by Ava Miles
The worst thing, though…
Sometimes in their eyes, she felt like Ben was looking at her from the other side, his disapproval heavy.
Perhaps the twins knew she was attracted to Flynn. She’d already called Emily and had a quick girl chat. Her friend had laughed heartily in response to her question about their…history. “No, we haven’t slept together if that’s what you mean. Not that he’s not delicious, and it’s about time you got interested in a real man. I was hoping you might take a shine to each other.”
“What?” she’d gasped back.
“Flynn likes WYSIWYG—what you see is what you get—and that’s you, honey. Plus, you’re both funny, love skincare and fashion, work in family businesses, and love to travel even if you haven’t since the twins. Call me crazy, but I had a feeling.”
“You think he likes me?” she’d said, all teenager-like.
“A man doesn’t drive across the country for a business meeting that could be done over the phone unless he’s intrigued. And he brought a gift basket! He liked what he saw on your website. I could tell when I talked to him on the phone the other day.”
She’d cut her legs shaving, thinking about that conversation. Emily knew her better than almost anyone. Her opinion meant a lot—and it had Annie thinking crazy thoughts. Like maybe a romance with Flynn wasn’t so impossible after all.
With those seeds of hope germinating inside of her, she’d tried on three outfits—all of them wrong—and then found herself standing in front of her hope chest. No one had opened it for ten years. She’d shut it the final time after packing her hospital bag in preparation for the twins’ birth. At the time, it had felt like the right thing to do—putting away the past so she could give her babies her sole focus. But at times she’d caught herself staring at it with longing, thinking about the part of her that lay inside.
While symphonic music didn’t crescendo when she opened it, dust motes danced around her, as if celebrating an end to their confinement.
Amelia oohed and aahed, asking if she could look inside at all of the “pretties.” The dried orange blossoms Annie had pressed between the pages of her first makeup syllabus for Glauca Rossi were so thin and faded they were barely discernable anymore, almost as if their very presence in her hope chest had been long-suffering.
After pulling out several items, she finally found what she was looking for—the first designer jeans she’d bought in London and a simple white cotton T-shirt from Paris as smooth and soft as silk itself. Seeing Flynn dress like he did reminded her of that casual sophisticated style she’d loved. Such simple elegance wouldn’t have made her stand out too much in Nemo, but the pants and shirt had gone into the chest too, along with everything else from her old life. Anything that might make her remember.
She located her hand-tooled belt from Florence decorated with flowers, tracing the pattern as the lush scent of leather filled her nose. God, what a time she and Emily had had visiting the market that day. Suddenly, she could see herself strolling through a market with Flynn, hand in hand.
Oh, Emily really had planted hope in her heart.
“Why do you have all this stuff locked up, Mom?” Amelia asked, bending over the edge and looking inside. “They’re so beautiful. You should wear these things.”
“Maybe I will, Amelia. While Flynn and his family are here.”
She could justify doing so if she thought of it as playing a part. A boutique business owner of a luxury body care business would dress like this for clients, right?
“Show me more,” Amelia demanded, making her heart warm. Her daughter was as hungry for the outside world as she’d always been, and it made her happy to see it.
If Merriam Enterprises really did buy her company, she’d have the freedom to broaden her daughters’ horizons. She’d been wanting to move them off the farm, away from her husband’s lingering disapproval, the daily proximity of her in-laws, and an old life that was no more. With this order, with this potential sale, that might finally be possible. Flynn had talked about the world being her oyster, and she was eager to hold it in her hands, as much for the girls as for her.
“Mom! I want to see these.” Amelia pointed to a pair of slinky black designer sandals Annie had found in a flea market outside of Milan.
“I used to wear those shoes when I went out for fun at night in London.” Annie touched the soft leather. “Want to try them on?”
“Oh, yes!” Amelia jumped up, excited.
Clutching the black Catalan lace chemise she’d bought in Barcelona to her chest, Annie watched her daughter totter in the heels. Then she spotted the twins frowning at her from the doorway.
“You never wore those for Daddy,” Iris said with vinegar in her voice before she and Eloise walked away.
Because Ben had told her those clothes made her look stupid, like she was putting on airs. Her anger at him rose again, and she had to shake it off as she shook out the shirt.
Now, standing in the kitchen with Flynn, she glanced in the direction the girls had disappeared. It felt like the gulf between them was only widening, and she didn’t know how to span it.
“You all right?” Flynn asked, making her jump in place. “You look lost in thought.”
She put her hands on the counter to gather herself out of that reverie. “I’m sorry about that. The twins took their father’s death hard, and seeing you here… They might be having some crazy thoughts.”
“I can’t imagine how hard that must have been and still might be.”
“Do you want to come back tomorrow morning?” she asked. “This must be so awkward for you.” She looked down at her hands as she said it, not wanting him to see the expression in her eyes, so it surprised her when strong hands settled on her shoulders. Instead of jumping, she all but melted into them. He rubbed the tension there, and she fought the urge to lean her head back against his chest and take comfort in his presence. He’d touched her earlier too, she realized, during their meeting in the kitchen. Could Emily be right?
“I’ve got pretty thick skin, but I’m like everyone else. I want them to like me. They’re your daughters, after all.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “But I’m a patient man, and my charm has been known to soften even the oldest biddy, Santa hat not required. Of course, I’m not saying the twins are biddies.”
“What a relief,” she said dryly. “Maybe you’ll have to try out that elf hat, after all. They’re not as warm, but they’re much sillier.”
“Oh, we haven’t yet reached the elf-hat level of desperation,” Flynn said, setting his hands aside. “Why don’t I warm up the rest of the food since I don’t know where your table settings are?”
“I’ve already set the dining room table,” she said with a smile. “A good businesswoman always prepares.”
“I like that about you,” he said, returning her smile.
His smell still covered her, and she blurted out, “You smell like vetiver and clove and lime.”
His brow winged up. “It’s in the cologne my sister and her perfume maker cooked up for me.”
“I like it.” She felt a rush of heat in her belly. “I’ll finish with the food. Why don’t you find Amelia, if you don’t mind? The girls probably hurt her feelings, calling her a baby. I’ve told them to stop it, but they’ve started doing it more since middle school. I miss those easier days when Iris and Eloise just wanted to play with their baby sister. Now all they do is pick on her.”
“I’ve got this,” he said, giving her that full, encouraging smile before he walked out of the kitchen.
She busied herself with warming and plating the food. He’d brought a feast. The steaks looked delicious, the roasted meat smell making her mouth water. She juggled the plates like the former waitress she’d been, socking away money for school in London, and headed to the dining room.
And okay, the fact that they were eating in the dining room was probably a dead giveaway that something major was happening in their house, even if her outfit and the rest
of her actions hadn’t been enough of a tip-off.
“Okay, everyone, let’s eat!” She headed back to the kitchen for a pitcher of water, wishing she’d had a lemon to slice for color.
When she returned, Flynn was sitting beside Amelia on the right side of the table, and the twins were staring at them from across the way. Iris had flipped her hair over one shoulder, one of the signs she was unhappy. Eloise had her arms crossed.
Boy, this was going to be fun. The candles sputtered as she sat down, almost as if sensing the tension in the room. Or was it Ben’s ghost? God, she got chills at that thought.
She noted that Flynn hadn’t presumed to sit at the head of the table like some men might. She liked that he didn’t think it was his right just because he had a penis. “Shall we say grace?”
She hoped it wouldn’t be awkward for him, but it was how she’d raised her girls. She wanted them to know and practice gratitude, and that started at home.
Everyone bowed their heads, Flynn included, and she and her girls recited the simple prayer.
“Great! Now let’s eat.” Amelia put her knee on her chair, pushing up so she could reach for the spoon in the mac and cheese.
“Here,” Flynn said, putting his hand on her back to make sure she didn’t tumble onto the floor. “You point, and I’ll dish. You know what? You remind me a little of my youngest sister, Michaela, when she was little. She didn’t like waiting for the food to come around, so she’d stand on her chair or even climb on the table to get what she wanted. It drove my mom crazy.”
“It drives my mom crazy too, but I’m a growing girl. Sometimes the monster in my tummy is so loud it wakes people up.”
Annie laughed. “She’s right. It does.”
The point and scoop process began, Amelia’s eyes going wide as she looked at her growing plate, but Flynn didn’t rest on his laurels.
“And you girls,” he said, gesturing to the twins. “I’m loving your sense of style. Do you look at a lot of fashion magazines or blogs? Because you’re naturals.”
The girls shared a look before Iris said, “We follow Aunt Emily and her friends. They’re famous models.”
“I know,” Flynn said. “Since I like fashion myself, I hang out a lot with your Aunt Emily and her colleagues.”
Was this his way of saying he dated models? Still, she had to give him points for engaging the girls by bringing up something they cared about.
“You do?” Eloise asked before Iris elbowed her and gave her a flat stare.
“Iris? Eloise?” Annie prompted. “Why don’t you serve yourselves? Goodness, doesn’t everything look delicious?”
“I guess,” Eloise said half-heartedly.
“It sure does to me,” Amelia said, shoveling in her first bite of mac and cheese and then immediately going after the hash brown casserole. “Oh my goodness! This is all so good.”
“Try not to talk with your mouth full, sweetie,” Annie said, giving her a smile which she returned as she chewed way too fast for the amount of food she’d spooned in her mouth like usual.
She noticed the twins weren’t taking much food, but she was used to it. When she looked up, Flynn was holding out the platter of steak.
“Please, serve yourself,” she said.
“Ladies first. Besides, my mom would kill me.”
Amelia laughed out loud, her mouth full, and she kept right on laughing as Flynn gamely answered her never-ending list of questions about him and his family. But the twins kept their apparent pact of silence, only breaking it when Flynn engaged them on fashion. Still, from the intent way they watched him, Annie knew they were listening to everything he said.
Annie was too. She learned that Flynn was the sixth out of seven children, something that shocked her. Somehow she hadn’t imagined him being from such a big family. They weren’t as common anymore, not even in her community. His account of his siblings’ professions was fascinating, and she wondered what it might be like to be part of a large family enterprise that allowed you to pursue any dream you might have.
When he talked about the people he had arranged to come help them, she perked up and stopped eating her roast chicken.
“Your aunt and uncle have a butler?” she asked, her fork dangling in the air.
“Yes, and he’s English and unflappable,” Flynn said with a grin. “He trained at the Cordon Bleu in Paris, so we’re going to be eating like kings while he’s here.”
Her jaw went slack. The Cordon Bleu…
“It’s queens here, silly,” Amelia said. “Right, Mom?”
“You bet.”
Amelia scooped up the last of her hash browns. “I want cake!”
Annie eyed everyone’s plates. The twins were still picking at their food, but that could last forever. She wondered if it was a sly battle tactic on their part. If she was in a hurry, they always managed to slow her down. She tried to tell herself they were teaching her patience.
But some days she simply thought they were exerting their muscles.
“I’ll get you cake,” Annie said, rising. “Iris. Eloise. When you’re finished, you can have some too. Flynn, do you want some?”
“I never pass up chocolate and beautiful women.”
His wink was as tempting as the cake, and she cut herself a slice too. It had encouraged her to discover her old jeans still fit. Her figure had bounced back two years after Amelia’s birth, mostly from running around with her growing business and burning the candle at both ends. Often she forgot to eat while working. Putting on her treasured jeans earlier had felt like slipping back into a part of her, and the cotton T-shirt and belt were as rich as the icing on this chocolate cake.
The moment she returned, Flynn’s eyes locked on hers. Then he smiled, stood, and helped her with her chair. She watched the twins glower.
Their attitude couldn’t stop her insides from sighing. She supposed it would be easier if it was all business, but the woman inside of her, the one who had been in stasis until earlier today, didn’t want easy.
She wanted Flynn Merriam.
Was his regard more than friendly?
Maybe it was time for her to find out.
Chapter 6
It took a lot to make Flynn sweat, but Annie’s twins had made the back of his neck damp with their staring.
They’d clearly cottoned to his interest in their mother, and they didn’t like it one bit. His occasional attempts to engage them about fashion had been lame even to his ears. Gifts hadn’t worked either. He sure hoped his family was going to have some ideas on how to win the twins over. They weren’t thrilled by the merger he had in mind.
“Hello!” a male voice yelled, followed by a higher-pitched female greeting.
“Grandma! Grandpa!” The twins shouted the greetings in tandem, like they seemed to do everything, and jumped out of their chairs in their eagerness to leave the room.
Amelia edged out of her seat and grabbed his hand. “Come on.”
As he stepped into the family room, resplendent with a brightly lit Christmas tree, he composed his face upon seeing the twin girls talking animatedly to an older couple. Their prickly walls were nowhere to be seen. The man looked to be in his sixties and was wearing patched overalls and a dusty work shirt. This was the man he’d seen earlier on the farm. The woman next to him had on navy pants and a white top patterned with holiday wreaths.
“You must be the stranger with the fancy car visiting our parts and staying at the Wingates’,” the man said, patting Iris before crossing to shake Flynn’s hand with a wry glance at Flynn’s hat.
News traveled fast, Flynn thought. “That’s me.”
“I’m Tom Loudermilk, and this is my wife, June. We thought we’d come over and meet the city fella visiting our Annie.”
If the man’s proprietary language wasn’t a dead giveaway, his outright hostile stare would have sealed it.
Flynn wondered if Annie’s husband had been a tough customer as well, or if it had skipped a generation. “Flynn Merriam. A ple
asure to meet you both.”
“He’s from a city with big apples, Grandpa,” Amelia said, still holding his hand. “He’s my new friend.”
“Is he now?” the man said, picking Amelia up and jostling her. “You’re always so quick to make up your mind, Amelia. You had dessert yet? Your grandma made a chocolate pie for everyone.”
“June, you didn’t need to do that,” Annie said, joining them.
Even though Flynn barely knew her, somehow he sensed Annie was working hard for a smile.
“We thought it would be a nice way to welcome Mr. Merriam,” June said with what sounded like genuine warmth. “And here he is looking all festive. The twins mentioned he was coming for dinner when they popped over while you were getting dressed. Did your business go well?”
So the twins had spread the word too, huh? He sent them a smile. “I think so.”
“I’m going to make up a bunch of holiday baskets for his family’s company,” Annie said. “With some help from Flynn and a few other family members. They run their own business. Right, Flynn?”
He gave a winning smile, feeling like he was the one-trick pony on center stage. Maybe he should grab Carrot’s unicorn horn and parade around. “Right. You’ll love my aunt and uncle. They’re in their eighties and absolutely wonderful. They’re always helping the family.”
“That’s good to hear,” Tom said, chucking Amelia under the chin. “Family is everything.”
It sounded oddly like a threat. In the same way he’d instantly known the truth about his connection with Annie, he was struck with the understanding that he didn’t like this man, and the feeling seemed to be mutual even though they’d only just met. Did Tom sense Flynn’s intentions weren’t completely professional, like the twins clearly did? Or was he simply someone who judged people who lived in big cities and drove “fancy” cars?
Well, so be it. Flynn liked Range Rovers, and renting a good SUV had seemed like a smart choice due to the snowy roads. Sue him.
“Flynn brought us chocolate cake and brownies, Grandma,” Amelia said, pushing at her grandpa’s chest to be set down. “But I’ll bet I can fit three desserts in my belly.” She lifted her pajama top and patted it.