She froze. He hadn’t intended to sound so sharp. Regret swept through him when he saw the color fade from her cheeks. He closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath.
“I care about my sister, and I know you feel the same for Liam. Would it be so awful for us to both think they’re rushing into this marriage? Would it really be so terrible for us to share an opinion on something?”
She glanced away from him. He guessed he’d irritated her, but he sensed she was torn, as well.
“You know what I mean, Colleen,” he continued in a low voice. “Even though you don’t want to admit it, you think they’re making this decision rashly. You don’t want to see Liam get hurt any more than I want to see Nat suffer.”
She said nothing as she stared out the window. Despite her cold expression, he knew if he touched her smooth cheek, she’d be warm.
And soft.
He stood and walked around his desk, moving away from her because he had a sudden desire to move closer. His movement put him in her line of vision. He caught her eye.
“You know I’m right,” he said quietly.
She looked annoyed. “Why do you always have to make a habit of proving that point?”
He shrugged and fell into his desk chair. He stretched and placed his hands behind his head. She glanced down over his neck and chest. He went still in sudden awareness.
She looked abruptly out the window. “There’s nothing we can do. They’ve made up their minds. You know how impossible it can be to talk reason to two people who are drunk in love with each other.”
“We have nearly two months to make them pause and reconsider their hastiness in the matter.”
Her eyes flashed at him. “We?” she asked, looking haughty—and damn beautiful. He nodded soberly, trying to prove to himself he was affected by neither of those things. He had a lot of experience, at this point, in deflecting Colleen’s burning stares.
Her beauty was a lot more difficult to ignore.
“Look, Marc and Mari will also be in the wedding party,” he said, referring to Colleen’s brother and his wife. “But you and I live here in Harbor Town. We’ll hire a wedding planner, but we’ll probably be the relatives most involved in the preparations.”
“And you’re reminding me of these unfortunate circumstances because…”
“Because it will give us a chance to…tweak the situation a little. Maybe provide Liam and Natalie with some more realistic perspectives on just how serious the venture of marriage is, and encourage them to take some time and at least think about extending their engagement.”
She stared at him, then shook her head slowly. “You’ve got
real nerve, you know that, Reyes?”
He smiled.
Color rushed into her cheeks. “It wasn’t a compliment,” she snapped.
He shrugged, hiding his grin with effort. Even when she snarled at him, she appealed. “Either way, you must realize what I’m saying makes sense. It’s not just Natalie I’m thinking of here. It’s Liam, too.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Do not try and make it seem like you’re being generous. It’s weakening your case. Considerably.” She began to pace in front of his desk. “Even if I did agree with you that they’re being impulsive, there’s nothing we can do. I know it won’t make any difference for me to talk to Liam about it. He’s stubborn as an ox when he makes up his mind about something, a Kavanaugh through and through.” She looked up. “Can you talk to Natalie?”
“I’ve tried a dozen times. It’s like talking to steel armor. The Kavanaughs haven’t cornered the market on stubbornness,” he said mildly.
“Humph,” she muttered, her sweeping gaze telling him loud and clear that while she doubted his claim in his sweet sister’s case, she certainly believed he’d received his fair share of bullheadedness. “What exactly do you mean by ‘tweaking the circumstances’? Do you want me to reveal some deep, dark secret about Liam to Natalie? Should I tell her that he used to not change the empty toilet-paper roll when he was fourteen years old? Do you think that will send her running?”
“No,” he replied levelly, refusing to allow her to prick his temper. “But I can think of a few things that might cause one of them to hit the pause button if the information was presented in just the right way.”
“Like what?’ she asked suspiciously.
“Don’t give me that look. I’m not picturing anything traumatic. Do you think I would ever purposefully hurt my sister?”
She hesitated, but when she finally resumed pacing and answered, she sounded honest enough.
“No.”