by Jules Court
Brian shut the car off and turned to her. “Fifteen, twenty minutes tops,” he said. “Then we go chat with Sara’s friends. She has to have checked in with someone by now.”
Someone other than Priya. Someone who wasn’t busy screwing around with a cop. “This isn’t a good idea,” she said. “Can you drop me somewhere on the bus line? I promise to call you when I find Sara.” Just after she called Erin, her lawyer friend.
“I just need to drop off a present, then one beer, one burger, and we’re done. It’ll be quicker than waiting for the bus.”
“I don’t eat burgers.” The minute the words came out of her mouth, she wished desperately for a fishhook to pull them back in with. She sounded like the one turning eight, not his niece.
“The cow thing?” he asked.
“I’m not Hindu and it’s not a cow thing. I grew up vegetarian because my family is Jain. And while I’m at misrepresentations, karma isn’t Robocop. At the top of the long list of crimes to lay at John Lennon’s feet is misrepresenting an important concept and getting his twisted version handed down to the next generation. Why are you grinning?”
“Because you’re stalling,” he said.
“No, I’m not.”
“You’re afraid to meet my parents. It’s a big step in our relationship.”
An old memory surfaced. Justin’s voice sounded in her mind. “Like I could ever date someone like you. My parents would freak. But we can still hang out.” The meaning behind his words was clear. He still wanted to fuck her; he just didn’t want to be seen with her. “Besides, aren’t your parents going to like arrange a marriage or some shit after you graduate?” he’d added.
In the present day, she told Brian, “We don’t have a relationship.”
“Do you want to make out a little to take the edge off?”
He was joking. Last night had been an aberration. “I can’t believe you don’t have a girlfriend.”
“Shocking, isn’t it.”
“That was sarcasm.”
But the back and forth was, in what undoubtedly was his intention, distracting her from the nervousness of walking into a party. She could make a split-second medical diagnosis, remain calm in a crisis, face down horny bikers, and make out with a hot ginger cop against a wall. She couldn’t walk into a simple gathering without feeling like she’d reverted to her shy, awkward loser from high school self. The one who, when a boy finally took notice of her at the end of senior year, had been so desperate she’d believed anything he said. And then there was a tiny, ridiculous part of her that wanted Brian’s parents to like her.
Which was beyond ridiculous. A white picket fence, two-point-five children, and a chocolate Lab weren’t in their future. Those things weren’t in her future with anyone. Landing a good fellowship, then getting on staff at a decent hospital—that’s what was important. That’s what she’d worked so hard for, what Sara had sacrificed for.
And after today, she’d never see him again because they weren’t friends, they weren’t lovers, and they weren’t even on the same side. He wanted to solve a murder. She just wanted to protect Sara.
Brian touched her lightly on the shoulder. She looked up in surprise. Despite his teasing, he’d made a point of keeping physical space between them this morning. No doubt worried she’d gotten the wrong impression and would start clinging to him. He probably had women flinging themselves at him constantly.
“Everything’s going to be fine,” he said. “We’re going to find Sara, and if she saw something, I’ll keep her safe. I promise.”
She nodded, unable to speak over the tightness in her throat because of how badly she wanted to believe him.
She followed Brian and the sound of voices around the house to the backyard. About twenty or so people milled about, clutching plastic plates and tipping back bottles. More than a few of them sported red hair.
Brian clutched the wrapped present he’d pulled from the trunk of his car. “I’m going to put this on the table with the others. You want a beer?”
She shook her head. Day drinking, though tempting, wasn’t the solution to her problems.
She could tell the moment they were spotted because heads turned. A woman—who, based on the hair, had to be Brian’s sister—hustled over.
“Brace yourself for Hurricane Emily,” Brian said. “She’s blunt.”
If Emily hadn’t reached them in that moment, Priya probably would have said something about pots and kettles. After less than twenty-four hours in his company, she was already learning that Brian didn’t seem to possess much of a filter.
“Where’s the ice?” Emily asked.
“I forgot,” he said. “You want me to go out and grab some?”
But Emily didn’t seem as concerned about the ice as she was about Priya. Priya shifted uncomfortably while Emily eyeballed her. “So, you must be Priya.”
“I am.”
Emily’s face broke out in a smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes. “It’s really nice to meet you. I’m Emily, this one’s older and much wiser sister.”
Brian snorted. “When she wasn’t telling me I was an accident that Mom and Dad never wanted, she used to hold me down and tickle me until I cried.”
“And then you did the same thing to Will.”
“It’s the circle of life.”
“How long have you two been seeing each other?” Emily asked.
Priya said, “We’re not—” at the same time Brian said, “Just friends.”
“So, where’s your better half? Where’s Sophia?” Brian asked.
“Getting ice because I knew you’d forget.”
An older gray-haired man approached and grabbed Brian in a bear hug. “About time you showed up,” he said.
“Dad,” Brian said with obvious pleasure, returning the hug. When they separated he said, “This is my friend Priya.”
“Very nice to meet you, Mr. MacGregor.” The words emerged overly stiff and formal.
“Call me Jim,” he said, giving her a smile every bit as warm as his son’s. “Let’s introduce you around.” He put a friendly hand on her shoulder.
She looked at Brian, but his sister was already hustling him away. “Heather’s holding court with some of her friends,” Emily said. “If you don’t go kiss her ring, she’ll pout.”
Brian gave her a shrug and allowed his sister to lead him off, leaving Priya alone with his family.
Mr. MacGregor enthusiastically waved at a woman with a gray-and-red-streaked braid. “Eileen,” he called. “Come meet Brian’s girlfriend.” He beamed. “My wife,” he said to Priya. “Brian’s mother. She’s excited you’re here. Brian never brings anyone to family things.”
“I’m not...we’re not...” she attempted to get out, but Brian’s mother was already barreling down on her.
She instinctively shrank back, but Eileen enveloped her in a maternal hug anyway. She patted Eileen’s shoulder awkwardly in return.
Eileen pulled back. “So happy to meet you, Priya,” she said. “I hear you’re a doctor.”
* * *
Brian’s niece was in full-on princess mode, just like Emily warned. A plastic tiara sat askew in her red curls and she was in the midst of issuing commands to the little boy she was with. He obviously hadn’t been playing Heather’s reindeer games to her satisfaction.
At his approach, Heather quit bossing her playmate to squeal, “Uncle Brian!”
He scooped her up and swung her around. “Happy birthday, Ewok,” he said.
When he put her back down, she said, “I’m not an Ewok. I’m a princess.”
“You can’t be both?”
“Don’t be dumb,” she said in a spot-on imitation of Emily.
“You’re right,” he said. “Ewoks don’t have a monarchy. I think they’re governed by
a tribal elder.”
But, like his sister, his niece kept her eye on the prize. She wouldn’t be distracted from the important things by talk of space teddy bears. “What did you get me?” she demanded.
Emily and Sophia had declared unequivocally that Heather would remain an only child. His sister’s exact words had been, “One and done.” But his niece desperately needed some competition. Heather’s position as only grandchild had gone to her head. He should talk Will into knocking someone up since Brian wasn’t about to add any new members to the family any time soon. His bed had been as barren as the sands of Tatooine lately.
Except for Priya. The memory of waking up to the feel of her backside pressed up against him was one he shouldn’t be remembering at a child’s birthday party.
The first time he touched her hand, after she’d finished sewing him up, he’d felt it. A spark. His gut telling him, “go for it.” But, he’d listened to his head, which made excuses, like “you’re too busy” and “ask her out after things slow down.” But he was always too busy and things never slowed down. So here he was at a family party, pretending he’d sacked up and asked her out when he should have. If he had, they could go back to his place have some sweaty sex, and afterward eat ice cream while watching Star Wars.
But he hadn’t and now she was part of his investigation, which meant he couldn’t get too involved. She was a means to an end.
“So, what did you get me?” Heather tugged his hand with one of her tiny, sticky ones.
“What would your moms say about begging for presents?”
She pulled a face and he tried not to laugh. Emily said he encouraged Heather to be a brat. “Thank you for coming to my party, Uncle Brian,” she said in words that Emily and Sophia had obviously given her. She added an off-script theatrical sigh. “You don’t need to get me a present.”
“Then I guess I’ll just take it back to the store.”
“Uncle Brian!”
He readjusted her tiara. “Don’t worry, Ewok. I put your present with the pile.”
She beamed at him. “Okay. Now you can play superheroes with us.”
“I thought you were a princess.”
She gave him a duh look. “I’m a superhero princess.”
“Of course,” he said. He wasn’t about to ask for her logic as to why she could be a superhero and a princess, but not an Ewok and a princess.
“I can’t play right now,” he said. “I’m here with a friend who doesn’t know anyone else, so it wouldn’t be right to leave her alone.”
Heather screwed up her face and scanned the yard. “The one who looks like Princess Jasmine?”
“That’s her.”
“I guess she can play, too.”
“How about I come to your soccer game next week? We can play superheroes afterward. As long as you don’t make me be the useless guy with the arrows.”
It was enough to pacify Her Majesty, especially when another of her little friends arrived. He used the distraction to return to the grown-ups.
His eyes automatically swept the yard for Priya. His family was probably overwhelming her. He’d never have believed it if he hadn’t seen the saucer-like eyes she’d shot at him before his father hauled her away, but his prickly, sexy doctor was shy.
He located her in conversation with Will, his more attractive and sensitive brother, who was making her smile. It was a shy, sweet smile—one she’d never given him. She saved only the rough end of her tongue for him. Except for when he’d kissed her behind the strip club. He’d gotten a whole lot more of her tongue. In his mouth. Where he desperately wanted it again.
He reached into the cooler sitting next to the picnic table, grabbed some ice and ran it over the back of his overheated neck. But ice alone wasn’t enough to cool him off. He tossed the ice cube, grabbed a beer and popped the bottle cap.
He charted his trajectory toward Will and Priya, but on the way, he was forced to dodge his cousin, Susan. No doubt she wanted another discussion about police tactics. While he agreed with her about community policing and the dangers of the increased militarization of the police force, he wasn’t in the mood to get harangued. Especially not when his brother was moving in on his girl, who wasn’t actually his girl and wouldn’t ever be his girl, he reminded himself.
Will was telling her, “I work at the fire station in your neighborhood at the end of Hanover Street. You should stop in some time. I’ll give you a tour.”
Brian did the only thing he could—he snuck up behind Will. When Priya looked up, he put his finger to his lips. Then he placed his little brother in a headlock.
Will reacted instantly, throwing an elbow. “Dick,” he said through laughter.
Will’s blow to his gut knocked an “oof” out of him. He dropped the bottle he’d been clutching. “You spilled my beer, ass,” he said.
“You started it,” Will said.
Priya watched them with large eyes.
“Only child?” Will asked her.
She shook her head. “I have a brother, but he’s never put me in a headlock.”
“You should have seen what Brian did to anyone who tried to pick on me when we were growing up. He was the only one allowed to bully me.”
“Now you’re just trying to make me look good in front of my girl.”
“I thought you were just friends?”
Had Emily told him that or had Priya been quick to point out that she was available? “Go rescue Dad from the grill before he sets the backyard on fire. I thought I saw him reaching for the lighter fluid.”
Will rolled his eyes, but obediently departed.
“You seem to get along really well with your family,” Priya said.
From the corner of his eye, he saw another cousin, Matt, headed their way. He gave Matt a shake of his head to wave him off. He wanted Priya to himself for a minute. In return, Matt gave him the finger.
“Something funny?” Priya asked.
“Nothing. Just my cousin.”
“Oh,” she said, seeming to close back into herself.
“We get along now, but I had the normal teenage angst and issues,” he said quickly before she could completely retreat. “Fighting with Emily and Will, breaking curfew, drinking...but every teenager gets in trouble. Even you, right?”
“I never got in trouble. Sara did.” Her voice held a hint of sadness.
His instincts screamed there was a story there. One that would explain her driving need to save Sara, who—granted, he had yet to meet her—looked like bad news on paper.
“What about the rest of your family? Are you close to them?”
“Of course,” she said, but, from the way her mouth tightened, he could tell it was a lie.
“Has my family completely overwhelmed you?”
“They’re very...enthusiastic.”
“Sorry for the grilling. They’re pretty big on me settling down.” Which is why he didn’t bring his girlfriends around. Way too much pressure. He should have thought through the implications of bringing Priya. His mother was going to be so disappointed.
“So why no girlfriend?” she asked.
“Why no boyfriend?” he countered.
To his surprise, she actually answered. “I’m tired of making myself smaller so the men I’m involved with can be bigger.”
“What does that even mean? Except you’re dating the wrong guys.”
“My career’s important to me.”
“So’s mine.”
“But even guys who say they understand still get insecure and bitter that I won’t put their needs first, even though they don’t reciprocate. That my job as a woman is to be their emotional beast of burden.”
“Way to generalize about my whole gender.”
“You’re going to tell me that you never expect
ed your girlfriends to be endlessly understanding that your job was more important than theirs while remaining your emotional sounding board? But if they ever needed support, they were just being dramatic.”
“No. I just dated women who thought it would be hot to be with a cop, but, once the thrill of dating a guy with his own handcuffs wore off, couldn’t put up with the terrible hours and bad pay. And I manage my emotions like an adult just fine, but yeah, sometimes I want the person I’m seeing to be supportive. And, just like oral sex, I reciprocate.”
She gave a little snort. It shouldn’t be sexy.
“Try me,” he said.
“I don’t think so.”
That stung. “You think you can do better?” he asked. She was smart, beautiful, caring—yeah, she could do better.
She made an angry slash with her hands. “I don’t need this,” she said.
“I know exactly how much you need it,” he said. Pride ripped the ugly words from his mouth.
She flinched as though he’d hit her. “I’m leaving,” she said with icy dignity.
“Don’t.” He reached for her hands, but she pulled away. He put his hand out again. “Take my hand,” he said.
She turned her head away.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.” He forced levity into his voice. “You’re going to leave me hanging in front of everyone? My mom will cry. She’s already picking out china patterns.”
“Isn’t it easier to let her down now?” she asked, giving a pointed looked at his still outstretched hand.
He left his hand out there. He’d let it hang all day if he had to.
She didn’t hold out long. “Fine,” she huffed. She put her hand in his.
He smiled. She could have just walked away from him, but she didn’t. “Let’s go.” He gave a little tug and she fell in step with him. He led her through the crowd, past the screaming kids, and into the house.
“Where are you taking me?”
“My bedroom.”
She put the brakes on in the middle of the kitchen, planting her feet on the fading linoleum. “I don’t think so.”
“I need to make a phone call.”
