“It wasn’t your fault,” she murmured, Liam’s hands on her shoulders warm and heavy, a delightful weight.

“Oh it was, decidedly, his fault.” Liam’s voice was low and serious as he glared at his brother, retrieving Katie’s purse from the dresser where she’d left it. “How did you get here?”

“I drove.” She took her purse. Yes, she vaguely remembered bringing it with her, setting it on the dresser, looking at Patrick in his leather pants and snakeskin boots. They’d seemed so sexy at the time, but now all she could see was the hulk of a man in front of her, his gaze never leaving her face.

“I’m going to drive you home,” Liam told her, reaching around her to pick up the glass of milk. “Patrick will follow in your car.”

“That’s not necessary.” Sanity was beginning to return-at least, she thought it was. She was embarrassed by her actions. By this whole situation.

“Yes it is,” Liam insisted, holding the glass out. There was only a little bit left. “Drink the rest.”

She did, dutifully, and blushed when Liam used his sleeve-the one he hadn’t used to wipe her face earlier-to dab the milk mustache from her upper lip.

“Feel a little better?”

“Thank you.” She smiled up at him, buttoning her coat, strangely much more steady on her feet now, in spite of the alcohol. “You really don’t have to drive me home.”

“Keys.” Liam shook his head, holding his hand out to take them when she retrieved her key ring from her coat pocket. “I don’t want you driving, not in your condition. Besides, it’s snowing.”

“It is?” she asked as he handed her car keys over to Patrick, Liam guiding her up the stairs. Outside, the world had gone white. There was nothing more thrilling than the first snow of the season and it lifted her spirits, falling around them in heavy, fat flakes.