chapter 13

He'd walked her all the way back to the door of her room because it was the gentlemanly

thing to do. She was woozy from the martinis and emotional from the events of her day,

and he couldn't very well leave her to fend for herself in the unfamiliar wilds of British

Columbia, could he?

But when they got to her room, when she had the key in her hand, she didn't just

unlock the door and go inside, the way they both knew she should have. Instead, she

turned to him, leaned back against the still-locked door—sank into it, really—and gazed

up at him with sleepy, half-closed eyes.

He had it in mind to take the key from her hand and unlock the door for her, see her

inside safely, and then go to his own room, where he would indulge in whatever harmless

sexual fantasies presented themselves. But instead, God helps him, he put one hand

against the door on either side of her body and leaned in.

"I never answered your question," he murmured, his voice foggy with desire.

"Which question was that?" her own voice was a whisper.

"Whether I wanted to have a shot with you." He trailed one finger gently down her

cheek. "Well … I do."

She let out a low moan. "Colin …"

Before she could finish whatever it was she was going to say, he moved his mouth to

hers and touched her lips briefly, softly, with his, before drawing her lower lip gently

between his teeth.

A number of thoughts whooshed through his head. The first was that he shouldn't get

involved with someone who was so inextricably linked to his own family turmoil. The second

was that his mother would deeply disapprove if he took advantage of a woman's overly

enthusiastic alcohol consumption. And third, wasn't a thought so much as a general buzz

of excitement that rushed to his nether regions and urged him to ignore points one and

two.

"Uh … Colin?" She pulled away from him reluctantly.

"Hmm?" His eyes were closed as he breathed in her scent and imagined what she

would look like in bed amid rumpled white sheets.

"I'm maybe a little drunk, and I—"

"Let's go to your room. Or mine." He nuzzled her cheek lightly with his own and

felt her let out a weighty breath.

He was just about to go in for another kiss when she put her palms against his chest

and pushed him back a couple of inches.

"I can't," she said. "I mean, I want to … I really want to … but not like this. Not

when I'm drunk and upset and—"

"Oh."

He opened his eyes, took a deep breath, and realized that he didn't like the way he

was acting. She was right; she was a little bit drunk and a lot upset over everything that

had happened that day. If he talked her into bed under these conditions, he'd feel like an

asshole in the morning. More than that, he'd actually be an asshole.

"I get it," he said, clear-headed now. "I do. You're right; it's not a good idea."

He stood there as she put her key in the door, unlocked her room, and went inside.

She gave him an apologetic look, then closed the door. He could hear the snick of the

lock sliding into place.

He paused in the hallway to gather himself, then headed to his own room.

What had he been thinking? When had he become that guy? And, more importantly,

what made him think he deserved a woman like Julia McCray?

Don't drink and dial, Julia told herself. It never leads anywhere good.

But she had to talk to someone about what had just happened, and it wasn't that late

—not even ten p.m. She envied women who had girlfriends they could talk to, someone

you could call when a hot guy made a move on you and you were kicking yourself for

saying no. But since she didn't have that, she flopped down on the bed, cursed herself for

what she was about to do, pulled up her contact information, and called Mike.

"What?" he barked at her. The greeting—if you could call it that—didn't put her off.

It was standard Mike, and she was used to it.

"I … need your advice on that hotel project out by Springhill Park."

"You do." She could hear the skepticism in his voice.

"Yes. And … Colin Delaney hit on me."

"Who am I, Dear Abby?" Mike growled.

"That's pretty much who I need you to be right now, yes," she acknowledged.

He sighed his usual exasperated Mike sigh, but she knew that was just for show.

"So, this guy hit on you," he prompted her. "And?"

"And, I turned him down. Because I was kind of drunk, and him hitting on me was

all tangled up in the feelings I was having about Drew, and it was all just too much."

"Sounds sensible." She'd heard the TV in the background, and now she heard him

turn it off. "So, what's the issue?"

"The issue is, I didn't want to turn him down! I wanted to … to not turn him down!

And now he's right across the hall, and I want to go over there, Mike! I really want to go

over there and—"

"For God's sake, do not go over there," he said. "Because if you do, I'm going to

have to hear for the next week about how you shouldn't have gone over there. And I've

got to tell you, I'm not exactly comfortable hearing about the sex you had, or didn't have,

or wish you'd had. Watch some TV or take a hot bath—women seem to like hot baths—

or get yourself a piece of paper and a pencil and write I will not screw my brother's

cousin a hundred times. Whatever it takes. But do not go over there."

"Okay." She nodded with fresh resolve. "Okay. But … what about the

awkwardness? Tomorrow, I mean? I'm going to have to face him, and—"

He made a kind of pfft noise. "He's the one who got shot down like a mallard during

hunting season. He's the one who's going to feel awkward. You've got the high ground."

She hadn't thought about it exactly that way. "Huh. You're right."

"Of course I'm right. Now get some sleep. And, Julia?"

"Yeah?"

"Do not go over there."

Colin lay on his bed in his room and wished Julia would change her mind and come

over. She could just knock on his door, and then he could stop imagining what it would

be like to be with her and find out for sure.

He was lying there looking at the ceiling, thinking about whether he'd acted like an

ass, and whether she thought he'd acted like an ass when his cell phone rang.

He wasn't surprised, even though it was a little late for a phone call. Various family

members had been texting him all day to get an update on the Drew situation, but he'd

ignored them. He hadn't had anything to tell them, anyway.

Now he checked the display on his phone: Liam.

Perfect. Liam, more than anyone else, had been hostile about the very idea of Drew

McCray from the start. All Colin needed right now was another tirade about how their

newly discovered cousin was a threat to their very livelihood.

Colin considered letting the call go to voice mail, but that would just delay the

inevitable. He took the call.

"What the hell, Colin?" Liam opened the conversation with his usual good cheer. "I

texted you three times today."

"I'm aware."

"Then why didn't you answer? You didn't want me to come with you on this, so the

The least you could do is keep me up to date."

Colin rubbed his eyes and sighed. "I've been pretty busy traveling to the middle of

nowhere and tracking down our mystery cousin."

"The middle of nowhere?" Liam repeated. "What are you, about thirty miles from

Victoria?"

"That's not the point," Colin said. He sat up on the bed. A conversation with Liam

demanded that one be upright.

"Well, anyway, you're not busy now. Did you find him?"

"I found him." Colin got off of the bed and went to the little minibar in the corner of

the room. A conversation with Liam also required scotch, if it was available. He hunted

around amid the tiny bottles and found that it was.

"Well? Are you going to tell me what the fuck happened?" Liam demanded.

Colin put the phone on speaker, set it down on the dresser, opened his tiny bottle of

scotch, and poured the amber liquid into a glass he found on the nightstand. He picked up

the phone and settled back onto the bed with his drink.

"Not much," Colin said. "I haven't talked to him yet."

"What? Why not? You said you found him." Liam's voice was accusing, as though

he were personally offended by Colin's lack of progress.

"Yeah, well … it's a long story. His sister talked to him, and it didn't go well. He got

pissed and walked out. I figure I'd better give it a day and then try again."

"His sister," Liam said.

"Yeah, his sister. Half-sister."

"His sister is there with you? How the hell did that happen?" Colin had updated

Liam on the fact that he'd met Julia, and that he had traveled to British Columbia to look

for Drew. But somehow, he'd left out the detail that Julia had come on the trip with him.

He wasn't sure why he hadn't wanted to tell Liam that part of it—probably a brotherly

instinct that Liam would give him shit about it.

Which he did.

"She wouldn't tell me where he was unless I brought her along," Colin told him, and

then braced himself.

"What? This isn't some kind of game. This isn't some … some vacation you're

taking for the hell of it. What is she playing at? And what were you thinking, going along

with it? Goddamn it …"

"I was thinking that I wanted to find out where Drew McCray was without having to

hire a damned detective," Colin said. He took a sip of the scotch, thinking he would need

an economy-size barrel of the stuff if he stayed on the phone with Liam much longer.

"Well, if she saw him, you should have been right there with her. You shouldn't

have let her go without you. You should have—"

"Give it a rest, Liam, would you? It's been a long day." He could have told Liam

that Julia had sneaked out of the B&B to see Drew, and that's why he hadn't gone with

her. But he knew Liam would hold his blunder over him for the rest of his life, and he

didn't need to deal with that on top of everything else.

"Well … but you're seeing him tomorrow, right?" Liam demanded.

"I will if he hasn't fled town."

"Goddamn it, Colin …"

"I'll see him tomorrow, all right? I'm here to find this guy, and that's what I'm going

to do. Maybe give me a little credit for some basic competence."

Liam was silent for a moment, a rare occurrence. "I never said—"

"Look. It's late, I'm tired, and I just got shot down by a woman, so if you could just

can it, I'd really—"

"Oh, yeah?" Liam sounded interested now. "Who shot you down?"

Colin was silent, mentally kicking himself for letting it slip.

"Colin? Who shot you down?"

Silence.

"Ah, Christ. It's her, isn't it? The sister? I knew we shouldn't have let you—"

"Liam."

"For all we know, she's Redmond's kid, too. She could be your … what? Your half-cousin."

"She's not."

"Well, even if she isn't, she's—"

"I'm hanging up now. Goodbye. And, Liam? Don't tell Mom."

He disconnected the call, thinking how absurd it was that, at his age, he was still

asking his brother not to tell on him.

His phone beeped with a text message. Liam.

If you sleep with the sister, you bet your ass I'm telling Mom.

Colin smirked. Liam would do it, too. That alone was enough to keep him in his own

room and away from Julia McCray.