Her words rushed together, “You’re a good guy.” Her voice was husky, her throat and lungs tight. “I haven’t known many of those, but it seems fair that a good guy should get the girl.” A girl that’s not me. She nodded at the door leading into the bar. “I know Toben is related to you, but I’m pretty sure you’re the better man here.”
His smile was back, his posture easing as he asked, “What does helping me mean, exactly?”
“Working on your technique?” She shrugged.
He snorted. “There’s nothing wrong with my technique,” he argued.
“Maybe, maybe not. I haven’t seen any.” She laughed as he scowled at her. “We’ll see—when you’re ready.”
“Oh, I’m ready.” His answer was quick. “My technique is just fine.”
“Fisher,” Toben called out. “We need another player. You game?”
“In a sec,” he answered, glancing at the end of the bar. “I’ll ask Shawn about helping me out with the parade—”
Kylee’s gaze followed his. Shawn was asleep, his face pillowed on his arms. It was almost one and they’d had a long day. No wonder he was wiped out. Once he was asleep, waking him up wasn’t easy.
“I’m thinking he’s too big for you to carry to bed,” Fisher said.
“I can do it,” she insisted. But he was too big for her to carry. And then there was the matter of the twenty paying customers who were still her responsibility.
“I don’t mind, Kylee,” Fisher asserted.
She shook her head, rubbing Shawn’s back to wake him up. When Shawn didn’t move, she admitted defeat. She looked at Fisher, saw his smile and smiled in return. “That would be nice, Fisher, thank you.” She pulled her key out of her pocket and handed it over. “Shawn, Fisher’s gonna take you home, okay?” She and Fisher exchanged another smile at Shawn’s muffled grunt. When Fisher scooped her little brother up, Shawn barely stirred. “Can you get the door and hold him?”
“Think so.” Fisher acted like Shawn weighed nothing. And her little brother looked so small cradled against the wall of Fisher’s chest. Fisher smiled down at Shawn, nodding at the sketchbook on the bar. “He’s gonna want that.”
He would. He’d panic if he woke up without it. Fisher knew how important Shawn’s drawings were to him. More than that, Fisher regarded Shawn with genuine affection. The kind of affection her little brother wanted and deserved.
She stared up at Fisher. She knew he was strong. His chest was broad and his thickly muscled arms cradled Shawn. But his strength came from the inside. He was every bit a real man—while remaining kind and gentle. A kind and gentle man who made her ache deep down inside.
“Kylee?” he asked, his voice low.
She needed to stop looking at him, stop feeling these feelings...
“Can I get a drink down here?” a customer called to her.
“I got him.” Fisher carried Shawn through the Employees Only door.
She filled a pitcher for the customer and cleared off the bar, her mind racing. It was important that she understood the difference between friendship and a romantic relationship. Just because Fisher was being nice to her didn’t mean he was looking for more from her. If she was overreacting to him, supersensitive to him, it was because she’d never been in this situation before. She’d never had a male friend, she’d never wanted one before. But, try as she might, she couldn’t dismiss that she was grappling with something more than friendship.
“He’s out.” Fisher reappeared. “Barely moved when I put him on the bed.”
“Thanks.” She nodded, working hard to keep herself calm and collected. “I appreciate it.”
“Looks nice in there.” He smiled. “You painted?”
She nodded. She’d left the windows cracked to air out the fumes. She could only hope the window screens were in decent enough shape to keep creepy crawlers outside where they belonged.
“Not too cramped?” He was looking at her again, in that intense way. “Sharing a bed with your brother can’t be fun.”
“Oh, no, I sleep in the recliner. He’s a karate expert—in his sleep.” She smiled, admitting, “It might seem cramped but we’re pretty happy. My little brother has a roof over his head, food in his stomach and an actual bed to sleep in. I couldn’t ask for much more.”
Fisher’s jaw locked again. He opened his mouth, then closed it and swallowed. She waited, knowing he had something to say. But not sure she wanted to hear it.
“Fisher,” Toben called out. “You coming or not?”
“You should go.” She glanced at Brook. “Maybe try flirting?”