Page 96 of Sweet Thing

“Sounds serious.”

“Oh, it is.” Damn. “I didn’t mean?—”

“No, I know.”

But I wanted to mean it. I knew it wasn’t realistic, but I wanted him to know this relationship was important to me. Even if all that was left from the rubble was an awkward friendship and my broken heart.

I changed the subject. “So you went shopping with Mabel? Do anything else?”

“Went to the gym so I could stay limber during my suspension. Tara watched Mabel.”

“I could have done that.”

He shook his head. “You need time off. But I had an interesting chat with your brother.”

“Hatch?”

“Basically grilled me about you.”

That threw cold water over my domestic fantasy. “What did he say?”

“He just wanted to know why I’d come to your defense against MacFarlane. Sounded like my least favorite D-man’s accusations about my wicked intentions had finally hit home. Guess he needed to think on it awhile.”

“And what did you say?”

He sighed. “That looking out for you was a no-brainer. Listen, your brother is understandably protective of you.”

“Understandably?”

“In the way any male family member is protective of a female family member.” He frowned at my sour expression. “What am I missing here?”

“I’m just tired of being considered fragile enough to need protection.”

He took my hand. “You’re a girl in a family of boys. From an evolutionary biology standpoint, that’s hard to fight. But it sounds like there’s more.”

“Oh, there’s always more!”

He settled back on the sofa and pulled me into his arms. “Then tell me. So I can learn and not be such a hard ass when it comes to protecting Mabel.”

I rubbed a hand along his chest. “I doubt anything I say will change that.”

He nuzzled his lips along my temple, giving me space to sort through my emotions.

“When I was a kid, I wasn’t good at sports. Hatch was already there, the heir in waiting, but I think my dad wanted to raise a family of genetically enhanced superstars.”

“His own hockey team, huh?”

“Right. But I was clearly the weak link. Clumsy, uncoordinated, not champion material.”

His hand rubbed my arm, soothing in all the right ways. He didn’t jump in and invalidate my feelings, and I almost wished he had so I could put a mark in the Lars con column.

“Once the twins were born, I think Dad was relieved he didn’t have to encourage me to be sporty. He could move on to the kids who would be successful.” I sighed. “I’ve always felt a bit different from them. I like books and art and music. Conor used to joke I must be adopted.”

“That had to hurt.”

“A bit. You said your dad gave you a hard time when you didn’t measure up. My family didn’t give me a hard time. Not entirely. I did it to myself, I suppose.”

“We’re our own worst enemies.”

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