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So I do both. I roll my suitcase into the hallway, and I say, "You look hot in them."
"That's about as good a compliment as I can expect from a man. Thanks." She smiles. This time, it's halffuck off, halfyou're all right. Then she shakes it off and charges forward.
Straight to her brother's apartment. The one at the end of the hall.
He pulls the door open before she knocks.
She drops her suitcase and her glare and throws her arms around him. "I missed you, Jackie." She squeezes him like he's her favorite teddy bear.
All of a sudden, she's not a princess who hates me. She's a kid who craves her older brother's protection.
"Jackie? You haven't called me that in years." He hugs her back. "I missed you too." He releases her. "How was your flight?"
"Good. Except for my companion," she says.
He whispers something in her ear.
She laughs. "In your dreams. Now, where's my favorite sister-in-law." She spots Jackson's wife, Daphne, inside and runs into the apartment to greet her.
Which leaves me alone with her protective older brother.
For some reason, he's still wearing a suit. An expensive charcoal with a grey tie. It brings out his green eyes. The man looks so much like his dad, it's scary.
Actually, he looks like his dad, if his dad went into the FBI instead of joining a band, getting a lot of tattoos, and eventually retiring to a career as a record executive. (Which is absolutely Mr. Steele's idea of retirement. He "only" works forty hours a week now, and he "only" travels two weeks a quarter).
Does FBI big brother in training know what happened a decade ago? That's not theonlyreason why she hates me, but it's a big one, and it's the kind of thing that convinces older brothers to kick asses.
Even the mature, married lawyers.
The motherfucker does martial arts.
Sure enough, he stares at me with the focus of a hero in a kung fu flick. He could kill me with his bare hands. If he wanted.
But, no, he's the better person. He follows the non-violence of the practice.
He fully intends to spare me.
"How's Dad?" he asks with a calm, even voice. But then he always has a calm, even voice. The guy must be a great negotiator. He's got an intimidating poker face.
"The same as always," I say.
"How's Laurel?"
"You should ask her."
He half-smiles. That was the right answer, I guess. "And you two?"
"The same as always."
He nodsthat's what I expected. "Well, come in. The couch is made up for you."
"Thanks. I appreciate it." I offer my hand.
He looks at me funny, but he still shakes. "Don't fuck with her. Please."
"Of course."
"Thanks." He pulls me into a hug and pats me on the back.
