“Is that so?” I challenge but I’m afraid he might be right.

“Whatever happened to my brother who moved out West, wanting to invest his money and make a name for himself, step out from under our parent’s shadow?”

“I’m still him, you half-wit,” I tell him, hating that he’s got the power to get under my skin sometimes. It doesn’t help that both of us can bring the other down with the mere mention of our mum and dad. “There’s nothing wrong with trying to be a good Samaritan. You were the one always harping on me about being a selfish lout, doing nothing with myself. Now I am doing something and one of those things happens to be a good deed.”

“Oh, there’s nothing wrong with the deed. I want Nicola helped out as much as the next person, especially for Steph’s sake. Those two are pretty close, even more so since we got hitched. I guess having babies or getting married brings you into the next step of the maturity club. But you can’t pretend you don’t have ulterior motives.” He jabs his finger in my face. “You can’t pass this all like you’re interested in charity. You’re losing money here, brother.”

The funny thing is I am interested in charity but there’s no use in telling my brother that. He doesn’t listen to me anyway. No matter how much you change, some people will always view you as you were at a certain time of your life. I don’t think Linden will ever stop thinking of me as the philandering git he knew growing up. I don’t think I’ll ever stop thinking of him as the annoying little shit who used to steal my stuff, the same one I used to give atomic wedgies to in the playground. And no matter how much our mother tries to cut down on her drinking and the icy shell of her exterior, no matter how hard our father pretends to be proud of us, we can’t help but view them as themselves when we were most vulnerable.

“Be that as it may,” I try and explain. I sigh. It’s hopeless. “She’s got a nice rack.” I give up and drink my burning elixir.

But Linden is watching me closely. “Is that all?”

I nod and start to cough. He slides his water over and I gulp half of it down. “Thanks,” I say, wiping my lips with the bar napkin. “And yes, that’s all. Would you expect anything more from me?”

“I guess not,” he says. He twists around in his stool and nods at the front door. “Hey, check it.”

I glance over my shoulder. A stunning blonde with arse-length hair and a glossy smile comes in the door. She’s dressed to impress in a gold strapless top that shows off just enough cleavage and tight-as-fuck jeans.

“She looks like your type,” Linden says.

“Are you trying to distract me?” I ask him wryly.

His eyes turn serious. “I told you before, Nicola is a no-go for you. Steph will absolutely murder me if you two hook-up. I will never hear the end of it and she’ll go on and on about ruining our dynamics. It’s always about the dynamics. She keeps quoting Friends, when Ross and Rachel broke up and changed everything for everyone else. Drives me bloody bonkers.”

“I am not bloody Ross,” I tell him defensively. “Joey, maybe.”

“Fine, but you get what I mean. She’s concerned about everyone being nice and getting along and you know if you shag Nicola, that’s just going to end poorly. Not only for her, but for yourself. How charitable are you going to be when she sets your whole apartment building on fire, huh?”

I can’t help but smile. “You think I’d affect her that badly, huh?”

“Oh, you’re useless,” Linden says and snaps his fingers for James. “Barkeep, I need another one.”

I sit there with Linden, shooting the shit for a wee bit, until Nicola comes on down the bar to us.

“Brave enough for another one?” she asks. Do my ears detect a flirty tone?

I can feel Linden get up from beside me, which brings me an ounce of relief. Last thing I want is for him to watch over everything I say to her.

“If you’re serving, I’m drinking,” I tell her with a wink. “It was…Bramtastic.”

Her eyes seek the ceiling.

“You are unbelievable,” she says. “Maybe I’ll add less sweet this time, though I swear I didn’t add any cheese.”

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

She sighs and starts to make the drink. I make a mental note of the ingredients – Patrón tequila, lime juice, triple sec, hot pepper infused liqueur, a splash of orange juice and a wee hit of the brine from a jar of pickled banana peppers. Ah, so that was the secret ingredient.

While she’s piling up the garnishes on the end of a cocktail sword, she shoots me a look I haven’t seen before, not on her face anyway. It’s sort of pleading and puppy dog-ish. I like it. It makes me feel like she wants something from me for once instead of me always trying to give her something.

“So,” she says, her voice unsure. She hands me the drink. “So,” she starts again, “this drink is on the house.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I need a favor.”

My eyes widen. “You? You’re asking for a favor? From me?”

She seems to shut down before me. I quickly reach out and put my hand on hers, giving her soft skin a squeeze. She feels absolutely radiant to touch and I don’t want to let go.

But she’s staring at my hand like it doesn’t belong there. I remove it but lean forward to meet her eyes. “Sorry,” I say to her, “I didn’t mean to tease. What’s the favor? You know I’d do anything for you.”

Arse. That was not what was supposed to come out of my mouth. But I just smile at her, keeping it cool.

“Well,” she says, looking at the counter, “I was wondering tomorrow, if you’re not busy, if you wouldn’t mind taking me and Ava to IKEA.” She eyes me and quickly continues. It looks like just asking is bringing her pain. “I wouldn’t be long. I just need a new couch and I don’t think I can take the bus with it. I mean, I can try but—”

“I’d be happy to,” I tell her emphatically. “It’s not a problem at all. What time would you like to go?” I don’t bother pointing out that the Mercedes isn’t exactly big enough for a couch, even if it is disassembled into small, aggravating boxes but I figure I can always swap my car for Linden’s Jeep if need be.

Her features relax and she manages a smile. “You really wouldn’t mind? I don’t know, whenever works for you. I’m not working so…”

Everyone knows that Sundays at IKEA are a living nightmare so I suggest we get there as soon as they open and beat the crowds. She agrees and there’s a rare tickle in my stomach. I think I want to drown it with my drink.

I’m still smiling at her when Linden taps me on the shoulder.

“Bram,” he says as I turn around. That blonde with the gold top is standing behind me with him, looking at me expectantly. “This is Paige.”

What the hell is my brother doing? I’ve never known him to try and set me up before. He knows I don’t fucking need it.

“Hello, Paige,” I say to her with a polite bow of my head, because I’m anything if not fucking polite.

“I was just talking you up to her,” Linden goes on but I’m looking back at the bar. My drink is on the counter and Nicola is way down near the other end, serving other customers. Bollocks. Linden sure fucked up that one for me. But still. IKEA is on.

I pick up the drink and take a sip – damn, that’s even hotter than before – and with an internal sigh, turn around to face them. Well, since the blonde is in front of me and she looks just as agreeable as she did earlier, I guess I don’t really have anything to lose.

“You oughta try this, Paige,” I tell her, offering her the drink. “I dare you.”

“Okay,” she says, still smiling but sounding a bit nervous.

“Here, I’ll drink it first,” I tell her, having another sip and trying to hide the burn from showing on my face. “Sweetheart, I don’t need to put roofies in your drink in order to have sex with you.”

“Okaaaay,” Linden says slowly. “I’m going to go now.”

He heads to the washroom and I nod at his empty seat.