Page 40 of Hard Rock Heat

"You and Damon," she said, a twinkle in hereyes.

"What about us?" I asked. "We're working together. That'sall."

"It's more than that," she said. "There's something going on between youtwo."

"Sure there is," I said, pretending to fix the lid on my cup to avoid her eyes. "Animosity andhostility."

She shook her head. "There's more to it. He's been snippy and moping and being a general drag lately. He's always asking about you and you're always asking abouthim."

"I'm not always—!" I began to protest. "It was just theonce—"

"Faith." Hope stopped me with one of those looks she often gave people. That searching, probing look that told me she was trying to dissect me from the insideout.

"He's been hitting on me since day one," I said, feigning a casual shrug. "I keep on shutting him down. He'll give upeventually."

"Do you want him to?" she asked, eyes oddlypenetrating.

I nearly choked on my tongue as a dozen different replies popped into my head. I pressed my lips firmly together, trying to straighten out my thoughts into a coherentanswer.

"He's practically your brother-in-law," I said, deciding to deflect instead. "You know what he'slike."

Hope examined me. "I've never seen him so fixated on one girl for this longbefore."

"No girl has ever made it this hard on him," I told her. "I'm a challenge. It's a game to him. Everything is. I'm not going to let himwin."

"It's not about winning or losing," she said. "It's about two people who are attracted to each other. Two people who might be developing feelings for oneanother."

"The only feeling I have concerning Damon is acuteloathing."

Hope stared at me, before quirking a small smile. "Is thatall?"

"Yes," I insisted. "He's always saying things to piss me off. Gross stuff about his sex life and making comments about my body and calling me a workaholic likeDad—"

I cut myself off as pain flashed across Hope'sface.

I hadn't wanted to mention Dad. I hated seeing Hope get hurt, and any mention of him usually did thetrick.

"You're nothing like our father," my sister said quietly, looking down at her owncoffee.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to bring up…" I trailedoff.

The two of us sat in awkwardsilence.

"I haven't heard from him in months," Hope spoke up, still not looking at me. "I don't think he even knows about me andIan."

"He does. I toldhim."

She looked at me, a flicker of something like dread in her eyes. "Did he sayanything?"

"He's happy for you," I lied. "He talked about all of us getting together for a dinner some time soon. He wants to meet the man who's making you sohappy."

A small hopeful look crossed my sister's face. "Really?"

I winced internally. I shouldn't have lied. It would just make finding out the truth that much worse. She still didn't know how bad it was. Didn't know how sick he was. She thought he was still the same workaholic he'd been during ouryouth.

If she knew how far he'd fallen… if she knew how much care he needed… She'd want to help out. She would insist. I couldn't let that happen. Hope didn't need to face our father's indifference. Didn't need to be reminded of how much he resentedus.

I'd just have to make sure Hope never foundout.