‘Do you need me to tell you that if you play him, and hurt him, we may not be able to remain friends?’
‘No.’ She already had that bit figured. She’d had a younger brother too. Once. She picked up her handbag. Jacob stood aside to let her pass. ‘I know the thickness of blood,’ she said quietly. And the fragility of friendship. ‘I wasn’t playing your brother for sport, Jacob. I wasn’t playing him at all.’
She didn’t know why she’d done what she’d done with Luke Bennett.
‘Maddy…’ Jacob’s gruff voice stopped her in the doorway. ‘Even if you’re not playing with him…don’t hurt him.’
Madeline smiled faintly. ‘You care about him a lot, don’t you?’
‘He’s my brother.’ Jacob ran his hand through already untidy hair. ‘I care for you too. As a friend, you understand. Not as a…’ Jacob appeared to be at a loss for words. ‘You know.’
‘I understand.’
‘Good,’ he said awkwardly. ‘Because I don’t want you getting hurt either.’
‘I understand.’
‘Good,’ he said again. ‘So that’s settled, then?’
‘Definitely.’
‘See you tomorrow.’
‘Can’t wait.’
Madeline stepped out of the dojo, hailed a taxi, and headed for the nearest gin and tonic, silently rueing the day she met her first Bennett brother and thanking her lucky stars there’d been a ten-year interim in which to get used to the breed before she’d met her second.
Jake took one look at his wallet sitting in the toaster and headed for the Scotch.
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