Cormac had surprised me as I was wrapping gifts for my family, joining me in the kitchen with four boxes of Irish whiskey. “For your dad and brothers,” he said.

I cocked a brow at him. “What’s this?”

“Seems like your dad likes high-dollar scotch and Irish whiskey, but he ought to give this one a try.”

I picked up one of the boxes and gave it a pensive study before shifting my attention to him. “Where’s mine?”

“Here.”

I blinked as he pulled out something from behind his back. No. Two somethings. And one of them smelled divine. Lavender, I thought.

“Do I open them now?”

He shrugged. “Up to you, love.”

My heart shivered at the endearment. Offhand, I knew, but the hopeful thing in my chest still bounded in excitement.

I’d been struggling with certain revelations over the past few days and was no closer to figuring out how to deal with them now than I had been when I started. Since I wasn’t ready to let him know, I pushed all those feelings off to the side and fixed a sly smile on my face. “I’ll have you know that I’m never one to turn down a chance to open presents early.”

An amused smile appeared on his face as I snatched both bags away and marched over to the counter. I opened the heavier one first, correctly assuming it was a box of the same kind of whiskey. I put it to the side. I’d have a glass of it once I was done. Then I opened the second one—the one that smelled soooo lovely.

I found an entire assortment of lotions and soaps and bath stuff, all in the lush scent of lavender—and handmade in Ireland. Slanting a look at him, I asked, “Did you take a quick trip across the pond for these?”

“No.” With a roll of his eyes, he continued, “There are some shops that specialize in that sort of thing. My mum loves that scent.”

“You bought me soap that your mom likes?” I teased.

To my surprise, he blushed and started to stammer. “Well, yeah, but she…I mean…it reminds her of home, and…I…well…”

“Hey…” I went to him and pressed a kiss to his mouth. “I was teasing. And so what if she likes it? It just means she’s got amazing taste. It smells divine. I love lavender.”

“I noticed.” He caught a strand of my hair and curled it around his finger. “You’re always wearing it. And for the record, when you wear it, it doesn’t smell anything like when my mum does.”

“Glad you cleared that up,” I told him with a wide grin.

“Smart-ass.” He tugged me close, pressing his mouth to mine.

I stopped him when he would have deepened the kiss. “We need to get this stuff wrapped. You distract me, and we’ll be late.”

Despite his claims that he couldn’t buy anything for my family, Cormac hadn’t just bought whiskey for my dad and brothers, he’d picked up smaller sets of the bath items for Isabel and Daria.

When I told him he shouldn’t have, he shrugged it off. “My mum spent half my life trying to knock manners into me, Briar. Might have taken a while, but I’m finally remembering the lessons. Besides, it’s not like I spent a fortune.”

Now, weighted down with his packages and several of mine, we strode up the stairs to the broad porch, reaching the top just as my father opened the door for us.

“Briar! Merry Christmas!” He rushed out and caught me in a hug, then took the packages I held before turning a bright smile onto Cormac. “Good to see you again, son.”

Cormac gave him a polite nod as Brooks appeared in the doorway. He looked us both over. “Are there people under all those packages?”

“I think so.” Nodding toward my trunk, I said, “Want to help me get the rest?”

As he started past me, I glanced over at Cormac. “Are you good?”

“I’ve got him, darling. Don’t worry,” my father said before Cormac could respond.

Still, I looked at Cormac.

When he gave me a quick wink, I turned to join my brother.

“You think Dad’s going to kill him in the few seconds they’re alone?” Brooks asked, clearly amused.

“You’re so funny,” I told him dryly. “I bet you keep Daria laughing all the time with that wicked sense of humor.”

“Smart-ass.”

I grinned. “You know, Cormac said the same thing to me earlier today.”

“Well, you are a smart-ass, sis. Do you expect people not to point it out?”

I grabbed the few bags he didn’t, then hit the button to lower the trunk. Together we walked toward the house.

“You haven’t said anything,” Brooks said in a quiet voice.

I didn’t have to ask what he meant. I blew out a tired breath. “I’m still trying to figure out what to say, Brooks. But you asked me to wait. I’m trying to trust you.”

“Dad sold off a few more of his…shadier businesses last week,” he said softly. “He’s making changes.”

“Why doesn’t he just sell them all off?”

“It’s not that easy.” Brooks sounded grimmer now.

But before I could ask why, the door opened and Declan appeared.

“Hey, man!” Brooks called out, his voice easier and lighter.

The man was a chameleon when he wanted to be.

“Not bad.” Seamus Downing smacked his lips and studied his glass appreciatively before he shifted his attention to Cormac. “Not bad at all.”

Cormac lifted his glass and offered my father a crooked grin. “If you don’t mind me saying so, Mr. Downing, you don’t have to be a fuckin’ rich man to appreciate good Irish whiskey.”

My father broke out in a rich, deep laugh. One by one, my brothers followed. Even Daria laughed, although from what I could tell, Isabel only offered a faint, strained smile.

At the end of the gift exchange, when Daria broke out the cookies and cocktails, Isabel bolted out of the room.

Whether anybody else noticed, I couldn’t say.

Granted, I’d been on edge most of the afternoon. Maybe I was paranoid. I didn’t know. I’d never felt like this before, and I’d certainly never been in a situation where I felt so on edge. I’d definitely never had to handle anything like what I felt when compared to Isabel.

It wasn’t anything even remotely akin to jealousy.

But she watched Cormac.

It wasn’t with the same leering, hungry gaze I’d seen on the faces of women when we went out, either. There was something…speculative in her gaze. Something that made me worry, made me doubt.

I told myself I was worrying about nothing, told myself that Isabel, like me, was at odd ends.

Nobody else in the family noticed. They didn’t notice how she stood back from everything, watching Cormac and me, watching Brooks and me, watching everything with a distant, almost dispassionate air.

They didn’t even seem to notice how she managed to keep a polite distance between herself and everybody else in the room. It was an engaged sort of distance, and I admired the way she did it, laughing and smiling, but she wasn’t acting quite like herself.

But nobody else seemed to notice.

They definitely didn’t notice how she kept herself apart when her husband entered the room. She greeted him with the sort of smile one might give a stranger, then directed her attention to whatever trivial display was in front of her before letting her attention drift away.

So when she slid from the room, I was the only one who followed.

Isabel didn’t stop in the nearest hallway, and I had to jog to keep up with her. I was in decent shape, but compared to a dancer? I might as well be a couch potato. It took me a bit to close the distance, and by then, she was on her knees in a bathroom, tucked well off the main hall.

“Go away,” Isabel mumbled as I tried to wipe a thick washcloth over her forehead.

“Sure,” I said, indulging her. “When you can stand on your own two feet and point me in the right direction.”

She just groaned and bent back over the toilet.

“Go away,” she said again after a few uneventful moments passed. “Don’t you have better things to do?”

“Probably.” I touched my fingers to the pulse on her inner wrist. “And I’ll get right on that once you’re out there, shaking it with the rest of the family.”

She rolled a baleful eye toward me. “I don’t think I’m going to be shaking anything for a while.”

I weighed that comment against what I’d already considered. “How’s your appetite?”

“Shitty.” She sighed and dropped her brow onto her forearm. “Seriously, Briar. I appreciate the concern, but I’ve handled this for a couple of weeks. Just…go away.”

I couldn’t, though. I thought about Sean, and everything else. “I would…but you’re family, Iz.” Brushing a damp strand of hair back from her face, I asked, “Is there anything you’ve had luck holding down?”

She groaned.

But after a minute, her head lolled onto my palm, and she sighed. “Yeah. Maybe. I guess.”

“Going to tell me what it is, or do I get to play twenty questions?”

“Smart-ass.” A ghost of a smile appeared on her lips. “I do okay with ginger ale.”

“Want me to get you some?”

She nodded. “Thank you.” She hesitated, then added, “But you’re still a smart-ass. Just like Sean.”

Her heart showed in her eyes just then.

Taking her hand in mine, I squeezed her fingers.

“Does he know?”

She swallowed and shook her head. “I…I haven’t figured out how to tell him.”