With a sigh, she gathered her laundry, telling herself she didn’t care that she didn’t have a damn Christmas tree or some stupid decorations, and she sure as hell didn’t care that she didn’t have a soul mate, because if she had, then she might be doing laundry for two right now and that would suck.

Besides, she didn’t even know if she believed in soul mates. The idea of it, that there was one person in all the persons of the world, one, that was meant for her, seemed crazy. With those odds, it was no wonder that she’d decided not to look.

And yet…and yet a small part of her thought maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to be doing two loads of laundry instead of one, if she had company while she was doing them. She dumped the first load into her washing machine, and, hearing the crinkle of paper, stuck her hands into her pockets. It was the red envelope, the one that had cost her twenty-five bucks on a whim.

For charity. There. See? She’d made a contribution to Christmas, and somehow, ridiculously, the thought cheered her slightly. Until she opened the envelope and remembered what her twenty-five bucks had gotten her.

That one-night romantic getaway. She and Dustin could have rocked that one night.

She should just throw the card away and chalk it up as a tax write-off. There was no reason even to keep it around…

But as she passed the trash can, she slipped the card back into her pocket instead.

DUSTIN WALKED IN the front door of his house and found his brother slouched on his couch, feet up, remote in hand, game on the television, as if he lived there.

Jason nodded a greeting, taking a few seconds to tear his gaze off the game, but once he did, he blinked at Dustin’s disheveled appearance. “Either you got your ass kicked by the job, or you just got laid.”

Dustin kicked off his shoes and dropped his keys and wallet, then sank to the couch next to his brother, whom he was damn happy to see. “You got off on leave a few days early.”

“Yeah.” Jason wasn’t in his National Guard uniform, but wearing jeans and a vintage Van Halen T-shirt. “Thought I’d hang here, and we’d go up to Mom’s for Christmas Eve together. Nice change of subject, by the way.”

“I haven’t seen you in six months, you don’t want to talk about my job.”

“Okay, let’s talk about you getting laid.”

Dustin rolled his eyes and leaned in to hug his brother, who met him halfway and pulled him in tight. “Missed your ugly mug a little.”

“Same goes, bro. Same goes.” Jason offered him a soda and the chips, both of which had come from Dustin’s stash. “The house is coming along.”

Dustin looked around him. They’d bought it together several years back, right before Jason had reenlisted in the National Guard. It was an investment over and above their usual renovation projects, and as a major fixer-upper, the investment part had been mostly faith.

But with Jason’s down payment and Dustin’s physical labor, the place really was coming along. They could sell, put the profits into another house and start over again. Their sister wanted them to do that and hire her part-time as a cash laborer, which would be both a blessing since she was a hard worker, and a damned headache because she was also a pain in the ass.

But it would be a nice transition out of his job, which Dustin had been restless at for far too long now.

“Shelly called me,” Jason said, reading his mind about their baby sister. “She’s seeing some guy named Chewy. I told her I was going to have to kick his ass for no reason other than he lets people call him Chewy.”

Dustin laughed. “He’s all right. And they’re not serious.”

“You checked him out?”

“Yeah. He’s in college like she is, and a good kid, despite the unfortunate name.”

“All right then.” Jason stared at the game. Drank. Ate a few chips.

Dustin looked him over. Still the same dark hair, cut militarily short, and light gray eyes which could warm with a quick laugh or turn to steel. Jason had always been a big guy, nearly six foot four, and beefy, like the football player he’d once been, but over the past years in the military, he’d honed his body into a much rangier form, looking more like a lean boxer now than a high-school football star. Their mom had been worried about him ever since he’d gotten back from being in the South, working in and near New Orleans on clean-up and rebuilding, going out on search-and-rescue calls as his orders dictated. And indeed, as their mom had said, there was something different about Jason, something less easily accessible and definitely introspective.

“You could take a picture, it lasts longer.”

Dustin didn’t rise to the bait. “I’m just wondering if you’re okay.”

“Ah, and here I thought I looked so pretty today.”

“Seriously, Jase.”

“Seriously?” Jason set down his soda and hit Mute on the game, turning to face him. “Seriously, I was going to ask you the same thing. You look like shit. What’s up?”

“I asked you first.”

“Okay, what’s wrong with me is that the big bad world out there sucks right now.” Jason lifted a shoulder. “I work my ass off to do my part to fix it, but I can’t, and if I think about it too much it seems stupid even to be trying, so I am not going to think about it. Not for at least the next two weeks before I have to head out again. Now you.”

“Me what?”

“You might as well tell me before I knock it out of you.”

Given Jason’s new physical prowess, he could do it, too.

“Is it the job putting that look of misery on your face. Or a girl?”

Dustin let out a breath. “Both.”

“So there is a girl.”

“I don’t think so, no.”

Jason blinked. “A guy?”

“Jesus!”

“Well, use your words, dude.”

Dustin rolled his eyes and ate some more chips.

“Come on, Dus. You’re the middle child. You’re the talker.”

“Fine.” Dustin pushed the chips aside. “I’m in a job that was supposed to be just a phase, a little fun before we got our renovation business going.”

“Don’t look now, but our renovation business is going. We’ve got good equity in this place.”

“Sort of my point. We could be doing more and yet here I am, still driving an ambulance…”

“So quit and get a move on. I’m game. Let’s sell the house. We can use my portion of the profit for a new down payment on another fixer-upper, and your labor. And I say we go big this time and do it right. Bigger house, bigger profit margin. If you’re serious about being done as an EMT, you’d have the time to put in.”

True.

“So…the girl,” Jason said, leaning back to close his eyes. “Get to the girl.”

Right. The girl. How to say that he was more than halfway in love with a woman who wasn’t ever going to love him back? “She’s a coworker, which is colossally stupid.”

“Only if you intend to repeat.”

“Last night was a repeat.”

At this, Jason opened his eyes and turned his head to eyeball Dustin. “Is it that firefighter chick you’ve been hung up on since day one? The hot one who looks like…what do they call her? Kick-Ass Barbie. Cathleen?”

“Cristina.”

“Ah, Christ,” Jason said with a groan. “It is. Man, you’re going straight down the path to Heartbreak City with that one. She’s out of your league.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Look, life’s too short to get kicked in the balls or the heart, and with Cristina, you’ll get both.”

DUSTIN DIDN’T REALIZE exactly how true that statement was until his next shift. He got to the station, and found Cristina in the kitchen with everyone else. She was doing her usual dig through the refrigerator-she was the most notorious food thief in the entire station. “You stealing someone’s lunch again?” he asked lightly, as if she hadn’t dumped him.

Well, actually, you had to have a relationship with someone to be dumped. They didn’t have a relationship, they had a thing. A sex thing. That was all.