Adios Pantalones (Fisher Brothers 3)

“That one.” He waved his finger at my face. “It’s the one that tells me when something’s bothering you. Plus, you get two little lines right here,” he tapped me between my eyes and I jerked back, “whenever you’re upset.”

I smoothed my expression, trying to make any possible lines go away, but all Frank did was laugh. No one had ever told me that before, but then again, maybe no one knew me well enough to know that about me.

“Where’s Nick?” I sipped the concoction I’d just made before pushing it toward Frank, who still hadn’t moved. “Try this.”

“He’ll be here later. Wanna wait until we’re both here so you don’t tell the same story twice?” Not waiting for my answer, he took a sip. “Shit, this is good.”

I nodded, because it was. “I’m going to add it to the board tonight. We’ll see how it sells.”

“What are you calling it?”

“Bad Apple,” I said without thinking.

“Bad Apple? You’re usually more creative than that,” he teased, even though he hated most of my drink names.

“It fits the drink and my mood.”

Frank’s eyes widened. “Forget waiting for Nick. Talk to me.” He dropped his notepad and pen on the counter and leaned back against the bar. “Is it the girl?”

Squeezing my eyes closed, I pinched the bridge of my nose while I thought about how exactly to say it. “It’s the girl,” I said, but then stopped.

“What about her? What happened?” When I didn’t answer right away, he said, “Look, I know I give you a bunch of shit all the time about being sensitive and girlie, but I don’t mean it. Well, you are sensitive and girlie, but I just like to tease you about it. If I thought it really bothered you, I’d stop, you know?”

I nodded because I knew it was the truth, and Frank went on.

“You and Nick helped me a lot with my situation when I didn’t think I wanted any help. But I needed it. I don’t know how I would have gotten through everything without you two.”

“But that’s what brothers do,” I said.

“Exactly.” Frank gave my shoulder a light punch. “That’s what brothers do. So, talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

“Sofia has a kid,” I blurted, then waited for Frank to wince or look horrified, have some sort of reaction, but he seemed unmoved.

“So?”

“So, she didn’t tell me.”

“Okay . . .” He dragged out the word, still not catching on as to why I was so upset.

“She didn’t tell me she had a kid because she doesn’t think I’m good enough to be around him.” There. I’d spelled it out for him plainly.

Frank’s face pinched into a pissed-off expression. “She said that?”

Now we were getting somewhere. I wanted someone else to be pissed off like I was. I needed my brother to get mad with me. Or at least tell me I had a right to be mad.

“She told me that I’m not the kind of guy she wants in her life. Said I’m not the type of man she’s looking for. Can you believe that?” I asked, resisting the urge clutch my stomach. Repeating her words out loud was like a knife to the guts.

Frank stayed quiet, processing what I’d just said. Being the most levelheaded and rational of the three of us, he rarely spoke without thinking first.

But his silence gave my self-doubt enough time to rear its destructive head again. What if Sofia had been right?

“I’m sorry, little brother. It’s clear that she doesn’t know you,” Frank said with a slight shake of his head. “Because anyone who would say something like that about you can’t know you. Out of the three of us, you’d absolutely be the one who would date someone with a kid. Hands down. I can even picture it in my head.”

“Then why couldn’t she?”

Frank lowered his voice, his words slow. “Because she doesn’t know you, Ryan.”

“She didn’t even try.”