Damn it. Now he was hard and hot and it was even more difficult to focus on Sean.
“Sounds like a good plan to me,” Mike said. “I like that this Wells woman has a good work ethic. Eager to get started, get a jump on things. Hell, she could have half of it done by the time the snow melts.”
“Yeah?” Sean turned to look at him, exasperation clear on his face. “To get her started, I have to go the hell out there and work with her on the plans. Go through the hotel, see what’s what, just like you did in Laughlin.”
“Ah.” In spite of everything else that was crowding his mind, Mike had to smile. “That’s what this is about. You don’t want to go to Wyoming.”
“Of course I don’t,” Sean snapped. “There’s snow there. Lots of it. Have you looked outside here today?” He waved one hand at the window behind him. “Blue skies, puffy white clouds, sun. It’s almost eighty today. You know what it is in Wyoming? I do. I checked. It’s twenty-eight. That’s the high.”
Mike chuckled and at his brother’s glare, tried his best to muffle it and failed. “It’s not forever, Sean. You go out, do the work, come back. At the most, you’ll miss a few days of surfing. You’ll survive.”
“Thanks for the support,” his brother muttered. “I’d have to take one of the artists to look the place over for murals, too. Hey.” His face brightened. “Think Jenny’d be interested in a quick trip to snow country? Her sketches are great, she’d probably be a big help—”
“No.” Mike cut him off before he could get going. Damned if he was going to sit back and have Jenny fly off to Wyoming with Sean. They’d be alone on the plane, at the hotel... No.
“Well, that was decisive.”
“Just get one of the others to go with you.”
“Not going to be easy to coax someone off a beach and into a snowbank.”
“We’ve all got our problems,” Mike told him, and instantly, his mind shot back to Jenny.
The problem there was he couldn’t stop thinking about her, wanting her, needing her. And he knew damn well that there was no place in his life for her. He already knew that she was a liar. Okay, fine, she hadn’t lied lately. But that didn’t mean a damn thing. All it told him was that more lies were coming. When? What kind? And how the hell could he be so damn interested in a woman he knew he couldn’t trust?
Sean came back, sat in the chair again, braced his forearms on the desk and leaned in. “Talk to me, Mike. What is going on with you? What’s the deal with Jenny?”
Tempting to confide in Sean, but at the core of it, Mike wasn’t a big sharer. He kept his thoughts, his emotions, locked down tight. Not many people got past the wall he’d built around himself. He loved his brother, but there were some things a man just didn’t discuss. With anyone.
Shaking his head, Mike scraped one hand across his face. “Nothing I want to talk about, okay?”
Sean watched him for a long minute before saying, “All right. But I’m here when you want to talk. Remember that.”
“I will.”
“Okay,” Sean said. “You’re going to Mom and Dad’s tonight, right? Not backing out?”
From one problem to another. Mike had considered blowing off his father’s birthday dinner. He didn’t need the aggravation piled on top of everything else going on. All he needed was to stoke the fire burning at the back of his brain. But if he didn’t show up, his mother would make him pay. Somehow. Didn’t seem to matter how old you were, your mother retained power over you. And Peggy Ryan had no difficulty wielding that power.
“Yeah, I’m going.”
“Wow, feel the enthusiasm.”
Mike glared at him. “I’m going. Should be good enough.”
“You keep saying things that make me want more information,” Sean told him, leaning back in his chair. He kicked his feet up and crossed them on the corner of Mike’s desk. “You don’t want to talk about Jenny. How about you tell me why you’re always pissed at Dad.”
“Not going there, either.”
“You are not an easy person to have for a brother,” Sean told him with a shake of his head. “You’ve got more secrets than the CIA.”
“And the nature of a secret is, it’s not talked about.”
“That’s what you think,” Sean countered. “You know I could find out. I could just go to Mom.”
“Don’t.” He didn’t want his mother reminded of old pain. Didn’t want her to have to tell her other son the things she’d inadvertently told Mike so many years before.