The Devaney Brothers: Michael and Patrick. Sherryl Woods

wasn’t a fling,” he said defensively. “And you know her name. It’s Debra.”

      “Short for dim-witted,” Kelly muttered. “You know, for an intelligent man who has a degree in psychology, you have exceptionally lousy taste in women.”

      “Thank you for sharing your opinion,” her brother retorted. “Next time you feel so inclined, bite your tongue.”

      She grinned at him. “Advice you should consider following when it comes to Friday night.”

      Bryan sighed heavily, picked up his jacket and headed out without saying another word.

      Now it was Kelly’s turn to sigh. She should have kept her mouth shut about Friday, because if she knew her brother at all—and she did—he was on his way straight to Michael’s, probably to warn him to behave or get his teeth knocked down his throat.

      Kelly considered calling Michael to warn him, but why bother? Bryan was a great guy, but he definitely leaned more toward intellectual pursuits than physical prowess. Michael could probably use a good laugh. He might be in a wheelchair, but she had a feeling he could still take her brother in a fight. Maybe it would do both of them good for Michael to remember that.

      * * *

      Michael was watching the Celtics game on TV and cursing the fact that there wasn’t a beer in the place, when the doorbell rang. Since he’d all but banished his brothers from stopping by uninvited, he figured he shouldn’t just tell his visitor that the door was unlocked. He wheeled across the room and found Bryan on his doorstep, a scowl firmly in place and a six-pack in his hand.

      “Talk about your mixed messages,” Michael said, moving aside to let his friend in.

      Bryan stared at him blankly. “What?”

      “Hey, you’re the psychologist,” Michael reminded him. “Shouldn’t you understand that arriving with a frown on your face and a peace offering in your hand could be a bit confusing?”

      “Was I frowning? Sorry,” Bryan said, though the apology sounded halfhearted.

      Michael studied him curiously. The Bryan he’d once known had always been upbeat, always able to put a positive spin on things. He could spot the silver linings on the cloudiest days. It was a trait that probably contributed to his skill as a psychologist. Clearly, something had to be weighing mighty heavily on him to put this scowl on his face.

      “Something on your mind?” Michael probed cautiously.

      “You could say that.”

      “Why don’t you pour a couple of those beers and tell me all about it?” Michael suggested. Listening to somebody else’s problems for a change would be good for him, he decided. It might make him forget his own.

      While Bryan headed for the kitchen, Michael went back in the living room and muted the sound on the TV. He didn’t have to listen to the game, but he wasn’t going to skip it. Basketball was the one thing he’d missed when he was off in various godforsaken locations. Of course, he’d also missed playing it, but for now he’d have to settle for the vicarious thrills of watching a good game on TV.

      Bryan returned, handed Michael his beer, then sank down on the sofa, still looking worried.

      “Woman problems?” Michael asked.

      “Not the way you mean. It’s Kelly.”

      Now it was Michael’s turn to frown. “Has something happened to your sister? She was here this afternoon, and she seemed perfectly fine.”

      “Yeah, well, since then, she’s apparently lost her mind.”

      Michael stared at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

      “This whole cockamamy scheme that the two of you should spend time together,” Bryan explained. “Whose idea was it?”

      “Hers,” Michael said at once, still not seeing why Bryan was making such a big deal out of it. “What’s wrong? It’s not as if we’re dating—though, frankly, it would be none of your business if we were.”

      Bryan snorted. “Yeah, that’s what she said, too.”

      “Well, then, what’s the problem?”

      “I don’t like it, that’s the problem,” Bryan said, regarding him defiantly. “Therapy’s one thing. This—whatever this is—is something else entirely. Kelly’s no match for you. She’s been in Boston her whole life. She’s dated some, but the men were nothing like you.”

      “Which makes her what? Naive? Stupid?”

      Bryan’s scowl deepened. “Of course not.”

      “Glad to know you’re smart enough to see that. But if Kelly’s not the problem, then I must be,” Michael concluded. “Do you figure I’m some sort of macho, sex-starved male who can’t keep his hormones in check?”

      His friend flushed a dull red. “No, but you are experienced.”

      Michael couldn’t deny that. “Maybe so, but I would never take advantage of your sister,” he said flatly. “After all the time we spent together, you ought to know me better than that.”

      “I suppose, but it’s been a lot of years since you and I hung out, Michael. You could have changed,” Bryan said defensively.

      “I haven’t,” Michael said, meeting his gaze evenly.

      Bryan nodded slowly. “I’ll take your word, then, that you won’t take advantage of her.”

      “Thank you.” He slanted a look at Bryan. “So, does she have any idea you’re over here warning me off?”

      “Probably,” Bryan said.

      Michael regarded him with amusement. “And you got out of the house in one piece? Amazing. You must be quicker than I remembered.”

      “Very funny.”

      “Look, I admire the fact that you care about what happens to your sister, but I swear to you that I’m not a threat. I’ll say it one more time—this whole pub visit is strictly professional. She thinks it will help the therapy if I can put my trust in her.”

      Bryan rolled his eyes. “And you bought that hogwash?”

      Something in his reaction sent a little chill of apprehension down Michael’s back. He regarded Bryan with a narrowed gaze. “You think she has another agenda?”

      “She might not even be aware of it herself, but, yes, I think she has another agenda.” He leveled a warning look at Michael. “And so help me, if you take her up on it and break her heart, I’ll make you regret it.”

      “Whoa!” Michael protested, reeling from the possibility that Bryan viewed his own sister as the one who couldn’t be entirely trusted to exercise good judgment. “It’s a long way from spending one evening in a pub with family to breaking your sister’s heart. Trust me, that is not a road I intend to go down.”

      “As long as you’re clear on the consequences,” Bryan said flatly.

      “Very clear. Are you clear on the fact that I’m not the least bit interested in getting involved with anyone these days? Fixing my own life is pretty much an all-consuming task.”

      “Okay, then,” Bryan said, clearly relieved. “Now turn the sound up on the game, while I get us another beer.”

      Michael stared after him as he left the room. Bryan’s little wake-up call hadn’t exactly scared him. He could handle an irate Bryan. But the memory of the way he’d felt when Kelly had her hands all over him gave him pause. He was suddenly far less confident about whether he could handle Kelly, if she really did have something other than therapy on her mind.

      * * *

      Michael was still feeling a little leery about Kelly’s intentions when they got to Ryan’s Place on Friday night. Fortunately,