“Great.” God, was there anyone in his family who was actually happy to see him?
“Just thought you should be prepared. If you’re thinking there’s going to be some kind of a big parade to welcome you home, you might be a little disappointed.”
Apparently Grant had died without knowing it, and had come back as a punching bag. His brother was throwing hook after hook, and it was starting to piss him off. Eight thousand miles. That’s how far he’d come, and for this? If he’d wanted to get treated like shit, he could’ve stayed in the jungle with Miranda and Blake.
“Wow. Guess I’m wondering why you invited me at all.”
Tyler rolled his shoulders. “My fiancée insisted on it. Her parents had a fight that lasted twenty-three years, and she said if they could work through that, then you and I should be able to figure this out, if we put in a little effort. You interested?”
Was that an olive branch his brother was waving in his direction or a spear about to skewer him?
“Well, considering the fact that I didn’t even know we had a problem, I guess, yeah. I’m interested. I quit my job to be here, you know.” That wasn’t precisely true. He’d quit because he’d wanted to quit, but Tyler was flinging a lot of crap his way and he needed to fling some back.
“Mom said you quit because Blake Rockstone is an asshole.”
Grant chuckled at his own expense. “He is. But apparently so am I, so maybe we were a good team.” He picked up his drink and took a huge gulp. This was not the reunion he was expecting. It was more like a colonoscopy followed by a tar-and-feathering.
Tyler’s grin broadened, also at Grant’s expense, but he lifted his glass. “OK, truce. I’ve said my piece, and I really am glad you’re here. I didn’t think you’d come, and you’ve made Evie very happy, and Mom too.”
Grant held out his glass, feeling the first hint of genuine warmth since he’d sat down. “How is Mom doing? I mean, really doing? She seemed mostly OK when I went to the house.”
“She is OK. She’s not allowed in Mason’s jewelry store anymore because she swiped a watch from there last fall. I think Scotty leaving town for basic training had her rattled. But other than that, she’s managing.”
“She’s still gambling, you know.”
Tyler cocked an eyebrow. “I said she’s managing, I didn’t say she was cured. She has a new psychologist that Evie got her set up with, and things are improving. I suspect meds are involved.”
“Meds to make you stop stealing?”
Tyler shook his head. “No, antianxiety meds. Apparently it’s stress that makes her take stuff, so the more on an even keel things stay in her life, the better she does. Carl balances her out nicely. He’s so mellow he’s like a walking Xanax.”
“Yeah, Carl seems all right.” Grant took another drink and flipped open the menu left by the waitress. His gaze scanned the list of items but his mind had moved on to the next topic. “So, let’s talk about you, now. Tell me about this woman who swept you off your feet.”
Surely this would be the part where Tyler explained about the pregnancy and the obligation, maybe even shared his doubts about building a successful marriage. Only he didn’t. Instead, his brother’s face lit up like Christmas morning and Grant laughed out loud. Tyler practically had cartoon hearts circling his head.
“Wow. That good, huh?”
“Absolutely. Evie’s the best. She’s a plastic surgeon, beautiful, funny, a good sport, thank God. We met last summer when she gave me stitches.”
“Last summer? So this all moved pretty fast.”
Tyler’s eyes narrowed again, and Grant lifted his hands in mock self-defense. “Hey, I’m not making a judgment. I’m just saying that’s not a very long time to know each other.”
“You’re totally making a judgment, but go ahead. Once you see her, you’ll get it.” His voice was mild, almost smug. Was Grant being patronized by his little brother?
“When I see her? Why? Because she’s pregnant?”
God! He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Damn it. Now he’d have to wash that other foot down too, but Tyler just shook his head as if Grant was the one to be pitied.
“You’re a jackass, and no, she’s not pregnant, but we plan to adopt just as soon as we can.”
Grant coughed on a sip of his drink. “Adopt? Adopt . . . children?” He continued coughing, choking on his aversion to domestication. Tyler seemed far more amused than concerned by this.
“You all right over there? Need to put your head down?”
Grant took another big, painful swallow of his drink instead. “No, I’m good. It’s just a lot of new information all at one time, you know? I mean, my little brother, a husband and a dad? It’s not . . . it’s just not where I’m at in my life at all.”