“We should be landing soon,” Micah Sinclair mentioned casually as he glanced out the window of Evan’s private jet. “It’s been a while. I’m sure you’re eager to see Hope and your new nephew.”
Evan lifted his eyes from his laptop and looked at Micah, realizing the two of them had barely spoken during the flight. When his cousin had asked to hitch a ride with him to Amesport from New York City because he’d lent his own jet to his brother Julian, Evan had thought he’d welcome the company. Micah had a residence in New York; Evan didn’t, but was there quite frequently on business, so they met whenever possible.
As the eldest of the Sinclairs, Evan had the most in common with Micah. They were both just entering their midthirties, and, unlike his cousin’s younger brothers, Micah was obsessed with business. Granted, his business was extreme sports, but he took his bottom line and his responsibilities to his siblings seriously. As the oldest in their immediate families, Evan and Micah understood each other when it came to what everyone else called “meddling” in the business of younger relatives. He and Micah preferred to call it “guidance,” and neither one of them had ever felt guilty about checking on family. Maybe some people would actually refer to how they handled things as spying, but Evan preferred to think of it as checking on the well-being of his relatives.
Evan shrugged. “It’s been over six months since I’ve seen them, and I want to meet my nephew. I saw pictures. He looks bald. That can’t be normal. No Sinclair has ever been hairless. Our grandfather died with a full head of hair.” Their grandfather had lived to a ripe old age, and his hair had been gray as long as Evan could remember, but he hadn’t had a single bald spot on his head.
Micah chuckled as he fastened his seat belt in preparation for landing. “He’s not bald. His hair is blond, and it’s thin. He’s a cute little guy. Hope sent me a picture to my cell phone.”
Evan checked his seat belt and leaned back in the leather seat of his private aircraft, frowning at Micah, who was seated across from him. “He looked bald to me. And he’s not cute. He’s handsome. He’s a Sinclair.”
Micah’s laughter boomed in the cabin of the aircraft. “God, you’re an arrogant prick! But I like that about you. I always have.”
Evan smoothed down the lapel of his custom suit and straightened his tie before replying. “I’m sure the traits are easy to recognize since you happen to have the same attributes.”
If Evan was totally honest—which he wasn’t going to be—Micah probably wasn’t quite as uptight as he was, but he wasn’t going to admit that to his eldest cousin.
“Why do you always dress like you’re going to a business meeting or a funeral? Sometimes I wonder if you even own a pair of jeans,” Micah queried, sounding more curious than teasing.
Evan shot him a condescending look, unwilling to admit that he didn’t, in fact, own a pair of jeans or any other casual clothing. “I’m perfectly comfortable in a suit.” Well, at least that was the truth. If he was dressed for business, he felt more in control. His attire reminded him of his goals. He didn’t want to be sidetracked into something frivolous or unimportant.
Eyeing the guy for a moment, Evan had to admit that wearing a pair of jeans and a button-down green shirt didn’t lessen Micah’s aura of power. But Micah was different, normal. He was an expert at several of the sports that he sold state-of-the-art equipment for, and he had no reason to be anything other than self-assured. He might think that Micah was certifiable for participating in some of the extreme sports that he excelled at, but Evan couldn’t deny that his cousin was good at them. Really good. It took intense concentration and focus to do the stunts Micah was capable of performing, and he took his business just as seriously.
“I heard they named the baby David,” Micah said conversationally as the plane continued to descend for landing.
Evan inwardly released a sigh of relief that Micah had dropped the teasing. It wasn’t something he was entirely comfortable with, even from family.
He nodded as he answered. “David was a friend of Hope’s who was killed while chasing tornadoes. An extreme meteorologist. They wanted to pass the name on to their son.”
Evan admired the fact that Hope was paying tribute to a good friend who had died trying to collect weather data, but he sure as hell hoped that his nephew didn’t decide on the same line of work as his mother or his namesake. Maybe it was a good thing that Evan hadn’t known that Hope was chasing tornadoes and every other form of extreme weather before she married Jason Sutherland. However, it still ate at him that he’d failed his only sister, hadn’t protected her from the horrors she’d suffered early in her career. She had hidden her involvement in her dangerous endeavors well, but he should have been better, more involved in her life. He was her oldest brother, and he should have kept her safe. Evan hated failing at anything, but what had happened to Hope was his deepest regret and his greatest defeat. He still hadn’t forgiven himself; he was pretty sure he never would.
“I can’t believe that our sweet little Hope was such a wild child,” Micah mused, his voice sounding slightly awed.
“It was her career,” Evan answered unhappily. “It’s not like she was out seeking thrills for no reason.” He didn’t like her being referred to as wild. She wasn’t. Not usually. As Micah had already mentioned, Hope had been a very sweet child and a quiet teenager. Evan had thought she was just carrying on in the same manner in Aspen, living a very sedate life free of media attention in the Colorado Rockies. In reality, she’d been roaming around the world photographing extreme weather events.
I don’t really know her. I don’t really know any of my siblings anymore.
If he wanted to be honest—which he didn’t—he had never really known them at all. They’d spent very little time together as children or adults. Evan hated the fact that there was distance between himself and his siblings, but now that they were all grown and happy, he wasn’t certain how to fit into the Sinclair family or how to fix the situation, or even if he wanted it to be fixed. Too much time had passed.
Maybe I feel distant because I’m not happy or content like they are now? We have nothing in common.
No. That wasn’t quite right. Evan had always needed to maintain his distance in order to keep his secrets. Now, he wasn’t sure he could or would ever truly be close to any of them. He was fairly certain that all of them saw him as more of a pain in the ass than a brother, simply because he interfered in their lives from time to time. But he was okay with that. As long as they were all safe and happy.
“I still think she’s pretty ballsy,” Micah said with admiration. “And her photography work is incredible.”