“Hey!” My brother-in law’s face appeared on the screen behind my sister. “I’m a man. I pick my own damn clothes. I just like the ones you like because when I wear them it makes you hot for me.” He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his face against her neck, making her smile and turn into him.
“Jeez, get a room.”
“We’ve got a whole house of rooms,” said Scott, nuzzling my sister’s cheek one last time before squeezing in beside her on the couch. “It doesn’t matter. There are kids in every one of them.”
“Unless you’ve picked up a few alongside the road, that’s a gross exaggeration.” I stroked Brick’s head, and he exhaled, relaxing even deeper into the sofa.
“You spend the weekend with them and tell me they’re not everywhere. Actually, that’s not a bad idea. For science.” He turned to face my sister, who was already shaking her head.
“You’re kidding, right?” She bumped him with her shoulder. “They’ll mount a crossbow to the roof, and Jake will help them work out the math for the trajectory.”
I wanted to protest but as soon as my brother-in-law mentioned it, I’d been thinking about the cool things I could build with my nephews. Some of which, on closer examination, might lead to felonies.
“We’ll set rules. No explosives or anything that requires bail or Urgent Care.”
“Pick a weekend and I’m there,” I said before my sister could object again. I’d always wanted to try my hand at a primitive robot. That should fit within Scott’s rules, and my nephews would have a blast working on it.
“Sex in a hotel,” said Scott, squeezing Amanda until she giggled. “Brilliant.”
“Dude, that’s my sister,” I said, putting a little extra disgust in my voice.
At the sound of the laughter and my change in tone, Brick crept up my chest, as stealthily as a fifty-pound block of muscle could, and licked my chin.
“You got a dog.” My brother-in-law grinned. “I heard Mandy going on about a good boy. I thought she was talking about you.”
“Asshole. Do you want me to watch your kids or not?” It was a hollow threat. Part of my mind was already anxious to get off the phone and start working on possible robot plans.
“Yes. Yes. I take it back. He looks like a great buddy. Is he a rescue?”
“Yep.” I ruffled the dog’s ears and, content that any potential conflict had passed, he slid back into his original spot.
“Lucky guy. Lucky for both of you, I guess.” He leaned in closer to the screen. “Hey, I meant to thank you for your help with that algorithm. It made a huge difference with the way our sales funnel works. My boss noticed, and I looked like a superhero.”
“Happy to help.”
“So who’s trying to pick out your clothes?” he asked, dragging the conversation back to a direction I was content to forget.
“His girlfriend/not girlfriend,” said my sister, bumping his shoulder with hers and grinning.
“Dude.”
Scott stretched out the single-syllable word, imbuing it with what I was sure was extra meaning.
“Which means what? Too much? No big deal?” I didn’t want to guess this time and risk getting it wrong. My brain already felt super itchy and despite the wealth of puppy cuddles, which helped quite a lot, I still felt a little raw.
“I mean you’re not exactly a GQ guy—not all of us can hit that standard.” Beside him, my sister rolled her eyes hard. “But I assume she knows that about you. She didn’t act embarrassed or anything when you took her out?”
Fuck. There was no way I was going to explain that Elena and I had never been out on an actual date. Amanda would never let me live it down, and I’d lose any chance I had of getting answers to my question.
“Please tell me you didn’t wear a superhero T-shirt.” My sister looked as if she might crawl through the screen if I answered incorrectly.
“I did not wear a superhero T-shirt.” I feigned insult to avoid answering more questions about what I wore on a date we hadn’t been on.
“If appearances are important to her, she might just be trying to make things easier for you.” Amanda tipped her head to the side to consider something.
“Or she might be a control freak, and you should run. Ouch,” Scott said, flinching as my sister elbowed him in the side.
“Whichever one it is,” Amanda cut her gaze at her husband, presumably to stop him from offering any other advice. “You deserve to be with a woman who understands how awesome you are. Who knows the way your brain works is magic, not a deficit, and who doesn’t make you feel like less because of it. Only you know whether she’s that person.”
