“Please,” he said, “and then don’t touch it.”

Billie looked at George. The newspaper was still folded in his lap, and he was watching the two of them with amused curiosity.

“In the center of the table,” Andrew said.

Billie gave him a bit of a look. “Autocratic as always.”

“I am an artist.”

“Architect,” George said.

Andrew looked up, as if he’d forgotten his brother was there. “Yes,” he murmured. “Quite.”

Billie slid from her chair and knelt in front of the low table, adjusting her weight so as not to put pressure on her bad foot. She selected two cards from the messy pile near the table’s edge and balanced them into the shape of a T. Carefully, she released her fingers and waited to see if it was secure.

“Nicely done,” George murmured.

Billie smiled, absurdly pleased by his compliment. “Thank you.”

Andrew rolled his eyes.

“I swear, Andrew,” Billie said, using a third card to transform the T into an H, “you turn into the most annoying person when you’re doing this.”

“But I get the job done.”

Billie heard George chuckle, followed by the crinkling sound of the newspaper opening and then folding into a readable shape. She shook her head, decided that Andrew was extraordinarily fortunate she was his friend, and set a few more cards into place. “Will that be enough to get you started?” she asked Andrew.

“Yes, thank you. Mind the table when you get up.”

“Is this what you’re like at sea?” Billie asked, limping across the room to get her book before settling back down. “It’s a wonder anyone puts up with you.”

Andrew narrowed his eyes—at the card structure, not at her—and placed a card into position. “I get the job done,” he repeated.

Billie turned back to George. He was watching Andrew with a peculiar expression on his face. His brow was furrowed, but he wasn’t precisely frowning. His eyes were far too bright and curious for that. Every time he blinked, his lashes swept down like a fan, graceful and—

“Billie?”

Oh, God, he’d caught her looking at him.

Wait, why was she looking at him?

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “Lost in thought.”

“I hope it was something interesting.”

She choked on her breath before answering, “Not really.” Then she felt kind of terrible, insulting him without his even knowing it.

And without her really meaning to.

“He’s like a different person,” she said, motioning to Andrew. “I find it very disconcerting.”

“You’ve never seen him like this before?”

“No, I have.” She looked from the chair to the sofa and decided on the sofa. Andrew was now on the floor, and he wasn’t likely to want his spot back anytime soon. She sat down, leaning against the arm and stretching her legs out in front of her. Without really thinking about what she was doing she reached for the blanket that lay folded over the back and spread it over her legs. “I still find it disconcerting.”