WELL, HELL. STACK SAT back in his seat, studied his sister’s anxious face, then Vanity’s expectant expression, and he shook his head. The irony of it almost made him laugh. “I really wish you hadn’t done that.”
Both women gawked at him.
Stack squeezed the bridge of his nose. He felt a headache coming on, and the day had barely begun. A day that, moments ago, had seemed so promising with sizzling sex on the breakfast menu.
“Stack.” Scowling, Vanity touched his arm. “You know you’re pleased that your sister has left Phil. It’s what you wanted. Tell her so.”
Un-freaking-believable. “Are you instructing me?”
She frowned at him, her gaze unflinching. “If I need to, yes.”
The bold way she tried to stare him down made his mouth quirk. Damn, but he loved her. It struck him that he’d probably loved her for a while now.
Likely even before she’d made the offer of uncommitted sex.
The coffeepot finished sputtering, so he got up and poured three mugs. He knew how both Vanity and his sister drank theirs, so while he prepped the drinks, he shared his thoughts.
“You’re serious, Tabby? You won’t change your mind?”
“I won’t.” She swallowed hard again. “You were right about him all along. I know I’ve been an idiot.”
Stack handed her the coffee with sugar and cream. Then he kissed her cheek. “I’m glad you’re done with him.”
“You are?”
“He was never good enough for you.”
The women shared a knowing look.
Stack handed the second mug to Vanity. “You knew this was coming?”
“I knew she was thinking about it.” She sipped her coffee, then murmured, “Perfect. Thank you.”
Standing over her, Stack crossed his arms. For the moment he let Tabby stew and concentrated on Vanity. “So, you and my sister were keeping secrets from me?”
“Tabby asked me to keep her secret, so I did. You don’t have to know everything, Stack Hannigan. Women are allowed to talk without updating you.”
“This was more than usual girl talk.”
Vanity jumped on that like a dog on a bone. “Girl talk? What, pray tell, is girl talk?” Shoving her seat back, she stood and squared off with him. “Is this more of your sexist nonsense where women only focus on nails and hair and—”
Stack kissed her to wind her down. It worked better than he expected, given she fisted a hand in his shirt and held on, making the kiss longer than he’d intended.
In fact, by the time she ended it, he’d forgotten what he wanted to say.
Vanity, however, went straight back to topic. “Sometimes,” she told him gently, “a woman wants to talk to another woman, not her overprotective, macho brother.”
“I’m not macho.”
They both snorted. He turned to Tabby, saying, “Stow it.”
Tears still clung to her lashes, but she smiled and pretended to zip her lips.
Vanity brought his face back around to her. “Tabby and I are friends. Friends talk.”
Jumping in, Tabby said, “She’s the best of friends.” Smoothing her hand down her sweater, she added, “She bought me this, and my coat and boots. And she paid for me to get my hair done and—”
“Tabby,” Vanity cut in, her face now flushed. “Weren’t we just saying that he doesn’t need a blow-by-blow report of how we’ve spent our time?”
Stack studied her. It didn’t surprise him that Tabby would take advantage. And he even understood Vanity’s need to help where she could. He didn’t like it, but he got it.
What bothered him was that she’d never, not once, mentioned it.
Narrowing his eyes, he asked, “Are you friends with my mother, too?”
Guilty, she pinched the air and admitted, “Little bit.”
Shit. “So you’re funding my whole family?”
She took exception to that. “Not funding them. I’ve bought a few gifts because I enjoy gift-giving. There’s no harm in that.”
“If there’s no harm, then why didn’t you tell me?”
Lifting to her toes, her nose almost touching his, she said succinctly and with a lot of sass, “It wasn’t your business.”
He leaned into her anger. “My family isn’t my business?”
“Your relationship with them is, of course. But not my relationship with them.” She dropped back to her heels and crossed her arms. “It’s independent of whatever happens with us.”