She crossed her arms and stared at him in silence for a few seconds, then muttered, "You know, it's really hard to be irritated at you when you act so sweet."
He grimaced. "Now you're just bein' mean."
Lily laughed and punched him on the shoulder. "Come on. Let's go fix some lunch." She looped her arm through his and they went back into the house.
She took a clean dish towel from the drawer and ran it under the cold water, then held it to the nape of her neck. Dante tried to hide his continuing concern, but as she took celery from the fridge and started chopping it for the salad she insisted he eat at least once a day, she kept glancing at him and shaking her head. Finally, she turned toward him and propped one hand on her hip. "Out with it."
He eyed the knife she held in her right hand. "What?"
"Just say it. Whatehe ay it. ver it is you're thinkin', just get it out so we can talk about it."
He cleared his throat and went back to forming hamburger patties. "And what makes you think I have anything to say?"
She waved the knife. "Don't be cute, Dante. I can see it in your eyes."
He tried to deflect the conversation. "It's hard for me not to be cute." He gave her a wink.
Lily rolled her eyes. "Oh, get over yourself already." She turned back to the celery and started chopping again, her movements slow but steady.
Dante had to wonder if her knife strokes were controlled so he wouldn't see her hands shake with fatigue. He rubbed the back of his neck. God, he hated this. He was helpless against cancer-he couldn't intimidate it, he couldn't punch it in the nose. Unlike her worthless ex-husband.
He smiled at the memory of the last time he'd seen Tony Fabrizio. The other man had been lying on the floor of the living room in the house he and Lily had once shared. The home to which Lily's name had never been added to the deed. The plush cream carpet had been spattered with the blood from Tony's broken nose, and Dante had walked out of the house with a hand that had hurt like hell.
The pain had been worth it. Now, though, fear gnawed at him constantly, and frustration that he couldn't do to the cancer what he'd done to her ex. He had to be crazy to think he was anywhere near being ready to get involved with a woman, especially Tori.
God, the need to punch something made his hands ball up into fists. Where was Tony Fabrizio when he needed the bastard?
"What's brought that smile to your face?" Lily asked with a sidelong glance at him. "It looks like trouble."
He shrugged. "Just thinkin' 'bout Tony."
"Uh-huh." She gathered up the chopped celery and put it in a bowl, then reached for a red bell pepper. The look on her face told him she knew exactly what he was replaying in his mind, and her next words confirmed it. "You're lucky he didn't file assault charges against you."
She was probably right, but he wouldn't change a thing. Tony had deserved much more than Dante had dished out. As far as he was concerned, the bastard was damned lucky all he'd ended up with was a broken schnoz. "We wouldn't have had that little chat if he'd been a man and taken care of you."
"I do not need a man to take care of me!" Lily slammed the knife down and turned toward the refrigerator. As she yanked open the door, she added, "The only thing the men in my life have done is cause me heartache."
"Well, some of us are just tryin' to help," Dante murmured. He carried the burgers over to the counter and placed them on the electric grill.
Lily sighed. She closed the refrigerator and walked over to him, rubbing her hand across his shoulder. "I know, Dante. And I appreciate it, I do. You've given me the chance to focus my attention on getting better without having to worry about paying bills or taking care of a home on my own. I just … " She pressed her lips together and walked to the other side of the kitchen island. She heaved a sigh. "I'm sorry. I realize I'm being defensive. But I hate this, having this enemy that's eatin' me from the inside out. The doctors say the cancer's eradicated, but they won't know if I'm in true remission for another couple of months." When she looked at him her eyes shone with tears. "There's just so much I want to do. I'm not ready to die."
"Hey, now, none of that." Dante put the lid on the pan and turned to face her. "You're not gonna die. You're gonna live long enough to be a little old lady who gripes about her eccentric, doddering older brother."
A slight smile tilted o itile tilne side of her mouth. "I do that now."
He brandished the spatula. "I'm neither eccentric nor doddering. Not yet."
"That's a matter of opinion." She gestured toward the dining room table. "What about all that crap?"
Dante looked at the computer parts lying on the table. "What about it?"
"It's been on that table for over a month."
"I'm working on it."
She raised her eyebrows. "Really?" She looked at the table again. "Every piece is in the exact spot it was in on the Fourth of July and hasn't been moved in five weeks." She shot him a look. "Hasn't even been dusted."
"So now you're complaining about my housekeeping skills?"
"Not at all." Her smile became more of a smirk. "I can handle a little dust. Besides, I'm sure you have other strengths, brother dear."
"Hmph." Dante was glad to see her smile, even if it was at his expense. He glanced at the table laden with a couple of hard drives, a motherboard, a quad-core processor, and a keyboard. "I've been busy." He felt the need to defend himself.
"I know." She tossed the chopped bell pepper into the salad bowl. Her tone was as placid as her expression. "Burgers are gonna burn." She tilted her head toward the grill.
Dante rescued the hamburgers before they carried their food out to the covered patio. In the shade and with the misters and overhead fans going, the heat was almost bearable. Over the next hour their banter continued, and he did his best to coax his sister to eat more every time she put her fork down.
Finally, she gave a sigh and pushed her plate away, half of the burger and part of the salad uneaten. Before Dante could say anything, she held up one finger. "Don't. I'm stuffed. At least I won't be throwing it up," she added on a sigh.
Her last chemo treatment had been six months ago and her dark hair had started growing back in a few months later. Right now it was about three inches long and as silken as baby hair. She missed having long hair, but he thought she looked adorable.
"Well, if you're sure," he said as he reached for her plate.
She rolled her eyes. "Oh, my God. You are a human garbage disposal, just like Mom always said."
He grinned and bit into her leftover burger.
"I still have salad, too."
Dante pushed his food to one cheek. "I'm good."
"Uh-huh. Your colon must love you."
"My relationship to my colon is personal and not something I want to discuss with my sister."
"Okay, okay." She stood and picked up her plate and glass. "As usual, your grilling skills are the best, bar none." She yawned. "I think I'm gonna go lie down for a few minutes."
Dante shot to his feet. "Lily … "
"Don't start." She gave him a warning look. Dante knew her insistence on independence was a defense against the uncertain turn her life had taken. His sister went on. "I'm just a little tired, that's all." When his phone rang she gave a small wave toward him. "I'll clean up the kitchen. You take your call."
"Lily, I can-"
When she raised one eyebrow she reminded him so much of their mother that he fell silent. Lily looked satisfied with his reaction and went into the house.
Dante pushed his plate out of the way and answered his phone. "MacMillan."
"It's Tobias."
Tobias Caine, the only vampire friend Dante had.
"What's up?" Dante stood and walked to the edge of the patio, making sure to stay in the shade.
"I wi1em">?ve been talking to Tori, and she's hit a wall on that, ah, unresolved matter of a few months ago."
He could only be talking about the rift device. Dante knew Tobias had given it to Tori, who had experience with various types of radios. From what Tobias had told him, she'd been some sort of radio communications officer during World War II. He tried not to think too hard about that, because then he'd be focused on how long she'd been alive and his head would explode. "What's the problem?"
"It's apparently more computerized than she's comfortable with. I need you to give her a hand if you don't mind."
Mind? Dante had been itching to get his hands on that little gizmo. Plus, it would give him an excuse to see Tori outside of work.
He scowled. It had been only about five hours ago that he'd told himself to lay off those kinds of thoughts. Yet here he was … "Sure, no problem." He was satisfied with how nonchalant he managed to sound. "Does she know you're asking me to help?"
"I just got off the phone with her. She sounded pleased."
"Did she now?" Dante pondered that a moment. Tori had been overt in her interest in him, which could cause all kinds of problems in and of itself. He wasn't ready to commit, for one thing. For another, she could kill him in an unguarded moment, or bite him and turn him into a werewolf. He was happy being human and really didn't care to change. On the other hand … she was funny, sexy, and intelligent. Completely his kind of woman, and he was an idiot not to pursue her. Crap. He was damned if he did and damned if he didn't.