Off Limits (2 page)

We all ignored that because we totally knew he didn’t mean it. Mom had been very careful to raise all of us without gender-specific ideas about household tasks. The boys had cooked meals and scrubbed toilets
as much as I had, and Dad had taught me to check my oil and tire pressure and had made me take my turn cutting the grass. Even Andrew had never complained about having to do that stuff, but then, his place in our home had been a little different.

I grabbed some tomatoes and started slicing them on a cutting board while everyone else moved into action, everyone except Dad, that is. Dad didn’t
cook. Ever. I still remembered the day Daniel had called him a hypocrite because he made his sons learn how to cook but he refused to boil water. Dad had been furious and had slammed Daniel into the wall and told him to do as he said, not as he did. They’d both been incensed, and now, in hindsight, I was pretty sure Dad was so angry because Daniel had actually been right.

Also, because the reason
we’d had to learn how to cook was that Mom was an atrocious cook.

Dad was a tough, strict disciplinarian who took no crap from his kids. He also loved us beyond measure, so even though there’d been lots of rebellion and shouting, door-slamming fights (mostly between Dad and Daniel—we figured Daniel kind of eased the way for the rest of us), we respected him for the values he’d tried to teach
us.

Daniel grabbed a big bag of potato chips and dumped them into a bowl, while Connor sliced rolls in half and Andrew set jars of pickles, mustard, and mayo on the counter.

Okay, everybody was helping except Jon, who naturally wasn’t familiar with the kitchen and sat on a stool at the small island, a little apart from everyone, smiling faintly at the affectionate insults being tossed around.

“For the love of goats, someone needs to change that music,” I said as the song shifted to David Bowie singing “Fame.”

“This is a classic.” Mom frowned at me over the eyeglasses perched on the tip of her little nose.

“Good song for a hotshot hockey star.” Connor smirked at Andrew. Andrew gave him the finger—with his back turned to Mom so she couldn’t see. Connor threw a bun at Andrew, who caught
it with flashy reflexes and a grin.

“Hey, hey, no throwing food, boys.” Mom waved a hand.

“Kind of hard to believe I’m sitting in a kitchen with an NHL player.” Jon leaned his elbows on the island.

“You a hockey fan?” Andrew asked casually.

I sent Jon a curious glance as I separated some lettuce leaves. He wasn’t much into sports, although we’d gone to a Rangers game when he’d taken clients
out with the company tickets.

“I watch some games,” Jon said. “You play for the Chicago Aces, right?”

“Right. First season there.”

“That was a good game last night,” Connor said. “Volkov should’ve gotten a penalty for that hit on you in the third.”

I hadn’t watched the game and I shot Andrew a glance. “What happened?”

“Dirty hit from behind,” Connor answered for him. “Right on the numbers.
Asshole.”

“He is an asshole.” Andrew circled his shoulders and winced. “Still feeling that one. But I’m okay. It’ll be nice to have a few days off.”

“How long do you have?” I set a stack of plates on the counter.

“Next game’s on the twenty-seventh.”

I nodded. We’d all come home a few days before Christmas. Jon and I were staying until the twenty-seventh, but I knew Daniel and Emily were leaving
on December twenty-sixth.

“Home game?” Jon asked.

“Yeah. I’ve got a flight back that morning.”

“You found a nice apartment to live in?” Mom asked. “We need to come visit you sometime.”

“Mom. You won’t come to New York to see me. Why will you go to Chicago to see Andrew?” I was only half teasing.

“We’ve seen your apartment.” Mom gave me a look over her glasses again. “We’ve never seen Andrew’s.
He just moved there a few months ago.”

“It’s okay.” Andrew flashed Mom a grin. “It’s in a safe neighborhood.”

“Well, good.”

As if a guy earning millions of dollars a year was going to end up living in some crappy apartment in a bad neighborhood. But it was nice that Mom cared.

I knew how much that meant to Andrew.

I bent my head and moved some forks around as a little lance of pain flashed
through me.

I watched Jenna move to the fridge and stick her head inside as if she wanted to climb into it and hide. She was small enough that she could probably fit. But what was up with that?

“Okay, everyone help yourselves,” Brenda said. “There’s turkey and ham and salami. Build yourself a sandwich. I’ve got a bunch of Christmas cookies and goodies for after.”

“Did you make them, Mom?”
Daniel asked with a smirk.

“Ha. No. I bought them at the church bake sale.”

Daniel grinned, knowing that would be the answer. We all knew that would be the answer. Brenda did not bake.

I was still reeling from being introduced to Jenna’s boyfriend. What the fuck?

This surprised me just because I didn’t realize she was seeing anyone. But I was fine with it. Really.

Emily reappeared with Christopher,
now wide awake, kicking his little legs in tiny black sweatpants. Hard to believe Daniel was a father. Wow. I liked kids, but babies scared the crap out of me. They were so small and helpless and dependent. And yet Daniel didn’t seem terrified.

“Want me to make you a sandwich, hon?” Daniel asked Emily.

“That’s okay. I’ll feed Christopher and then you can take him while I get myself something
to eat.”

“I’ll take him when you’re done,” Jenna offered, staring at the baby as she had when I’d walked in. She apparently wasn’t terrified either. In fact, she looked completely infatuated by the little dude. I hadn’t been lying when I said the baby looked good on her. She’d appeared so beautiful and sweet, smiling down at him.

“No, I will.” Brenda frowned at her daughter.

Jenna grinned.
“I just got here! You’ve had him for a day already.”

Emily laughed. “You two can take turns with him.” She disappeared and Gary walked in, rubbing his hands, apparently eager for food. The MacFaddens all loved their food, despite the fact none of them could cook worth shit. Not that I’d ever say that out loud.

We all filled plates and moved to the big dining room table to sit and eat, not formal
at all, which was cool.

I ended up sitting next to Jon.

The fact that she’d brought him home for Christmas meant it was serious. Annoyance buzzed inside me. I studied the dude covertly as we ate, taking in the precise way he held his sandwich, the neat sweater with button-down shirt beneath it, the clean-shaven face.

He was a dipshit.

I’d formed this opinion in a matter of minutes. But there
it was. I didn’t like him.

I couldn’t let this on to anyone else, of course. None of my business who Jenna dated. I was part of this family…but not really. Since I’d moved in with the MacFaddens when I was sixteen, I’d been aware of that.

Gary, Daniel, and Connor would do a good job figuring out whether this guy was good enough for Jenna. Except, they seemed to like him. They were talking to
him and asking him questions about his job—an accountant, for fuck’s sake. Could you be any more boring than that?

Jenna needed so much more. She was fun and adventurous and creative. An accountant? Jesus.

“I’m an associate director in Financial Planning and Analysis,” Jon said. “I manage a team of accountants. We do preparation of monthly financial statements, management reports, and analyses.”

Something lodged in my gut just below my diaphragm.

I hadn’t seen Jenna for a couple of years. Last year at Christmas the schedule worked out that I had only a couple of days off and it wasn’t worthwhile to fly home from L.A. I spent my summers back in Connecticut, mostly, working out, doing some hockey camps, fishing with Gary. But Jenna didn’t come home very often. She’d worked summers between
college terms at a bunch of different jobs in other places. Now she had her new career in New York, working at HMNC, an international accounting firm, where Jon apparently also worked. She’d ended up with a job in human resources, which surprised me, because when we were young, she’d loved kids and had always wanted to be a teacher.

“They should definitely ban fighting in the NHL,” Jon said,
the conversation having moved away from accounting and back to hockey.

Idiot.

Then I swallowed a sigh. No, I was the idiot. This guy was sophisticated and educated. He probably knew fine wines and played chess. This was the kind of man Jenna was interested in?

“What’s the plan for tonight?” Daniel asked.

“Leesha is having a get-together at the Fat Badger.” Jenna named her best friend. “She
said to bring you all.” She eyed Connor. “Including you.”

“You young people all go out and have fun,” Brenda said. “Dad and I will babysit Christopher tonight.”

Right on cue, Christopher appeared. Well, Emily carried him into the room, held to her shoulder with a blanket draped over him. She patted him firmly on the back. Jenna and Brenda both jumped up as if to take him from Emily and then
exchanged glares.

I had to grin.

“Fine.” Brenda huffed, sitting again.

Christopher let out a large belch.

“Attaboy.” Daniel nodded approvingly.

“Okay, here you go!” Emily handed Christopher to Jenna. “I’m starving. Be right back. Oh wait. You might want this. Just in case.” She draped the blanket over Jenna’s shoulder.

The look on Jenna’s face made me burst out laughing. She bugged out those
big blue eyes at me as she turned Christopher over her shoulder and began patting his back. “What?”

“You look like you’re afraid he’s going to barf all over you.”

“He
has
had a couple of episodes of projectile vomiting,” Daniel said. “Hit the wall in the nursery one night from five feet.” Paternal pride filled his voice.

“Not at the dinner table, Daniel,” Brenda said.

Daniel shrugged as everyone
else grimaced.

“After lunch we’re going to decorate the tree,” Brenda said. “We waited until everyone was here.”

“Yay.” Jenna patted Christopher’s back tentatively. “I love decorating the tree. But you have to let me play Christmas music.”

Brenda’s lips twitched. “We can play my Boney M. Christmas CD.”

Everyone groaned.

“He’s falling asleep.” Daniel peered at Christopher. “I’ll take him and
put him down.”

“I can do it. In your old room?”

“No, I have to do it.” Daniel removed his son from Jenna’s arms. “He has to be laid down a certain way.”

Jenna’s eyebrows flew up into her hair and somehow her eyes met mine. We exchanged a “what the fuck?” look of shared amusement that gave me a weird, fizzy feeling in my chest. One corner of her mouth lifted in a wry smile, so familiar and cute.
I smiled in response.

“I guess I don’t know enough about babies.” She leaned on the back of a chair. “I think it’s time for wine.”

“We don’t have any.”

Jenna’s head whipped up to stare at her mom. “Say what?”

“Sorry. I didn’t have time to go to the liquor store.”

Emily walked into the room carrying a plate loaded up with a giant sandwich, a big pickle, and potato chips. She took a seat at
the table. “We have beer. Daniel made sure to pick some up. I’m not drinking because I’m breastfeeding.”

“Thanks for thinking of me, bro,” Jenna muttered, although Daniel had already left. “Luckily Jon and I brought a couple of bottles. But we’ll have to go to the store and get more.”

“Yes, we brought a really nice Côtes du Rhône,” Jon said. “And a good Pinot Noir.”

I resisted the urge to roll
my eyes, but I caught Connor’s glance as he said, straight-faced, “Fabulous. I love a good Côtes du Rhône.”

I almost choked, trying not to laugh. Fuck, I missed him. I missed all these people. It was so damn good to be home.

I knew how lucky I was to have them in my life and swore I’d never stop appreciating them. They were wacky and unconventional, but fuck, they were good people.

“I brought
a bottle of wine too,” I added. I couldn’t look at Jenna when I said what it was. “Snobby Frog Chardonnay.”

Even though I wasn’t looking at her, I felt the air around us change. I stared at my empty plate, feeling the waves of…something coming off her.

“I love Snobby Frog,” she finally said.

I know.
“Oh good.”

Jon’s face wore a perplexed look. Fucker.

“Well, that should do us for today.”
I snuck a peek at Jenna and caught her grin. Not only did the MacFaddens like their food, they liked their liquor. “Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve. The stores will be crazy.”

“We can get out early,” I replied. “Before things get too busy.”

“Right.”

I felt her gaze on me and refused to look up. “The wine’s in the fridge.” I picked up my plate. “I’ll open it if you want a glass. How about you, Brenda?”

“That would be lovely, Andrew.”

Soon we were all in the living room with drinks, surrounded by boxes of Christmas ornaments. “Mary’s Boy Child” played over the sound system. Woop.

“I’ll start with the lights.” Gary pulled a pile of cords out of a box and began to untangle them. I reached for one end to help. When that was done we plugged them in to test them. One string out of five lit up.

“Christ.” Gary stared at them. “Okay, start checking bulbs.”

Connor and I got to work on that and after about half an hour we admitted defeat. My patience had long disappeared and I was about ready to snap one of the cords with my bare hands.

“Looks like we’re making a trip to Rusty’s,” Gary said, naming the local hardware store. “Daniel, you come with me.”

“Sure.”

“Well, if you’re going to
the hardware store, I’ll go to the liquor store.” Connor stood. “It’s right next door. Hey, Jon, wanna come?”

“Sure. I can help pick out some nice wines.”

Connor winked at me behind Jon’s back.

“I’m going to check on Christopher,” Emily said. “And maybe lie down myself. He was up a lot in the night and I’m kind of tired.”

“Does he usually sleep through the night?” Jenna asked.

“He has been,
yeah. I think maybe because he’s in a strange place he woke up.”

“I’ll go with you to Rusty’s,” Brenda said. “I need a new turkey baster.”

Oh Christ. Brenda was going to attempt to cook a turkey. You’d think she’d have mastered it by now, but…well it had been a couple of years, so maybe she had. I’d be optimistic.

Brenda moved to the front closet to retrieve her coat and spotted the suitcases
still sitting there. “Andrew, can you carry Jenna’s suitcase up to her old room? Jon, you’re in the upstairs guest room.”

Huh. I checked out Jenna’s expression at hearing that she and Jon would be in separate bedrooms for their stay here. She appeared mildly surprised but gave a little lift of one shoulder.

“I can take my suitcase up,” she said.

“No, I’ll do it,” I said.

After a brief flurry
of activity while the others all donned coats and boots and then exited, the door slammed shut and suddenly Jenna and I were all alone surrounded by silence. I lifted the case. “Wow, how long did you say you’re staying?”

Jenna waved a hand. “Not you too. Don’t give me a hard time about my overpacking.” She moved to pick up another bag, apparently Jon’s, but I shouldered her aside and grabbed
it. I grinned and hefted both suitcases up the wide stairs.

I knew which room was hers, of course. There were four bedrooms on the second level. The door to Daniel’s old room—where Emily had gone to have a nap with Christopher—was closed. Jenna’s room was at the end of the hall. I carried her suitcase in and parked it. “This okay?”

She followed me in. “Sure, yeah. Great.” Her smile held a hint
of tightness at the corners of her mouth.

We were alone. Other than a sleeping Emily and Christopher, somehow everyone had gone out and left us alone. “I, uh, guess you’ll want to unpack.”

“Right. I should do that while everyone’s out.”

I tried not to stare at her, but damn, it was like my eyes were hungry for her. She was wearing a pair of skinny jeans with a sky blue turtleneck sweater that
matched her eyes and hugged her slender curves. She was a little thing, always had been, taking after Brenda, with a delicate bone structure and small features. Her dark hair hung from a center part down over her shoulders in long waves.

She flipped that hair back and met my eyes. The air around us hummed and warmed.

Right. I was holding her boyfriend’s suitcase. I swallowed and glanced down
at it, resisting the urge to walk over to the big window, open it, and chuck the case through it. “I’ll take this into the guest room.” Which was actually Connor’s old room.

“I can do it.”

I shrugged. “No problem.” I paused. Sunlight beamed in the window framed with sheer blue curtains and gleamed off her hair. “How long have you two been seeing each other?”

“A few months.” Her lips tipped
up into that tight smile again.

I nodded. “I guess it’s pretty serious if he’s here for Christmas.”

She pursed her lips and squinted briefly. “Well, I don’t know about that.” Then she smiled. “He’s a nice guy. We’ll see how things go.”

Fuck that. She needed more than a nice guy. “Happy for you, Jen.”

“Thanks.” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she gazed back at me. She clasped
her hands together and squeezed. The air around us thickened and heated even more.

Damn.

This was all wrong. I lifted a hand and exited the room. I carried Jon’s bag into the room that used to be Connor’s, my mind racing, my eyes not really seeing anything. I tossed it on the bed and jogged downstairs. At the bottom of the stairs, in the foyer, I paused and took a deep breath, not sure what
I was going to do now. With everyone gone but Jenna (and the sleeping mom and baby), I stood in the living room and surveyed the mess. Guess I could toss the lights that weren’t working. I poked around in the kitchen and found some trash bags, grabbed one, and started shoving dead lights in.

“What are you doing?”

My head whipped around at Jenna’s voice. “Getting rid of these broken lights.”

“Good idea.” She moved over to a box of tree ornaments and pulled out a tiny hockey player, holding it up. “Hey, here’s your hockey ornament.”

“Yeah. You gave me that the first Christmas I had with your family.”