The Redemption Of Lillie Rourke. Loree Lough

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      Hon. If anyone else had said it, Jase would have chalked it up to a “Baltimore-ism.” But Whitney had never been one to imitate others.

      Unlike Lillie, who loved colloquialisms and spouted them every chance she got.

      He caught himself smiling, and didn’t like it one bit. Jase ground a fist into a palm. He’d worked hard to get her out of his system, to get on with life, without her. And he’d succeeded. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—let her destroy that!

      * * *

      “IT’S ABOUT TIME you got here.” Jase’s sister-in-law leaned in and lowered her voice. “Your mom is looking a mite peaked today.”

      “Is that right.” He hadn’t planned on stopping by to visit his mother this evening, so her snappish comment didn’t make sense. “She looked fine when I was here the day before yesterday.”

      Dora huffed. “Well, she doesn’t look fine now. She’s in her office.” She made a shooing motion with her hand. “Go. I’ll bring you both some iced tea.”

      “Okay, thanks. That sounds great.” He paused in the kitchen doorway. “Where’s Drew?”

      Dora rolled her eyes. “Working. Naturally.”

      Perhaps that explained her surly mood. “You and that brother of mine put in way too many hours.” He would have added, It’s probably a good thing that you two don’t have kids, but his dad had made that mistake once, years back, and immediately regretted it. “He’s joining us for supper though, right?”

      “Your guess is as good as mine.”

      “He’s nuts if he doesn’t show up. Something smells delicious.”

      “Stuffed shells. My grandmother’s recipe.”

      “Now I’m glad my dinner date was canceled.”

      “Oh? Trouble in paradise, huh?”

      In place of an answer, Jase raised his eyebrows.

      “Let me be more precise. Are you and Whitney fighting?”

      “No.” Times like these, he didn’t need to remind himself that Dora was a lawyer. “Why do you ask?”

      “You look a little down.”

      “It’s been a long, weird day.” Weird, and exhausting. The on-then-off-then-on-again restaurant date had killed his appetite, and he’d been relieved when Whitney called it off...again. When she’d come out of the bathroom, the bad weather seemed to have shifted her mood again, and she’d asked for a raincheck.

      Dora shrugged. “This is out of line, so I’ll apologize ahead of time for saying, right up front, that I’ll never understand what you see in her.”

      Jase stepped back into the kitchen.

      “She seems nice enough, and there’s no denying she’s smart. Everyone at the firm thinks so. But I get the feeling you’re not very comfortable with her. Whenever she’s around, you seem like you’re walking on eggshells.”

      Women’s intuition? Or more proof that she was a good attorney? Jase had always worked hard to keep things like that to himself.

      Dora held up a hand and continued with, “I know you didn’t ask, but if you had, I’d say you just don’t seem happy with her. Not like you were with Lillie, anyway. I loved watching you two together, the way you’d go back and forth, cracking jokes, laughing, so at ease with one another.”

      Jase had never put much stock in metaphysical stuff, but it sure did seem like the universe was conspiring against him today. First, he’d run into Lillie and her dad. Then, Whitney got all bent out of shape over the meeting. And now, here was Dora, telling him that he’d seemed more content with Lillie than with Whitney. Had she forgotten everything Lillie had put him through, everything she’d cost him? Did she think he’d forgotten?

      Dora pressed a tumbler against the ice dispenser. “I know what you’re thinking,” she said as cubes clinked into the glass. “You think I’ve forgotten everything that happened after her accident. To be more precise, everything she did after the accident.” She filled a second glass with ice and all but slammed it onto the counter. “You know we were friends. I remember how quickly she went downhill. Was I hurt by it? Of course. Was I disappointed in her? You bet! But addiction is a sickness, Jase. If her doctors hadn’t overprescribed those meds in the first place, then cut her off just like that...” She snapped her fingers. “Suffice it to say we could all have been there for her. We were supposed to love and support her.”

      He had loved Lillie, more than he’d loved any woman before or since. Loved her still, despite his best efforts to smother it. As for being supportive, how many chances was he supposed to give her?

      “Look, Dora, I know you mean well, but trust me, there were a lot of things you didn’t see or hear, things I’ve never talked about.” Like the times Lillie had overdosed, and if he hadn’t been around to rush her to the ER...

      He knuckled his eyes, hoping to rub away the painful images. “Anyway, I appreciate your concern, but you can relax. Whitney and I aren’t fighting.”

      She stared at him for a few seconds before saying, “That’s good, because you’re the closest thing I have to a brother, and I want you to be happy.”

      “I have everything a guy could want—good job as CEO of a thriving company, nice condo, enough money to keep the wolf from the door, loving family, gorgeous, successful girlfriend—who just hinted that she loves me, for your information—so why on earth wouldn’t I be happy.”

      “Oh, Jase...she did?”

      Unless he’d lost all people-reading skills, Dora looked pained.

      “How did you handle that?”

      “If she actually says it, well, I’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

      Months ago, he’d decided to give up on dating. He’d had it with well-intentioned friends trying to set him up with the perfect woman, one who’d help him get over Lillie. And then, at one of Drew and Dora’s shindigs, he’d met Whitney. She wasn’t perfect, but then, neither was he. Besides, perfection was overrated. A satisfying existence could be just as fulfilling as a happy one, right? And he sure didn’t appreciate the cosmos, or whatever it was, interfering with his almost perfect life.

      Jase picked up the glasses, and as he turned to leave the kitchen, he grazed Dora’s cheek with a brotherly kiss.

      “Thanks for caring, sis. And just so you know, I love you, too.”

      He could still see her tiny grin as he rounded the corner into his mother’s office.

      Colette was lounging in her favorite chair—a flowery, overstuffed thing that was wide enough to accommodate a linebacker—a romance novel in her lap. She’d kicked off her shoes and propped both stockinged feet on the matching ottoman.

      “You’re early,” she said, glancing up from her book.

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