Page 24 of The Love Losers

He gives me a flat look. “What do you think? She’s already bought a shirt that says, ‘If you think I’m a bitch, you should meet my brother-in-law.’ I think it’s her way of giving me a compliment. She thinks Claire will say yes.”

Laughing, I throw my arms around him. “Are you doing it on New Year’s Eve?” I ask as he hugs me back.

“That was the plan before I knew there was a stalker on the loose,” he says, his voice gruff. “Although I’m presuming a lot by even asking. Claire could do better.”

An affronted sound escapes me, and I shove his arm again even as I hold onto him. “Don’t you dare talk about my brother that way.”

He releases me and looks down at me, his lips lifting slightly. “I won’t even be able to give Claire my real last name.”

True. James is not our real last name, but…

“James is cooler than O’Malley.”

“Dad wouldn’t like to hear you say it.”

“He’d be pleased that I’m pleased. Besides, Claire’s a modern woman, dude, and her last name is Rainey. No way does she want our boring-ass real last name. If anything, you should takehername.”

“I’ll give that some consideration,” he says with a partial smile, then feels the need to add, “We still need to be careful, Rosie.”

I wave this warning aside. “You’ve always wanted us to be careful about everything.”

“Because I wasn’t careful when it counted.”

Our uncle was a crime boss in Pennsylvania. Declan worked for him, but he wanted out. So after our uncle died, we changed our last name and acquired some very expensive and airtight false identities. All the better to hide from his predecessors or the leeches who used to work for him.

Our uncle has been dead for years now, but Declan still worries that someone might come looking for us.

But he’s starting to embrace the idea of having a life—a real life, and not just an existence of waiting around for the other shoe to drop.

I’m grateful as hell for that.

I’m also aware that my background is problematic. It’s the reason I probably can’t solve Anthony’s problem by marrying him myself.

People won’t poke at Declan’s marriage to Claire. They won’t worry at it like a dog worries at a bone. But when a multi-million dollar trust fund is at stake, they’re far more likely to do a deep dive. They might even ask for fingerprints as part of the background check, which would be a complete and total no-go for me. Better to avoid the possibility altogether.

“I’m happy for you,” I tell him through a tight throat. “You deserve to be happy.”

“She hasn’t said yes yet.” When he glances through the door at Claire, his whole face lights up. It’s the same way he looks when he walks into his greenhouse or sees a plant he’s been tending come into bloom.

“She will, though.” I’m surprised by the tinge of sadness I feel when I say it. My brother’s going to get the happy ending he deserves, and his bad luck will be a thing of the past. I’d like my bad luck to burn to ash too, but I feel it still writhing inside of me, waiting to pull me down.

Maybe if you’ve lost at love enough times, you’re a love loser. Someone who can’t get it together even if it’s presented to you as a ten-piece children’s puzzle—or an attractive, wealthy bachelor in want of a wife.

“You’re up to something,” my brother says, snapping me out of my head.

I smile at him. “Always.”

Declan sighs. “Do me a favor and be careful.”

“Of course I will,” I lie.

Because, truthfully, I have no idea what I’m doing…but that’s the way I prefer it. All I know is that I feel the beginning of something—a plant, lifting its green shoots above soil.

But I’m not like my brother, who can grow anything. My plants are usually crushed.

That’s what I’m thinking about when I glance back at the glass door and see Nicole staring at me.

She winks.

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