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“What’s her name?” John asked.

Quentin lifted his gaze to the doorway where his brother leered at him.

“Who is she?” his brother persisted.

He rose to his feet and shoved his hands in his pockets. “What makes you think this is about a woman?”

“You can’t fool me, big brother. I know you too well.” John grinned. “A woman has captured your attention. Have you set a wedding date?”

Quentin stumbled over the word date. They hadn’t even been on a date. He’d very much like to hold Emma’s hand, to see her lips part with a smile for him. “No.”

John leaned against the doorframe. Quentin wasn’t fooled by his brother’s casual stance. “Are you bringing her to Sunday dinner this week?” John asked.

“No.” Quentin recoiled at the thought of exposing his reluctant fascination with Emma to his entire family.

“Interesting.” John absently scratched his chin. “You aren’t normally indecisive about women. You see one you want. You go after her. None of this dithering around.”

He couldn’t deny the truth. In the past, he’d pushed women hard to commit to him early in a relationship, but he knew firsthand how nonbinding engagements were. He wouldn’t repeat that mistake again.

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