“Mom?” Shay asked in surprise. “What’s going on? You don’t gamble.”
“Hey, sweetie,” Sharon said, setting her cards face-down and then smacking Bob’s hand when he tried to look at them. She smiled at Shay. “Someone has to keep him from losing all our money before Italy.” She held up a wineglass. “Have some wine. It’s excellent.”
The kiss, her mother gambling—had she fallen asleep and woken up in another dimension? Suddenly aware of the warm blanket of Caleb’s attention, Shay said, “Can’t. I have to go to the office and meet a patient.”
“On a Saturday night?” Caleb asked, forcing her to acknowledge him.
“Dressed like that,” Kent added, eying her ripped-style jeans.
Irritably, Shay defended herself. “It’s all I have with me.”
“What in the world is such an emergency that you have to meet the client now?” her father grumbled.
Shay leaned on the island counter. “This client—” she intentionally left out the name for privacy reasons “—lost his wife three years ago in a mugging. The sudden trauma of losing her has created an obsessive-compulsive disorder. Two months ago—”
“Obsessive-compulsive disorder?” Caleb interrupted, his brows dipping. “And you’re going to see him alone in a deserted office building? Is there, at least, a guard on duty?”
“It’s safe,” she answered evasively. “Besides, this client is a kitten. And a kitten who wouldn’t harm a mouse for that matter.”
“So was Jack the Ripper,” Caleb said cynically. “Until they found out he wasn’t.” He pushed to his feet. “I’m going with you.”
“Hey,” Kent said, knocking on the table to get Caleb’s attention. “We need you in the game.”
“You mean you need my money,” Caleb corrected, shoving his chair back into place.
“Can’t have one without the other,” Kent pointed out, but Caleb wasn’t paying him any mind. He had his sights on Shay, and he closed the distance between them with a loose-legged swagger.
“Kent White,” Sharon scolded, “how about some concern for your sister?” Her gaze shifted to Caleb, her voice softening. “Thank you, Caleb, for looking out for Shay. I worry about her. It’s comforting to know you’re here for her while we’re away.”
Feeling the heaviness of Caleb’s keen inspection, Shay squeezed her eyes shut in anticipation of what would follow, silently willing her mother not to issue the oh-so-familiar “she needs a man” line. Not to Caleb, not with Caleb involved. But true to form, her mother added, “She needs a man in her life.”
“I don’t need a man in my life, Mom,” she said, her eyes snapping open to find all six-feet-plus of Caleb towering over her. He arched a brow, amusement in his eyes.
Her mother continued to mean well and make things worse. “I just want you to have a man to take care of you, Shay.”
Mortified despite having anticipated such a remark, Shay looked away from Caleb. “You take women back twenty years every time you make that statement, Mom.”
Several remarks from the males around the table followed, and Sharon banished them all with a wave of her hand. Except for Kent, of course, who waited for silence and said, “If you’d prefer a woman, sis, we are an open-minded family.”
“Enough,” Bob chided. “I don’t want anyone rushing my baby girl to the altar. She has two brothers. You and Caleb. She doesn’t need a husband until she is darn good and ready for one.”
Shay bit her bottom lip, tension rolling through her at the brotherly reference to Caleb. “On that note,” Shay said, “I should take off. I don’t want to be late.”
Kent turned off the attitude. “You need to learn to say ‘no,’ Shay.” He’d often told her she worked too hard and never lived life. It wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have right now. The whole “need a man” one had been enough. “Hurry and get back here.”
Shay pretended they were still jesting. “No,” she said. “See? I’m practicing on you. No poker for me.”
A conversation about how and when to get her parents to the airport the next day followed. Both Kent and Shay lived in central Austin, near their parents, but the airport was a good forty-minute drive south. Since Kent was traveling out of town on business as well, it made sense for him to drive their parents to the airport. And though her parents pointed out that Caleb lived forty-five minutes in the opposite direction of the airport, at the Hotzone facility, he insisted, he, like Shay, would be at the house before they left, to see them off.
Ready to depart, Shay glared at her father. “Don’t let Kent keep you up all night. You have a big day tomorrow.”
“I’ll go to bed,” he said. “I’m not gambling on no sleep and risk missing the alarm and a fancy vacation with your mother.”
“Then we better get to playing,” Kent said, pointing to the cards irritably and then at Caleb. “You hurry your butt back here lickety-split. We have some serious poker to play and not much time.”