Chapter 8: One Rule

I came down the stairs in Tiernan's shirt with my jeans in my hand.

That is how I found out how many people can stand on one porch.

The answer was six.

Dean sat on the top step.

The surgeon leaned on the railing with his arms folded.

The firefighter stood in the yard, and the youngest sat on the hood of a pickup eating a granola bar.

The boxer stood a foot from Tiernan, rolling his neck from side to side.

"Lexi," Dean said, without turning around.

"Good morning. Nice shirt."

"It's not what it looks like," I said.

"It's exactly what it looks like," the youngest said cheerfully.

"I'm not mad, I'm just delighted."

Tiernan had not moved.

He stood barefoot on his own porch in last night's trousers, with a brother on every side.

He looked at Dean as if he was waiting for a verdict.

"Mr. Kinsella," he said.

"I owe you an explanation."

"You owe me the truth," Dean said.

He held up the paper.

"This is a thirteenth offer on my father's company, with your name on it. Last night you took my sister to bed."

"Yes," Tiernan said.

I opened my mouth.

"Lexi, hold on," Dean said.

"I'd like to hear him say it."

"I did not know who she was when I signed this," Tiernan said, evenly.

"I knew it the moment I saw her on your porch.

I should have said so on Friday.

I didn't, because I didn't want her to think I was there for the company."

"Hm," the surgeon said.

The boxer cracked his knuckles.

"I'm going to hit you," he said, conversationally.

"Probably," Tiernan said.

"I won't duck."

"Why not?"

"Because I'd do the same," Tiernan said, "if it were my sister."

The boxer stared at him.

Then he threw a punch, a short hard right, and it landed on Tiernan's jaw with a crack I felt in my own teeth.

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