“You miss it.”
“Yes. More than I’d imagined.” But he was looking at her, seeing only her. “I’d like to show it to you.”
“I’d like that, too. Maybe we can talk Cal and Libby into flying out. You could have a real family reunion.” She saw his expression change and instinctively laid a hand over his. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No.”
“You’re angry with him,” Sunny murmured.
“It’s personal.”
But she wasn’t going to be put off. He wasn’t the snarling idiot she had first assumed him to be. He was just confused. If there was one trait she shared equally with her sister, it was the inability to turn away a stray.
“J.T., you must see how unfair it is to resent Cal for falling in love and getting married, for starting a life here.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Of course it is.” This time, she promised herself, she would not lose her temper. “They’re both adults, and they’re certainly able to make up their own minds. Besides, well, they’re wonderful together.” He sent her a silent, cynical look that infuriated her. “They are. I’ve seen them with each other. You haven’t.”
“No.” He nodded. “I haven’t.”
“That’s nobody’s fault but—” She caught herself, ground her teeth and went on, more calmly. “What I’m trying to say is that I might not have known Cal before he became part of the family, but I know when someone’s happy. And he is. As for Libby—he does something for her no one else ever has. She’s always been so shy, so easily pushed into the background. But with Cal she just glows. Maybe it’s not the easiest thing to accept that someone else is the best thing that ever happened to a person you love—but you have to accept it when it’s true.”
“I don’t have anything against your sister.” Or, if he did, he intended to keep it to himself for the time being. “But I intend to talk to Cal about the change he’s made in his life.”
“You really are bullheaded.”
He considered the description and decided it was apt enough. “Yes.” He smiled at her, delighted by the sulky mouth, the lifted chin. “I’d say we both are.”
“At least I don’t go around poking my nose into other people’s affairs.”
“Not even pleasantly plump women who want to torture themselves into... what was it—a Merry Widow?”
“That was entirely different.” With a sniff, she pushed her plate away. “I may be cynical, but even I believe in love.”
“I never said I didn’t.”
“Oh, really?” Her lips curved, because she was sure she had backed him into a corner. “Then you won’t interfere if you see that Cal and Libby are in love.”
“If they are, I hardly could, could I? And if they’re not—” he gestured, palm up, “—then we’ll see.”
She steepled her fingers, measured him. “I could always send you back into the forest, let you freeze in your sleeping bag.”
“But you won’t.” He toasted her with his coffee cup. “Because, underneath the prickly hide, you’re basically kindhearted.”
“I could change.”
“No, you couldn’t. People don’t, as a rule.”
Abruptly intense, he leaned forward to take her hand. It was a gesture he didn’t make often, and one that he couldn’t resist at that moment. “Sunny, I don’t want to hurt your sister. Or you.”
“But you will. If we’re in your way.”
“Yes.” He turned her hand over thoughtfully. It was narrow, and surprisingly soft and delicate for one that packed such a punch. “You have strong family feelings. So do I. My parents... they’ve tried to understand Cal’s decision, but it’s difficult for them. Very difficult.”
“But they’ve only to see him for themselves to understand.”
“I can’t explain.” He shifted his eyes from their joined hands to hers. “I wish I could. More than I can tell you.”