He was an idiot. How in the hell had he let a short reporter with curly hair and a smart mouth into his life? He hadn’t even liked her at first. How had he fallen so hard for her? She’d turned his life upside down and now he had to figure a way to get her out of his head. To get his focus back. He could do it. He’d battled back before, and he’d battled bigger demons than Jane Alcott. He figured all he needed was determination and a little time. Darby had told the team she wouldn’t be back to work until next week.
One week. Now that she was out of his life physically, it shouldn’t take that much time to get her the hell out of his head and get mentally back into the game.
And a week later, he was right. Partly, anyhow. He was back in his zone. Back to playing with skill instead of brute strength fueled by emotion, but he’d failed to get Jane out of his head completely.
The day he returned to Seattle, he felt bruised inside and out. He just wanted to sit on his couch, relax, and watch mindless television until Marie came home from school. Maybe they’d order out and have a nice relaxing dinner.
He should have known better. Like always with his sister, one minute things were fine, and the next everything went straight to hell. One minute she was filling him in on her day at school, then she took off her big bulky sweatshirt. Luc’s jaw dropped when he got a good look at her tight T-shirt and her breasts. They were a lot bigger than when he’d left on his trip a week ago. Not that he stared, but he couldn’t help but notice the difference.
“What are you wearing?”
“My BEBE shirt.”
“Your boobs are a lot bigger than they were last week. Are you wearing a padded bra?”
She folded her arms over her chest like he was a pervert. “It’s a water bra.”
“You can’t wear that outside the apartment.” He couldn’t let her outside with her breasts pushed up and out like that.
“I wore it to school all last week.”
Holy shit, he’d bet just about anything that the guys at her school had stared at her chest too. All week. While he’d been on the road. Christ, his life was a mess. A whole churning cauldron of crapola. “I bet the guys at your school had a real good time staring at your hooters. And you can bet they weren’t thinking very nice things about you.”
“Hooters,” she gasped. “That’s disgusting. You’re so mean to me. You always say mean things.”
Hooters wasn’t a bad word. Was it? “I’m telling you how guys think. If you show up in a big padded bra, with your breasts falling out, they’ll think you’re smutty.”
She looked at him as if he were a child molester instead of her brother who wanted to protect her from the little perverts at her school. “You’re sick.”
Sick? “No, I’m not. I’m just trying to tell you the truth.”
“You’re not my mom or my dad. You can’t tell me what to do.”
“You’re right. I’m not Dad and I’m not your mother. I may not be the best brother either, but I am all you’ve got.”
Tears leaked from her eyes and messed up her makeover. “I hate you, Luc.”
“No, you don’t. You’re just throwing a fit because I won’t let you walk around in a padded bra.”
“I bet you like women who walk around in padded bras.”
Actually, he’d grown an affection for, and an obsession with, small breasts.
“You’re a hypocrite, Luc. I’ll bet your girlfriends wear padded bras.”
Out of all the women he’d known, the one woman who had fascinated him the most didn’t wear a bra. He wondered what that said about him. He tried not to care, but he did. His cauldron of crapola churned a bit more.
“Marie, you’re sixteen,” he reasoned. “You can’t walk around in a bra that turns boys on. You’ll have to wear something else. Maybe a bra that has locking hooks.” That last he’d thrown in to be funny. As always, she failed to share his humor. His sister burst into tears.
“I want to go to boarding school,” she wailed and ran to her bedroom.
Her mention of boarding school set him back on his heels. He hadn’t thought of boarding school for a while. If he sent her to boarding school, he wouldn’t have to worry about her wearing padded bras when he was out of town. His life would be simpler. But suddenly the thought of her going away held not the slightest appeal. She was a pain and moody, but she was his sister. He was getting used to having her around, and the thought of boarding school no longer seemed like any kind of solution.
He followed her to her room and leaned a shoulder into the doorframe. She lay on her bed staring up at the ceiling, her arms spread out like she was a martyr on the cross.
“Do you really want to go to boarding school?” he asked.
“I know you don’t want me here.”