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Dean was an only child, so he had no practical experience when it came to sibling relationships. He was also a professional bachelor—the world champion when it came to casual dating. As such, he’d never formed any long-lasting, committed relationships where he’d felt protective of a woman.

It had taken a newly forged relationship with his twenty-four-year-old daughter, McKenna, to show Dean that, like Victor, he possessed a chest-beating gene that had him going all caveman whenever it came to men sniffing around his Kenny. God knew that gene had been triggered hard when the Rays’ resident playboy, Tank Phillips, had started a relationship with McKenna. Mercifully, his right winger’s intentions had been good…or things could have gotten ugly for the young man.

Nowadays, Vivian looked different than she had all those years ago. Older, obviously. Still confident, but in a quieter way. She had the same dark hair as her brother, and today, it was pulled into a loose knot, with a few escaped strands framing her face. She had glasses perched on top of her head and a laptop bag slung across one shoulder. There was nothing flashy about her, yet people unconsciously stepped around her in the terminal, as if poise generated its own kind of space.

He’d seen her quite a bit this past year, since taking over as Baltimore’s head coach last season. Usually at Victor’s house for team pool parties and the occasional dinner. He’d even attended a welcome home celebration Victor had thrown a month earlier, when Vivian returned home after working in Africa for a few months.

Typically, they shared brief conversations before moving on to socialize with others. They’d seen each other enough that he figured they’d made the leap from acquaintances to something resembling friendship, though they were more “same social circle” type of friends than bosom buddies or close confidantes. To be honest, most of what Dean knew about Vivian’s personal life had been delivered secondhand from Victor, whenever the two of them met up for drinks, rather than from Vivian herself.

“What are you doing in Boston?” he asked.

“I had a meeting with my editor.”

He frowned for a moment before a light went on. “Oh, right. You wrote a book. I remember Victor mentioning that.”

“I finally finished the research during that Africa trip and managed to complete the first draft.” She tapped her laptop case. “Now begins the dreary part. Edits.” She made a face that proved she wasn’t looking forward to that task.

Victor had shared some details about Vivian’s African trip, briefly explaining that she’d gone to gather data for the writing project. Her daughter, Pip, stayed in Baltimore with her uncle. At first, Victor had grumbled about becoming a full-time babysitter, even though Dean knew the guy was all bluster and full of shit. No uncle had ever loved his niece more than Victor loved Pip.

Then, Victor had fallen hopelessly in love with Pip’s nanny, Belle, and the complaining ended full stop.

“What brings you to Boston?” Vivian asked. “Don’t you guys have a game tomorrow night?”

“My mom had a mild heart attack.”

Compassion softened her features immediately. “Oh, Dean. I’m sorry. Victor didn’t tell me. I’m sure that’s been very stressful for you and your parents.”

“The doctors say she’ll be okay, and if attitude alone can mend a heart, then there’s a good chance my mom will live to be a hundred and twelve.”

Vivian grinned. “I hope that’s exactly what happens.”

“So do I.”

For a moment, they stood quietly while another delayed flight announcement was delivered over the PA.

Vivian sighed. “I suppose we’re both stuck.”

“Looks that way.”

“My original flight was supposed to leave at the ass crack of dawn this morning. When it was canceled, they put me on standby for this one,” she said, and he suddenly understood why she looked so tired. He’d been grumpy about having to hang out here a few hours. Vivian had been playing the waiting game a lot longer.

“And it got canceled too. You’ve had a rougher day than me,” he admitted.

She glanced toward the endless customer service line.

“I’ve been in this line for forty-five minutes,” he grumbled.

“Only forty-five?” she joked. “I spent two and a half hours in line after the first canceled flight.”

“Thanks for bolstering my spirits,” he said, grimacing.

She laughed.

“Let me guess. Pip is with Belle and Victor?” he asked.

Vivian nodded. “I just called a few minutes ago to tell her I wasn’t making it home tonight.”

“Was she upset?”