The way they did it on her favorite TV shows.
She’d set it up two weeks ago. Back before she and Vincent had had the mother of all fights. Back when they were still talking.
It had been two days since their tense talk over pizza at her kitchen table. Two days since she’d come out of her bedroom after her conversations with Tom, and found him gone—as though he’d never been there in the first place.
They’d barely exchanged a word since.
No easy task, since they were partners and all, but they’d managed.
Jill had never been so miserable.
Worst of all, people had noticed. Tom had noticed. He’d practically given her an inquisition when he’d flown in last night. Elena had noticed when she’d shown up early to help Jill set up.
And now, of all people, it was Anthony who’d cornered her in her own home.
“Talk,” he said curtly. Like Vincent, nearly everything Anthony said came out like a near-bark. His marriage to the sweet Maggie had softened Vincent’s older brother slightly, but there was nothing soft about him right now as he stood glaring down at Jill.
She glared up at him with, “Were you just standing here waiting for me to come out of the bathroom?”
Anthony crossed his arms and said nothing. Waited.
She huffed and started to move around him, but he moved with her, blocking her from walking back into the kitchen.
“Look, Anth, I respect the big brother thing you have going on, but let’s remember that you’re not my brother, hmm?” she said, trying to dodge him again.
He moved once more, blocking her way as he spoke. “Just because we’re not related by blood doesn’t mean I don’t love you like a sister.”
Jill froze. None of the Moretti siblings were overly demonstrative, but it was particularly unnerving to hear the word “love” from the mouth of the taciturn eldest.
But Jill couldn’t deny the effect it had on her. Suddenly she found herself wanting to lean into Anth’s tallness and beg for a hug. Because the sibling love went both ways.
Still, it wasn’t the time. Or the place.
Instead she crossed her arms over her middle and cupped her elbows as she glanced to the right of Anthony toward her living room. “It’s nothing.”
“Jill.”
She gave a little sigh. Then she shifted so she could look around Anthony’s other side, since the man was entirely too tall for her to see over his shoulder. “Fine. I’ll play annoying little sister to your overbearing big brother. You want to know what’s crawled up my ass? It has to do with the fact that I have a certain bad-tempered homicide detective in my living room who can’t be bothered to look up from his cell phone for—”
“He’s looked up,” Anthony interupped.
Jill gave him a look. “Not that I’ve seen.”
“That’s because he only looks up when you’re looking away.”
Jill glanced again at Vincent where he sat perched on her bar stool in a long-sleeve black shirt, jeans, and a scowl. “I don’t think—”
“He’s been looking at you,” Anthony cut in.
Jill’s eyes flew back to Anth’s gaze, which was surprisingly patient.
“He’s always looking at you,” Anth said, his voice quieter this time.
“I—”
“What are you doing, Jill?” His voice was tired.
“Excuse me?” she asked with an incredulous little laugh.
“You know what I’m asking,” he said, keeping his voice low. “I’m not saying that Tom’s not a great guy. I’m not saying that you’re not allowed to marry whomever you want—”
“Damn straight I’m allowed to marry whom I want!” Jill said, temper spiking.
She’d seen Anthony get high-and-mighty with his younger siblings before, but this was the first time she’d been on the receiving end. And she could totally see why the younger Morettis were always itching to strike at Anth, in all his control-freakish— “Calm down,” he said, irritating her even further. “Don’t cause a scene.”
“I’m not the one who cornered someone else coming out of the bathroom.” Jill lowered her voice, but it came out as a hiss.
“Look, all I’m saying is that any idiot can see that something is going on with you and Vincent. Something’s been going on for years. If you care for him, at all, address it. And then let him go, Jill.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Me, let him go? Your fraternal observations are a bit shortsighted, Anth. I’ve been right in front of Vincent for years, and he waits until I decide to get married to start acting weird. If anyone needs to do the letting go, it’s him.”
“He’s trying,” Anthony said through gritted teeth. “What do you want from him? Any fool can see that he just wants you to be happy.”
Jill’s shoulders slumped. “Yeah, he keeps saying that. But then he turns around and bites my head off about getting married.”
“It’s because you’re giving mixed signals,” Anth said, his voice quiet.