Tastes Like Candy

Twelve

Twelve

Candy

Jenny's evenings were devoted to bathing and putting Jack to bed, and catching some QT with Colin. But she kept her sunset routine. Between baby bedtime and adult bedtime, she liked to steal a few minutes to watch the sun kiss the night, out on the back deck, more often than not with a mug of tea rather than her old merlot habit. That was where Candy found her tonight, legs drawn up in her chair, mug held in both hands, face peaceful as the last crimson fissure flared along the horizon.

He had her trapped.

"There you are."

She glanced over as he took the neighboring chair. "Where else would I be?"

"I dunno. Scheming up more ways to get me hitched."

She stilled, eyes widening.

"Yeah. Your worse half told me all about your little EHarmony routine."

"Damn him, he wasn't supposed to say anything."

"Bros before–"

"Don't you dare say it, or I'll throw this hot tea in your face."

"What the hell are you thinking?" he asked, but without the malice he'd anticipated. It had always been impossible to stay angry with his little sister, and now proved no different. He could read her face like an open book, and he knew she'd done it out of love and with the best intentions. "I don't need to be worrying about little girls with daddy issues right now."

"I didn't make you sleep with her," she pointed out. "That was all you, buddy. And she said you were very sweet about it."

"Ah Christ, were y'all talking about it?"

"No. Just enough to know that she doesn't get around much." She sipped her tea. "And to tell the truth, I think she's a little afraid of what's going to happen next."

He realized he was frowning. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She stared out at the blackening sky and wouldn't look at him. "It means maybe I was wrong to try to set something up. Maybe you're too much for her." Her eyes darted over; he saw the fast white shine of them. "Or maybe she's too much for you."

He snorted. "Is that what you think?"

"I think if you weren't conflicted about her, you wouldn't be out here talking to me."

Damn. There was no good comeback to that.

"I think she's conflicted, too," Jenny continued. "So maybe you should both just play it low key and see if anything happens."

"Anything?"

"Chemistry. Feelings. Real shit."

"Real shit," he repeated. "Like what you've got with Colin?"

She sipped her tea.

"He wants to marry you, Jen."

Her voice became uncertain, shivery. "And I don't see any reason why I should ever get married again."

"Um, your baby. Maybe because you love that big moron."

"I got married for love before, remember?" she said quietly.

His own problems–wondering if Michelle would turn him away if he knocked on her door, wondering why he cared–were put into perspective. Those weren't problems at all, not like what Jen was dealing with. "Jen," he sighed, patiently. "Colin isn't Riley."