“That’s private.” He tried to grab it from her, but Annabelle danced back a few steps.
“Hope Gelderman.” Annabelle read the name on the invitation. “Who’s that, a cousin or something?”
“My sister.”
His words were flat and emotionless. Looking at him, Annabelle saw his face had closed up; his jaw was clenched, body tense and blue eyes as cool as ice. She’d never seen him look like that; he was always smiling or trying to charm someone.
“It says here the wedding is next week. When you leaving?”
“You done reading my personal mail, Smith?”
“Answer the question, Ethan.”
“I’m not going.” He turned away from her, picked up a tool and started doing something with it.
“You’re not going to your sister’s wedding?”
“I just told you that.”
He was banging something now, so she waited until he’d finished. “Why aren’t you going to your sister’s wedding?”
He was too much a gentleman to ignore her, so he put down the tool carefully then turned to face her again. “Because I’m not.”
“That’s not a reason. Give me a better one.”
“Go away, Annabelle. I’ve got work to do.”
“She’s your sister, Ethan. There has to be a reason why you won’t go.” Annabelle had two brothers who’d tried to keep stuff from her; she knew how to interrogate when required.
“Because I don’t want to.” His lips were clamped together, arms folded tight. Gone was the lover of minutes before.
“You don’t like her or something?”
“Of course I like her. She’s my sister.” His words had an edge to them now.
“Then if you like her, why won’t you go to her wedding? Surely she’ll be upset if you
don’t?”
“She’ll understand.”
There was something deep inside those bright blue eyes. Pain, anger, whatever it was, the Texan had kept it well hidden until now.
“Why will she understand that her only brother can’t attend her wedding?”
“I’m not her only brother. She has two others.”
“You have three siblings? Wow, you kept that quiet.”
“It’s nobody’s business.”
“But everyone else’s business is yours?” Annabelle kept poking and prodding at the small opening she’d started, pushing until she got the answers she wanted.
“It’s not my fault you people talk a lot.”
“We talk a lot?” She snorted. “Gelderman, you rarely have your mouth shut.”
“Whatever. Now why don’t you take that fine ass of yours out of here so I can concentrate enough to get some work done?”
