Tough Love
Page 23Bemused, she asked, “Where are we going?”
“I need to talk to my mom. And then to my sister.” And maybe to fucking Phil. “But I want you with me.”
“Aww.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “That’s sweet.”
Stack popped his neck again. “It’s not sweet, and it doesn’t mean anything.” Even though he’d never before willingly introduced a woman to his family.
And if it wasn’t for Phil...yeah, he’d probably still feel compelled to keep her close. He’d blame that on blue balls. She might have gotten hers, twice as she’d pointed out, but his was still very much on the “to do” list.
“Right. It means nothing.” She came along, her attitude buoyant, happy. “I won’t make anything of it. I mean, if I hadn’t forced my way along in the first place, I wouldn’t even be here now, able to accompany you—”
He stopped dead in his tracks.
Tilting her head, Vanity asked, “Stack?”
How could she be happy after the day they’d had? After performing as Yvette’s maid of honor, partying for hours, then dealing with a wreck...and stalled sex. She had to be functioning on lost reserves.
But she didn’t show it.
Forcing the words out, Stack explained, “It’s just that I don’t want you out there with Phil.” He started walking again.
“Got it.” They’d almost reached his mother before she added, “But you should know he’s harmless, at least to me.”
“Harmless, huh?” Not a description he’d apply to the scumbag user his sister adored.
“Next to you,” Vanity said, “he’s almost invisible. And how can an invisible man be a problem?”
This time his feet kept moving, but damned if everything else didn’t stop. His heart. His thoughts.
Even his tempered anger receded.
Pausing outside the curtained-off room, Stack struggled to sort his thoughts.
Tucking closer to him, Vanity whispered, “She’s really okay?”
Just as low, he replied, “Sick, injured, but she has a backbone of steel.”
Despite the coming arguments, Stack had to grin. “Brace yourself,” he told Vanity, and then he swept aside the curtain.
* * *
WITH THE EXCEPTION of f’ing Phil, Vanity really liked Stack’s family. Both his mom and his sister were unique, and she appreciated that. Unique was good. It beat run-of-the-mill any day.
She socialized easily with just about everyone. But she’d always gravitated to people who stood out, who didn’t just follow the pack. The ladies in Stack’s life were as far from the pack as they could get.
Tabitha was indeed a drama queen, but in a very likable way. She overly emoted about everything. Her mother’s illness and fall, the weather, her brother...
And Vanity.
She didn’t just say, “Nice to meet you.” No, she took the simple greeting to new heights, saying to her mother, “Isn’t she gorgeous? And look at that hair! Ohmigod, her hair. Vanity, your hair! Ugh, it’s amazing. And if you weren’t so damned nice, I’d hate you for that body. Mom, can’t you just hate her for that? I mean, look at her. Vanity, look at you.”
Feeling a little self-conscious, Vanity had laughed and given the requisite, “Thank you.”
Stack wore the smallest, most indulgent smile, and amusement had brightened his eyes.
“No.” Stack had stiffened, his mood switching from humor to defensive alarm. “I didn’t bring her to you, Mom. She’s not a gift.”
Tabitha had elbowed him. “Because you damn sure plan to take her with you when you leave, huh?”
“You have the sharpest damned elbow!”
“Maybe I should compete, like you do.”
“You’d defeat more guys with your big mouth than—”
And Lynn had ordered, “Both of you, desist. Tabby, keep your elbows to yourself. Stack, stop insulting your sister. Chairs. Sit. Quiet.”
And they had.
That had left Vanity standing—until Stack had snagged her waist and drew her onto his lap.