“Rank ’em.”
She quirked a blonde eyebrow. I elaborated. “Most favourite to least. Line them up.”
She did, putting Maltesers at the top, then a wholenut Dairy Milk, then down the line to the Snickers bar at the end.
I picked up the Maltesers. “These are your favourite?” At her still-confused nod, I opened the packet and tipped the chocolate-coated honeycomb into my mouth.
Her confusion shifted into a scowl. “You absolute jerk. I wanted those.”
“It’s an annoying-brother memory.” I took another mouthful and crunched, delighted at her expression. “I didn’t get given snacks as a kid so had no favourites. Now I do.”
She shook her head, the irritation dying. “That is both tragic and infuriating.”
I offered her the last bite. “But forgivable?”
She reached for it. I tossed it into my mouth.
The damn woman hugged me then shoved me. “I don’t know how to handle you like this.”
My gaze slipped across the room to where Lovelyn tucked her long hair behind her ear, some floral motif on her sleeve, and my heart in her hands. “Neither do I. We’re both going to have to roll with it.”
Beside Lovelyn, Genevieve stood, her phone to her ear. She listened then turned to the group. “Arran is coming back. He and Convict have the two people they went to fetch.”
Mission successful, then.
In twenty minutes, a knock at the door brought Convict into the room, a scared-looking woman with him. Pollyanna, the one person left who could give us a clue on Dixie’s whereabouts.
He led her to the women, Cassie standing to hug her, then joined me on my lean against the wall. I hadn’t wanted to intimidate her so had suggested that while they spoke, I’d stay back.
Behind them, Tyler slipped into the room but stopped in the shadows, acting the ghost he was crew-named for. Now why was he here?
Convict elbowed me. “How’s the ticking clock in the back of your mind?”
I turned to him. “The what?”
“You’ve been in the game. I have, too. The rules create a need inside you that won’t shut up. Ask me how I know.”
The rules stated winners had to have sex daily. Like that would be a problem between me and my flower girl.
I released a pained breath. “You’re talking about my sister.”
“My future wife.”
He’d said something like that before. “Seriously?”
Convict made a fist and presented it to my face, but without the threat his act implied. “Right there on my ring finger.”
The fucking idiot. He had her name tattooed on his skin. I rolled my eyes. “The kiss of death for any relationship.”
“If you were any other man, I’d deck you for that.” He gave a rascal smile. “But you’re bigger than me. So how about you take it back and accept that one day, we’ll be related.”
Fuck. He was right. We’d be brothers-in-law. For the first time, I saw a different version of a family spread out before me. A sister I cared about. A brother-in-law I could be friends with. Or at least tolerate. When I married Lovelyn, they’d be there for us.
I cleared my strangely thick throat and focused back on the women across the room. “Guess it wouldn’t be the worst thing ever.”
Convict thumped me on the back. “Reckon that’s as close as I’ll get to brotherly love. I’m glad you’re sticking around.”
I was, too. But I wasn’t about to admit that now.
