Before Lori could figure out what to say, the doorbell rang.

"Your young man," Madeline teased.

Lori glared at her. "Don't make me kill you. I'm more than capable."

"Cheap talk."

Lori huffed out a breath, then stalked to the front door and pulled it open.

Any ideas she had for a clever greeting flew out of her head when she saw Reid standing on her tiny porch, smiling at her.

The overhead light illuminated his handsome face. His leather jacket emphasized his broad shoulders and narrow hips. He looked sexy, masculine and as out of reach as the moons of Saturn.

"Hi," he said and thrust a paper-wrapped spray of flowers at her. "I was going to bring wine, but I went on the Internet and it said someone with your sister's disease shouldn't drink."

She stared from him to the beautiful flowers. "So these are for Madeline?"

"What? No. They're for you. These are, too." He handed her a box from Oh! Chocolates.

Okay, now she was confused. He'd brought her flowers and chocolates? Her?

"Come in," she said, stepping back.

"Thanks."

He stepped into the house, turned and kissed her.

Just like that. A quick brush of mouth on mouth, then he was shrugging out of his jacket and looking around.

"Nice place," he said.

Lori couldn't move. She also couldn't think or breathe or very possibly stay alive much longer.

He'd kissed her. Kissed her. As if…As if…Damn, she didn't know as if what, but it was weird. They didn't kiss. Well, there had been that one time, but since then, nothing. They weren't dating. This wasn't a date. Did he think this was a date?

Before she could begin to function again, Madeline walked in the room.

"You must be Reid," she said, crossing the room looking tall and beautiful and oh so delicate. "I'm Madeline."

"Hi. Nice to meet you."

They shook hands.

Lori braced herself for the lightning strike. Oddly, Reid looked away from her sister.

"I was telling Lori this place is really nice," he said.

"Isn't it?" Madeline smiled. "Lori and I grew up pretty poor. We lived in a double-wide until we moved out. We both vowed to have a real home of our own. I wanted a trendy high-rise condo, but Lori always said she wanted a house where she could own the ground it stood on."

Lori cringed in embarrassment, but Reid nodded. "Makes sense." Then he actually turned his back on Madeline and looked at her. "You'd hate my place. I live on a houseboat. No land at all."

She didn't know what to say or how to respond. He was talking to her. Her and not Madeline. How was that possible?

"I, ah…" She began and then pressed her lips together. "The, ah, houseboat sounds very nice. Everyone loves being on the water, right?"

He grinned. "Liar."

She blinked. Was he teasing her?

Life was suddenly very confusing. She glanced down at the flowers.

"I should get these in water," she said and ducked into the kitchen. Maybe if she left Reid and Madeline alone the sparks would fly. Only he followed her and watched as she tried to reach a vase on a high shelf and then gently pushed her aside to grab it himself when she couldn't stretch that far.

"Zeke and I have been talking," he said as he handed over the glass. "About ways to salvage my reputation."

"Who's Zeke?" she asked.

"My accountant. I fired Seth- he handled things like bookings and endorsements, and there aren't going to be any of those anymore. So we talked about what I could do to improve my image. He mentioned a big benefit. What do you think?"

She filled the vase with flowers and set them into the container. As she had no knack for arranging, she was officially out of ways to occupy herself. She turned to him.

"It's a gesture," she said. "Don't you think people are going to see it as such? You need to do something more. Something with a little staying power."

As soon as the words were out, she wanted to call them back. Or disappear into the floor.

Staying power? Why those particular words? They were too close to what that reporter had said about Reid in that awful article.

"What I meant…" she began, only to have him grin at her.

"I know what you meant. Something more significant."

"Right."

"You weren't talking about my ability to- "

"Not at all," she said quickly. "I'm sure that's…"

He waited, his eyebrows raised.

"Fine," she mumbled.

"Better than fine."

"Right. Spectacular."

He grinned. "Exactly."


* * *

"I LOVE EVERYTHING about this house except the lack of a dishwasher," Madeline said when they'd finished dinner and cleared the table. She'd sent Lori off to rest and Reid had offered to help with the cleanup.

"It's original," Madeline continued. "Very forties. She bought that old stove from a place that restores them. She'll let me keep a microwave on the counter, but heaven forbid one of the precious cabinets be taken out to make room for a dishwasher."

He looked around at the brightly colored kitchen. The walls were yellow, the cabinets white, the tiles red and white with splashes of yellow.

"This suits her," he said.

"I agree."

He reached for a dish cloth and grabbed the first plate she put in the rack. "I thought you'd look different."

"Sick, you mean?" she asked.

"Something like that."

"That will come. Right now most of the symptoms aren't visible. I have some bruising on my torso- a sign that my liver isn't working well. I'll look worse as the disease progresses."

"Should I not be asking about this?"

"I don't mind talking about it," she told him. "It's a part of my life now."

And her death. He'd never known anyone who was dying before. Gloria was old and had come close to death, but this was different. Madeline was still in her early thirties.

"You seem calm," he said.

"Some days."

"I don't think I'd be calm."

She smiled. "You never know what you're capable of until it happens. I was in shock and didn't know what to do. Lori handled pretty much everything. She came to the doctor with me, asked all the right questions. My husband left and she's the one who bullied the attorney to make sure I didn't get screwed."

"He left because of you getting sick?"

"Oh, yeah. It was charming."

"I'm sorry," Reid said, feeling awkward.

"Me, too. At least we didn't have kids. Leaving me when things got tough was bad enough, but leaving them…" She rinsed a glass. "Okay, this is officially time to change the subject. Let's talk about something happy."

Just then Lori stepped into the kitchen. "I can help," she said.

Madeline sighed. "No, you can't. You cooked dinner. We're cleaning up. Go rest."

"I'm not tired."

"Then watch TV. Read a book. Contemplate the ever expanding universe."

"I'm going," Lori muttered and left.

Reid stared after her. "She's acting weird, even for her."

Madeline smiled as if she knew a secret. "It will pass." She rinsed another plate and handed it to him. "Lori is really special."

"I agree."

"I wouldn't want to see her get hurt."

Okay, so he wasn't as quick on the uptake as he could have been. Madeline wasn't making conversation. She was probing and warning.

Normally that sort of thing made him want to run into the night, but now he found himself willing to have the conversation. Why was that?

He supposed some of it was that he liked Lori. He liked talking with her, annoying her, even kissing her. The kissing had been really good. Better than good. Under other circumstances he would have taken things further.

Need filled him. It had been a hell of a long time since he'd gotten laid. Under the circumstances, it was going to be a while longer. After that damn article, he wasn't exactly eager to be with anyone. Not when he knew what the woman in question would be thinking. But Lori was different. She was…

He became aware of Madeline staring at him.

"Sorry," he said. "What was the question?"

"I didn't ask one."

"Right. You were going to warn me to stay away from Lori."

"Now why would I do a thing like that?" She began rinsing flatware. "I'm the oldest. It wasn't easy for Lori when we were kids. I was smarter, prettier, more popular." She paused and wrinkled her nose. "Gee, that makes me sound like an egotistical bitch. But it's true. Mom was drunk all the time, Dad was gone. He ran off while she was pregnant with Lori. We didn't have any money and it was hard. Add to that the fact that Lori grew up in my shadow. It's no surprise that she can't decide if she loves me or hates me."

Reid stared at her. "Lori doesn't hate you."

"I know. That's what's so great about her. She could and no one would blame her. Least of all me. But she doesn't. She invited me to come live with her as soon as she found out about my disease. When I hesitated, she physically packed all my stuff herself and hired the movers. She's my rock."

She reached for a pot. "This has got to be so hard on her. I'm the reason her childhood sucked, she loves me more than anyone in the world and I'm dying. How on earth is she supposed to reconcile that?"

Reid didn't know what to do with all the information Madeline had dumped on him, but he didn't doubt it was true. He could feel it in his gut.

"How did you figure all this out?" he asked. "Lori didn't tell you."

"Of course not. She wouldn't want to burden me with what she wrestles with. But I watch and listen. She's so much more than she believes she can be."

"I know."

She looked at him. "I thought you might. So what are you going to do about her?"

"I have no idea."

Lori wasn't his type. She wasn't the kind of woman to enjoy a hot night and move on. He wasn't good for anything else. Which meant avoiding her was the best solution for both of them.