My Kind of Christmas

well right now, but it’s been brutal. So I’m going to see Marie. Besides, if it wasn’t for the crash, I’d be at sea over Christmas, anyway, and you’d never think twice about me missing it.”
    “You seem a little better,” Colin observed.
    “I said this was a good idea. I had to get the hell away from that boatyard. A little distance, you know? I remember when the smell of jet fuel got my heart pumping and all of a sudden…” He shook his head. “Probably just some PTSD.”
    “Even after my Black Hawk went down, I was ready to climb right back into one,” Colin said.
    “Yeah, because it was yours, not one of your boys. That changes everything. But I’m working through it.”
    While Patrick talked, Luke spread out bread and dealt cold cuts and cheese onto the slices. He slathered them with mayo and mustard, then sliced a tomato. The tomato slices went on two of the four sandwiches, lettuce on all four.
    “Missed a couple,” Patrick told Luke.
    “I don’t want tomato. That’s Colin’s—since his woman grows ’em, he has to eat ’em.”
    Patrick couldn’t help it, he laughed. “You two,” he said. “For about forty years we couldn’t keep you two from fighting, day and night, and now look at you. Like two little old ladies taking care of each other. You’re totally mellowed. It’s the girls, that’s what it is.”
    “Probably,” Colin said. “For me there were a lot of factors, but I’ll be the first to admit Jilly is the best of all those things. She just has this calming effect on me.”
    “How much older are you than Jillian?” Patrick asked.
    Colin shrugged. “Eight years or so, I guess. Luke’s the one who robbed the cradle.”
    Luke took a huge bite of his sandwich, chewed, swallowed and said, “I’ve got almost fourteen years on Shelby, the crazy little witch. Young is good, trust me.”
    Patrick leaned toward him. “Don’t you feel just a little bit like a dirty old man?”
    Sound and movement stopped so suddenly, it was almost surreal. Only eyeballs shifted between Colin and Luke. Luke slowly put down his sandwich. “Shit,” he said. “You did it. You and the little one, Jack’s niece. You did the nasty.”
    “What are you talking about?” Patrick said indignantly.
    Colin put down his sandwich. “Yep. Not DeMille’s books relaxing you, Paddy. Something else altogether. Someone else. Aw, man. You had to go for the mayor’s niece?”
    “Mayor?” he asked. Patrick stood up from his stool, yet Luke and Colin finally sat down on theirs. The older brothers looked a little weary. “There’s no mayor here!”
    “Okay, the king, then. Jack’s pretty much running this town. Don’t tell him that, though. He seems oblivious,” Colin said. “What he’s not oblivious to is his niece. He’s been clear—he doesn’t want her mixed up with any Riordan hooligan.”
    “It was consensual,” Paddy said before he realized how awkward that sounded. Obviously all the wonderful sex had killed off some of his brain cells. He certainly hadn’t engaged his mind before opening his mouth.
    “There we go,” Luke said. “He did the teenager. Crap.”
    “She’s twenty-three! She has two degrees! Two impossible science degrees—biology and chemistry! She’s been valedictorian of every school she’s been in! She’s extremely smart.”
    “I know this,” Luke said. “Jack told me. In fact, he told me at the same time he pointed to you and Angie and said, ‘That can’t happen.’ So now what, genius?”
    “Nothing happens, that’s what.” Paddy said. “We’re friends. We’re both stuck in a weird holding pattern in our lives right now. She knows all about my situation, about Jake, about the Navy. And I know about hers, about her accident, her indecision about continuing med school.”
    Luke looked at Colin. Colin looked at Luke. “Think Jack is going to buy ‘weird holding pattern’?” Colin asked.
    “I wouldn’t count on it.”
    “Screw it!” Patrick said, storming toward the door. He whirled back toward his brothers suddenly. “This isn’t about Jack. It’s about us, me and Angie, sitting out rough waters in Virgin River. We’re adults. I might be a little more of an adult if you’re counting years but I bet I have a lower IQ, so that puts us pretty much even. So mind your own goddamn business, all right?” Then he stormed out the door and walked toward his Jeep.
    “Hey!”
    He turned around to see Colin standing on the porch. Colin, the