Steven shook his head, wondering how his older brother did it. From childhood on, it seemed as if Sean had always been able to read his thoughts, hone in when Steven was in turmoil, know when he needed to talk. A bloomin’ mind reader, he thought with a quirk of his lips. He slid him a sideways smile, nervous about revealing his weakness with Annie. “What makes you think something’s on my mind?”
Another gleam of teeth put Steven at ease, his brother’s easy manner taking the edge off an awkward subject. “Well, if the knuckled grip isn’t a dead giveaway, the tic in your jaw is.”
Steven glimpsed in the rearview mirror, shaking his head as he headed down the street. “I swear, you always did have a sixth sense.”
Sean hiked a well-worn Ked to the dash, leg jiggling along with the vehicle. “How do you think I managed to stay single so long? I could smell trouble a mile away, especially the female kind.”
“Yeah, well, me too,” Steven said, taking a corner with a zag of his lips, “which is why I’m looking for advice.”
The jiggling stopped. “This about Annie?”
Heat ringed Steven’s collar as he veered onto Sean’s street before coasting to a stop in front of his house. “Yeah,” he said, shifting the vehicle into park. He turned off the ignition and exhaled a noisy breath, sagging over the wheel. “I guess I like the kid more than I’m letting on, Sean, but I sure in the blazes don’t want anybody else to know, especially our mother or sisters.” He shook his head, gaze straight ahead. “That would be a living nightmare.”
“Well, they won’t hear it from me, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Sean paused. “But when you say you don’t want anybody to know . . . does that include Annie?”
Leaning back to rest his head on the seat, Steven closed his eyes. “Yeah, it includes Annie, but I think it may be a little late for that, especially after tonight. The kid may be naïve, but she’s smart. I’m pretty sure she can spot a sucker in love when she sees one.”
“Are you?” Sean studied him while he idly tossed the ball from hand to hand.
Steven slid him a sideways glance, hackles prickling again. “A sucker in love? Heck, no,” he emphasized with a press of lips, unwilling to admit Annie controlled the relationship. “Or at least I don’t want to be. I mean, I like Annie a lot . . .” He rested his arm on the open window, thumb tracing the leather casing. “But I’m not a guy who likes the girl to call the shots.”
“When you say ‘call the shots’ . . . ,” Sean said slowly, “what do you mean, exactly?”
Steven stared out his window, his comfort level sinking along with his stomach. “I mean controlling the relationship, telling me what I can and cannot do, you know—things.”
Sean’s pause was too long to suit. “You mean sexual things, like keeping you in line?”
“Yeah,” Steven said, suddenly feeling as big a jerk in front of Sean as he had in front of Annie. He peered at his brother. “Look, Sean, I’m not talking about going too far or anything like that, but the kid about had a conniption tonight when I kissed her, telling me if it happened again, we were through.”
A low whistle parted from Sean’s lips. “Over a kiss? That must have been some kiss. You don’t find many women like that around anymore. Did you cross the line or something?”
Fire singed the back of his neck. “Are you kidding? In her aunt’s house? Not on your life. It was just an innocent kiss on the floor, nothing more.”
The ball froze midair. “On the floor?” Sean’s voice climbed an octave. “As in stretched out . . . the two of you . . . side by side?” He whistled again. “Gotta tell you, Steven, that’s asking for trouble.”
“Yeah, well, apparently she thought so too, ’cause she read me the riot act, tripping my temper so fast, I wanted to wash my hands altogether.”
“Why?”
Steven stared, jaw gaping. “Why? Because I’m a grown man, that’s why. An adult who doesn’t like some kid telling me how it’s going to be.”
“Wait—aren’t you the one always complaining how loose the women are today?” Sean asked, the ball back in action. “I would think a girl like Annie would be a breath of fresh air.” He hesitated, the ball slowing again. “Unless, of course, that’s not really what you’re looking for . . .”
“I’m not looking for anything,” Steven said too quickly, “except spending time with a girl I like and maybe having a little fun—period. I’ll tell you one thing I’m not looking for, though, is getting serious now or anytime soon.”
“Sounds like your idea of ‘fun’ might conflict with Annie’s, then.” Sean quietly placed the ball on the seat between them. “And God’s.”
Steven slid his brother a narrow gaze. “Come on, Sean, you’re not going to sit there and tell me that you didn’t do your fair share of necking before Emma, because I know better. And that’s all I’m talking about here, nothing more.”
Sean released a weighty sigh. “No, I’m not going to tell you I didn’t get off track a few times, because I did, which is something I’m not proud of. But . . . that’s exactly why I know your idea of ‘fun’ could lead to way more than you bargain for, Steven. You should know that better than anyone after your relationship with Maggie.”
Steven pinched the bridge of his nose, his tone defeated. “I know,” he said quietly, “which is why I’m worried. I like the kid a lot and the last thing I want to do is mess this up.”
“Then Annie’s the perfect girl, because it doesn’t sound like she’ll let you.”
Steven grunted. “Maybe not now,” he said with a harsh laugh. “But trust me, when I fall for a girl and she falls for me? I have this uncanny ability to push until we both regret it.”
“Then don’t.”
The corner of his lip cocked up. “Easier said than done. When I was crazy in love with Maggie, it was just second nature to express it.” He studied Sean out of the corner of his eye. “Did you and Emma struggle with that? You know, before you two got married?”
Sean’s chest rose and fell as he peered out the windshield, a faint smile on his lips. “Surprisingly no, but only because I loved her so much, I never wanted to hurt her that way.”
His brother’s words stung. “I loved Maggie too,” Steven said too sharply, “but I still couldn’t keep my hands off of her, and she couldn’t keep hers off me.”
Sean slipped him a sympathetic smile. “I know, it’s near impossible when God’s not a part of the equation, as I discovered before Emma.” He exhaled. “But with Emma, doing things God’s way was so important to her, that it became important to me too. Even so, I never could have done it without God’s help, because as you discovered with Maggie, when you love someone, you crave that closeness. A closeness God fully intends between a man and wife, not a couple who are dating or even engaged. And with good reason.”
“Yeah, and what’s that?” Steven asked, more than a little cynicism creeping in. The tendons in his jaw automatically tightened at the mention of God. Faith in God might be a big part of his brother’s life now, but to Steven—and Sean, not so very long ago—God was little more than an hour in a pew once a week and an occasional pass through the confessional, no matter how much his family depended on him.
Sean sized him up through pensive eyes, as if contemplating whether Steven would receive what he had to say. “Because God wants us to have the best marriage and relationship possible, and he knows that can’t happen without him. He built it into the process, Steven, when he created us—blessing based on obedience, kind of like a spiritual gravity.” Flipping the basketball into the air, he caught it again with a practiced palm. “You throw a ball in the air, and it falls back down.” He tossed the ball back on the seat, eyes locked with his brother’s. “It’s the same with God’s precepts—apply them, and blessings fall on everything in your life. And when you apply them in a relationship with a woman you care about?” His gaze was steady and firm. “Not only does it deepen and enrich your relationship with God, but with the woman you lov
e. Suddenly everything in the relationship is stronger—the emotional bond you share, the trust you have with each other, and your own self-respect. Not to mention a peace and joy you never dreamed possible.”
“I don’t know, Sean,” Steven said slowly, “sounds too good to be true.” He snatched the ball and rotated it with his thumbs, eyes fixed on the movement.
Sean scratched his sandpaper jaw. “Yeah, I know, and trust me, I wouldn’t have believed it either if I hadn’t experienced it for myself. But I’m telling you, Steven, it’s the only way to fly.” He cuffed his brother’s shoulder. “So if you really care about Annie like you say, why on earth would you risk cutting her off from God’s blessings to gratify your own desires?”
Steven stared, the truth of his brother’s statement hitting him square in the chest. “I guess I wouldn’t,” he whispered, slowly lowering the ball to his lap. He sighed and handed it over to his brother, his voice quiet. “I’m just not sure I have the same control you had with Emma.”
Sean bobbled the ball in his hand. “You can . . . but only with God’s help.”
“Yeah, well, that might be a problem.” Steven rubbed the back of his neck. “Don’t get me wrong—I believe in God, but I don’t have a whole lot of trust in him, at least not like you.”
Sean grunted. “Yeah, well, neither did I . . . before Emma. And nobody knows that better than you.” Opening the car door, he got out and closed it once again. He leaned in then, ball under his arm and palms on the windowsill, an intensity in his eyes belying the calm of his face. “You know, Steven, you’ve always been the kind of kid searching out answers wherever you could—first with science and magic as a boy, then with girls and booze in college. Even as a federal agent, you drive yourself harder than anybody I know, but it’s never enough. Whether in school, with Maggie, or even in your job, you’ve always been restless—a man on the hunt for some elusive happiness you’ve never been able to find.” The semblance of a smile shaded his lips. “This is it, Steven, this is what you’ve been looking for all of your life—a faith in God that will bring you true joy. Don’t be stupid like me and let ten years go by without it, because the truth is . . . you can trust him.” He stood up straight and tapped his palm twice on the roof. “G’night, kid—thanks for the lift.”
Steven watched his brother’s shadow disappear into the house, and although Sean’s words brought him a sense of peace, he still felt that restlessness stirring inside. It just seemed all too easy, too pat, especially for someone who didn’t really deserve the kind of peace his brother mentioned. Turning the ignition, he shifted into gear and eased down the road, not sure if he was ready to invoke the help of some invisible deity he’d defied more than once.
You can trust him, Sean had said, something Steven might actually consider at some point in time. His lips slanted as he headed for home.
Because God knows he couldn’t trust himself.
13
Annie? It’s always great to see you, of course, but . . . why aren’t you in school?”
Annie gave Faith a weak smile, a stack of textbooks in her arms. “My last class was cancelled, so I took a chance you might be home.” She drew in a deep breath and released it again with a quivering sigh, gaze flicking from the wash basket on Faith’s hip to the quiet house beyond. “But if you’re busy, I can come another time.”
“Don’t be silly.” Shifting the basket, Faith tugged Annie into the house with her free hand. “This is perfect timing because I don’t have to pick the girls up from school for another two hours, so I have plenty of time for girl talk and tea.” She wiggled her brows. “And I have cookies . . . ,” she said in a singsong voice that brought a smile to Annie’s face.
She closed the door and ushered Annie down a hall emblazoned with pictures of Collin and the girls. Annie stopped midway, heart swooping at an old family photo of the O’Connors when Steven was small. He looked so sweet and serious, probably no more than eight at the time, hands shoved deep in his pockets like he was often prone to do. The walls of her throat thickened as she studied him, tracing a finger from the rumpled dark hair that fell into shy eyes, down the plaid suit that couldn’t hide a little boy’s spindly frame.
“He was always such a sweet kid,” Faith said over her shoulder, affection softening her tone. “I swear, the patience of Job in dealing with Katie, and never a lick of trouble . . . or at least not till college.”
Annie’s smile faded. “You mean till Maggie,” she said quietly, grateful she’d finally confided in Faith that Maggie was her sister.
Faith braced Annie’s shoulder and led her to the kitchen at the back of the house where the heavenly smell of snickerdoodles wafted in the air. “It takes two, Annie,” she said, steering her into a spindled oak chair at a well-worn kitchen table. She set the laundry basket down and filled a kettle for tea. “Maggie wasn’t the first girl Steven got involved with, you know, only the one he dated the longest, so he was no angel when they met, trust me. The trouble started when he and Joe fell in with a fast crowd the summer before college, and everything changed after that. But I will admit, he and Maggie were not very good for each other.”
The sound of Faith’s words caused Annie to slump in the chair. “Well, that’s actually one of the things I wanted to talk about, Faith.” She sucked in a calming breath. “I’m not sure Steven and I are good for each other either.”
Faith turned at the pantry where she was rifling through a selection of tea. “What do you mean?” she asked with a frown. “You’re perfect for my brother, Annie—we all think so.”
“Maybe not,” she whispered, cheeks warming from something other than the heat of the oven. “Your brother’s wearing me down, and I’m not sure how strong I can continue to be.”
With a blink of green eyes, Faith tossed the box of tea bags onto the counter and immediately pulled out a chair, leaning forward to place a hand on Annie’s arm. “But you said he stopped pushing after your ultimatum—that if he ever got fresh again, it was over.”
“Yes . . . ,” Annie said slowly, “and he’s been wonderful ever since—nothing more than a chaste kiss at the door.” She sat up with a shaky sigh, picking at her nails. “Until Saturday night, that is. All during the picture show he played with my hair, not even aware of what he was doing. Fondling my earlobe, grazing my palm with his thumb . . .” She shuddered. “I swear, Faith, I was ready to crawl out of my skin.”
Faith sat up with fire in her eyes. “For pity’s sake, why didn’t you slap his hand away?”
She swallowed hard, peeking up with a nervous chew of her lip. “Because I liked it, that’s the problem. It was so innocent and casual when he began, I never even thought anything about it till my body started to tingle, and then it was too late because by that time, I . . . ,” a shallow breath quivered from her lips, “wanted him to do it.” She hesitated, avoiding Faith’s eyes. “Which is why we kissed in the car for a while before he walked me to the door . . .”
Faith slammed a palm on the table, causing Annie to jump. “See? This is exactly what I’ve been talking about. When men are courting women, they seem to have a one-track mind.”
“No,” Annie said quickly, rising to Steven’s defense. “I don’t think Steven was even aware how he was affecting me. It’s me I’m ashamed of, Faith, for responding like I did.”
Faith folded her arms, gaze thinning along with her smile. “Oh, sure, and when Collin and I were engaged, the poor man had no earthly idea kissing my neck would weaken me at the knees, either.” She grabbed Annie’s shoulders and gave her a little shake, green sparks all but flying from her eyes. “Poppycock! This is exactly why you have to keep my brother in line, Annie. He’s older than you and has a lot of experience with women. Trust me on this—Steven knows exactly what he’s doing, just like Collin.” Annie’s head bobbled back and forth as Faith gave her another shake before she sagged back in her chair with a huff. She slapped her arm on the table, fingers drumming. “Oh, I wish Steven were here right now, so
I could shake the little brat silly for turning into such a . . . a . . . ,” she flailed a hand in the air, a storm brewing in her eyes, “man,” she finished with a clipped tongue.
Annie blinked and then giggled. “Goodness, I’ve never seen you so . . . volatile.”
The hard line of Faith’s mouth edged up while she peered at Annie through a sliver of eyes. “That’s because nothing lights my fuse like this, Annie—men who say they care about you, then disrespect your wishes. Sweet saints, it’s hard enough to stay pure until marriage without a man who supposedly loves you making it twice as difficult to say no.”
Annie sighed. “I wish Steven loved me,” she said sadly, “but I don’t think he does.”
“I was talking about Collin,” Faith snapped, eyes squinted in a hard stare as if recalling her past. “The man was so good when we were engaged, and then—BOOM! The month before we married, had to fight him off with a crowbar.” She looked up, gaze shrewd. “I don’t know if Steven loves you, Annie, but I do know this—he cares about you more than he’s cared about any girl in a long time. So you have to stand your ground if you want God to honor you with the kind of relationship you want with my brother.” She leaned in, jaw firm. “Before marriage is the only time a woman has control, so she has to use it wisely. After she’s married, God calls her to submit to her husband, so you may as well take advantage of keeping Steven in line now. Which means,” she said with a hike of her brow, “a good night kiss is fine, but when the flutters and tingles escalate, nip it in the bud, ’cause if you give ’em an inch, they’ll take a mile, understood?”
Moisture smarted in Annie’s eyes. “Yes, I understand, but I have to tell you—this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I’m so in love with Steven, just one look makes me weak all over, and so help me, Faith, when he tells me he cares about me, I literally melt in his arms.”