Running a little late. Five minutes.

He took a minute for himself before putting the Jeep into park. He waved at the doorman. “Just picking Lori up.”

The guy waved him on.

A wave to the desk, a smile to the security guard, and he was in the elevator.

He knocked twice before Danny answered. “Hey, Reed. She’s getting ready.”

The keys in his hand dangled on his thumb. “Thanks.” He smiled, looked around the room.

“We won’t be back tonight,” Reed informed him.

“Yeah, Lori told me.”

Reed nodded. What was taking her so long?

“Want something to drink?”

“I’m good.” He wasn’t good, he was anxious, edgy.

“Danny?” Lori walked into the room wearing jeans and a snug T-shirt.

Hot . . . she was so fucking hot. Had he ever seen her in denim? He didn’t think so.

“Hey.” She snuck up on him while his brain was processing her ass in jeans and kissed him quickly. “I could have met you downstairs.”

“That wasn’t how I was raised.”

She walked back toward her room. “Just need to grab my bag.”

Did those hips swing as she walked away?

Damn, he was in trouble.

Danny slapped his arm. “Hey, that’s my sister.”

Reed turned toward him, arms at his side. “You might as well deck me now.”

Lori’s brother burst out laughing.

“No, really.”

The laughter grew until Lori walked back into the room. “Did I miss something?”

Danny grabbed his sister’s suitcase, shoved it in Reed’s hand. “Go, kids. Have a good time . . . and remember”—he waved a hand in the air between the two of them—“use those condoms. Safe sex is the only sex to have.”

Lori walked out the door first.

Before Danny shut the door, Reed turned. “Seriously, dude. One free punch, anytime.”

Instead of a fist, Danny slammed the door in his face; laughter followed them down the hall.

The hotel was on the coast in Santa Barbara, just a couple of hours north. The longer they drove, the more the muscles in her back started to relax. “I love the city,” she said out of nowhere. “But I need to escape it a couple times a month or I go crazy.”

“Have you ever considered moving?”

Had she? Not really. “It fits my lifestyle right now.”

“Santa Monica is a little of both. Just city enough, with an ocean to calm your nerves when you need to just look at nothing.”

“So why Santa Barbara? Why not just take me to your place?”

“I’m a slob.”

“You are not.”

“I am. Never make my bed, don’t have a maid.”

Okay, she did have a maid service. But in her defense, she was almost never home, and when she was, the last thing she wanted to do was push a vacuum.

“My bathroom is never a mess after you leave, and you don’t leave the seat up.”

“My mother and sisters drilled that in.”

“Good for them. Danny is awful.”

Reed glanced at her, returned his eyes to the road up the coast. “I’m glad he stuck around.”

“He’s annoying.”

“You love it.”

“I’m tolerating it. He needs to move on soon or we’re going to be at each other’s throats. I don’t like being in the position of judging his lifestyle.”

“Then don’t.”

“If he wasn’t living with me, I wouldn’t. But when you’re faced with a dreamer, day in and day out, when you’ve somehow been delivered the practical gene, it’s not possible.”

“Your brother is a good guy.”

“I couldn’t agree more. He wouldn’t hurt a flea if he knew it was in pain. He opens doors for women, says thank you to the waiter . . . and tells old women how beautiful they are.”

“Sounds perfect.” Reed’s voice held a slight edge.

“He isn’t employed, Reed, a nonstarter. His idea of the future is whether he can afford the tacos at the local shack or the one-buck menu at McDonald’s. It was cute in college, which, by the way, he has been to and graduated with a freakin’ degree in engineering. But no, that was a way to get through school. I swear he grew up in the wrong era. Should have been a hippie in the sixties.”

“Does he do drugs?”

“A little pot, I think. Not that often. At least not since he’s been in LA.”

Reed bobbed his head as he changed lanes to get around a slow-moving car. “I get it. You’re good for him.”

“How so?”

“Look at you. Successful, driven, you have your life together . . . friends to anchor you. Keep showing him that happiness and he might want it for himself.”

She hadn’t thought about it that way. “He does seem a little different this time.”

“This time?”

“He shows up every couple of years for a few weeks . . . flitters in the guest room, on the couch . . . then leaves with a note saying he’ll see me for turkey. Not this time.”

“Because he hasn’t left?”

“Because I don’t think he’s sticking around waiting for the next great whatever to pull him away.” And it wasn’t like he was asking her for money or anything. He just stuck around. Yeah, he ate her food, but it wasn’t like a teenage kid that left the cupboard with nothing but crumbs.

“He’s sticking around because he cares, Lori.”

She wanted to blow him off.

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“That he cares? He’s my brother, he’s prewired to care.”

“Yeah, but this is beyond a family obligation. This is when it counts.”

Her vision tunneled when she turned her eyes on him.

“Are you going to jump on the you need a bodyguard bandwagon again?”

“You do.”

“Let’s change the subject . . . oh, I have one. Have you ever used a dating app?”

“No.” His answer was too quick.

“Yes, you have.”

Reed didn’t meet her gaze.

“There is nothing to be embarrassed about. Lots of people use them.”

“A friend of mine asked me to sign up to see if his girlfriend was cheating on him.”

“Was she?”

“Yes.”

She paused. “What did he do?”

“He dumped her.”

“While you were on the app, did you go out with anyone on it?”

“Lori?”

“Yeah?”

“You need a bodyguard.”

She groaned and pointed out the window. “Oh, look . . . a unicorn.”

Early fall in Santa Barbara had some of the best weather in the country. Not only was it still warm during the days, but the nights didn’t get the memo that fall was descending upon them.

The resort hotel Reed arranged had every amenity a couple seeking an evening away from home could want. An open-air lobby greeted them with massive circular tables with floral arrangements that towered five feet. The warm breeze off the Pacific and fresh scent of the ocean calmed Lori’s nerves after the drive.

They walked through manicured gardens and meandering pathways flanked by palm trees and lush green shrubs and the ever-prevalent bougainvillea until they arrived at their oceanfront suite. They walked through Spanish-influenced arched stucco columns and heavy wooden doors into luxury.

“This is stunning,” Lori exclaimed as she dropped her purse on the bed and crossed to the French doors that opened onto a balcony. Once outside, she rested her hands on the railing, closed her eyes, and let the sun drench her face.

Behind her, Reed dealt with the bellman who helped them with their bags.

Reed moved behind her, circled his arms around her waist, and rested his head on her shoulder. “I don’t think I’ll ever look at the water again and not think of you,” he confessed.

Her insides did one of those girlie things that happened when someone you cared about took your relationship to another level with just a few words.

“Me either.”

His chest rose and fell on her back. “Sometimes I wish we could just stop everything going on around us for a moment in time.”

“Like now?” she asked.

“Yeah, like this exact moment.”

Only he didn’t pause, and the clock kept ticking. “Pool, beach, spa? What is your pleasure, Counselor?”

“How about some pool time overlooking the ocean?”

“Perfect, all the love of the ocean without the sand.” He kissed the side of her head and moved back into the room.

She watched him walk away. Something was bothering him that he wasn’t talking about. By the end of their stay, she would flat-out ask him if he didn’t fess up.

They swam, soaked up the sun, had a couple of umbrella filled froufrou drinks, and even managed to talk politics without so much as a cross word. They took their time showering together, concentrating on all the good parts.

By the time they sat down to dinner at the five-star restaurant the resort offered, Lori felt as if she’d been there for a couple of days instead of a handful of hours. “I really needed this,” she said for the hundredth time since they arrived.