to a millionaire, huh?”
Sonya took a step back. She was used to Tootsie’s veiled putdowns, but not overt antagonism.
“Just remember, I knew Muffy for twenty years before you were born. I know what she needs most, and she doesn’t need to be treated like some invalid.”
Astonished, Sonya watched Tootsie climb into her Cadillac. That woman had some nerve. And speaking of nerve…As the Caddy roared off, Sonya turned to see John Michael opening the box of chocolates Tootsie had shoved at him.
“You aren’t giving those to Mother.”
“Of course not. Want one?”
“No, I don’t want one! I can’t believe you just overruled me like that! You moved my arm like it was nothing and let her in.”
“I got rid of her, didn’t I?”
Come to think of it, he had.
“I was using psychology on her,” he explained. “You have to make Tootsie believe she’s the one making the decisions. She hates waiting around, so I knew she wouldn’t when I gave her the option.”
“The physical therapist isn’t really here, is she?”
“She’s scheduled for two o’clock. Are you sure you don’t want a chocolate?”
“You know I do. Why do you even tempt me?” Sonya had a wicked sweet tooth, but she usually didn’t let herself have candy. She had a tendency not to stop once she started.
He popped a chocolate-covered caramel into his mouth. Speaking of temptations, she wished he wouldn’t parade around the house in gym shorts and a snug T-shirt that showed off every muscle. Didn’t he know it was December? No wonder Tootsie had practically drooled.
He held the box out to her. “You don’t exactly need to worry about gaining weight.”
Sonya had dropped some weight. And chocolate was an antioxidant and an antidepressant, she rationalized. Sonya remembered reading that happy news in the books on diet and nutrition Dr. Cason had given her. She reconsidered the chocolate. “Maybe I’ll have just one piece—for the therapeutic value, of course.”
“Of course.” He extended the box toward her.
After making a careful inspection of the available candies, she selected one that looked like it had almonds in it. “Almonds are just bursting with Omega-3 fatty acids,” she said, and settled it gently on her tongue. The candy was exquisite. Of course, Tootsie never bought anything that wasn’t first-rate and superexpensive. Sonya chose another, a miniature cherry truffle. Cherries were fruits. That had to be healthy. “Oh, my, these are good.”
McPhee set the box down on a small gilt table in the foyer, which was flanked by two delicate Louis XV chairs. He sat in one, and Sonya automatically sat in the other. No way was she going to let him hog all that chocolate.
“We really should share these,” she said.
“The box has three layers. Plenty for all.”
“Oh, okay.” Sonya picked out a toffee. “I wish I knew how you manipulated Tootsie so easily. If I had told her she couldn’t visit Mother during physical therapy, she’d have just argued me into the ground until she got her way.”
“She’s old-fashioned. She defers to males, even if they’re only servants.”
“I don’t think of you as a ‘servant,’” she said, feeling charitable. Chocolate had that effect on her. “You’re part of the family.” She realized how stupid that sounded almost before the words had left her lips.
McPhee laughed, soft and deep in his throat. The sound vibrated along Sonya’s nerve endings. “Funny, I don’t feel at all like a brother.”
Sonya stuffed another chocolate into her mouth. She didn’t even make a careful selection this time, just grabbed the one closest. He was right, of course. She never would have treated a brother as coldly as she’d treated McPhee over the past ten years. But she never would have had romantic feelings for a brother, either.
Once she’d let the lid off that particular Pandora’s Box, there’d been no going back. It would have been one thing if he’d returned her feelings. But when he’d indicated with crystal clarity that he was not open to romance, her only other choice had been coldness. To get over him, she’d had to convince herself she hated him.
She didn’t, of course. Never had. And she’d never exactly gotten over him. Even when Marvin had come along and swept her off her feet, she’d still sometimes lain awake at night, wondering how it might have been if McPhee had responded to her romantic overtures that night so long ago.
Now, maybe it was time she got over it. She wasn’t some teenager with a crush, even if she still felt that way sometimes. She was grown up. Holding on to a ten-year-old grudge was stupid, especially when she knew McPhee couldn’t help it that he hadn’t wanted to get involved with her. Just as she hadn’t been able to control her own emotions.
“McPhee, I’ve been horrible to you. And I’d like to apologize. I know one apology can’t make up for ten years of bitchiness…”
“Whoa, whoa!” McPhee shook his head, as if trying to clear his mind of some untenable thought. “Did you just apologize to me?”
“I was trying to. But if you’re going to be ugly about it—”
“No, please. Go on.”
She tried to ignore the trace of amusement evident in the set of his mouth, the sparkle in his brown eyes. “Mother’s illness has brought some things into focus for me. You just never know when you’re going to lose someone. I want to appreciate the people in my life before they’re gone and it’s too late.”
“I…thanks. Does this mean you forgive me?”
“For what?” she asked, pretending she didn’t know what he was talking about.
“You know what. That night. When everything changed.”
“Oh, that.” She waved away the notion that it was important. “I had too much to drink and I put you in an awkward position.”
“I could have handled the situation with a little more tact.”
“It’s ancient history, as far as I’m concerned.” And she was very proud of herself for having such a mature discussion about it. “We should have cleared the air about that years ago. But better now than never. I don’t want us to be enemies,” she added.
“No, I don’t want that, either. I don’t want to leave here on bad terms with you.”
Sonya sat up straighter. Suddenly all that burgeoning maturity fled like a flock of sparrows when a hungry cat jumps into their midst. ‘You’re not really leaving, are you?”
He looked at her the way he used to when she would ask a particularly dumb question about motorcycle maintenance. “I already told you that, right? That I’m going to work for the Sheriff’s Department?”
“Yes, but that was when you thought I was getting married.”
“I’m still going. My last day is still January 8.”
“But Mother—”
“—will have to get used to the idea. I want to go now, while my father is determined to stay off the sauce. If I stay, it might give him an excuse to give up, since he knows I’ll be here to rescue him.”
A few days ago, Sonya had actually been worried that she’d be stuck with her bodyguard for the rest of her life. She should have been immensely relieved that she would finally be rid of him.
But what she felt wasn’t relief, she was pretty sure.
She reached for another chocolate, but McPhee slid the box out of her reach. “You’re going to be sick if you eat any more of those.”