Just Kiss Me. Kathleen O'Reilly

      But Joe liked his women with fire in their blood and sin in their eyes. He smiled, fondly reminiscing about his last date. Sometimes it was hard to believe he and Avery shared the same genes. Maybe they didn’t. It would explain a lot. Why Joe hadn’t got into St. Alban’s preparatory school, when Avery had. Why Avery wanted to make people well, and Joe just wanted to be around planes.

      The wine steward came to the table and wisely, Joe and Amanda let Avery make the selection. Amanda shot Joe another meaningful look. “Please,” she mouthed again. Then she lifted her palms, a suffering angel. Right.

      Avery placed the order, and then turned back to Joe. “What were you saying?”

      “I was telling Amanda that, no, I’m not going to do anything with her cocktail napkin. Thanks very much for offering.” He passed the white paper back to her, wondering why she had even agreed to go out to dinner with Avery in the first place and even more mysteriously, why she had wanted Joe to come along.

      Amanda smiled politely, took the napkin in her perfectly manicured hands and sat her water glass down top of it. Amanda never gave anything away. She was the perfect complement for his brother, the liberal sophisticate.

      Everything except that mouth.

      In a face composed of high cheekbones and unblinking eyes, her mouth was wild and wicked. Full, red lips that curled up slightly at the corners, as if she had a secret and you knew that no matter how you tried, you’d never discover it.

      Joe knew Amanda had secrets, that there was a hidden piece of her that she never showed, and he didn’t know whether it was the poised exterior or the promise of that mouth that inspired his brother.

      But that was none of his business.

      Finally, she raised one eyebrow, a challenge. Then she turned to Avery, and brushed her hair back on her shoulders. Very smooth. Of course, Amanda was a lawyer, and she knew all the moves. “It’s not going to work,” she said.

      Huh?

      Amanda picked up her glass of wine and watched Joe, her mouth curving ever so slightly. He shifted, not liking that provocative smile blasting in his direction. She turned to Avery. “It’s time I was honest with you.”

      About time. And that sounded like his cue to leave. Joe stood. “Excuse me. I’m sure you two need a little privacy. I’ll just take a train home.”

      “No!” All traces of steel vanished from her voice, her blue eyes soft and pleading. Avery heaved a theatrical sigh.

      Surely she didn’t expect Joe to stick around while she had The Talk with his brother? Not that Joe thought it would do a bit of good. Avery would never give up. He could bulldoze the entire third world if he put his mind to it, and Joe gave Amanda high marks for managing to escape un-dozed. So far.

      “I think we need to tell your brother this together.”

      We? There it was again. The whispered tone, that intimate look. Like lovers. A guy could get really used to that look.

      And then it all clicked. Joe. Amanda. Lovers.

      Holy Cow.

      “Uh, no, I don’t think so,” he answered, every cell in his body flashing red-alert. There were some cells that were flashing more enthusiastically than others, and Joe shifted uncomfortably. He tried for a paternally disapproving voice. “You should have talked to me before you decided to bring this up.”

      And still she stared at him, and he almost forgot his good intentions. He almost forgot Avery. Which was a hard thing to do.

      Thankfully, the wine steward came, and placed the bottle of wine on the table, waiting for Avery’s approval. Then the ritual began. Avery sniffed, whirled, sipped and finally nodded. The steward poured everyone a glass and then departed in silence.

      “What did you want to tell me, Amanda?” Avery asked.

      Amanda shot Joe one last pleading look. He almost caved. He’d pretty well figured it out. Joe and Amanda, pretend lovers. Absolutely without question, the most harebrained scheme she’d ever had to get rid of Avery. Of course, Amanda didn’t do harebrained well, and Avery wasn’t very cooperative as a dumpee.

      “Avery, I’m in love with Joe.”

      Her harebrained skills were improving by the minute.

      It was a valiant struggle not to spew cabernet all over the pristine, white tablecloth, but he managed. He’d thought she was proposing an affair, but no, this was Amanda. Of course the lawyer would want it all. She’d say she was in love. With Joe.

      Was she nuts?

      He took another hasty swallow of wine. He had really underestimated her this time. Who knew that beneath that cool exterior lurked Lucille Ball? No foul though, because, of course, Avery would never believe it.

      Feeling rather confident of his prediction, Joe turned to Avery. Three. Two. One.

      “Joe?” Avery spluttered, predictable as always. “You can’t be serious! He’s an airline mechanic.”

      And so it goes. Joe sighed and began to butter his bread. “Thanks, Ave. Love you too, bro.”

      But Amanda wasn’t done yet and if Avery wasn’t blood-kin, Joe would have felt sorry for her. “I am serious, Avery. It’s something I’ve been fighting for a long time.” She turned to Joe, her wicked mouth trembling. “Something we’ve been fighting for a long time. I can’t let you ruin this for me, Avery. I won’t let you ruin my one chance at happiness.”

      Avery’s face was all screwed up and confused, not a pretty sight. “But why Joe?”

      Enjoying himself now, and feeling quite safe, Joe took a bite. He couldn’t wait to hear the answer to this one.

      She pushed at her perfectly coiffed hair as if a strand had fallen in her eyes, which of course, it hadn’t. “Because I’m tired of being restrained and constricted and having to iron my clothes.” She took a deep breath, the neckline of her white linen dress rising discreetly. “I want to stop worrying about what I say, and who I have to meet and whether my nails are done.”

      Oh, she was good. If not for the plea for help on her napkin, he might have believed her. He wasn’t going to back her up on this tale, though. Avery might be pompous and stubborn and a little bit weird, but he was his brother. And if Joe had been named Avery, he might have turned out just like him.

      “I don’t understand the connection between your nails and Joe.” Avery frowned and rubbed a finger against his brow.

      “There isn’t one. There doesn’t always have to be a reason or an explanation. Sometimes things just are. Joe doesn’t worry about having to be something, he’s just happy being.”

      Avery assumed his doctor face, which looked so much like their father’s. “Sounds damned irresponsible to me.”

      It sounded pretty irresponsible to Joe, too, but he was impressed that Amanda had enough depth to figure that part of him out.

      “It’s not irresponsible, it’s serenity,” she said.

      He almost laughed out loud at that. Serenity? Sounded more like New Age crap. He wondered if he should interrupt now and put an end to the whole nonsense. He wouldn’t have his brother hurt. Though it pricked at him that Avery acted more appalled than spurned. Just for that, Joe leaned back and folded his arms across his chest.

      He’d stop it in a minute.

      Avery smoothed out his napkin, then began folding it into precise triangles. “Serenity? You’re spouting that mystic mumbo jumbo, next you’ll be telling me you’ve decided to go off on some mission to find yourself. Amanda, you’re a beautiful woman. Be happy with who you are.”

      “Avery, you’re a wonderful man, and I do love you in a special way, but I will never love you like that.”

      “Well, of course you will. In