A Blazing Little Christmas(12)
“She shouldn’t have taken up with the competition.”
The hell with trying to use any more polite subtleties. “That was her choice. And mine. And frankly, it’s none of your business. If she and I can work through that—which we have—I fail to see why you and your family can’t.”
“What about your family? I haven’t noticed them turning cartwheels.”
“Maybe not, but any objections they may feel have nothing to do with Jess. My sisters like her. A lot. And they’re happy for me that we found each other.”
Marc’s only reply was a stony stare into his scotch.
Eric resisted the urge to drag his hands through his hair in frustration. “Look, maybe I’m not the guy you would have chosen for your sister, but here’s the brutal truth—it’s not your choice. It’s hers. And for all our sakes, especially Jess’s, it would be nice if we could reach some sort of détente here.”
Eric took a long pull on his beer and waited, but Marc still remained silent. Hopefully he was thinking the détente thing was a good idea, but based on his fierce scowl, that didn’t seem promising.
Unable to stand the awkward silence any longer, Eric said, “I get why your mother is here, but how did you get roped into coming along? Are you the muscle?”
“I’m the driver. She doesn’t like to drive in the snow.” He glanced toward the table then tossed back a swig of scotch. “Last place on earth I wanna be.”
“Last place on earth I want you to be.”
A noise that sounded like a reluctant laugh passed Marc’s lips. “How is it you can take off four days during one of the busiest weeks of the year? Business not good?”
Was that a hopeful sound in Marc’s voice? Probably. “Business is great,” Eric replied. “Definitely not the best time for me to be away, and it wasn’t easy to arrange the time off, but Jess comes first.”
The sound of Kelley’s slightly raised and very terse voice caught Eric’s attention. “It is absolutely essential that the band play a selection of current songs, Carol.”
Marc shot a frown toward the table. “Your sister’s a real ‘my way or the highway’ sort of woman.”
Eric cocked a single brow. “Guess you’d recognize that trait since you’re clearly a real ‘my way or the highway’ sort of guy.”
The minute the words slipped out Eric wondered if they’d undo whatever small progress they seemed to be making. But Marc nodded. “I guess I can be. Sometimes. At least with regards to my sister. And this wedding.”
Shocked—pleasantly so—that Marc would admit as much, Eric said, “Same with Kelley. She doesn’t like to waste time. She’s disgustingly efficient. Knows exactly what she wants and isn’t afraid to go after it.”
“Does she always get it?”
“Almost always. She’s very successful at her job. You are, too. Which means you at least have that in common. So maybe you can quit giving her the death stare every time you see her.”
Marc studied him for several seconds with an unreadable expression, then said, “Jess told me Kelley raised you and your sisters from the time you were twelve.”
“That’s right.” He debated how much detail he should go into, but figured since this seemed a relatively safe topic, he might as well run with it. So he told Marc about his parents’ deaths, and how Kelley had quit college and been dumped by her fiancé. How she’d set aside her own life to raise three kids when she wasn’t much more than a kid herself.
He finished by saying, “She’s an incredible woman. I owe her a lot.”
Marc slowly nodded, clearly mulling over the tale. Finally he said, “Must have been hard.”
“It was. But we also had a lot of good times.”
“I didn’t know about her fiancé and all.”
“Yeah, well, maybe if you’d take a few minutes to get to know us instead of writing us off as nothing more than ‘the competition’—and maybe smile once or twice while you’re at it—you’d figure out we’re not so bad.”
“I could say the same to you.”
“Maybe,” Eric conceded. “But I never wrote you off as the competition.” He grinned. “I wrote you off as a scowling jerk.”
Marc’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure if I’m amused or pissed off.”
“Why not go with amused?”
“I’m not sure I like you.”
“Yeah, well the jury’s still out on you, too.”
“Still, this last half hour is the first time I haven’t been tempted to toss you into a Dumpster,” Marc said, his tone musing.