“You don’t love him.”

“I think I might.” The minute the words were out, Brenna pressed a hand to her heart, as if someone had just delivered a blow to it. “I think I might,” she said again, then just slid down to her knees. “Oh, sweet God Almighty, what am I to do?”

Mary Kate could only gape. Her sister had gone dead white and was rocking on her knees and clutching her chest as if she was having a seizure. “Stop that. You’re playacting.”

“I’m not. I can’t. I can’t seem to breathe right.”

Suspicious, Mary Kate walked over and gave Brenna a hefty thump on the back. “There.”

Her breath whooshed out, wheezed in. “Thanks.” She sank weakly onto her heels. “I can’t deal with this now, I can’t. I shouldn’t be expected to. It was bad enough the way things were, but this won’t do. It won’t do at all. This fixes nothing, but only shifts the weight. Damn it.”

Since Brenna made no move to get up, Mary Kate sat down. “I think I could forgive you if you were in love with him. Are you just saying you are so I will?”

“No. And I didn’t say I was, I said I might be.” Desperate, Brenna grabbed her sister’s hand. “You’re to tell no one. I want your word you’re to say nothing of this, or I’ll strangle you in your sleep. Swear it to me.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, why should I go around telling anyone? So I can look like a bigger horse’s ass?”

“It’ll probably go away.”

“Why should you want it to?”

“In love with Shawn Gallagher.” Brenna rubbed her hands over her face, ran them back into her hair. “What a pretty mess that would be. We’d drive each other crazy inside a year—me always wanting to get things done, him dreaming the time away. The man can’t remember to plug in a cord, much less fix one that’s gone off.”

“What difference does that make? You can fix it. And dreaming’s what he does. How else could he make up all that music?”

“And what’s the point of making it up if you do nothing with it?” Brenna waved it away. “Oh, it doesn’t matter. It’s not what either of us was after when we started. I’m just doing the bloody female thing, and it annoys me. Why do women have to turn attraction into love?”

“Maybe there was love hiding under the attraction all along.”

Brenna lifted her head. “Why do you suddenly have to get wise?”

“Maybe because you’re not treating me like a foolish girl anymore. And maybe because when I look at you right now, it occurs to me that it might not have been love I was feeling for him. It didn’t make me go pale and tremble, that’s for certain. And . . .” She sat back, a faint sneer on her face. “Maybe because it’s satisfying under the circumstances to see you look weak and terrified. You damn near pulled my hair out by the roots yesterday.”