Personal Relations. HEATHER MACALLISTER

      “Jeff,” she cooed and draped herself over him. “I’ve missed you sooo much.”

      “I’ve missed you,” Jeff said, after he adjusted to Courtney’s deadweight and put his arms around her waist.

      “I’ve missed you more.”

      “I’ve missed you more.”

      “Missed you more times infinity.” Courtney nuzzled against him, her lips inches from his.

      Jeff moved even closer. “Missed you more times infinity plus one.”

      “I missed you—”

      “Oh, for God’s sake!” Brooke took her bowl of cereal over to the sink and dumped the contents down the disposal. When she glanced over her shoulder she saw that Courtney and Jeff were alternately kissing and murmuring at each other.

      Teenagers and their overactive hormones. Why wasn’t there a pill for that sort of thing? Surely some doctor somewhere was working on one. Brooke should contribute.

      She turned on the disposal, counting on the noise to break the mood.

      “Let me put on my lip gloss—it’ll just take a sec.” Courtney dug the little pot out of her backpack and stepped into the half bathroom off the kitchen.

      Good. If she took the time to put on lip gloss, it meant she wasn’t planning on a makeout session on the way to school.

      “Did Courtney tell you the news?” Jeff stood in the still-open doorway, grinning a little wolfishly in Brooke’s opinion. Grinning like a male who’d gotten free milk.

      “Yes.” Brooke cleared away the rest of the dishes knowing that Courtney would race out of the house without even thinking about it. Another sign of immaturity.

      “I was kinda hoping for a congratulations or something.”

      “Forget it. She’s mad. I told you she would be.” Courtney dropped the lip gloss into the backpack and slung it over her shoulder.

      “How did your parents take the news?” Brooke asked Jeff.

      “I haven’t told them yet,” Jeff cheerfully admitted.

      Brooke gave Courtney a look. “Before you start griping at me, see what his parents have to say.”

      “My parents aren’t together anymore. I live with my stepbrother—well, technically my ex-stepbrother. But he’s all for us getting married.”

      So you’ll be out from underfoot. Ex-stepbrother. The poor kid. Outrage mingled with Brooke’s frustration. “How old is your stepbrother?”

      “Oh, he’s old. Thirty or thirty-one. He doesn’t like having a party on his birthdays, so it’s hard to keep track of them.”

      Thirtyish? Brooke gritted her teeth. The man should be ashamed of himself. Brooke had visualized someone a couple of years older than Jeff, since any rational adult would have tried to talk him out of marriage.

      Therefore, Jeff’s stepbrother, or whatever his relationship was, was not a rational adult.

      Actually, that wasn’t so bad. Brooke could be rational enough for everyone. “Did…did your stepbrother—”

      “His name is Chase.”

      Brooke acknowledged the information with a tight smile. “Did Chase say when he thought it was all right for you two to get married?”

      “We didn’t discuss dates, or anything,” Jeff admitted as Courtney nudged him in the ribs.

      “He probably didn’t realize you wanted to do it before you finished high school. When you stop and think about it, you’ll be missing a lot of fun.”

      “Why would we have to miss anything?” Courtney asked.

      “Because…because you’ll be too busy for anything but school and work. How do you think you’re going to afford an apartment?”

      Their arms encircled each other. “We won’t have to work,” Jeff told her. “Chase said we could live with him. Isn’t that cool?”

      “Cool” wasn’t the word Brooke would have chosen. Idiotic. Irresponsible. Moronic. Those were much better words. They had the added benefit of applying both to the situation and to Jeff’s brother.

      Brooke was so angry that she found it hard to breathe. She was going to handle this herself. She was not going to bother her parents with it. But she was most definitely going to bother Chase Davenport.

      2

      “MAN, DID YOU see her face?”

      “Oh, yeah. I think just a little more and we’ll have them.”

      BY THE TIME she got to work, Brooke was a seething cauldron of rage. What Courtney had actually said was a “seething cauldron of repressed rage” but Brooke didn’t think her rage was going to be repressed much longer.

      The only reason she didn’t go directly to Chase Davenport’s office after Jeff had helpfully supplied his business card, was that she had three scheduled interviews this morning.

      Brooke was a personnel assistant for Haldutton oil. She’d gradually, but doggedly, worked her way up the corporate ladder and now administered screening interviews for clerical job candidates. When she got her degree in a year, she’d be in a strong position for promotion.

      Brooke had spent seven years in night school working toward a business degree. She’d desperately wanted to finish before Courtney went off to school, but getting this far was the best she could do. She wanted to set an example for Courtney, to show her how much she valued education. To let Courtney see how hard it was to work and go to school at the same time.

      Courtney wasn’t going to have to do that. After all, it was Brooke’s own fault that she’d had to get her degree the slow way. Courtney shouldn’t have to suffer for Brooke’s poor judgment.

      And now…and now after all the long nights and the hours and hours of study, the sacrifices…Did Courtney think she actually enjoyed being a drudge? If Brooke were feeling really sorry for herself she’d dwell on all the valentineless Valentine’s Days she’d had in the past few years.

      No, she hadn’t had time for a relationship. She’d tried dating a couple of guys, but frankly, they hadn’t been worth missing sleep over.

      There’d be time next fall, she thought. Next fall when Courtney went off to one of the colleges where Brooke had sent applications. The same ones she’d applied to, but had had to turn down the acceptances.

      Damn it, Courtney was not going to get married and throw away her future.

      SO YOU THINK you can do a better job of raising him than I did you? Chase’s father’s words whispered through his mind.

      Yes, he had thought he could do a better job with Jeff. The boy needed a stable environment. All children needed security, not a father who traveled most of the time and when he did come home, would announce that it was time to move again.

      Once, Chase and his mother had lived in a hotel room for a month while they waited for their new house to be ready. Two days before they were to move in, his father had laughingly told them they were moving on and wasn’t it lucky that they hadn’t unpacked yet?

      Jeff’s mother had been just as bad. So, when Jeff had asked to stay with Chase during high school, Chase had readily agreed.

      And now this.

      Man, wouldn’t his father get a laugh out of it when he heard.

      No, Jeff wasn’t getting married, at least not any time soon.

      Chase reached for his cell phone and looked at the number Jeff had programed in. He supposed nobody was home now, but tonight, he was going to find out how much it would take to buy