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big tree. Our white knightship is over.”
    â€œAh, man.” Russ sat up and scrubbed his hands over his face, then suddenly brightened. “Hey! Don’t wear a shirt today, just in case.”
    â€œIn case what?”
    â€œIn case the pretty redhead decides to get wet in a tank and panties again.” Russ grinned wickedly. “Ifyou don’t have a shirt to give her, then…” His eyebrows jerked up and down suggestively.
    Ryan hauled the covers off him. “Get up, you pervert.” He strode toward the kitchen. “And as for making fun of last night, she could have died up there in that loft.”
    â€œJeez, Ryan, I was just kidding.” Russ stood and stretched. “But you can’t blame a guy for dreaming about the way she looked all wet and—” When Ryan stopped and sent him an intensely black look, Russ closed his mouth. “I’m going to eat now.”
    â€œGood idea.” Ryan went into the kitchen, leaned against the counter and closed his eyes, because he needed to think about something other than the image Russ had just put back in his brain. The one of Suzanne, drenched, with her clothes—his shirt—molded to her every curve, of which she had damn plenty.
    â€œYou like her or something?” Russ asked, following him. “Because you seemed awfully into her last night.”
    His siblings put an enormous amount of energy into finding Ryan a woman. It didn’t take a genius to understand they wanted him happy. Which is why he pretended to date while actually going to college, just to keep them off his back. But as Suzanne seemed to have blindsided him with a genuine attraction hehadn’t felt in a very long time, he didn’t want to talk about it. Or her. “What I’m into,” he said, “is getting to work. Today.”
    â€œOkay, okay. You’re awfully touchy this morning.”
    Yeah, he was. And that he couldn’t seem to help it disturbed him more than he would ever have admitted.
    Â 
    T HE STORM HAD MOVED ON as fast as it had come, leaving the Southern California day beautiful and glistening. Ryan drove, listening to his brothers chatter about some party they were going to go to that night. South Village traffic was light at seven o’clock in the morning, although there were lots of pedestrians about. A woman jogging past in short shorts and a sports bra caused both Rafe and Russ to bump their faces against the window as they craned their respective necks trying to get a better view.
    â€œGrow up,” Ryan muttered, thinking he should have had another cup of coffee.
    â€œIf growing up means not looking at a chick like that, then no thank you.”
    â€œShut up, Rafe.” Russ gave Ryan a long worried look. “What’s the matter?”
    â€œWhat? Nothing.”
    â€œIt’s something for you to not look at a beautiful woman,” he insisted. “You always look. Hell, then you sleep with half of them.”
    That wasn’t exactly true. Not even partially true.
    Okay, maybe partially true. In his twenties he’d been somewhat of a—
    â€œSlut,” Rafe said proudly. “I want to be just like you.”
    If they only knew. Between keeping the business going so he could feed everyone, and going to school, he was too tired to be a “slut.” Half the time he was too tired to even think about sex. Sorry state for a thirty-two-year old. “Not everything revolves around sex.”
    â€œYes it does,” Russ said, and Rafe laughed.
    They pulled up to the jobsite. Surveying the damage of the fallen tree in the light of day, Ryan let out a slow whistle. Last night they’d simply gotten Suzanne out and put supports under the fallen tree to protect the building from further damage. Getting that baby off the building was going to be tricky. To get a better feel for what had to be done, he climbed a ladder alongside the trunk of the tree. Halfway up,