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“Actually, Hank already dragged in the worst of it. I tried to convince him he didn’t have to, but he just shrugged and kept hauling. He even carried Old Faithful in all by himself. Is he always so silent and chivalrous?”
“Quiet, yes. But chivalrous?” She wrinkled her nose. “I’ve never thought of it, but yeah. I guess he is, in a way.”
Brynn had a feeling there was a story behind those words, but she wasn’t sure she should hear it. Not when she was going to spend the next few months living in close proximity to the man. Years of short-term jobs had taught her the importance of keeping the work ties loose.
Though when Hank had bent forward to grab a box from the far reaches of the hatchback, she couldn’t stop herself from noticing that the stretch of his jeans had highlighted one very fine hind end. One very fine, very single hind end—which happened to belong to a member of the family that now employed her.
Nope. She wasn’t asking anybody anything about Hank. Wasn’t going to wonder who else in the family had that thick chestnut hair, wasn’t going to ponder how he would look without that faint line of stubble along his jawline. Instead, she crooked her finger and led Taylor down the hall to the bedroom and the suitcases that awaited.
“That Millie’s a sweetie. Chattered nonstop. How long has she been on the science kick?”
“As long as I can— Oh, damn. You didn’t mention your thing about MythBusters to her, did you?”
“She brought it up first. I was just being friendly.”
“You’re never going to get rid of her.”
Brynn shrugged and removed a pile of sweaters from the suitcase. “No hardship there. She’s a cutie. It’s okay with me if she pops in once in a while.”
“Oh, Brynn...”
It wasn’t Taylor’s words that made Brynn look up from the dresser where she was nestling her sweaters. It was the way Taylor hesitated that caught Brynn’s heart.
“What is it?”
“It’s just that... I really like Millie. The whole family. And it’s killing me that I’m going to have to leave them, you know?”
Brynn took an instinctive step, but Taylor shook her head.
“Don’t. I’m barely hanging on as it is. I don’t want to... Having you here is wonderful, don’t get me wrong. But all of a sudden this is real. I’m going to have to go. And I...”
Brynn’s throat tightened.
“If this doesn’t work, and I do have to leave, will you stay on? Do my job for me until they can hire someone else?”
“Oh, right. Because they would want to keep seeing the person who helped pull the wool over their—”
“Brynn, please. This is important. Will you do it?”
On one hand, Taylor was supposed to be thinking positive thoughts, marshaling her focus on the outcome they wanted. On the other hand, if she was thinking about the job, she wasn’t thinking about Carter.
Maybe.
“Sure, hon. If it will make this easier for you, and if they would want me around, then yes. Of course.”
“Thanks.” After a long moment, Taylor blew out a very loud breath and had another slug of margarita. “Anyway. Enough about me. Be careful with Mills, okay? Her best friend moved over Christmas and she’s been having a rough go of it since then. Not that she was ever one of the popular kids, you know?”
“More power to her.”
“Well, yeah, you and I can say that now. But when you’re little...” Taylor shrugged. “She’s not your average second-grader.”
“Yeah, you usually don’t see little kids running around in lab coats.”
“Oh. That.” Taylor ran her finger along the edge of her glass. “Don’t say anything to her about it, okay? Or to Hank. That shirt was Heather’s.”
“Who?”
“Millie’s mom.”
Ooooooh. “I thought Mom’s been gone for a while.”
“Most of Millie’s life, but there are visits. The last one was over Christmas. It takes her a while to get back on track.”
Poor little mite. Brynn had found it hard enough to cope with a family breakup when she was a teenager. She could only imagine the toll it would take on a little one.
“Well, not to worry. When she comes here, she can revel in total accepting geekery. Or, if she wants to try life on the other side, we can do our nails and watch Tangled until we wear out the disc.” Brynn closed the drawer and brushed her hands. “Okay, kiddo. You’re here, I’m here, there’s nobody else around. It’s time to commence making you fall in love again.”
“This is silly. You know that, right?”
“You agreed, Taylor. It’s part of the deal.”
“I know.” She sighed. “Honestly, I don’t have very high hopes. But I promise to give it my best. God knows if there’s a way to avoid the hurt that’s staring me in the face, I’m all for it.”
Well, that was better. Even if Taylor did nothing but follow directions, reluctant or not, Brynn had no doubt that she could make this happen. She’d pulled off harder things in her life than helping a woman fall back in love with a man who used to be the center of her world. Taylor might think it was hopeless, but Brynn was convinced it was a piece of cake. Wedding cake, to be specific.
“Okay. The first step is research. I need to learn all about Ian. More specifically, I need you to tell me everything that ever attracted you to him. What little things does he do to make your heart go pitter-patter? What’s the sweetest thing he ever did? How did you first know you were in love with him? Give me ten words to describe him.”
“Brynn—”
“Taylor.”
“Fine.” With a long sigh, Taylor uncurled from the chair, moved to the bed and stretched out full length.
“Hey! I haven’t even tested that yet. You do not get to be the one to break in my bed.”
“This is serious work, Brynn. Emotionally draining. I need to be supported.”
“Support, my ass,” Brynn said, but she rooted through the box marked Operation Sleeping Beauty and pulled out a notebook and an ancient tape recorder she had liberated from her mother’s basement.
“Is that what I think it is? I haven’t seen one of those in years.”
“Yes, it is, and you seriously don’t want to know how hard it is to find cassette tapes these days. Start talking.”
“Fine.” Taylor wriggled deeper into the pillows, making Brynn grit her teeth in envy. She’d stayed up way too late packing, and that bed was far too tempting. Though if Taylor was on it, Brynn couldn’t sack out and crash, so maybe this was better. “Any particular place you want me to start?”
Brynn glanced down at the notebook full of hastily scribbled ideas. “At the beginning, of course. Your first memory of Ian.”
“Um...let me think. That’s a tough one.”
“Two margaritas shouldn’t lead to this level of impairment, Taylor.”
“Bite me. I just can’t remember a time when he wasn’t in my life. I’ve known him since I was born. My mom and his mom went to high school together.”
“So when you say you’ve known him all your life, you’re not exaggerating.”
“That’s about it.”
Well, this might be a bit more difficult than anticipated. How could she help Taylor pinpoint the magic, when the magic had been with her every day?
“So were you in love with him all your life?”
“No.”
A simple answer, but there was just enough of a twist to the way Taylor drew the word out, almost dubiously, that made Brynn’s ears perk up.
“Elaborate.”
“Well, when we were kids, he was kind of on the outskirts of my circle. We saw each other when our folks got together, but there were two elementary schools, so we weren’t part of each other’s day-to-day lives.”
“You wouldn’t have been anyway, right? Isn’t he a couple of years older than you?”
“Right. He’s Greg’s age. And since you know how much girls like to hang out with their older brothers when they’re growing up...”
Brynn snorted. “Tell me about it. Sam couldn’t decide if he was supposed to protect me or sacrifice me to the hockey gods, so he usually did both.”
“How did he do that?”
She shrugged. “Put me in goal, shot pucks at me, then swooped in with an ice pack when I got hit.”
“Oh, that must have made for a secure childhood.”
“It had its moments.” At least, until it fell apart. But they weren’t supposed to be talking about her. “Okay. So when did you know that things had shifted with Ian?”
“Um...oh, hell. Promise you won’t laugh?”
“I swear.”
“Well...I was seventeen. It was his first year of university, and I hadn’t seen him since the summer, maybe earlier. He walked into church and he looked so...different. It was like he’d been... You know how, in the movies, the king will pull out his sword and tap the dude on the shoulders and say, ‘I dub thee Sir Fancy Pants,’ and they stand up and you could swear the guy’s standing a little taller? It was like that.”
Brynn had to swallow the lump in her throat. “That’s beautiful, Taylor.”
“Yeah, it was a pretty amazing moment.” Her laugh was short. “But, Brynn, I was seventeen. And it turns out that I wasn’t the only one who had been glad to see him come home. His old high school girlfriend had finally slept with him just the night before. So all I was seeing was afterglow.”
“Must you try to kill any hint of romance that ever existed in the world?”
“Well, no. Because like I said, I was a kid. It was all very romantic and magical, and I fell like that.” She snapped her fingers. “The thing is, I don’t think I was falling for Ian the person. I was falling for the whole idea of love and romance. He was just the rack that I hung my dreams on. Not like—”
Taylor bit her lip and Brynn knew what she was going to say: not like with Carter.
“It wasn’t like that with him, was it?”
Taylor shook her head. “But we’re not supposed to be talking about him.”
Brynn sat on the bed, a small corner of her brain noting how utterly sinkable the mattress was beneath her. She couldn’t wait to curl up beneath that fluffy comforter and indulge in an hour of reading when this day was over. “You’re right. Talking about Carter won’t be helpful.” She drew in a deep breath and hoped she wasn’t shooting herself in the foot. “But it might be good for me to know what draws you to him. So for the next ten minutes, you can tell me all about him. Anything. How it happened, how you knew things had shifted, the whole works. We’re going to lay it all on the table so we can deal with it. And then we’re going to stop talking about stupid men and finish off those margaritas and laugh for a while, okay?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Okay. Ten minutes. Go.”
“I won’t need that long.”
This was interesting. Taylor had always needed at least three sentences to say what Brynn could say in one.
“Go on.”
Taylor pulled a pillow onto her lap and hugged it close. “Ian is a wonderful, wonderful guy. Honestly, if anyone were to put him and Carter together and rate them on their amazingness, Ian would probably win, hands down. He’s more classically attractive, he’s great with kids, he’s more outgoing and charismatic. He’s got this air about him that makes people just, you know, like him.”
“And yet?” Brynn twisted her fingers and waited. Whatever this was, it was key. If she wanted to help her cousin find her happy ending, it was important to have all the facts.
“It’s like this. Ian is like a suit you put on for work. You can feel comfortable in it, powerful and happy and all those good things. But at the end of the day, you still want to come home and put on the clothes that call to you. Sweats. Jammies. The ones that are so soft and comfortable that you barely notice them.” She looked up. “Ian is the most amazing suit I will ever wear, Brynn. But it’s finally becoming clear to me that I’m not a suit person.”
Brynn reached for the margaritas. This cake might not be so easy to slice after all.
CHAPTER THREE
ON THE WEDNESDAY MORNING after her arrival, Brynn took a deep breath and walked into Taylor’s office in preparation for her first meeting with the entire North clan. She had been in and out of the office over the past couple of days and been introduced to all the players, but this would be her first real test. Her stomach danced a slow jig of anticipation. She’d gone over all the materials given to her by Taylor and had pulled together some ideas that she knew were solid. The hard part would be convincing the family members that she wasn’t trying to get rid of their plans, but rather wanted to focus on the best ones.
The really hard part would be to get through this meeting without being a total bitch to Carter. Logically, she knew that none of this was his fault, and that he was unaware of Taylor’s dilemma. But logic didn’t keep her from thinking that everything would be fine if he would just get lost. Or maybe meet someone and run off to Vegas. Or do something so devoid of morals that Taylor would never again look at him with anything other than disgust.
That was Brynn’s personal favorite scenario. After all, it had taken just one act of supremely selfish moral cowardice to shred her love for her father. Imagine what such an act could do to a mere crush?
Taylor was alone. She sat behind her desk with a faraway look on her face, barely stirring when Brynn walked in.
“Morning,” she said softly. Taylor merely blinked.
“Hello? Taylor?” Brynn waved her hand in front of her cousin’s face, grinning at the way Taylor startled. “Welcome back to the land of the living.”
“Sorry. I was...”
“Long, long ago, in a galaxy far, far away?”
“Something like that.”
The words were light. The misery in Taylor’s eyes was not.
“Hey.” Brynn glanced into the hall, but seeing no one approaching, she took the chance of slipping around the desk and giving Taylor a light squeeze around the shoulders. “We’ll get through this. I won’t leave you, I promise.”
Taylor smiled faintly and poked at the papers in front of her. “I know. I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Me, too.” Even though she hated the circumstances, she wanted—needed—to be here. Wait and see were not words she could live by, at least not when it came to her family. She had to help.
Her father used to tell her that the world would keep spinning if she sat down, but she never quite believed him. Maybe because he usually followed it up with, Get out of here, Brynn. You’re not needed. And a laugh that never quite struck her as funny.
She shook away the memory and pulled a flash drive from her pocket. “Here you go. The next step in Operation Sleeping Beauty.”
Taylor shook her head but smiled as she took it. “What is it, a how-to manual?”
“Music. The songs you associate with him, plus some from when we were silly romantic teens for good measure.”
“Thanks.” But there was little enthusiasm in Taylor’s voice as she dropped the device into her purse.
This wasn’t good. Brynn knew her efforts wouldn’t be an overnight success, but she had hoped for a slightly more encouraging reaction.
“While we have a minute, I need some more info. Tell me about food.”
“Brynn, I really don’t think this is going to—”
“Taylor, you promised to give this your all. So all up, kid. What foods?”
“Well...he’s a pretty typical guy. Steak. Shrimp. Pasta.”
Brynn shook her head. “Deeper. What foods did you prepare for him? Where did you go to eat? Did he ever feed you cotton candy or kiss chocolate off your mouth or anything like that?”
“Isn’t this just a little bit kinky?”
“Oh, yeah. I really get off on hearing the details of my cousin’s sex life, you betcha.” When Taylor blushed, Brynn hurried on. “Look, I know this isn’t comfortable for either of us. But food is highly associated with romance, so if I’m going to do my job, I need to know what kinds of things you—”
“Hot chocolate.”
“Sorry?”
“Hot chocolate. I’m always cold in the winter and he made it for me.”
Brynn stole a piece of paper from Taylor’s desk and began scribbling notes. “Homemade or from a mix?”
“Homemade, mostly. With a little almond syrup in it. Half and half.” She sighed. “He really does make it better than anyone else.”
“Did you have a special mug?”
“Mmm, no. Just whatever was handy.”
“Marshmallows or whipped cream?”
“Whipped—” she began, then broke off in another blush. Brynn assessed her over the rims of her half-glasses.
“Seriously?”
Taylor’s shrug was as fluid and graceful as everything else she did. “What can I say? He would make a big bowl of whipped cream, and there was always tons left over, and, you know, waste not, want not.”
“I think I get the picture.” And now she would never be able to get it out of her mind, unfortunately.
“Um...Baileys Irish Cream has some pretty potent associations, too.”
“Okay, I think that gives me plenty of material.” But Taylor was in her own world again.
“Kung pao chicken. And doughnuts. How did I forget those? Oh, yeah. Ian has a real fondness for doughnuts. But only ones with a hole in the middle, if you get my—”
She stopped abruptly. Brynn looked up from her notes, ready to give thanks to whatever deity had brought this rush of Too Much Information to a halt, but stopped when she saw the look of utter horror on Taylor’s face as she stared at the door.
Say it isn’t so.
When she turned to follow Taylor’s gaze, Brynn saw exactly what she had feared most: the doorway was filled with Norths, covering the whole spectrum of emotions. Moxie sported a sly smile, Carter had his eyes closed as if in agony, and Hank—Hank wasn’t looking at Taylor but at Brynn. His face was carefully blank, but there was a glint of intense curiosity in his eyes. It was almost as if he had been waiting for her to chime in with stories of her own creative uses for food.
A small sound from the other side of the desk brought Brynn’s attention back to where it was supposed to be: Taylor, the job, making a professional impression on these people who had entrusted her with their celebration.
Silence hung over them. No one seemed capable of speech. Brynn realized that if anyone was going to get them through this, it had to be her.
Long months of caring for her two younger brothers while their mother was sick had taught her that a bright smile and brisk attitude conveyed confidence that usually reassured others, if not herself. She shoved the paper in her pocket and turned to the door. Big smile. Breezy confidence. Play the part.
“Mrs. North. Good to see you again. You, too, Carter, Hank. Taylor has told me about your thoughts for the festival, and they sound fabulous. I’m looking forward to bringing them to life. Now, I know you were thinking of horse-and-buggy rides, but did you have any specific...”
She continued chattering while guiding them into the conference room where the rest of the family waited. By the time everyone was seated, Taylor’s face was only slightly pink instead of horror-movie white, and Moxie had stopped breaking out in unnerving snickers. Carter still wouldn’t look up, but Hank—Hank was watching her again.
Quickly, so fast that she almost thought she imagined it, he winked at her from across the table.
Forget keeping herself from being a bitch to Carter. The real challenge here would be making it through the meeting without sinking through the floor.
* * *
WEDNESDAYS WERE HANK’S night off. When he’d bought the cabins and moved himself and Millie out of the home he had shared with his folks and Moxie, his mother had made him swear on her future grave that he would bring Millie back at least once a week. Usually they grabbed a quick bite together, then he was pushed out the door with orders to see a movie or “be social.” Ma said that it was so they could spoil Millie silly without him protesting. He suspected it was really part of her ongoing quest to see him remarried, or at least going out on a regular basis. Subtlety had never been one of her strengths.
As he walked to the sprawling old Victorian and yelled to Millie to slow down before she slipped on the ice, he braced himself for what he was sure was going to be another round of lectures. Tonight’s installment, however, was strictly his own fault. He knew he’d made a mistake the moment he let himself wink at Brynn during the meeting.
It wasn’t the gesture itself that he regretted. She deserved something after getting them through Awkward Central without anyone wanting to bleach their brains. She’d put on some cute little librarian half-glasses, talking about nothing like her life depended on it, and he saw why Taylor had said she was all about family. She’d been willing to make an idiot of herself if necessary to help her cousin.
Yeah, she had definitely earned a wink. If only he’d been smooth enough to wait until Ma was looking the other way....
Sure enough, no sooner had he and Millie walked into the house and hung their coats in the hall closet than his mother took him by the arm.
“Moxie, can you amuse Millie for a while, please? Henry and I are going to the laundry room for a little chat.”
Ah, hell. She’d called him Henry and invoked the laundry room. That was the spot Janice North reserved for the worst transgressions, the ones usually punished by a serious dressing-down and manual labor.
“Moxie, no. Save me. You know what she’s like when she gets talking.”
Moxie grinned and tugged on the collar of Millie’s lab coat. “Come on, sprite. Let’s get out of your grandma’s way while she knocks some sense into your daddy’s head.”
“Can I watch?”
Great. Even his kid was abandoning him.
Resigned to his fate, he preceded his mother into the room and boosted himself up to sit on the dryer—an instinct from childhood. It was harder to be spanked if his mother couldn’t reach his bottom. “Okay. Let’s hear it.”
“Henry William North. Before you and Millie moved out, you and I had a little talk, remember?”
“And here it is, your once-a-week dinner as promised.”
“There was more to it than that, and you know it. You agreed with me that you were well and truly over the divorce and ready to move on. Start dating. Start having a life again.”
Very true. ’Course, he’d had his fingers crossed when he said it, but come on. That was self-preservation.
“You know, Ma, most folks your age are starting to have trouble remembering things. Why is it that your memory is just getting sharper? Are you part of some secret government experiment to steal memory cells from one person and transfer them to another?”
“Be serious for a minute, will you? I know it took a while to get over Heather, and I understand. You had a lot thrown at you very fast, and you needed time. But it’s been long enough. You bought the cabins, you and Millie are settled there, you’re building the life you wanted all those years ago, back before things got knocked off track.”
Hank snorted. Knocked off track? More like knocked up.
“In any case, I’m getting worried about you. You haven’t shown much interest in a woman in heaven knows how long.”
“Hey, hey, hey.” He raised his hand. A man could only listen to so much before he had to defend himself. “Not true. In fact, the only reason I saw the last Batman movie was because it had—”
“Anne Hathaway in a catsuit. I know.”
“You do?”
“Honestly, Hank. You think your brothers never tell me anything?”
Ian was lucky he was out of the country. Carter and Cash, on the other hand, were dead meat.
“Be that as it may,” she said with a pat on his arm, “it’s time for you to stop fixating on Catwoman and start looking at the flesh-and-blood women around you.”
Wait for it...
“That Brynn... She certainly seems nice.”
Could he call them or what? “Drop it, Ma.”
“Why? She’s smart and funny, and Millie certainly seems to like her.”
“Plus, she’s living in my backyard, which would make things kind of awkward if it didn’t work out, don’t you think? Not to mention that she’s working for us. Did you even listen to that sexual-harassment training we had to sit through?”