’re both consenting adults. It happens. Impulse. Spur of the moment.”
Rosie tilted her head. “Will has never struck me as a guy atthe mercy of his impulses. He has always been very cool and controlled. Which is actually very sexy.”
“Okay, whatever, but we both know sex doesn’t have to mean love.”
Rosie studied her sister’s expression and saw something she’d never seen before. “But youdolove him.” She wondered why she was even asking the question when the answer was so obvious.
“Yes.” Becky gave her a helpless look, as if it was something she was just coming to terms with herself. “How did that happen? I’ve known Will forever. Last year I spent weeks at his place, helping to decorate his house. I didn’t feel anything other than friendship. Or maybe I did. I wanted to punch his girlfriend for being—I don’t know—his girlfriend, I suppose. That might have been a sign. How can I be so clueless about my own feelings?” She sounded so frustrated Rosie almost smiled.
“When did you work it out?”
