“That’s okay. Kids asleep?”

He grimaced. “Well, they’re in bed. I didn’t exactly wait to make sure they were asleep. I had to get out.”

“What’s up?”

“Fuck.” He rubbed his face with both hands. “I love your sister, dude. I fucking love her to death, but she’s killing me with this nesting shit. She cannot get the house clean enough. I have scrubbed every toilet twelve times this week. The tub. The shower. The kitchen floor. The sinks. The counters. There is not one surface in that house that could possibly have a single germ on it.”

I laughed and waved the bartender over, and Chris ordered an amber ale.

“It’s unbearable,” he went on. “Tonight she wanted me to steam clean the carpets and couch—again.”

“How’d you get out of it?”

He looked guilty. “I told her I had to help you move an appliance.”

“She’s gonna know you were drinking. She’ll smell it.”

“I know. She can smell what the neighbors five doors down cook for dinner. Her nose is fucking bionic when she’s pregnant.” He grabbed the glass the bartender set down in front of him and gulped it. “But you were nice enough to offer me a beer after I helped you. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.”

I shrugged. “I’m that kind of guy.”

We ordered burgers and fries and caught up a little, since it had been a few weeks since we’d seen each other. “Asher is doing really great at work,” he told me. “My mother loves him. If he wants more hours, let us know.”

“I will, thanks.” I felt proud of my brother, and thankful to have Chris as a friend. “He does get tired easily, but he loves the job. I’ll ask him.”

“Good. So I hear Meg Sawyer’s in town.”

I rolled my eyes. “My sister has a big mouth.”

He laughed. “Have you seen her?”

“Uh, yeah. I saw her last night.” I took a long drink, debating how much I should tell him.

“And?”

“And what?

“Don’t be a dick. Did you guys finally bang?”

“Jesus, Chris. I’ve told you a million times. It’s not about that with her.” I took another drink. “But yeah, we did.”

Chris swallowed too fast and nearly choked. He set his glass down. “Fucking hell, I was kidding. Are you serious? You did?”

“Yeah.” I gave him a warning look from the side of my eyes. “But that is not public knowledge. And by public, I mean my sister. She’ll go right to my mother. And my mother will probably go right to the priest.”

He held up both hands. “I won’t tell. Scout’s honor. But holy shit, I can’t believe it.”

“Me neither.” I stared into my beer, the caramel color of which was the exact shade of the streaks in Meg’s hair. “But it’s been a long time coming.”

“No shit.” Chris picked up his glass again. “So how was it?”

I shook my head and drank again. There weren’t words.

“That good, huh?”

“Better.”

Our food arrived, and we dumped ketchup on our plates and dug in. “So is it casual?” he wondered after a few minutes.

“Completely.”

“She still lives in DC, right?”

“Yep. She’s only here for the week. I’m taking her to her sister’s wedding on Saturday.”

Chris laughed. “Uh oh. The wedding date. Better be careful.”

“What do you mean? We’re just going as friends. It’s not even really a date.” I picked up my beer and finished it. “Why would I have to be careful?”

“Maybe you don’t. I’m just saying that single women get all weird at weddings. They start thinking about their own futures, and how they’re not getting any younger, and feeling like it’s time to settle down. It’s like a subliminal message transmitted by the sight of a white dress or something. They get all . . . rabid to be a bride and start hinting around.”

“Meg will not get rabid,” I scoffed. “We’re just having some fun together. She knows how I feel about relationships, and she’s not interested in one either. She lives halfway across the country, for fuck’s sake.”

“Okay, okay. Don’t get mad, dude. Have your fun. It’s about time you got laid.”

I shook my head, laughing a little. “Asshole.”

Around nine, Chris got a text from Nina asking when he’d be home, and I told him to go ahead and take off, I’d settle up with the bartender.

“Thanks,” he said, pulling his keys from his pocket. “I’ll get you next time.”

“Sounds good.” I was just signing the check when I got the call from Meg.

“Hey,” I said. “You ready?”

She groaned. “This dinner is taking forever. We haven’t even had our main course yet. I snuck out to the lobby to call you.”

“Oh.” Disappointed that I might not see her, I headed out the door into the dark. “That’s okay. We can do it another time.”

“But I really want to see you tonight. I’m just worried it will be too late when I get out of here. You have to work tomorrow, and you must be tired today.”

“I don’t care how fucking late it is, Sawyer. If you want to see me, I’ll come get you.”

“I do.”

“So call me when you’re done, and I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” I lowered my voice as I walked to my car. “I’ve got plans for you.”

She gasped. “What kind of plans?”

“I’m not going to tell you. That would take all the fun out of it.” Actually there wasn’t really anything that would take the fun out of what I was going to do to her. But the element of surprise would add a little extra something.

“Oh, you’re so mean.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “But I can’t wait. I’ll call you as soon as I can.”

We hung up, and I drove home humming a song that had been playing in the bar. When I got there, I let Renzo out, gave him some attention, and then put him into the spare bedroom. He let me know in no uncertain terms that he was not pleased.

“Sorry, buddy. But I need a little more room to myself tonight. And since things might get kinda rough and I don’t want you to get spooked, you’ve gotta stay in there.” I scratched behind his ears. “I’ll make it up to you tomorrow, okay? Extra play time at the park after work.”

Once Renzo was taken care of, I took a quick shower, threw on some jeans and a T-shirt, and went downstairs to make sure everything was in place. Surprisingly, I wasn’t even that tired anymore. Thinking about the night ahead had adrenaline running through my veins, and my imagination was working overtime thinking up things I wanted to do to her, say to her.

The other night she’d told me she wanted sex that was a little unpredictable, sex that made her feel like she might not be okay. I had years’ worth of fantasies saved up—all kinds of things I never in a million years thought I’d get the chance to act out, with Meg or anyone else. Her words were like an invitation. And we had the necessary kind of trust between us.