The Sicilian Surrender

“I’m fine,” she said, flashing another smile. “I just want to take a look at the sky. I’m not used to seeing all these stars.”

Her brother grinned. “Me, neither. Us city types tend to forget.”

Fallon nodded, opened the sliding glass doors and stepped out on the terrace. The stars shone down with crystalline brilliance from a black-velvet sky; the ivory moon seemed caught in the uplifted branches of a stand of trees.

The warm air of the Connecticut summer night enveloped her.

Wineglass in hand, Fallon went down stone steps that still held some of the day’s heat. She made her way slowly along the gentle slope of the hill and through terraced rows of grapevines.

There, the earth was cool and moist against her bare feet—she and her sisters had decided to forgo panty hose under their long bridesmaids’ gowns. The breeze, perfumed by heavy clusters of ripening grapes, smelled delicious.

It had been a lovely day. A wonderful weekend. Her mother was blissfully happy with Dan, who’d turned out to be the kind of stepfather that gave the word luster. Spending time with her sisters and brothers was always fun, and her oldest brother was so crazy in love with his Cassie that it almost made you believe in love.

For someone else, at least, if not for yourself.

Fallon stopped walking, sipped some of the wine, ran a hand lightly over a cluster of velvety grapes.

Then, how come she was feeling so—so—

What? What was she feeling? Weary? Under the weather? Maybe even a little bit down? There was no reason for it, none at—

“Hey.”

She gasped and spun around just as Cullen reached her.

“You scared me to half to death,” she said with a little laugh.

“Sorry. I figured you heard me coming.” He grinned. “I guess I have a delicate walk.”

Fallon grinned back at him. “Delicate” was not a word anyone would use to describe her brothers. Cullen, like the rest of them, was big, six foot two in his stockinged feet.

“Uh-huh. About as delicate as a moose. What are you doing out here?”

Cullen shrugged. “Same as you, kid. Checking the stars, stretching my legs, taking a breather. It’s been a long day.”

“A long weekend, you mean. Fun, though.”

“The gathering of the O’Connell clan always is. Fewer fireworks than usual this time, at least.”

Fallon laughed. “Probably out of deference to Cassie. I guess none of us wanted to scare her off. She scored lots of points, being able to tolerate all of us at one clip.”

“Uh-huh. She seems terrific.”

“I agree.”

Brother and sister sipped their wine.

“Amazing,” Cullen said, after a while. “That Keir got married, I mean.”

“It happens,” Fallon said lightly.

“Sure, but not to us.” They both laughed. “It was a great ceremony.”

“Mmm.”

“Those vows they wrote were cool.”

“Mmm,” Fallon said again, and took another sip of wine.

“Touching.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Touching?”

“Yeah. You know, the sentiments they expressed. Isn’t a man permitted to use the word? You thought so, too.”

Fallon blinked. “Were we talking about me?”

Cullen, who’d hours ago discarded his tuxedo jacket and bow tie, opened the top buttons of his shirt.

“You cried a little,” he said softly. “At the end.”

“Me? Cry at a wedding?” Fallon turned toward him and poked a finger into the middle of his chest. “Cullen. My darling little brother—”

“You’re only a year older than I am, kid. Don’t let it go to your head.”

“The point is, I do not cry at weddings. Why would I? When you’ve been a bride nine trillion times—”

“A magazine-cover bride, six times, and don’t look so surprised. Ma keeps count.”

Fallon looked up at him. “Does she?”

“Damned right. And if you want to know the rest, she sends each of us a copy of every magazine that has you on the cover…As if we all didn’t run to the nearest store and buy up all the copies ourselves.”

Pleased beyond reason, Fallon smiled.

“That’s nice.”

“Nice? It’s necessary. How do you think those magazines stay in circulation? If the O’Connells didn’t buy ’em, who would?” He laughed, ducked away from the fist his sister teasingly aimed at his jaw. “But being a bride on a cover doesn’t make you a bride in real life, babe. We both know that.”

Fallon narrowed her eyes. “What’s happening here? You think, now that Keir’s gone down the aisle, we all should?”

Cullen shuddered. “Hell, no!”

“Good. Because I’m not the least bit interested in getting married.”

“Fine with me. I’m just wondering why you were crying.” His voice gentled. “You okay?”

“Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?”