A black eye was too good for him. Murder was the only way to end the insanity. It didn’t matter that Brad was a cop. She’d either have to murder him or live under his Nazi regime until she died, or worse, become the only spinster in the nursing home who’d never been to second base with a man.

A jury would be on her side.

The taxi came to an abrupt stop outside the condo she shared with her brother, and after paying the man with her last twenty dollars, Georgie charged up the walkway to confront her date-terminating sibling.

Swinging open the door, she stood motionless as she surveyed the room, and then found him. Brad was sitting on the floor in front of the TV, polishing his stupid gun without a care in the world. How perfect. Maybe having a police officer for a brother would finally pay off. Because as soon as he reassembled his gun, took off the safety, loaded it with bullets and instructed her on how to shoot the darn thing, she’d have the murder weapon.

Brad finally looked up when she slammed the door behind her. "Hey, Georgie," he said with a pleased smile, "you’re home early. How was your date with Hank the Broom Guy?"

"You mean Hank the Floor Guy," she snarled. "He repairs hardwood floors for a living. He doesn’t sweep them." Dropping her purse at her feet, she glowered at him. "How could you?"

He had the nerve to flutter his eyes as if he was doing a bad Scarlet O’Hara impression. "How could I what?"

"You had my date arrested!"

Brad shot up his hands. "Now hold on. Hank was actually arrested?" He was about to laugh, but obviously thought better of it. The first intelligent thing she’d seen him do since she began living with him.

"Oh, come on," he said. "How the heck could I do that? I was off work all night just sitting here minding my own business, cleaning my GLOCK." He held up the barrel of his pistol and gave her an innocent smile. "See? Clean as a whistle."

She snorted. "Give me a break. I know how you operate. You called in a favor, didn’t you?"

He dropped his sandy-brown head, suddenly concentrating on reassembling his gun. "Uh… I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Oh, you don’t?" she mocked, rounding in on him. "Well, allow me to fill you in. Hank and I just about made it to the restaurant—which would have been a record for me—when we were pulled over because one of your police officer buddies said Hank wasn’t wearing a seatbelt. But he was! And you know what else, Brad? Low and behold, the officer did a check on his license and found they had a bench warrant out on him for not paying a traffic ticket. They just left his car there, cuffed him and hauled him to the station. Hank tried to tell them he had a good excuse for missing his court date, but your friends wouldn’t listen. It was so embarrassing. Now he has to pay a fine, or they’re going to keep him in jail."

Brad shrugged. "Boo-hoo, that’s a real shame. The law’s the law."

"Admit it. You did this, didn’t you?"

He stared at her for a long moment, his lips pressed together as if sealed with Crazy Glue then he finally stood. "Okay. Look, all I did was write down his license plate number when he came to pick you up and maybe—maybe—call it into the station. In my own defense, I had probable cause for suspicion in doing that. But I only thought he had a taillight out."

"A taillight out? You’re trying to ruin my life over a taillight being out?"

"Ruin your life? Ha, that’s a laugh. You should have majored in drama instead of pharmacy. I’m trying to save your life. That guy had no business driving over here to pick you up while there was a warrant out for his arrest. He’s the one who didn’t pay his ticket. As far as I’m concerned, I just did society a favor, too. The mayor may even give me a Good Citizen award."

After one quick prayer for serenity, she flopped down on the couch and covered her eyes with her hands. "I cannot believe this. I wish Mom and Dad were alive, because I would tell on you big time. You’re suffocating me. I can’t take it anymore." She sat up and shook her finger at him like a windshield wiper on the fritz. "You know you’re using your position in law enforcement for nefarious reasons!"

Brad rubbed his hands over his face. "Okay, now listen. You’re going to have to de-crank the drama a notch. You’re acting borderline Desperate Housewives. I just want to make sure you’re dating men who are on the level. Jeez, you’re my little sister. I have to take care of you. It’s what Mom and Dad would have wanted. I was worried about you, Sponge." He stopped for a brief second and with a pained expression mumbled, "I love you."

Her lips broke into a half smile. Saying he loved her and using her adolescent nickname took the heated wind right out from under her. Of course Brad interfered with her life because he loved her. She knew that was the reason deep down inside. And she loved him right back, which it made so much harder to see him wasting all his time still taking care of her. He needed a life.

She deserved a life, too.

"You shouldn’t be running around with losers like that anyway," he told her, interrupting her thoughts.

"That’s the whole point, Brad. I should be the one to find out if he’s a loser or not, not you. I don’t need you interfering with who I want to date, or anything I want to do. I’m a big girl—"she threw back her shoulders "—no, I’m a woman now."

Her brother cringed. "A woman?" He grabbed his can of soda and ran it over his forehead as if he’d just broken into a sweat. "Sheesh, Georgie, you’re talking crazy talk. You’re not a woman, you’re my sister. Did you have anything to drink tonight?"

She shot him a look. "How could I? I never made it to the restaurant, remember?"

"Forgot about that," he said with a smirk. "Well, you’re too young to be seeing guys like Hank anyway. What was he, like thirty-years-old?"

She crossed her arms. "I’m twenty-four."

"Big whoop. That’s not even a quarter of a century old."

"It’s old enough to do anything I want."

"Not old enough to rent a car," he countered.

"Well, I’m old enough to date someone who can." Trying to calm herself down, she sat back and waved her wrist with what she hoped looked like an air of feminine sophistication. "I don’t really care about age anyway. Princess Diana was only nineteen-years-old when she met and married Prince Charles, who was thirty-two."

Brad just rolled his eyes.

Okay, so her brother wasn’t impressed with her knowledge of May-December romances. That was a bad example anyway since it was a marriage—and it had also ended in divorce. If she wanted to have the upper hand for their next weekly fight over her independence, she’d have to Google a better example.

"Look," he said with a sigh, "get your head out of the clouds and step into the real world. Life’s not all about fun and trying to find yourself. You need to start getting your résumés ready and lining up some job offers."

"No I don’t. As soon as I get my pharmacy license, Al said he would hire me right on the spot." She beamed, dusting her hands together in front of her face for emphasis. "I only want to work there, and since I’m his intern, it’ll be a natural transition." Then she could earn some decent money and finally be able to move out on her own. Although she doubted once that happened her problems with her brother’s smothering would be solved. But at least it would be a step in the right direction.

"Yeah well, I have it under good authority that Al’s pharmacy might not being doing as well as you think."

She stared at her brother, hearing her worse fear come out of his mouth. She needed that job so she could move out. Plus, she loved that store. More importantly, she loved the feelings the store evoked in her. When she was growing up, her parents would take her there on Sundays and allow her to pick out any candy treat she wanted, something she’d always looked forward to—mostly because she didn’t have to share the candy with Brad, but also because the decision was always her own. She had treasured that time.

"Wh—what do you mean?" she asked. "We’re fairly busy right now but the summer season hasn’t even begun yet. Wait until all the tourists come to town. The store will be a zoo again."

"Hey, I’m only telling you what Walt told me."

She went very still. "Walt?"

"Yeah, Walt Somers. You remember him, don’t you?"

She looked away and down at her nails. "Um… kind of."

Oh brother. Walt Somers? The one who was her brother’s best friend from grade school? The one who used to live down the street from her family? The same Walt Somers who was, by far, the only proverbial rat she’d ever met in her life?

Yeah. She kind of remembered him.

Growing up, Walt always buzzed around their house, teasing her about her braces, mooching snacks and weaseling invites to dinner by sucking up to her mother. Every time she came home from school, Walt was there. The boy was a menace with a capital M. It was like having another brother—one you weren’t required to donate a kidney to if he needed it. This was lucky for him, because she wouldn’t have wasted one drop of blood on that pain in the neck.

"Ah, come on," her brother said with a grin. "Walt was practically family. Hey, remember when he put sesame seeds in your hair and convinced you that you had head lice?"

She gritted her teeth. "Unfortunately."

To this day, she still couldn’t look at a sesame seed bun in the same way.

"Well, I invited him to stay with us," Brad said, taking a seat on the sofa next to her. "It’ll just be for a little while—until he can find his own place."

A chill ran down her spine, and she bolted upright. "What? Until he can find a place of his own? That could take like… forever. Why can’t he rent a hotel like every other tourist?"

"Because he’s not a tourist and because I invited him. Hey, what’s the matter with you? What’s wrong with Walt? He treated Mom and Dad as if they were his own parents, and he always treated you like a sister, didn’t he?" A teasing grin broke out on his lips as he patted her knee. "Think of it this way, while Walt’s staying with us, you’ll have two big brothers looking out for you."

She swallowed a scream.

Wonderful. Just what she needed now—another big brother. She might as well get out the phone book and start calling the local convents.

On the other hand… bad news for her could mean good news for her brother. Maybe having Walt around would encourage Brad to get out more and stop worrying about her. Walt was an adult now, too. There was no way he could be the same selfish, childish, thought-he-was-too-good-for-the-rest-of-world type of person. Could he? Well, it didn’t matter. If she had to be the adult in this threesome equation, so be it. It would be nice to see Brad relax and have some fun—even at the cost of having someone as annoying as Walt Somers in their home.

With a little luck, Brad might be diverted enough that she’d actually be able to go out on a date in peace and have a little fun herself. Providing she could get another date. She had a feeling her reputation was preceding her.

Georgie looked back at her brother and forced a smile. "You’re right, Brad. I’m sorry. Walt was like family. He was like the brother I never wanted." He shot her a look which made her laugh. "I mean extra brother I never wanted," she corrected, smiling for real this time.

Brad grinned, too, but she could sense he didn’t trust her ready compliance. "Yeah, I thought so. Man, I haven’t seen Walt in ages. It’ll be cool to have us all together again. Look, you’re sure you’re okay with it?"

"Oh, yeah. Who couldn’t use another big brother? I think it’s great that Walt’s staying with us."

Uh-huh. Right.

She was going to hell in a hand basket for that whopper of a lie. The last thing she needed was another big brother hanging around, choking her independence. One brother making her life difficult was plenty, thank you very much. Of course, she’d play the perfect hostess for her brother’s sake. Although, the more accurate response to Brad’s question would’ve been she didn’t mind Walt staying with them as long as Walt stayed far, far away from her.

And her hair.

                            ***

"Did you run into any traffic?"

Walt removed his sunglasses and tucked them in his pocket, giving his uncle a wide smile. "Nope. None at all. I made sure I left early enough. Philadelphia traffic doesn’t start picking up until around six."

"Oh, good. Are you hungry, then?" his uncle asked, pointing to a table on the porch filled with baked goods and a pitcher of iced tea. "Your Aunt Donna made you some of your favorite brownies."

Taking a seat on the chipped rattan rocker, Walt’s gaze roamed the quiet surroundings of his uncle’s property—from the short expanse of flowering shrubs, all the way to peach sand and gray-blue waters of the ocean that bordered his backyard. Even in this late cool morning, several people were walking on the beach without a care in the world.

The pace of Maritime City was sure different from Philadelphia. But the change felt right to him. He needed to come back.

"We’ve missed you," Uncle Al said, pouring each of them some iced tea. "It’s about time you took over the store, and I couldn’t be happier leaving it in your hands while I’m having surgery. You know your father had always hoped to see you run the business while he was still living. He didn’t think you’d ever return once you landed that big city job with that pharmaceutical company. I have to say, I doubted you’d come back, too."

Walt thought about giving up his successful job and also of his recent broken engagement. He was pleased when there was no stab of regret about either of them. "Priorities change, Uncle. I didn’t like the person I was becoming."

He realized he didn’t need a high-powered job in order to be happy. His ex-fiancée was a different story, though. As soon as she found out what he’d planned on doing—quitting his job and moving back home to run his family’s business—she broke off their engagement before he could say "life’s a beach" and took up a relationship with his friend, Chad. Some friend.

Though, thinking about his relationship with Kiera now, he shouldn’t have expected anything different. His own mother had left his father for the same reason.

If he had to share something hereditary, he supposed it was better than male pattern baldness.

His uncle made a face. "You don’t look so different to me. You look as you always do," he said, squinting through the thick lenses of his glasses. "A little taller, maybe."

Walt cracked a smile. "On the inside, Uncle Al. I didn’t like what I was becoming on the inside. I was so busy trying to keep up with other people and being what they wanted me to be I lost track of what really matters in my life. Loyalty to my friends and family. That’s what’s important."

"That’s true. I’m glad you’re not down about your breakup with Kiera. She wasn’t right for you. I could tell that the moment—"

"Tell me about the pharmacy," he said, desperate to change the subject. Sheesh. There was no use analyzing Kiera. It didn’t matter anymore. He doubted the end result would have come out differently if he had been engaged to another woman. "Since you’re not going to be around, I’m going to need some guidance. What do you want me doing while you’re recovering from knee surgery, do you need me to do more managerial things or work the bench, too?"

"Oh." His uncle pushed his dark framed glasses farther up his nose and blinked. "Yes, a little of both, I’m afraid. I’m short for pharmacist help right now, but I do have quite an intern working for me. She’s sharp as a machete. I think you’ll like her. She’s expecting her license soon, so she’s practically running things already. She’ll show you what’s what."

"Do you mean Georgie Mayer?"

"Why yes," his uncle said, his grin widening. "Oh, I forgot you were friends with her brother. Yes, Georgie. She’ll be your right and left hand girl. She’s a doll. I know you two will get along swell."

Walt remembered how easy it was to get little Georgie Mayer all riled up with his teasing when they were younger and had to chuckle. "Well, I hope we do get along swell. I’ll be staying with her and her brother until I can find a place of my own. No sense staying with you guys and giving Aunt Donna more work to do while you’re recovering. Brad’s a great friend for doing this for me. See? That’s what I missed. Loyal friends." He reached for his plate, but there was a sudden gleam in his uncle’s eye, making him draw back and forget the brownie.

"So, you’re staying with Brad and Georgie, huh?" Al asked, beaming. "How wonderful. Spending a little extra time with Georgie outside of work might be just what you need now."

Walt stared at his uncle until it finally hit him. Mixing business with pleasure with little, chubby Georgie Mayer? Yikes. There was a thought he’d rather not ponder.

Ever.

"Uh, no. I don’t think so," he said carefully. "I’m on a bit of a hiatus in the romance department." True. "Besides, I just broke up with Kiera only a few months ago." Also true. "I mean, give a guy a chance to heal his saddle before you start making him get back on the old horse. But thanks for the suggestion. I’ll give it some thought when I’m ready." Okay, not true.

It’s not that he was a shallow man hung up on looks. He wasn’t... exactly. It’s just that Georgie was practically a sister to him.

His uncle’s face crumpled, deepening the creases along his forehead. "That’s too bad. Georgie’s having a hard time finding a nice young man."

Walt could imagine her having problems in that area. The poor kid. From what he’d remembered about little Georgie Mayer, she had short, frizzy orange hair, was pale as a ghost and had braces. A bizarro-world trifecta. He assumed everything but the braces had stayed the same. Nothing against his friend’s sister, but those qualities weren’t exactly what he fantasized about in a woman.

"You know, Walt, I’ll be heading over to the store in a few hours, but if you want to go over to Brad’s and unpack first and get yourself settled, you—"

"That’s okay. I don’t mind going with you now. I can check things out, scope out your store, and you can introduce me to everyone. I might as well jump in with both feet."

Al smiled. "You’re a good man. That would be great. Once you’re acquainted with everything, I’ll feel better leaving you on your own. I really appreciate this, by the way."

"Tell you what, you can show me how much you appreciate it by making a speedy recovery." Then he added with a grin, "Partner."

"I like the sound of that," his uncle said with a chuckle. "I’ll see what I can do. But I’m sure the store will be in good hands. I have a feeling you have a knack with handling problems."

Walt only nodded. Sure, he could handle business problems fine. It was women problems that were an entirely different story. Thank God he didn’t have any of those on the horizon.