She settled back in the deck chair, as if planning to stay despite the cold. She had on a heavy sweater and a pair of sheepskin boots, but he wasn’t sure even that was enough. He was feeling it, but then he’d come out here without his jacket precisely for that reason, to cool down after...

He caught himself sneaking a look at her, wondering if she regretted kissing him. She didn’t seem to, but he didn’t know what that meant. If it meant anything.

“Tell me about your sister.”

That startled him. “Nat? What about her?”

“Does she look like you?”

His mouth quirked. “Nah, she’s pretty.”

Amanda gave him a grin then that nearly stopped his heart. “So are you.” She didn’t give him a chance to react—a good thing since he was speechless at the moment—but went on. “Who does she resemble?”

“More Mom,” he managed to get out. “Lighter hair and blue eyes.”

“What’s she like?”

“Smart. Kind.” He hesitated, then added, “Content.”

The smile she gave him then held a touch of the wistfulness she’d mentioned before. “That’s something to aspire to.”

“Yes,” he agreed, meaning it wholeheartedly. “She’s been really happy since she finished school.”

“Did she go to WSU also?” she asked, referring to Washington State, the college he’d graduated from.

He nodded. “Another Wazoo-ite, just like Mom and Dad. She graduated with honors.”

“You sound proud.”

“I am. She’s a great kid.” He grimaced. “Well, she’s twenty-four now, so not a kid, but she’ll always be my kid sister.”

“I’m glad she’s got a big brother looking out for her.”

“It’s been more the other way around lately.” He regretted the words the moment they were out, but he’d been lulled by the surprisingly normal conversation.

“I’m glad she’s been there for you.”

“Nat’s...special.”

“Dad talked about you a lot,” she said in a seeming non sequitur he didn’t know how to answer and so said nothing. “He said it was rare to meet a kid—he called you that, too—with such a solid foundation. He said he’d like to meet your parents someday, because it had to be from them.”

“If I did, it was them,” he agreed, his throat tight.

“But not solid enough?”

He blinked, drew back a little. “What?”

“If it had been, it wouldn’t have been eaten away by guilt. You’d know there was nothing you could have done, no matter what an emotional wreck of a woman screamed at you.”

“But—”