Catch a Mate (19 page)

Yes, she would. Or she'd attack him with said tongue, thrusting it past his teeth and into his mouth, where it would worship his taste for hours. She cleared her throat. “Marcus, that's my mom, Evelyn, my sister Brittany and the man beside her is Steven, her husband.” Steven waved. “The little girl in the pool is Cherry and Cherry's twin Apple is—where's Apple?”

“Inside,” Brittany answered, fanning herself with a napkin. “Mom bought doughnuts.”

Ah. Apple would not return until every doughnut was consumed. They were her biggest weakness.

“Hey, Aunt Jill,” Cherry said. She was as precocious as Jillian had been at ten. She had Jillian's curls, too, and her big blue eyes. She ran to her and wrapped wet, dripping arms around Jillian's waist. “I missed you.”

Jillian hugged her back with a laugh. “I missed you, too, squirt.” Sometimes, when she looked at Cherry and Apple, she was reminded of a time when she'd wanted kids of her own. A family. Before she'd realized just how painful a family could be.

“Your boyfriend's cute,” Cherry said, smiling at Marcus.

Jillian's cheeks heated. Marcus took it in stride, smiling back and saying, “You're the smart twin, I can tell.”

Laughing, Cherry raced back to the pool and dove in, spraying water in every direction.

“Walk,” Brittany called, “or I'll crack open your head myself.”

Marcus chuckled.

Still not quite used to it, Jillian shivered at the rumbling sound. If they'd been alone…
Don't go there. Not yet.

“Why don't you both have a seat,” her mom said, her tone formal. She moved to Brittany's side, making room. Still she didn't face Marcus.

As if he hadn't a care in the world, Marcus eased right beside her mom. Evelyn scooted away from him. There was a definite twinkle in his eyes as he inched closer. Not knowing what else to do, Jillian plopped beside him.

What have I gotten myself into?
she wondered again.

“Lunch will be ready soon,” Brent said. “You like hamburgers, don't you, Mark?”

“Yes.”

When he didn't scold her brother for calling him something other than his name, Jillian frowned. He always threw a hissy fit when she did it. “Markie, Mark, Mark,” she said, just to see what he'd do.

He reached under the table and squeezed her thigh. Okay, maybe she'd call him Mark for the rest of the day. Jillian smothered a grin and glanced at her mom. “I thought you were cooking pork chops and corn bread dressing.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw her sister make a slashing motion across her neck. Her mom teared up and jolted to her feet. “Excuse me for a moment.” She raced inside the house.

“Uh, what was that about?” Jillian demanded.

“She burned the pork chops,” Steven said, “and she, well, broke down about it.”

“She really needs help.” A blanket of sadness fell over Brittany's features. “Even more than usual.”

Jillian sighed, loud and long. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up without making sure everything had gone well.” She wondered, embarrassed, what Marcus thought of the whole situation.

“You didn't know,” Brent said. “But I, for one, have decided to stop treating her like a delicate flower. I can't take it anymore. I've wanted to do this for a while, but was waiting until I had the cojones. She's just getting worse, so today I'm forcing myself to grow a pair. So just get ready, because I'm not holding back.”

Uh-oh. This could not be good. But Jillian was at the end of her rope, too, and decided to follow Brent's lead. God knows, coddling the woman hadn't helped.

A short while later, her mom opened the glass door and emerged, once again wearing her high-wattage smile. “So,” she said, sitting at the table, “what are we discussing?”

Brittany flashed an overly-bright smile of her own. “I was just about to ask Marcus how long he and Jillian have been seeing each other. I've spoken with Jill several times over the last few days and she never mentioned him.”

“Yes, why didn't you mention him?” her mom asked, clearly disappointed that she was dating him at all.

“She probably thought you'd kill yourself,” Brent replied.

Brittany gasped. “Brent!”

“What?” He shrugged. “It's true. Mom would rather Jillian become a lesbian than risk having her heart broken by some guy. She's not in the market for a son-in-law.”

“Whatever.” Evelyn rolled her eyes, doing her imitation of a cool mom. “I'm handling Steven just fine.”

Steven grimaced.

“You didn't at first,” Jillian reminded her.

“I
can
handle men,” Evelyn insisted.

“Well, men can't handle your multiple personalities.”

“Brent!” Brittany repeated, fury in her tone. “Stop that.”

“What? It's true.”

“Jillian thinks I'm perfect just the way I am, don't you baby?” Evelyn said, gazing expectantly at her.

“I think…I think…” This was harder than she'd anticipated. But she drew strength from Marcus's presence, as if he were injecting it right into her veins, and forged ahead. “I think you'd have a chance at a stable relationship if you controlled your emotions better.” God, had she just said that? She'd always blamed her dad for her fear of relationships, but she was beginning to see that her mom had played a role, as well.

There was a heavy pause.

“Will you excuse me for a moment? I need to use the ladies' room.” Her mom jumped up and ran back into the house.

“Brent, I'm very close to kicking your ass!” Brittany seethed. “What do you think you're doing? And Jillian. How could you say that?”

“I told you,” Brent said. “She needs a wake-up call. It's past time she admitted that she has a problem and needs to take her medications.”

Jillian nodded. “He has a point, Brit. It's worth a shot, at least. Nothing else has worked.”

“I guess,” Brittany hedged, losing the heat of her anger. “But what if it backfires?”

“Can't get any worse,” Brent said grimly.

Marcus squeezed Jillian's thigh again. “You okay?” he whispered with genuine concern.

She bit her bottom lip and nodded. What a…
boyfriend-like
thing to ask. He'd sounded as if he'd sweep her up in his arms and carry her away if needed. What's more, he hadn't seemed disgusted by her mom's emotional displays.

Evelyn returned, her lower lip trembling as she reclaimed her seat. “There's nothing wrong with embracing one's emotions,” she said, as if she'd thought of the words inside the house and wasn't able to hold them back a moment longer.

“Mom.” Incredulity danced over Brittany's face. She closed her mouth, opened it, closed it. Gulped. She shared a long look with Brent, who nodded in encouragement. She straightened her shoulders with determination. “You don't just embrace your emotions, you make love to them hard-core.”

Evelyn gasped. “That's not true!” But at least she didn't cry.

As her mom and Brittany faced off, Jillian chanced a peek at Marcus. He was watching her, his thumb tracing circles over her leg. Even through her clothes, she could feel the seductive power of his skin.

“Sorry about this,” she mouthed.

“No problem.”

“Hamburgers are done,” Brent called. “Buns are on the counter in the kitchen. Be a dear and go get them, Jill.”

“Be a sweetie and go get them, Brit,” she said. No way was she going to leave Marcus alone with her family. No telling what stories they'd tell about her or what they'd ask him.

Brittany stood. “You two are so lazy.”

“I'll help you, bunnybaby.” Steven pushed to his feet. He wrapped his arm around his wife's waist. They cooed to each other for a full minute before going inside the house. All the while, Jillian gagged. She might be envious of their relationship but she
never
wanted to act like that.

“Don't forget the plates,” Brent called. “Hey, Jill. After lunch I've got a few charts I'd like to show you. I did a little research. Did you know that more men give to charity than women?”

“I don't believe you,” she said. He was always trying to prove how wonderful his brethren were.

“I believe it,” Marcus said.

“Does the chart list what kind of charity?” She arched her brows. “I mean, I can see the validity of such a claim if we're talking about Bigger Breasts for Bunnies or something like that.”

Brent was about to snort, but caught himself and nodded. “Yeah, I'd give to that charity.”

The screen door creaked open and Brittany and her crew stepped onto the porch. Brittany's arms were filled with plates. Packages of buns dangled from Steven's hands. Apple, an exact replica of Cherry—except for the sugar glazing her lips—stood beside her mom, holding a pitcher of lemonade.

“If you aren't careful, I'm going to put your face on my Web site,” Jillian told her brother. When she got the site up and running, that is.

“You don't have a Web site,” Marcus and Brent said at the same time.

“One day I will. I'm going to create a site where women can post pictures of their exes on a Most Unwanted list so other women know who to avoid.”

Marcus's expression became pensive. “Actually, that's not a bad idea. Make it a coed site and it's genius.”

Brittany smiled at Steven. “You'd never go up on a site like that. You're too wonderful.”

“We know how wonderful sugarbutt is,” Jillian, her brother and her mom said in unison.

Silence.

“Sugarbutt?” Marcus's brows arched into his hairline. “Seriously?”

Steven gave a sheepish shrug and Brittany slapped his butt. “That's right.”

Everyone looked at everyone else, then burst out laughing, the tension broken.

“Cherry, out of the pool,” Brittany called. “It's time to eat.”

B
RENT
G
REENE
stood inside his mother's kitchen, staring out the large French windows that overlooked the backyard. While he was trying to get his mind off Georgia—where was she?—the twins were once again swimming in the pool, soaking up the sun as Brittany and Steven sat at the edge, watching them intently. His mother was pretending to pick flowers along the iron fence, but in reality was watching Jillian and Marcus. Jillian and Marcus were oblivious to everyone but each other, while trying to appear as if they didn't know the other was there.

He'd been surprised when his younger sister had shown up with a man. Truly a first. Jillian usually kept her love life completely separate from her family life. In fact, they all had for many, many years, not wanting to upset their mother—and for good reason.

When Brittany had decided to marry Steven, Evelyn had sunk into a deep depression that had put her in the hospital on suicide watch. She'd been certain, she claimed, that her oldest daughter was now destined for misery, disappointment and divorce. Evelyn eventually came to accept Brittany's marriage, but it had been a rocky couple of years.

And now Evelyn was on the prowl for her own man, despite her hatred of the entire species. Perhaps that was why she hadn't threatened to plunge a knife into her heart when she first spied Marcus.

Ah, sweet progress, he thought wryly.

Just then, he watched as Jillian stole a quick peek at Marcus. Marcus, who had been watching her, turned away. With his movement, his shoulder accidentally brushed Jillian's and the two jumped apart. Obviously they hadn't been dating long, but the heat between them couldn't be denied.

Brent already liked Marcus. The man did not silently endure the male put-downs that came out of Jillian's mouth, and that was something his little sister needed. It was long past time she was shaken out of her belief that all men were pigs, liars, cheaters and prime candidates for castration.

Georgia needed the same shaking, though not to the same degree—and not in the same way. God, he wanted that woman. He'd always wanted her,
would
always want her. Somehow, she completed him. He should have snatched her up all those years ago, despite the age difference; he should have pursued her harder these past few years instead of trying to woo her gently.

They were mistakes he wouldn't make again.

He'd tried dating other women, but they weren't Georgia and his body, mind and heart always knew the difference. He couldn't get hard anymore unless he thought of Georgia.

Where was she? Worse, who was she with?

Brent pounded a fist into the counter and the vibration clanged plates and dishes together. He rubbed a hand over his face. If she was with that asshole Wyatt…

Brittany chose that moment to glance into the house, her gaze landing directly on Brent. A frown pulled at her lips. She stood, kissed Steven on the forehead, told the twins something and strolled toward the screen door. She said a quick word to Jillian as she passed. Jillian's cheeks reddened. Marcus snorted and then Brittany was entering the kitchen.

Their eyes met, each the same shade of blue. “Spying on everyone?” she asked him as she sauntered to his side.

“Of course.” He wasn't ashamed and didn't try to deny it.

Her frown disappeared, spreading into a wide smile. “That's why I came in. I don't have a good view of Jillian and Marcus.”

“Please. You came in because you saw me, thought I looked pissed and wanted to calm me down. You're my twin. I know you.”

Brittany ground her fist into the top of his head, giving him a noogie that pulled at his hair. “Thinking about Georgia?”

“Yeah. So?”

“Brent—”

“I know you think I'm wasting my time trying to win her, but she'll come around. I'm a great guy.”

“And you're not egotistical in the least,” she said with a laugh.

“So what'd you say to Jillian?” He didn't want to talk about Georgia right now. He'd have to wonder, again, where she was and who she was with and what she was doing and if she was enjoying it. His teeth ground together so forcefully a sharp pain tore through his jaw.

Brittany squeezed his hand. “I told our darling little sister that she and Marcus would make pretty babies together.”

Brent barked out a laugh. “That was pure evil.”

“I know.” She leaned onto the counter, propping up her elbows. “There's something…odd about those two.”

“Agreed.”

“They've got the hots for each other, there's no question of that, but they're so strained and polite. He calls her Dimples, but I swear I hear the word
witch.
She calls him Mark, but I swear I hear the word
bastard.
”

“Whatever is going on between them, Mom seems to be taking it pretty well. We haven't had to stuff her full of Xanax or rush her to the hospital.”

“Probably because it's gotten her mind off the—I can't even say it.” She shuddered, her pretty face scrunching in disgust.

“Internet stud search,” he finished for her.

Another shudder racked his sister. “Has anyone e-mailed her? I haven't questioned her about it. I was too afraid that she'd break into tears the moment the subject came up.”

“Actually, yes. I came over early to make sure her computer was working—because God knows if she's not getting e-mail from horny guys looking to score, a crashed modem is the reason. I was going to send her a few e-mails myself, under an alias, of course. Just to boost her spirits. Turns out I didn't have to. A little gem who goes by the screen name Iwannagetsome asked her to dinner tonight, and, if she's lucky, breakfast.”

Brittany's mouth fell open. “That is so wrong. Tell me she declined.”

“I wish I could.”

“God,” she moaned. “What are we going to do with that woman? We need to get her on meds ASAP.”

“Especially with Dad's upcoming wedding.”

Quick as a snap, Brittany slapped a hand over his mouth. “Don't say that word. Not here.”

“Which one?” he mumbled, the words distorted.

“Both—Dad and wedding.” Her arm dropped to her side and she bit her bottom lip. “Mom doesn't know.”

“She'll find out soon enough. She always does when it comes to D—that man.”

“Does Jillian know?”

Brent shook his head. “I don't think so.”

In unison, they gazed out the window at their little sister. As if she sensed their scrutiny, she glanced over her shoulder, right at them, and frowned. She stood.

“Uh-oh,” Brent said. “Red alert.”

The door popped open a moment later and Jillian stepped inside. “What are you guys doing in here? It doesn't take half an hour to get Marcus a glass of water, Brit.”

She shrugged, all innocence.

Jillian anchored her hands on her hips, her expression determined. She would deny it and slap Brent if he said this, but their father often wore the same expression. “What's going on?”

“Tell us why you're wearing that scarf and we'll tell you what's going on,” Brent countered with a wicked surge of amusement. He could already guess.

Jillian's face heated with a blush and she fingered the material. “I just want to look pretty. Is that a crime?”

“You succeeded. You look fabulous. But, lookit, we were talking about Dad,” Brittany answered honestly. “Still interested?”

“No.” Jillian's lips pressed into a thin line. “You can start again when I leave.” She strode to the cabinet and withdrew a cup.

“He wants to have a relationship with you, Jill,” Brittany said. “I don't know why you hate him so much. We've forgiven him and if you'd just give him a chance, you'd see that he's actually a good person.”

“He's getting married,” Brent said bluntly. Brittany hit him and he shrugged. Like their mother, little Jilly needed a dose of tough love.

Jillian froze, a look of shock and disappointment falling over her face.

“He'd love it if you came,” Brittany said. “He wants us to be bridesmaids.”

“You know how I feel about him,” she said through clenched teeth.

Brent pinned her with a hard stare. “Don't you think it's time to bury the hatchet? Or do you want to end up like Mom, bitter and alone?”

“And crazy,” Brittany added sadly.

“I'm not going to end up like Mom and I don't have to listen to this.” Jillian sidestepped her siblings, tugged open the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. Her back was perfectly aligned, her shoulders stiff as she filled the cup. “But I'll say this. He has no right to start another family when he couldn't take care of this one.”

“Jill—”

“No,” she snapped, stopping her sister. “You didn't see Mom the day she…you just didn't see her. You didn't see how sweetly he cared for his girlfriend, while he treated Mom like a leper. So excuse me if I don't want to attend his wedding and paste a happy smile on my face.” She tossed the bottle in the recycling bin and marched outside. The screen door slammed shut behind her.

“That went well,” Brittany muttered. “Think she'll ever give Daddy a chance?”

Brent lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “Probably not. She was so young when Dad cheated, and she
was
the one to find Mom.”

“True. She didn't speak for months afterward. Not to anyone. And her nightmares…Sometimes I can still hear her screams.”

“Her bitterness has only grown over the years, I guess.”

“Well, Marcus doesn't seem to be taking any of her crap,” Brittany said, smiling as they watched Jillian thrust the cup of water at him. Marcus set the cup aside, palmed Jillian's jaw and tugged her face close to his. He spoke heatedly. “I wonder what he's saying to her.”

“Let's find out.” Grinning, Brent reached behind the microwave and held up Cherry and Apple's old baby monitor. “I found this earlier, when I was working on Mom's computer, and taped the mic under the table before anyone got here. I had hoped Georgia would be here….”

“Eavesdropping is wrong and you should be ashamed.” Brittany clapped. “So turn it on already.”

“I was waiting until we could enjoy it together.” He flipped the switch.

“—don't deserve the attitude,” Marcus was saying.

“All I said was that men were pigs.”

“I happen to be a man, and I take offense at being labeled a bloody swine.”

“I seem to recall a certain man lumping all women into three categories. Shall I name them?”

“Why don't you tell me what this is really about? You were fine until you came out of the house. Did something happen or did you start this argument so I would kiss you?”

Jillian gasped, but her color deepened, became rosy. There was a gleam in her eyes Brent could see even from a distance. “You wish.”

“Maybe I do,” Marcus said and then he was kissing her. A deep, thrusting kiss that bellowed from the monitor.

“Turn it off, turn it off!” Brittany said.

“Not yet,” Brent said, laughing.

Evelyn finally stopped pretending to pick flowers and watched the two with open abandon, with longing. With anger. The twins, too, watched. They giggled behind their hands. Steven smiled. Brent tried to control his own laughter.

“I wasn't sure about him when they first got here and Jill looked like she wanted to murder him,” Brent said. “But he grew on me when I realized he wasn't going to let her male-bash. Now I think I freaking love him.”

His amusement faded quickly, though, when Evelyn stepped up to the table and slapped her hands on the surface, startling the kissing couple. They pulled apart and an embarrassed silence slithered over them. Brent sighed. If his mom was going to slip into a fit of depression or rage,
he
just might kill himself.

“Marcus.” Satisfied she had his attention, Evelyn straightened, adding sweetly, “Would you like a cookie?”

Brent blinked. Brittany gasped.

“No,” Brittany shouted, running outside.

Brent raced behind her. Warm air enveloped him as he grabbed his mom by the shoulders and drew her away from the table.

“Mom!” Jillian frowned up at her. “I can't believe you would do that.”

A look of confusion passed over Marcus's features. “A cookie sounds…good. Thank you.”

“No.” Jillian stomped her foot. “Mother, you will apologize to Marcus right now.”

“Really, Mom.” Brent shook his head. “I thought you'd learned your lesson about the cookies.”

“What's wrong with the cookies?” Marcus asked, unsure.

“Nothing, if you don't mind weeklong hospital stays with your chocolate chips,” Jillian answered dryly, but Brent could tell she was troubled. “Mother, this is the last straw. I've tolerated your happy facade for years while you tortured Brent and Brittany with enough ups and downs to drive anyone crazy. And you want to know something? I would have loved you no matter what you did or said. I
do
love you no matter what you do or say. But I will not let you threaten my date. That's right, my date.”

Evelyn's face fell. “But…but…”

Jillian held up her hand. “No. No more excuses. Other people have emotional problems, but they don't threaten murder. They deal with their issues and lead normal, happy lives. Don't you want to put the past behind you and take charge of your life? Don't you want a little happiness for yourself?”

Go Jillian,
Brent thought.

Evelyn raced inside the house and Jillian turned a tortured gaze to Marcus. Brent watched with satisfaction as Marcus wrapped his arm around her. Maybe Jill would take her own advice. He grinned. Maybe.