Whispering Rock (Virgin River #3)(40)

He leaned down and gave her a kiss on the head. “I’ll see you a little later.”

Brie jumped off her stool. “I’ll take you, Mel,” she said.

And then Jack noticed another thing. A lot had been happening around here, he guessed. While Mel went out the door with David, Brie took a slight detour, finding Mike, who was in a conversation with Paige across the room. She reached for his hand and, holding it, said something to him. Something that made him smile. He leaned toward her and put a peck on her cheek, gave her upper arm a brief squeeze and out the door she went.

That might not be a good thing, Jack thought. Brie didn’t know Mike the way he did.

Once the guest of honor was gone, the bar emptied of partiers. Paige had gone to settle her son into bed in the room upstairs, leaving the three men in the bar alone. Jack got down three glasses. He poured Preacher a shot of his favored whiskey while he chose a single malt scotch for himself. “Mike?” he asked.

“Sure,” he said.

“How were things while we were gone?” Jack asked Mike as he poured.

Mike shrugged. “Everything seemed fine,” he answered. “Preach?” Mike asked.

“Yeah,” the big man said. “Far as I know. Fine. The boy looks good, Jack. The Corps doesn’t seem to have beat him into mush.”

“I think he takes to it a little,” Jack said.

“No doubt,” Preacher said. He threw back his drink. “Can you boys lock up behind yourselves?”

“Sure thing,” Jack said.

Preacher went through the kitchen to his quarters and Jack tipped the bottle again, giving himself and Mike a splash. “I didn’t plan this,” Jack said. “But since it’s you and me—tell me about Brie.”

“Tell you what, Jack?”

“When she was leaving… It looked like there was something….”

“Spit it out.”

“You and Brie?”

“What?”

Jack took a breath, not happily. “Are you with my sister?”

Mike had a swallow of his whiskey. “I’m taking a day off tomorrow—taking her down the Pacific Coast Highway through Mendocino to look for whales, see the galleries, maybe have a little lunch.”

“Why?”

“She said she’d like to do that while she’s here.”

“All right, but you know what I’m getting at—”

“I think you’d better tell me, so I don’t misunderstand.”

“I’d like to know what your intentions are toward my sister.”

“You really think you have the right to do that? To ask that question?” Mike asked him.

“Just tell me what was going on between the two of you while I was gone.”

“Jack, you’d better loosen your grip a little. Brie’s a grown woman. From where I stand, we’re good friends. If you want to know how she sees it, I think she’s the one you have to ask. But I don’t recommend it—she might be offended. Despite everything, she tends to think of herself as a grown-up.”

“It’s no secret to you—she’s had a real bad year.”

“It’s no secret,” Mike agreed.

“You’re making this really tough, man…”

“No, I think you are. You spent some time with her tonight. Did it look to you like anything is wrong? Like she’s upset or anything? Because I think everything is fine and you worry too much.”

“I worry, yeah. I worry that maybe she’ll look to you for some comfort. For something to help her get through. And that you’ll take advantage of that.”

“And…?” Mike prompted, lifting his glass but not drinking.

“And maybe work a little of your Latin magic on her and walk away.” Jack drank his whiskey. “I don’t want you to do that to her.”

Mike put down his glass on the bar without emptying it. “I would never hurt Brie. And it has nothing to do with whose sister she is. Good night, Jack.” He left the bar.

Mike had to do a memory check, remember how he felt about his own sisters, try to get it straight in his head that some of this behavior was beyond Jack’s control. If Jack had looked at one of his younger sisters the way Mike was probably looking at Brie, he might have gotten his back up. Big brothers like me and Jack, we can get proprietary. It wasn’t right, but it was there.

It pissed Mike off. But more than that, it worried him. He didn’t really think he had much of a chance with Brie for a lot of reasons, but he didn’t want one of those reasons to be his best friend.

He wished he’d finished that whiskey.

It was a long time before Mike was able to sleep, even though he hadn’t slept much the previous two nights. He kept wishing Jack and Mel had stayed away a little longer. He’d lain beside her for two wonderful nights. She’d slept right up against him. Platonically, but it had been luxurious. In her sleep she would move closer, snuggle up against him, let him cradle her in the safety of his arms. Trusting him. Believing in him. Her scent still lingered in his mind, real enough so that every once in a while he would catch a whiff so memorable it was almost as though he could reach out and touch her.

But he was alone tonight. And when sleep finally did come, it was restless and fraught with dreams, the kind he hadn’t had in a long time.