The Best Next Thing

“She’s not a conquest!” he snapped, infuriated that she would think that. “Don’t speak of her like that.”

Her eyes widened, and she gingerly lowered the glass she had been rinsing to the drainer.

She whistled. “Well, I didn’t expect to hit that nerve quite so hard. Miles, what’s going on? You look so much healthier than before you left. I didn’t say it at the time, but it was terrifying to see you so weak and so obviously ill. But now…you look healthy sure. And you also look so bloody desolate.”

Vicki had always been entirely too perceptive. And he loved that about her. He was proud of her intelligence and wit. But right now, because of her incredible mental acuity, he truly wished he were dealing with Hugh, or his mother instead. They usually took everything he said at face value. Vicki never had. And she wouldn’t do so now.

“Well,” he began, fixating on the ruffled edge of the tea towel he was holding. Worrying at it, he found a frayed stitch and tugged. Anything to avoid his sister’s insightful gaze. “She’s leaving, isn’t she?”

“And that’s what has you so miserable?”

“I’m a little…” He cleared his throat, and when the piece of thread he’d been worrying broke, he found another one to tug on. “I’m a little in love with her.”

He dared a quick glance at Vicki from beneath his brow, she was gawking at him, her jaw unattractively agape. And he hastily went back to his loose thread.

“More than a little in love actually. I fucking adore her.”

“So why the hell are you letting her go?”

“It’s complicated, Swish.” He hadn’t used the nickname in so long it actually startled him when it emerged from his mouth. Swish, because Vicki had been such a talented netball player at high school. “She’s been through some shit. And she’s been hiding from it. She’s finally ready to carry on with her life. To be with her family and friends again. I can’t deprive her of that. To do so would be selfish.”

“Does she love you?”

“I don’t think she’s quite ready for love yet. I don’t even think she was ready for what we did have. But it was an irresistible, unstoppable force, and we couldn’t fight it. But she needs to heal. To figure out who she is now. And what she wants to do. And she needs to do that without me around to cloud her judgment.”

So easy to say those words, to recognize the practicality and rightness in them…and yet so very hard to actually live them.

“I’m sorry, Miles,” she said, her voice brimming with sincerity.

“It is what it is.” He set the tea towel aside and folded his arms over his chest. He eyed her assessingly. His cute baby sister with her dark curls, her pale gray eyes, her slightly crooked smile, and the overly big glasses that gave her the appearance of a myopic owl. He had always adored her. “I’m happy to see you, you know?”

“Are you? Really?” Her voice was small and uncertain and contained the tiniest portion of childlike hope.

“I am, yes. I’m sorry if I made you feel differently this morning.”

“It was a pretty dick thing to suggest.”

“I know.”

She held his gaze for a long while, before grinning happily. “But, I’m so happy you got us a dog! Thank you. She’s so sweet.”

“I didn’t get us anything. She’s my dog.” Best to make that clear right now. Vicki had already claimed far too much of Stormy’s time and attention today.

“You never wanted a dog, Miles. I did. And now that you’ve finally brought one into the family, you’re going to hog her?”

“Yes, I’m going to hog her, she’s my dog. I share enough with you brats as it is, I’m not sharing my dog.”

Her eyes went somber, and she gave him a melancholy smile. “Do you resent us because of that? Having to share or give up your stuff when we were kids?”

“Never!” His response was emphatic. He wanted there to be no doubt about his sincerity. “And don’t you dare let that thought cross your mind again. I was happy to share everything I had with you and Hughie. I still am. Just not my dog. I’m going to need her…after everything.”

By that he meant after Charity. A fact that his sister seemed to tune in to immediately if the compassion in her eyes was anything to go by.

“Oh, Miles,” she murmured, crossing the short distance between them to wrap her arms around his waist and hug him fiercely. His arms closed around her small frame moments later as he gratefully accepted the comfort she was so freely offering.

If Charity’s life was a leaky boat, time was the water that flooded through the gaping holes faster than she could plug them. All too soon, she was submerged and drowning beneath the weight of everything that still needed to be done before she left in just twenty-four hours.