“What if I’ve got someone else to come, too?” Maybe Tom’s presence in the appointment will help the damn thing beat properly for once.

“Who? Mr. Hickey? Introduce him to me, and I’ll consider it.” Jamie grins over at Tom, willing him to join in on the messing-with-Darcy game. He pushes me back out of our hug, but not in a mean way. “I didn’t know you finally disclosed your little cardio situation to a guy. Must be serious.”

“Maybe I will introduce you. You’ll like him.”

“I doubt it. Have you seen this guy, Tom? Let me guess. He’s forever seventeen, with a shank in his pocket.”

Tom can’t help himself; he laughs out loud. Jamie is gratified and begins hacking away at the remaining bits of tile on the wall.

“I’m going to introduce you to a guy I work with. A real adult human male. That’ll be a novelty for you, Darce.” Jamie grins at Tom to see if he laughs at that one. “His name is Tyler.”

“Say no more. He sounds repulsive.”

“It’s not his fault that his parents named him that. He’s tall, likes walking and animals and all that shit chicks love. He has a motorcycle and the looks.” He turns to me to impress that very important selling point. “A motorcycle.”

Behind him, Tom crosses his arms.

“He’s down this way for a conference next week. I’ve given him the address. He’s going to pick you up and you can go for a ride. On his motorcycle.” To Tom, Jamie winks conspiratorially. “One of my foolproof plans.”

I kick my brother’s shin. “No. If he turns up, I’m going to turn the garden hose on him. Quit messing with my love life.”

“Love life? Love?” Jamie chortles. “You’ve never said that word in your life. Love life? More like your vigorous sex life.” He reaches toward my neck to pat at my hickey and doesn’t notice how Tom’s changing behind him. “Hope that fades before Tyler gets here.”

“No plans. Forget it with that guy,” Tom advises my brother, his voice dipping down into that tone that my ovaries like. “What did I just say? I’ll fuck him up.”

“Not required,” I say, and maneuver the conversation swiftly back to my brother. “Still with that beautiful tall greyhound?”

“Rachel? I broke up with her. She kept dragging me past jewelry store windows. I’ve got my eye on someone else.” Jamie realizes something and his mouth drops open. I hope that’s what I look like when I smile. “I’d probably be the one dragging her past a jewelry store window.”

For just one moment, he’s filled with stained-glass color and his eyes brighten to cornflower blue. I wish I had my camera. Then he remembers something and resumes a halfhearted chipping at the wall.

I exhale. “Well, I’m glad she’s not getting Loretta’s sapphire. Thank fuck for that. I don’t suppose—”

“No. She left it to me. It is for my bride.” Jamie says my bride in a stupid falsetto voice. Heaven help whoever he eventually decides on.

“At least let me wear it. Or look at it.”

According to Loretta, the sapphire turned black from being buried in a flowerpot during the war. Which war, I’m not sure. Is it the truth? Not sure. My favorite ring in the world is now living a fate worse than a flowerpot’s: It’s in Jamie’s safe.

“Name your price.” I just can’t shut my mouth. “I’m guessing a cool billion?”

He’ll never budge on this. “I’m gonna need that ring one day. The twins aren’t getting any younger. Time for us to find a couple of unlucky victims to deal with our bullshit, for life.”

“I’m sure your bride would prefer something from Tiffany. Let me have the ring, please. I might … I might not be around that long.” I let my voice go feeble as I play the crappy-heart card and Jamie sees right through it. Even Tom half laughs, his possessive bristling easing off.

I sigh and give up. “Make sure she’s someone I won’t hate, sitting there wearing my ring when we all go on that cruise when we’re eighty. She’ll come drink whiskey Old Fashioneds with me before lunch and maybe let me try it on.”

If Tom has a wife and it’s not me, I’ll lure her out of his cabin at night and hoist her old bones overboard.

“We’re going on a cruise when we’re eighty? Can’t wait. I’m going to be so loaded.” Jamie smiles, positively romantic about his future bank account. Then he remembers something. “Don’t get your hopes up. She thinks I’m a nightmare. But yeah. She’d day-drink on a cruise ship with you.”

It’s a sore point and I really, really want to press it, because Jamie is actually having to do some chasing for once. I love her, whoever she is. “Well, sounds like she’s got your number. What’s her name?”

“Nope.” His ears are red. Frustration gets me right by the throat. Judging by his body language and the crowbar in his hand I’d better leave it. Once, I knew every single thing about my brother. How can I get back to that place if he forever shuts me down?

I wonder if Tom knows. He shakes his head with a shrug.

“Can’t wait to go on that cruise with you and your elderly husband, Tyler,” Jamie tries, but I wave him off with a scowl.

“So, we’re agreed, this is a bedroom?” Tom is in the entrance to the dining room, and also his own personal hell. I know what he’d whisper about Tyler—in the dark, rhythmically knocking the air out of me. That fucker cannot have me.

He’s buckling something around his waist, slow, like it’s revenge. It’s an honest-to-goodness tool belt. There’s a hammer on one side. It sits low on his hips and I can’t take it.

Everything boils up inside of me, and the floor vibrates under my feet, my bones shake, my heart bumps. The stitches unravel out of the shirt I’m wearing, my heart unspools like cotton and I can’t handle ten more seconds of not kissing him. I put my hand on my hickey and bite my lip. I clench everything so I don’t make a sound.

He convinced me last night that I’m beautiful. From the look in his eye, I convinced him he’s a sexual genius. The faintest smirk touches his lips. “Darce? You want a bedroom, right?”

I cough to clear my throat. “Make it a room fit for a princess. Wallpaper and a fireplace and a four-poster bed. Make someone fall in love with that room.”

“Sure, like it’s so easy,” Jamie replies to me with some snark in his voice. “He’s not your slave.”

“Oh, ’cause he’s your slave?” Tom’s phone buzzes in my pocket. “Tom, it’s your mom. Gosh, pretty early for her.” I hand him the phone. Then I round on my brother. That familiar feeling is in the air. A Barrett Battle.

“So, you got Tom to knock down my fireplace.” I know this is wrong. This won’t lead to anything good. But I have to start getting Jamie used to the fact that Tom is going to choose me over him from now on.

“I told him I trust him. Isn’t that what you do? Trust him? Why not now?” Jamie plants his feet right where the fireplace was and holds out his arms. “The room is huge. There’s some chance of making it look modern now.”