Cuff Me(24)

Their sister was a decent cook; hard not to be with the way their mother had determined to raise her only daughter to learn every Italian cooking tip she had flowing through her veins.

But for reasons that nobody understood, Elena could never be satisfied with just serving wine and beer when she hosted the family.

For that matter, she wasn’t satisfied with just basic cocktail ingredients either. Martinis. Manhattans. Gin and tonic. All fine.

No, Elena had a penchant for trying things like Elderflower Spritzes, and Parsley Lemongrass Margaritas.

In other words, his little sister had a serious skill for messing up good booze.

“Thanks,” he muttered to the bored-looking bartender who delivered three beers to their table.

He took a long sip. Then another. It wasn’t that he had to be plied with alcohol before family gatherings, but for this one…

He took another drink.

“Thanks,” he said to his brothers. Not thanks for the beer, so much as thanks for, well… understanding.

Understanding that he needed this for what was to come.

Jill’s boyfriend—no, fiancé—was in town.

Tom Whatshisface had arrived last night, and Elena had been planning his “welcome to the family” party all week.

Vin knew that he’d have to meet the guy eventually. Hell, he wanted to meet him, so he knew what he was up against. It was just…

He wasn’t looking forward to it.

“So you ready to talk about it?” Luc asked.

Vincent glanced up to find both brothers watching him, their expressions more serenely patient than usual.

“Talk about what?” Vin asked.

Anthony linked his fingers, set them on the table, and leaned forward. “Honestly, Vin? Cut the bullshit. We did this the other night, the whole dance around the topic. You’re our brother. We know you.”

Vincent opened his mouth to argue, but Luc picked up where Anth stopped. “If you don’t want to talk about it, we’ll respect that, but don’t pretend it’s nothing. Don’t pretend that you’re thrown off by the fact that your woman is getting married to someone else.”

Your woman.

He’d known, of course, that his brothers thought of Jill as his.

Knew that his whole family thought that. The Morettis, as a group, were not inclined toward subtlety.

But had Vincent ever known it?

He wasn’t sure.

He only knew that when faced with the prospect of her walking down the aisle toward another man…

His stomach clenched.

He took a deep breath. “Jill’s moving to Chicago.”

“No,” Anthony replied immediately, and the same second Luc let loose with, “The hell she is.”

“Yup. Fancy Pants Fiancé is opening up a hotel there or some shit.”

“And she’s going to what, just pack it up and follow him?” Anth said. “Become the little woman? Because that’s not—”

“She’s apparently got connections at Chicago PD. Or Tom does,” Vincent said, staring at the table. “She’s not done being a cop, she’s just done being a New York cop.”

Done being his partner.

Luc shook his head. “This has gone too far. What’s your plan?”

It took Vincent a moment to register that Luc was directing the question to him. “What makes you think I have a plan?”

What makes you think I have a say?

Anthony again leaned forward, his sanctimonious Big Brother face still firmly in place.

“Luc’s right. Enough with the playing-dumb bullshit. Are you in love with Jill Henley, or are you not?”

Vincent choked on his beer.

Cleared his throat, tried to talk, and started coughing again.

“I thought we agreed we weren’t going to freak him out,” Luc said under his breath to Anth.

“He can handle it,” Anthony said with a shrug.

“Look at him!” Luc pointed at Vincent. “He looks ready to pass out.”

Vincent felt ready to pass out.

How the hell had his brothers got it in their heads that he was in love with Jill? Or with anyone?

Vincent wasn’t even sure he knew what love was.

Family love, sure. He loved his parents. His sister. Loved his brothers, when they weren’t being delusional morons. He was crazy about his grandmother, and even Ava and Maggie, who were new to his life, but might as well be sisters…

But in love was a different animal altogether.

One that Vincent had never encountered.

He’d dated, sure. Not so much recently. Okay, so it had been a couple years since he’d done more than hook up with random women.

He didn’t do dating, not in the traditional sense. Not in the out-to-dinner, bring-her-home-to-Mom kind of way.

And he’d certainly never felt anything more than passing lust for the women whom he’d brought to his bed.

It wasn’t that Vin didn’t believe in love, the all-consuming, turn-you-into-a-sappy-moron thing. He wasn’t that cynical. He’d seen it every day growing up between his parents.

Hell, it had taken him seconds to understand what happened to Luc the second he met Ava, only to watch it all over again when Anthony met Maggie.

He believed in love. He did.

He just didn’t believe in it for him.