Sweet Trilogy: Sweet Talk / Sweet Spot / Sweet Trouble

He nodded.

She didn’t understand. What was the big deal? He’d met someone. That was a good thing. “So ask her out.”

“What?” He straightened and stared at her. “You’re not—” He leaned toward her again. “I didn’t mean I’d met someone I liked. I met someone I didn’t expect to be there.”

“Maybe it’s the surgery and everything, but you’re not making sense.”

“I met Claire.”

Claire who? But even as the question formed, she already had the answer. Claire, her sister. Claire, the perfect one, the princess. The concert pianist and soloist. World traveler. Rich bitch. Her selfish, narcissistic, shallow, cruel, awful sister.

“Not possible,” she murmured as her eyes closed. Sleep would be good, she told herself. She would sleep now and this would all go away.

“Apparently Jesse called and told her about your surgery and she flew in.”

Nicole’s eyes opened. “What?”

“She’s here to help during your recovery.”

If Nicole hadn’t been so uncomfortable and drugged, she would have laughed. “Help? She wants to help? Where the hell has she been for the past twenty-two years? Where was she while I was stuck here, raising Jesse and working in the bakery? Where was she when our mother went off to be with her and then died? Where was she when Dad died? Does she bother to show up even once? I can’t believe it. She needs to leave right now. She needs to get her designer-wearing ass out of my city and back to her cocktail party circuit or wherever it is she spent her—”

Nicole made the mistake of trying to sit up on her own. Pain ripped through her, stealing her breath and making her moan. She sank back into the bed and closed her eyes. Claire here? Because Nicole’s life wasn’t sucky enough already?

“I hate her.”

“I know.” Wyatt squeezed her fingers. “She thinks she’s helping.”

It was too much, Nicole thought. “I can’t deal with her right now. Just keep her away from me. I mean it, Wyatt. Don’t let her come to the hospital.”

“I won’t,” he promised, then kissed her forehead.

He was a good guy, she thought as sleep beckoned. One of the best. Why hadn’t she been smart enough to fall in love with him? Instead she’d fallen for Drew. Talk about a disaster. All of it. And now Claire? What was next? Locusts?

CLAIRE ARRIVED at the hospital in plenty of time to take Nicole home. The previous day she’d made the drive twice so she was familiar with the route. Driving was a little less scary, as well. As long as she stayed off the freeway, she felt almost competent. She’d also talked to Nicole’s nurse, explaining that they were family and that she, Claire, wanted to pick her up. They had given her the approximate time of release. Now Claire was here and ready to help.

She tried not to think too much about Wyatt’s claim that Nicole knew nothing about her visit and wasn’t going to be happy to see her. Despite repeated calls to Jesse’s cell phone, she’d been unable to catch her, nor had Jesse answered any of her messages. Obviously something was going on, but Claire was confident it was little more than a misunderstanding that could be easily cleared up. At least that’s what she told herself every time her stomach flipped over or her chest started to constrict.

She tightened her grip on her handbag as she exited the elevator and started down the long hallway. The signs pointed to the nurses’ station, but before she got there, she saw Nicole in a wheelchair being pushed by a nurse, with Wyatt bringing up the rear.

Emotions flooded Claire, bringing her to a stop as she just stared at the sister she hadn’t seen in years. Nicole looked good, pale, but that made sense. The woman had just had surgery. She wore a zip-up hoodie over a T-shirt, with her hair pulled back in ponytail. Claire instantly felt overdressed.

“Nicole,” she whispered, fierce joy filling her. They were together again. Finally.

“Oh, crap,” Nicole muttered. “Can I get more drugs?”

“Your sister?” the nurse asked. “You look alike. Almost like twins.”

“Fraternal and don’t make a bad situation worse by talking about it,” Nicole said.

Wyatt put his hand on her shoulder. “I’ll take care of this.” He walked to Claire. “What are you doing here? I told you not to come.”

She ignored him and Nicole’s snarky comments, instead rushing forward, then crouching in front of her sister. She wanted to hug her, but was afraid of hurting her. She settled on touching her arm and smiling into her eyes.

“You look great. How do you feel?”

Nicole stared at her. “Like I had an organ ripped out. What are you doing here?”

“I’m taking you home.”

“No, you’re not,” Wyatt said. “That’s why I’m here.”

“What are you doing in Seattle?” Nicole asked. “Please tell me it’s a short visit that ends in an hour.”

“I heard about your surgery, so I flew here to take care of you.”

“That’s so sweet,” the nurse said.

“I don’t need your help,” Nicole said. “Go away.”

Claire was doing her best not to react to all the hostility. She told herself that her sister was in pain, that Wyatt didn’t know her and that a lot of time and bad feelings had come between the Keyes sisters. It was going to take more than a day to heal old wounds.

What she wanted to do was stand up, stomp her foot and point out that she was the wronged party here. That Nicole had turned her back on Claire years ago and refused to reconsider her position. That she’d been blamed for things that had hurt her just as much as them. But there was no point in starting there. She was here for a purpose.

She stood. “I’m not going anywhere. You need me.”

Nicole groaned. “I need a lot of things, but you’re not one of them. Wyatt, did I tell you to shoot me before? Did you listen?”

Wyatt put his hand on her shoulder. “I told you I couldn’t do that.”

“All men are useless,” Nicole muttered, then looked back at Claire. “You want to get up so I can get out of here? I hurt, I’m tired and I just want to go home.”

“My car is right out front,” Claire told her. “I know the way. I practiced the drive.”

“We’re all so proud.”

The nurse gave Claire a sympathetic smile, then pushed her patient toward the elevators. Claire trailed after them, not sure what to say or do. She couldn’t force Nicole into her car. Maybe it would be better to let Wyatt deal with getting Nicole to the house and Claire could take over from there.

Still, it hurt to be rejected and ignored. She’d hoped things would be different.

“I’ll change them,” she told herself as they walked out into the cool, spring morning.

There was a large truck parked in front of the entrance. Wyatt opened the passenger door, then lifted Nicole inside and put her on the seat.

Claire watched, aching at the sight of the tenderness and care Wyatt displayed. She wanted a little of that for herself. Not from Wyatt, but from someone. She wanted a man to care about her, worry about her. She wanted friends and family. She wanted a life.

Which was mostly what she’d come home to find.

CHAPTER THREE