Page 16 of The Pocket Pair

Which led me to Val.

Which led me to my current feverish situation, where I don’t understand what’s going on with me as I watch Val over the balcony railing.

I definitely can’t explain any of that to James Graham.

“Let’s just say … the date ended before dinner started.”

He only grunts at this, but it sure as heck sounds like a grunt of disapproval. I choose to ignore it. Did I ask him for dating advice? I most certainly did not. From what I understand, James didn’t really have relationships before Winnie, so it’s not like he’s in a position to give any sort of nuggets of dating wisdom or pass moral judgment on me.

He clears his throat. “I need to talk to you.”

“About my dating life?”

“No.” When he frowns at me, my stomach bottoms out. Because I think I know what he’s going to ask—to marry my sister.

And I know what I’ll say. Yes. Obviously, yes.

But the thought of my sister getting married turns me inside out. And not for the usual reasons a brother might feel that way.

No, I’ve got dear old Dad to thank for my hang-ups.

See, when you’re just a teenager and discover the man you’ve always admired, the man who appeared to love your mama selflessly while she battled cancer, who was there for you after she died—that man had a whole other family in another town, some part of you dies. The part that has faith in relationships. In other people. In the institution of marriage.

The one saving grace is that Mama never knew. She died thinking he was the man I thought him to be. I kept his secrets. Not for him. But to protect Mama and my sister. In doing so, in bottling this all up, my hope in all things pertaining to romantic love soured. And knowing that I share my father’s same DNA … I’m scared to test the limits of my own ability to commit.

The idea that Winnie, who found out about all this after our dad died, is ready to take this step—well, it’s huge. I’m not sure if I’m scared for her or jealous she was able to place her trust in any person. I can’t even trust myself.

Or maybe she’s the one who needed the pregnancy test and this conversation is about something other than marriage.

I’m hit with a sudden pang of longing. Mama would have wanted to be here for this. Planning a wedding for Winnie—or a baby shower, depending on where this conversation goes—would have made her whole life.

Only … Mama died a decade too soon to be here for it. Loss squeezes inside me like some creeping vine.

Who will do all that for Winnie? Who will help her plan and try on dresses and all that mother-daughter stuff? Maybe Lindy and Val and Mari? Heck, I’ll even go with my sister to try on dresses or look at flowers.

But no one can replace having Mama.

“I’m going to ask Winnie to marry me,” James says.

Even though I was expecting them, his words leave me breathless. I blink. Swallow. Blink again. My thoughts are a file cabinet that’s been upended, every folder opened and every paper scattered.

“Even if your father”—he says this word with a sneer—“were still alive, you’d be the one I asked.” James’s jaw clenches. He’s one of the select few who know all about my dad. I knew Winnie must really love James when I found out she told him the truth.

My chest still feels tight, and I hate not having an uncomplicated response to this. Like, oh, I don’t know—happiness.

I go for humor, always my fallback. Placing a hand over my chest, I say, “Aw, Jamie. Is this your roundabout way of asking for my blessing?”

“Yes.”

Only James Graham would think telling me he’s going to propose is asking me for my blessing. The man is never off-brand.

“Have you got a ring?”

The look he shoots me says I’m an idiot to think he’s that much of an idiot. He pats the pocket of his jeans. “I’ve had it for weeks now. Just wanted to wait to talk to you, and for the right moment.”

James is more far gone for my sister than I even realized. Winnie needs a James—the kind of man who would cross continents or fight wars for her. But a man who can also be tender with a woman who pretends like she doesn't need tenderness. James is the unlikely embodiment of both.

“Our parents didn’t leave us much,” I confess. “So, there’s no wedding money set aside. I can always help with—”

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