Out Of Control. Shannon McKenna

along with his bullshit. “I ran into her in the parking lot the other day. She’d locked her keys into her car. She was crying.”

      Davy was taken aback at the thought of Margot crying. “Her? Over car keys?”

      “I thought it was weird, too. She looks like the type that would kick the tires and yell at the car. Anyhow, I galloped to the rescue with my Slim Jim, but when I got the car open, she just gave me this blank look, not responding to my devastating charm. I asked her what was wrong, and she said, ‘Oh, nothing,’ you know the way women do when they’re about to go sit in the dark and eat a half gallon of ice cream?”

      “Actually, Sean, I’ve don’t know that I’ve ever inspired a woman to eat a half-gallon of ice cream,” Davy said, with rigid patience.

      Sean rolled his eyes. “Little do you know. You just don’t pay attention. Anyhow, I coaxed it out of her. The burglary, the dead dog, yuck. It sounded creepy, so I told her to talk to you. I know you’re phasing out the P.I. stuff, but she’s scared. Broke, too, but you’re not hurting for money, and it’ll keep you from getting bored and stealing hubcaps on the street until we get our business launched. You could hold off on billing her. Or better yet, do it pro bono. That would be righteous and studly of you. Women dig that.”

      Davy regarded his brother with slitted eyes. “Are you trying to fix me up? Don’t.”

      Sean looked disgusted. “Self-absorbed prick. You think this is all about you. I was just trying to make Margot stop crying. She’s afraid this sick fuck is going to hurt her little dog.”

      “Great,” Davy said sourly. “Heart-wrenching.”

      “Yeah, actually. It is.” Sean scowled at him as he took another swig of beer. “And what if I was trying to fix you up? What’s the crime? You’re not making discernible progress on your own. You haven’t shown signs of life since the Ice Princess gave you the boot. The chick with the blonde bun who never let her hair down, what was her name?”

      Davy winced. “Beth. She wanted a ring.”

      Sean pantomimed wiping sweat from his brow. “Thank God you bailed. I always felt like I had my foot shoved into my mouth when that woman was around. Oh, and speaking of girlfriends, I talked to Connor. He said it’s in your best interests to bring a date to the wedding, because Erin’s got a flock of man-eating bridesmaids, and Erin’s mama likes to matchmake. If you go alone they’ll be unleashed upon you. A tornado of jewel-toned taffeta. Watch out. They see you in a tux, man? You’re dead meat.”

      Davy hissed in dismay. He’d deliberately avoided thinking about his brother Connor’s impending wedding, but it was bearing down on him now like a runaway train. “Fuck me. You bringing someone?”

      Sean’s grin was gleeful and wicked. “Hell, no. Bring ’em on, six, eight, ten at a time. My idea of paradise. Marooned on the lost planet of horny bridesmaids. Yum.”

      “Cindy’s gonna be a bridesmaid, too,” Miles volunteered. “She’s wearing red. She’s awesome in red. That’s why I’m crashing at Sean’s condo tonight, because Cindy has an appointment with the dressmaker for a final fitting tomorrow at eight in the morning. And I’m driving her.”

      Davy and Sean exchanged pained glances. Miles’s hopeless devotion to their future sister-in-law’s younger sister Cindy made them both nervous, but all they could do was to build up the kid’s muscles, reflexes and self-esteem, and hope to God that his brain would eventually trail along behind.

      Davy sipped his whiskey and let it burn down his throat. “Bridesmaids are bad news,” he reflected. “Beth was a bridesmaid at her cousin’s wedding. It was right after that she got all intense about commitment. Women start tossing back the champagne and thinking about the big M, and whammo, you’re in a world of hurt.”

      “You should think about the big M yourself,” Sean said. “You have to do your duty by the family DNA. You’re not getting any younger.”

      Davy closed his eyes. “Connor’s got it covered. They’re probably procreating already, the way those two go at it.”

      The silence that followed suggested that Sean had the same quiet ambivalence about their brother’s wedding that he had. Not that they weren’t happy for Connor. He was so far gone in love with his bride-to-be, he was practically incapable of coherent speech.

      Which was fine. Great. Extreme, out of control happiness was exactly what they wanted for their brother. But the thought of the wedding left him with a dull pang of loss. Connor was moving into a new phase of life. Leaving his brothers behind. It made him feel vaguely restless and empty, when he thought about it, so he tried hard not to.

      Stupid, yes, and selfish. They loved Erin. She was perfect for Connor. Smart, brave, pretty, sweet. She’d shown her quality in that crazy thing that went down with Novak a few months ago. She’d earned her membership to the McCloud clan a thousand times over.

      No, Erin wasn’t the problem. It was just going to be…different.

      Sean blew out a sharp sigh, like he was shoving away unwelcome feelings, too. “I just had a brilliant idea. Bring Margot. She’ll create a force field to protect you. And she’ll add to the scenery, big-time.”

      “Forget it,” he growled. “Not happening. Lost cause.”

      “How come?” Sean demanded.

      Davy gritted his teeth. “Drop it, OK?”

      Sean’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, Christ. Don’t tell me, let me guess. You flubbed it, didn’t you? I dropped a golden opportunity in your lap, and you blew it. You chump. No wonder you never get laid.”

      Davy stared at the lights that gleamed on the dark, rippling surface of the lake, declining to rise to the bait. He had nothing to say for himself. He hadn’t shared the results of Margot’s background check with his brother. Her mysterious secrets were none of Sean’s business.

      Of course, by that token, they were none of Davy’s business, either. He brushed that unhelpful thought aside. “Don’t you have someplace to go tonight?” he asked. “Some girl or other?”

      “Miles and I might grab an action flick at the viddy store,” Sean said. “I’m experiencing a brief, restful lull from my usual erotic activities. Keeping myself pure until the wedding.”

      “It’s only two more days,” was Davy’s dour observation.

      “A fucking eternity,” Sean said. “I want to be charged up for the bridesmaids. Mow me down, ladies. Use me up. Wring me dry.”

      “I don’t know about the viddy,” Miles said doubtfully. “I’ve got to get up really early. I have to—”

      “Be Cindy Riggs’s personal slave, gofer, tutor, chauffeur, yeah. We know,” Davy cut in.

      Miles rocked back in his chair, his eyes wide and startled behind his round glasses. “No way! We’re just good friends. She didn’t have a ride to her fitting, so I told her—”

      “I’ve seen how good a friend she is.” Davy mimicked Cindy’s light, breathy voice. “‘Miles, do you like my new push-up bra? Miles, would you help me with my zipper? Miles, would you do my calculus homework? Miles, who should I go out with, Rob, Rick or Randy?’ ”

      Miles’s mouth set into a hard, angry line. “It’s not like that.”

      Sean cleared his throat in the silence that followed. “Uh…maybe Miles and I should hit the road. You sound like you need a serious time out. We’ll take the Chinese with us, if you don’t want it.”

      “Yeah.” Miles sprang to his feet. “Let’s go. Like, right now.”

      Davy lifted his glass in silent apology as Sean and Miles left. Waves lapped rhythmically at the pebble beach below the porch in the silence they left in their wake. Usually it was a restful, meditative sound. Tonight, it struck him as soggy, depressing. Repetitive.

      He