Cherished (Masters and Mercenaries #7.5)(7)

“Yep. I am the youngest Daley, and according to my sisters, the most obnoxious, but don’t let that fool you. I’m the smart one. Will there is the dunce of the family.”

His sisters? She managed to shake the younger woman’s hand but her mind was way too busy counting. “Three sisters?”

Lisa nodded as they dropped hands. “Yep. Me, Lila, and Laurel. Our mom wasn’t incredibly creative. Well, except when it came to getting her hands on drugs, and then she was brilliant.”

“Lisa.” It was good to know she wasn’t the only one he used that authoritarian, you’re-a-dumbass voice on.

He had three sisters and a mom who used drugs? What the hell? She had to know about the sisters. “So you’re his sister?”

Lisa’s grin widened. “Yes, I might have mentioned that.” She turned back to her brother. “She seems surprised. I think she might have been under the mistaken impression that you have a bunch of girlfriends. She doesn’t know you very well. He’s all about the job, but he’s got tonight off and I brought him a ridiculously good lasagna. It’s more than enough for everyone. Why don’t you stay for dinner?”

Shit. She felt the walls starting to close in. “Oh, I couldn’t. I have plans.”

Big plans. She was going to open a bottle of wine and feel sorry for herself and then drunk tweet. It was an exciting night for her.

Lisa shook her head and suddenly Bridget found herself being dragged into Will’s condo. “Oh, no, you really have to try my lasagna. Will eats like a five-year-old, so I worry he won’t appreciate it. And I brought a wine sure to complement it, but the big guy there told me he only drinks beer. Dude, you’ve been to college and everything. It’s time to upgrade the palate.”

“You’re a meddlesome thing,” Will said as he entered the condo. He crossed to the bar and uncorked the wine, pouring it into a glass before handing it to Bridget. “You might as well agree. That one tends to get what she wants.”

Bridget took the glass. It looked like she would need the alcohol. “Well, it’s okay. It might be nice to have a couple of people to talk to.”

Lisa’s eyes were lit with mischief as she made her way back to the door. “Oh, it’s only Will. I have to leave. I remembered I have a class. Night all. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”

Will walked to the door and let his sister out. “I don’t even want to know what that means.”

She winked his way and he shut the door behind her.

And Bridget felt the trap close. She was alone with Will Daley in his very nicely decorated condo. All alone with him and apparently he didn’t have a harem. He had meddlesome sisters and a bad mom. Her curiosity was at war with the deep need to preserve her own dignity. She set the glass down. “Well, I’m sure you have better things to do with your night.”

The door locked with a decisive click. “As a matter of fact, I don’t. I’m off call and it would be nice to have someone to talk to.” He stared at her for a moment. “Do you hate me so much you can’t even sit down and have dinner with me, Bridget? What did I do to offend you? I would appreciate the chance to make it up to you.”

Yep. The walls were closing in and the ground was shaking under her feet. She decided to go with complete and utter denial. Besides, it was true. She didn’t hate him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t have a problem with you. I barely know you.”

His eyes narrowed and she worried she’d fallen into another trap. “Yes, that was my point. You barely know me, but you avoid me at every given opportunity, and that seems strange to me when we have so much in common. We live in the same building and have the same friends.”

“Lots of people live in the building. I don’t spend a ton of time with any of them. Except Mrs. Magnussen. Somehow she corners me at least once a week and tells me about her grandson in Sweden. I think I might have a date with him.” She’d seen a picture and unlike most Swedes, Olaf was short and deeply unattractive. She was kind of happy there were whole continents between them.

He crossed to the kitchen and opened the fridge, grabbing a bottle of beer and flipping the top off. “All right. I’ll grant you we live in a time when not everyone knows their neighbors, but then we come to the problem of the club. You have to admit you avoid me at Sanctum. We’ve had what—two whole conversations? I’ve invited you over here for a drink three times now.”

“I was busy.” She’d been afraid she would walk into a big old orgy. Except the harem consisted of his sisters.

“You work a lot? I’m going to put together a salad. Romaine or butter lettuce?” He pulled out a big wooden salad bowl.

Unless she wanted to run out of the condo screaming, she wasn’t sure how she exited at this point. “Romaine, please. And yes. I have to. My income is directly tied to production, so I’m pretty much always working.”

“Writing? You’re a writer. You type all day?”

“Among other things. There’s more than writing. There’s promo and social networking and e-mails and dealing with my agent and publishers.” Some days she was lucky to get her word count in.

He worked efficiently, washing his hands and then tearing the lettuce with a precision and grace that spoke of his profession.