“Hey, have you got a minute?” Steph asked, sounding uncharacteristically strained.

This didn’t bode well. He moved down the hall for some privacy. “Yeah, what’s going on?”

She paused before answering, and he felt his stomach tilt. Damn. “It’s getting bad, Seth.”

Deep breath. He’d been waiting on a call like this, preparing for it, dreading it surely, but that didn’t make receiving it any easier. “All right.”

“I’m starting to worry about leaving her by herself. I’d love for her to live with us, but we barely have enough room for ourselves.”

If it were possible, his heart sank further. His nana had always cherished her independence, even with the onset of her illness. A nursing home was the last thing she’d want. Hoping Steph was blowing things out of proportion, he asked, “What happened?”

“I went over yesterday afternoon and found her in the backyard in her nightgown. She was so confused. If I hadn’t gotten there when I did, I’m afraid she might have walked off and gotten lost. It scared the hell out of me. She’s never done anything like that before. I’ve taken off work a few days to stay with her. We have a doctor’s appointment in a couple weeks.” Her voice cracked a little. “Beyond that, I don’t know what to do.”

He didn’t know if the insinuation was that he wasn’t doing enough. And yes, he always felt terrible that he was stuck here leaving Steph with the bulk of the work taking care of Nana, who’d been diagnosed with early stage Alzheimer’s—which apparently wasn’t so early anymore—but Steph had never shown much weakness about it. Now…she sounded tired. And scared. “Do you need me to come up there?”

“No, that’s okay. We’ll see what the doctor says and decide something then. I just wanted you to know what’s going on.”

“It’ll be all right. Just let me know. And if you need me for anything, I’m there. Okay?” God knew her other ass**le brother wouldn’t be. Seth had a hard time thinking of Scott as his brother. He had a hard time thinking of Scott at all without wanting to find the f**ker and break something over his head.

Something must have been written on his face when he walked back to the front. Brian took one look at him and went back to painting without continuing their previous conversation.

His nana was in bad shape, and he wanted to break something over that sad fact, too. She’d raised him, raised them all. Left her life in Oklahoma to come and take care of three orphaned grandkids. She didn’t deserve this shit. But then, no one did. His parents hadn’t deserved to die broken and bloody in a crash, either, but that hadn’t stopped it from happening.

He could move up there for a little while. Take the burden off Stephanie. What the f**k he’d do in Oklahoma, he didn’t know, but there wasn’t much holding him here except for his job. He’d never find another Dermamania or another boss like Brian.

His phone chimed with a text. Macy. Hey, you still there? She’s about to do the five-point-palm exploding heart technique! “There are consequences to breaking the heart of a murdering bastard.”

And girls like Macy would be in short supply anywhere he went. He damn near texted back that he could fall in love with someone like her…but he knew all too well there were consequences to that, too.

Phase Two of nurturing heartbreak for Candace, apparently, was retail therapy. A few days had passed since the fallout, but they weren’t through the worst by a long shot and wouldn’t be for longer than Macy cared to imagine. She followed Candace from store to store, not feeling it in the least. Browsing racks bored the ever-loving hell out of her, but she humored her friend, giving her opinion on this shirt and that…noticing all the while that Candace’s tastes seemed to be getting edgier. Brian’s influence? Or rebellion? Probably a little of both.

“That’s not you at all,” Macy commented on her friend’s latest selection, which was very black and very…not Candace, who was usually all about pink and pastels. Bright and cheery.

“Good,” Candace all but snapped. “I’m sick of me.” She added it to the stack in her arms.

So much for cheery. Macy didn’t want to fight, but she couldn’t stop herself. “You’ve got to snap out of this, you know.”

She expected a sharp retort, but Candace all but deflated. “I don’t know how. I just…honestly, Macy, tell me how, and at this point I’ll listen. I promise.”

“The grief will take time. But as far as…changing things about yourself?” Macy indicated the dark pile of garments in her arms. “Come on, Candace. That’s a little much. Don’t do that.”

“You did.”

Macy had been reaching for a blingy T-shirt that caught her eye, but froze at her friend’s words. “What?”

“You changed. After your accident. After Jared. I mean, you still dress the same, I’m not talking about that. But you stopped doing things you loved. You stopped doing the rodeo thing.”

“That had more to do with the accident than Jared.”

“Did it?”

“Yes, it did. You know that.”

“I’m beginning to think I don’t know much of anything.”

“You’re having experiences, you’re stepping out of your comfort zone, you’re learning things about yourself and life that you didn’t know before. It hurts, but it’s good for you. It makes you strong. Trust me, I’ve been through it.” She sighed. “I’m still going through it. You’re right, I did give up things I love. I miss them.”

“Thanks for being here for me. I’m sorry if I’ve been a bitch. You know I love you, don’t you?”

“I love you too. That’s why I’m here.”

That one little admission about giving things up had taken a lot out of her, but she was glad she’d made it and even gladder Candace had turned the conversation. The air between them cleared a little, the tension draining away now that they had a bit of an understanding. And then, as they were walking out the door with Candace’s purchases—she’d only put two items away and kept three—she had to go and say…

“I wish you could find someone.”

“Oh, stop wishing that on me,” Macy laughed, striving for a light tone.

“Hasn’t it been a while since you’ve even had a date?”

“Hmm. I guess.”

Candace huffed in frustration. “Do you just…not care to be with anyone?”

Macy cut her a meaningful look. “Gee, I can’t wait to be in your shoes.”

“All right, touché. Is that really why you don’t, though? You’re afraid of getting hurt? It sucks but how will you ever find the one if you don’t try?”

Why the hell was she under the gun all of a sudden? “Because I haven’t found anyone who could even be a candidate to be the one. I’m not worried about it. I don’t mind being by myself right now. I like not having to answer to anyone else, or worry about someone else’s moods—don’t ever think there isn’t a male equivalent to PMS. I like eating what I want to eat when I want to eat it and going where I want to go when I want to go. When you’re in a relationship that isn’t always how it is. You have someone else’s wants, feelings, and even their schedule to consider.”