“Do you still love Luellen?”

Bobby Joe dodged the question by asking one of his own. “Why should I? Even before the stud of the century came along, I knew I wasn’t the only man in her life. She’s probably made it with a dozen guys before me, maybe more. She liked to act all fluttery and hard to get, but I can assure you she was no virgin.”

A thought struck Parr to the core. “Was Mary Beth?” He had to know. A lot of things would depend on it. If his brother could bring himself to be completely truthful for once . . . Parr felt as if a huge, cruel hand were grasping his heart, preparing to jerk it brutally from his body.

“What?”

“Were you the first with Mary Beth? She’s younger than you.”

“Yeah. By a few years. So?”

Parr persisted. “You didn’t answer the important part of that question.”

“Of course I was first,” Bobby Joe boasted. “These days, no one cares though, right?”

Parr didn’t take up that argument, if it was one. “But you just said that you prefer Lue’s sexual experience to Mary Beth’s cool innocence. I’m asking you again, do you still love Luellen?”

“Yes, damn it!”

“Then how can you say you love—”

Bobby Joe didn’t let him finish. “Oh man. Am I on trial here?”

“No, but—”

“Then just shut up. I love them both, but it’s Mary Beth that I want to marry.”

“What kind of husband will you be if you’re always hankering after other women?”

“A good one. Good as I can be, I guess.” Bobby Joe quickly amended his statement at Parr’s withering glare. “Back off. I don’t understand how any of this got to be your business.”

“I’m simply judging you on past performance.”

“That’s what I get for trying to explain,” Bobby Joe grumbled. “But hey, is it news to you that we’re living in the twenty-first century? Things that used to matter a whole lot don’t anymore. The rules of relationships are just different. Do you have a problem with that?”

“Yeah.”

If his brother didn’t give a damn about using women however he wanted, Parr did. He couldn’t bear the thought of Mary Beth being hurt again. He remembered how fragile she had seemed last night, although he would bet anything he wasn’t wrong about the streak of steel underneath all that tenderhearted emotion. No matter what, she would be devoted to the man she chose to love.

Neither man heard the kitchen door open. Neither saw Mary Beth standing in the doorway, her jade eyes moving from one to the other before resting on Parr’s bare chest. A dusting of fine dark hair was just enough to delineate the muscles. His arms were strong and thick, traced with a few barely visible veins under the tawny skin.