“I do not have a crush on Harley.”

  She sighed. “Yeah, you do. It's like when Flynn had his thing for Daphne.”

  “It is not like that,” I ground out.

  I really didn't think it was like that. Flynn had been head over heels with Daphne pretty much from the day she showed up here. It just took him a while to figure it out.

  Cat shrugged. “Suit yourself. I think she kind of likes you too.”

  “What?” Unfortunately, I didn't catch myself fast enough on that.

  Cat burst out laughing. “See, you want to know, don't you?”

  I sighed. “Whatever.”

  “You two have it bad for each other, but you do that thing.”

  “What thing?”

  “Playing it cool. Although she's way worse than you about it.”

  I knew Cat had a point. I just didn't know Harley had been playing it cool about me. I wasn't about to ask any further questions. I simply said, “Well, I don't know about me, but you're right about Harley. She plays it cool about everything. I'll tell you what. If she's good at poker, don't play with her.”

  Cat eyed me. “What do you mean about that?”

  “People who play it close to the chest like she does all the time are probably pretty good at not letting anyone know when they have a good hand. Got to be careful.”

  “I don't think I'm good at poker,” she announced.

  “Should we practice?”

  At Cat's nod, I fetched a deck of cards out of the drawer by the couch, and we began playing.

  We were a few hands in when she asked, “Do you miss Mom?”

  I looked up quickly. “Of course, I do.”

  Out of all of us, Cat spoke about Mom the least. I was pretty sure she missed her the most. I figured losing someone you loved was a relative experience in a sense. The way it was for me might not be the way it was for someone else. Cat had been the youngest, and she'd also carried more of the brunt of our dad. Flynn had a different dad from us, but his dad had simply been gone. He’d knocked up our mom, and that was it. She’d never heard from him again. I didn't know what was worse.

  Later, when our dad’s health started to fail, and he needed our mom, he hung around more. That meant more arguments and more drinking. Nora and I had been a little older. Not that it had been easy, but we’d managed. He’d scared Cat, and we all knew it.

  “I’ll always miss Mom,” I added. When she looked up quickly, I saw the sheen of tears in her eyes. “You okay?”

  Her lips twisted. Her voice was a little thick when she spoke. “I've just been thinking about her lately. I'm eighteen now, and she's not here.” She swung her arm in an arc. “She didn't get to see that you guys built this. She didn't get to see everything Flynn and you did.”

  A tear rolled down her cheek, and she swiped it away quickly. Cat did not like to be hugged when she was crying, so I waited.

  “And, now I'm all grown up. She doesn't even get to taste the food that I cook.”

  “No, she doesn't,” I said, my throat feeling tight.

  “I wish you'd been here.”

  “What do you mean?” I prompted.

  “I understand why you went to college, but I missed you. It was so scary that night when she collapsed.”

  I took a quick breath. I knew Cat wasn't trying to guilt me, but I still felt like hell about it.

  “I know. I wish I'd been there too.”

  “It wouldn’t have changed anything,” my little sister said softly.

  I nodded. I’d mentally replayed what the doctor at the emergency room had told us the next day. He said we couldn't have stopped it. She had hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, something that caused the heart muscles to thicken and could occasionally disrupt the heart’s electrical system and result in sudden death. Even though I’d intellectually believed the doctor, I harbored emotional doubts.

  “I know,” I said, my voice ragged on the edges.

  “Nora and I weren’t doing too great.”

  “Nora was sixteen. She hated life,” I offered.

  Cat giggled a little and swiped another tear away. “Thanks,” she said quietly.

  “For what?”

  “For always being there.”

  “I wasn't there that night,” I pointed out.

  “No, but you drove down from Anchorage in the dark and met us at the hospital. You convinced the court to let you be our guardian until Flynn could get here.”

  It had taken Flynn weeks to get back. He was across the world on active duty in the Air Force at the time. As a young college kid, the judge had had his doubts about me. Having grown up in the area, I had several people support me, including a friend of our mom’s who promised to check on us regularly. They allowed me to be the temporary guardian until Flynn could get home. After that, I stayed home. I’d eventually finished my college degree, but in fits and starts with most of it online. I hadn't been able to bring myself to leave after that and hadn't wanted to.

  “What if one of us has that?” Cat asked.

  “We don’t. We’ve all been checked since,” I pointed out.

  She took a breath. “I know, but I worry.” After a beat, she added, as if to herself, “All right, I'm done with this conversation.”

  That was classic Cat. She didn't like being hugged when she was crying, and when she was done with a heavy topic, she just wanted to move on. We continued playing cards.

  After I went to bed later and I knew Cat was in her room, I knocked lightly on the wall between my bedroom and Harley’s. A moment later, my door opened, and Harley tiptoed into the room.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Harley

  “Here you go.” Gemma handed me a glass of water.

  I was seated in her kitchen on a stool at the counter with my feet hooked around the rungs. “Thank you.” I took a swallow, glancing out the windows.

  Gemma had purchased this home with Diego. The house came with horses, and I watched one of them nibbling grass along the edge of the fence. The home sat on a rise, offering a view of Kachemak Bay in the distance through the trees. Sunshine glittered on the surface of the water, the wind ruffling it and creating little sparks of light.

  Looking back toward Gemma, I watched as she stirred meat in a pan. She was making tacos. She had invited me over for dinner with her and Diego, something she did fairly often.

  She glanced over, casting me a quick smile.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Just thinking I'm glad you are who you are,” she replied.

  “Same.” I loved Gemma, and she was perfect for my brother.

  She turned the flame down under the pan, setting a lid on it, and turned around to face me. She smoothed a hand over her rumpled, honey-blond curls, her eyes sparkling with her smile.

  After a second, her gaze sobered. “I invited you over early because Diego's worried.”

  “Worried?” I interjected.

  She sighed. “Yes.”

  Even though she didn’t spell it out, I knew she was referring to his concern about my health. “It’s fine. I have a minor heart issue.”

  Gemma's brow furrowed, her concerned gaze skating over my face. “A minor heart problem? You're pretty young for a heart problem.”

  I shrugged, ignoring the nervous feeling in my belly. “Apparently, there's a family history of it.”

  “But what is it?”

  “It’s this thing where sometimes my heart goes too fast or skips a beat. It’s called supraventricular tachycardia or SVT.”

  Gemma nodded slowly. “Okay, so what does it mean?”

  “Well, if it's happening, and if I get up too quickly or something like that, I might faint. That's what Grant saw. But it's fine,” I insisted. “I haven't fainted that many times.”

  “How many times?” Gemma pressed. She pushed away from the counter, crossing over to slide her hips onto a stool across from where I was sitting at the island.

  She looked way too worried for my comfort level. “It's really not much, I swear. Have you ever fainted?”

  “Yeah. Heat stroke one summer.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “We traveled to the beach on the East Coast. I wasn't used to the humidity.”

  “See, fainting happens,” I said, striving to keep my tone nonchalant.

  She cocked her head to the side. “You know, I'm giving you a dry run.”

  “What?”

  “A dry run. Diego is going to show up, and you could use some practice.” She glanced at her watch. “He’ll be here in about fifteen minutes. He’s going to ask you all the same questions. I know you don't want him to worry, but it'd be best if you're honest. Is there anything we can help with?”

  “I do not need help,” I ground out.

  Gemma lifted her hands, letting them fall lightly on the counter. “I didn't say you did, but Diego wants to help.”

  “There's nothing he can do.” I took another gulp of water, willing the churning in my stomach to slow down.

  “So is that the whole story?”

  “Yes,” I lied.

  I wasn't about to tell her that Quinn recommended I take medication. I didn't want to take medication. I wanted to just manage it. It wasn't that I was opposed to medicine in general. Just not for me.

  Gemma studied me quietly. “What does Quinn think?”

  I lied again. “He’s prescribed some medication, and I’ll start soon.”

  Just then, we heard the door to the front of the house opening. Gemma glanced at me, her lips twitching with a smile.

  “Thanks for the practice,” I teased.

  “He’s early.”

  “You knew he would be. He's ready to grill me.”

  She snorted a laugh.

  Diego appeared a moment later, tossing his backpack in a closet. As he shrugged out of his jacket and kicked his boots off, he called over, “Hey!”

  Gemma slipped off the stool and crossed over to him. “Hey there. Dinner should be ready soon.”

  For a moment, I might as well have been invisible. Diego dipped his head, giving her a lingering kiss. I looked away, feeling a pang in my chest. Their intimacy was so evident that it was almost its own force.

  My mind skipped over to Grant, and I immediately shoved him out of the way. I did not need to be dwelling on hot nights with Grant while having dinner with my brother.

  A moment later, Gemma returned to the stove to check on the meat. Diego opened the refrigerator and fetched a bottle of beer. He turned to face me as he removed the cap and tossed it in the wastebasket.

  “Hey, how was your day?” I asked.

  After finishing a swallow of his beer, he crossed over, sitting on the stool Gemma had just vacated. “Pretty good. Busy.”

  “You're always busy.”

  “I could say the same about you,” he replied.

  I shrugged. “I like it that way.”

  “So do I,” he teased after another swallow of his beer.

  I called over to Gemma, “Do you need me to do anything?”

  She glanced over, shaking her head. “Nope. Everything's already prepped.” My gaze scanned the counter where she had prepared small bowls of taco fixings. “I'm putting the soft shells in the oven right now.”

  “I am freaking starving,” Diego announced when he put his beer bottle on the counter.

  “You’re in luck. Gemma's cooking you dinner,” I teased.

  Gemma called over, “He cooks as much as I do.”

  “I know he does. He's a good man.”

  When I glanced toward Diego, he had a familiar focused look in his eyes, studying me.

  “What?” I asked automatically.

  “What's up with you fainting?”

  I sighed. “Didn’t Terese tell you?”

  “Yeah, she said it's a heart thing our aunt had and not to get too worried.”

  “Well, don't worry then. That should be enough information for you,” I countered.

  Diego narrowed his eyes. “Harley…” he began.

  “Just because I'm your little sister doesn't mean I’m required to give you a blow-by-blow.”

  “Did you tell Gemma?”

  “Fine. It's a thing where my heartbeat can be irregular and sometimes skips a beat. That's it.”

  “What does that mean? Grant said you fainted.”

  “I did. I think that night it was because I hadn't eaten anything. Combining that with this, I fainted.”

  “How many times have you fainted?”

  “Oh my God,” I muttered. “Not many. So few I haven't kept count.”

  I was lying. I knew exactly how many times I’d fainted—six times. I was not about to offer more details to my overprotective brother.

  “What did Quinn say?”

  “I have an appointment with him next week to talk about a medication recommendation.”

  “Can I talk to him?”

  “No. Diego, it's not necessary for you to talk to him.”

  I really didn't want him talking to my doctor. That just felt weird.

  Gemma swooped in. “Time for dinner,” she said as she set a bowl filled with taco meat in front of us. She turned to get the taco shells out of the oven.

  “Are they going to be crispy?” I asked.

  She shook her head as she lifted them with a spatula onto a plate.

  Diego didn’t get the memo. “It’s just your regular doctor, not your OBGYN.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Diego, if it becomes necessary for you to talk to my doctor, you can talk to my doctor. This is not an emergency.”

  He lifted his beer and took a swallow before replying, “Promise me you'll keep me in the loop.”

  “Absolutely.” I would keep him in the loop. I just wouldn't tell him the whole story.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Harley

  A full week had passed since my first night with Grant. Since then, we'd spent a few stolen hours together every night. We mostly used my bedroom because it was a little farther away from Cat’s, which was directly across the hall from Grant’s room. Grant would spend a few hours with me before getting up early and slipping back into his bedroom. I even noticed that he was going out of his way to leave his bed unmade so Cat wouldn't suspect anything.

  That made the whole thing feel even more sneaky. I secretly loved it. I was coming to crave my skin-to-skin time with him. Yet it was doing absolutely nothing to achieve my goal of burning him out of my system.

  I kept telling myself I wasn't going to catch feelings for him. I couldn't help the thrill of anticipation that sizzled through me when I opened the door Friday and found him alone on the couch.

  “Where's Cat?” I asked.

  He glanced my way, and the heat banked in his gaze sent my belly into a wild flip. “She's staying in town tonight with a friend.”

  “Oh.”

  I felt the burn of his gaze on me as I hung my jacket up and kicked off my shoes. My purse fell to the floor with a thud.

  Every night with him had been fiery hot, and now we didn't have to keep it quiet. All that pent-up tension was like an engine revving too hard and fast in my body.

  As soon as I began crossing the room, he stood from the couch. We reached each other in two strides. His hand slid into my hair as he dipped his head and fit his mouth over mine. Our kiss combusted. Sparks and smoke practically flew from the force of the explosion. We were hungry for each other, near frantic as we tugged at each other’s clothes.

  “Fuck, Harley,” he groaned.

  I unbuttoned his jeans, quickly sliding my palm down. I was greedy to feel him. My hand closed around his velvety-hot length, and I shifted my thighs, already wet and needy for him.

  “Well, that's the point, isn't it?” I murmured as I strung kisses across his now bare chest.

  His throaty chuckle sent tingles spinning like little pinwheels of sparks over my skin. I needed to taste him. Impatient, I shoved his jeans and boxers down at once, and his cock sprang free.

  I leaned over, swirling my tongue around the tip, savoring the salty tang of his cum. His fingers laced in my hair, and the sting on my scalp spun into the rest of the sensations stampeding through my body.

  “Fuck, sweetheart. Not yet,” he growled.

  My mouth closed around him, and I sucked him in deeply. His hand fisted more tightly in my hair as I curled my palm around his wet length, letting it slide up and down. I teased him with my mouth and tongue, sucking deeply again.

  “Harley…” He let out a groan just before his cum spurted into my mouth.

  “I was impatient,” I explained as I rose up, swiping my tongue across my bottom lip.

  Grant’s eyes darkened. “Your turn,” he murmured in a low whisper.

  He spun me around. He'd already divested me of my shirt, and he trailed his knuckles lightly along the lace edge of my bra. My nipples tightened in anticipation. A moment later, cool air hit them as he undid the clasp and pushed my bra off my shoulders.

  “Hmm, where should I start?” His fingers trailed down the side of my neck, sending goose bumps prickling over the surface of my skin.

  His touch was as light as air and barely a whisper, but it felt like flames licking over my skin. That fiery touch trailed down, teasing one nipple and then the other as he watched me. My channel was clenching.

  “Grant,” I begged.

  “Oh, no, sweetheart. You bought yourself a ticket to me taking my time. I need to get ready for round two.”

  My mouth fell open with a little gasp when he lightly pinched a nipple. His mouth followed, closing around my nipple and giving a sharp suck. I cried out. Even the feel of his low chuckle on my skin was yet another sensation, something else to amp up the need driving me.

  He teased my breasts, my thoughts blurring as fierce desire rushed through me. He hadn’t even unbuttoned my jeans yet. I started to get impatient and reached between us, but he pushed my hands away.

  “That's for me.”

  I was acquainted with Grant’s maddening tendency to drag things out. I knew what lay at the end of this torture—an explosive, body-shattering orgasm.

  So I acquiesced. By the time he finally unbuttoned my jeans and shoved them down over my hips, my panties were drenched. He pushed them to the side, teasing his fingers in my folds, murmuring, “Just for me.”