by Cari Quinn
“So, is this your punishment? Did Regan relegate you to kitchen duty?”
“Dad put me on restriction. Three weeks. I’m not to be out of a Murphy’s sight unless I’m sleeping or peeing.”
Brodie had to glance away to stop from laughing. “Regan’s keeping an eye on you, then.”
“Finn.” Maura’s knuckles went white before the tip of the pencil snapped. “I’m staying out of the way. Regan doesn’t want me here.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” Brodie said, but as the words left his mouth, he could see Maura believed it. The young woman radiated anger and frustration, but only hints of it seeped in to her drawing; as if she could filter her emotions. That took a special kind of talent. “Do you mind if I look at your book?”
“Why?” Maura looked at him with all the suspicion a sixteen-year-old could muster.
“Because I’m an artist and I like to see other people’s work.” He held out his hand.
Maura stared at him for a long moment before sliding the notebook across the table.
He opened it up and started at the beginning. She started to grab it back, but clenched her fists and drew her hands into her lap, trying to look anywhere but at him as he looked at each illustration with a critical eye. “You thinking about art school?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“You should.” Growing up first on the streets in Miami and then spending significant time in graffiti and tattoo culture first in New York and most recently, San Francisco, he’d seen his share of undiscovered illustrative talent from coast to coast. It took natural ability and artistic discipline and there was a wealth of undiscovered talent from coast to coast. But few had the natural control and eye he recognized in Maura’s work. She wasn’t just good. She was gifted.
“Art doesn’t get anyone anywhere.” Maura’s sullen attitude had returned and it was all Brodie could do not to react as he stared into the face of one of the most glorious lions he’d ever seen put on paper. There was such realism in her work, such attention to detail and emotion.
“Art’s done pretty well by me.” He left her notebook open to the drawing she’d been working on. “It can do well by you, too, if you put your energy in the right place. “
“And what place would that be?” Maura asked in that same suspicious tone that made Brodie wonder if anyone had ever encouraged her abilities. Given Regan’s reaction to Maura’s tattoo related behavior last week, he had no doubt she cared about her sister. But caring for and understanding who Maura actually was were two separate issues. Maura continued to stare at him, but the hostility in her eyes had begun to fade. “Why do you care?”
Because a long time ago, someone had given him the same opportunity. Saved his life. Given him a purpose. Brodie had to bite his tongue from making the verbal admission. “Let’s just say I’m passing it on.”
“This is because of her, isn’t it?” Maura jerked her chin toward Regan as she swooped back into the kitchen. “You’re sucking up to me to try to get in to her pants, right?”
The crude comment took him off guard and while he was willing to give her some leeway when it came to purging her teenage angst, there was only so much disrespect he was willing to tolerate.
“I’ll give you that one for free.” Brodie made certain his tone ensured she understood she’d offended him. “But one’s all you get. I’m not going to lecture you, Maura. I’m sure you’ve had your fill of them. But I do know what it’s like to be misunderstood while you’re trying to find your way. What I do suggest is you stop complaining and wallowing over how much your life sucks. Trust me, a lot of people have it a lot worse. You’re going to have to take responsibility at some point if you want to make something of your life. Whether you see it or not, your family cares about you and they want the best for you. But if you do need someone to talk to, someone who might have an inkling of what you’re going through, you know where to find me.”
“Hey, Brodie.” Regan raced over, a thick paper bag in her hand that she set on the table right on top of Maura’s notebook.
Maura hissed like a cat and ripped her notebook free, grabbing for her pencils and jamming everything into her bag.
“What now?” Regan sighed.
“Nothing,” Maura muttered, hugging her bag against her chest as she tucked her hair behind her ear and raised skittish eyes to Brodie. “Thanks. Seamus is going to pick me up in a few minutes, so—” She walked away leaving Regan staring sternly at the wall in front of her, her jaw working overtime as she gnashed her teeth.
“That girl is going to put me in an early grave.”
“Maybe not,” Brodie said. “She might surprise you and make some changes.”
“Doubtful. Did she apologize to you at least?”
“She did,” Brodie assured her and tried not to notice the surprise on her face. “I accepted.”
“You really need to stop showing me what a good guy you are.” Regan gave him an uneasy smile. “I’m sorry. We haven’t had any time to talk. What was it you wanted to ask me?”
Brodie took a deep breath and got to his feet, wrapping his hand around the top of the bag for security. “Dinner. I wanted to know if you’d have dinner with me. This week. Sometime.” Somebody stop me. “Tonight, maybe? Or tomorrow. Whenever. Toshi can sit for Cilla.”
Regan couldn’t have looked more surprised if he’d kissed her—something he’d been thinking about doing since he’d first met her.
She ducked her head, the first indication of uncertainty he’d ever seen. “I don’t date.”
Well that kicked him in his...ego. “Anyone or just me?”
“I don’t have time for it, Brodie. Look.” She took a deep breath and his self-esteem stitched itself back together as he caught a hint of regret in her eyes. “We’re becoming pretty good friends. Isn’t that enough?”
It took all his effort not to say, “no” and she seemed to sense that.
“Okay, the truth is, I don’t want to get involved. With Anyone. My life is...” she waved her hand around the bustling kitchen. “Chaotic to say the least.”
“I have a five-year old. I know chaotic,” Brodie said with a shake of his head. “Try again.”
“You wouldn’t understand.” The ebullient confidence slipped a notch and Brodie wasn’t willing to let it disappear. He reached out his hand and stroked a single finger down the side of her cheek. When her face warmed under his touch and the light glowed in her eyes again, he smiled.
“Try me.”
“It would be a mistake to get involved,” she said but he could see there was a lot more to her refusal than she wanted to admit.
“Dinner’s not involved,” he interrupted and adjusted tactics. “It’s a meal you have to eat anyway and besides, I bet you can show me some hidden gems around Lantano Valley I have yet to discover. Aside from Lancaster Park. We see enough of that from the cottage house I bought.”
“You bought the MacAllister’s house?” Regan’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s a pretty little home.”
“Little being the operative word.” Sometimes Brodie wondered how he didn’t bash his head on the doorways. But Cilla had fallen in love with it the second she saw the storybook-quality house that Goldilocks would have been happy to call home.
“If it’s a tour guide you’re looking for—”
“I found what I’m looking for.” The admission slipped past any filter he might have and strangely enough, he didn’t wish the words back. She’d intrigued him from the moment they’d met; from that first sweep of red hair as she’d streaked into his studio. The energy and life-force she possessed intoxicated him, drew him in, and continued to hover long after she was out of his sight. “It’s just dinner, Regan. Somewhere different, somewhere that’s not here. Come on. When’s the last time you took some time away from your life?”
“I—” She frowned. “I have book club tonight.”
Brodie was in too far to back down now. “Then when?”
“
This looks like a rather intense conversation,” Finn said as he joined them, a dishtowel grasped between his hands. “Am I interrupting, I hope?” At Regan’s irritated glower his grin only widened. “Little brother’s prerogative. What’s going on?” he addressed the question to Brodie.
“I just asked your sister to dinner.”
“Let me guess,” Finn said with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “She told you she doesn’t date.”
“I don’t,” Regan said.
“She doesn’t,” Finn agreed before she could continue. “But she should. And it’s about time someone asked. She’s usually scared off any interested male counterparts by now so the fact you’re still here speaks volumes. How’s tomorrow night? She has that book club thing tonight. Book club is sacred,” he added with a false whisper.
“Finn,” Regan warned. “I’m working tomorrow—”
“I’ll cover.”
“I can’t ask you to do that.” Was that panicked look on Regan’s face for real? Was the idea of going out with him really so unappealing? Or was it the idea of doing something for herself she couldn’t come to terms with?
“You aren’t asking, I’m volunteering.” Finn’s expression mirrored the same determination Brodie had witnessed the other day when Regan stormed into his studio in defense of her sister. “You keep saying we need to take more responsibility around here and at the house. Consider this one time I’m listening to you.” Finn slung an arm around Regan’s shoulders and squeezed. “You sure you know what you’re getting in to with her?”
“I’d like to find out.” Brodie said.
“Excellent answer. I like you.” Finn reached out his other hand and slapped Brodie’s arm. “But there are three more of me and none of us will take kindly to our sister’s heart being messed with.”
"Understood." If anyone’s heart was being messed with, it was Brodie’s. All Regan had to do was smile and he was lost. Not to mention how confusing he found sibling, let alone family dynamics. “So, tomorrow evening?” He returned his attention to a dumbstruck Regan.
“Do I have a choice?”
“With me?” Brodie didn’t want any misunderstandings between them. If she honestly didn’t want to go out with him, he’d accept that. “Always.”
“Man’s got a way with words.” Finn hugged her again before dancing out of smacking range. “I can be here by five. See you tomorrow night, Ink Man.”
“Makes me sounds like Sponge Bob’s side kick,” Brodie muttered. “So.” He turned hopeful eyes on Regan, who sighed as if she’d just been sentenced to hard labor and kicked a significant sized hole in his self-esteem.
“Fine.” If she meant for her heavy sigh to put him off, she failed. If anything, he appreciated the drama. Something she had in common with Maura. “You can pick me up here around five and we’ll do...whatever?”
Brodie didn’t know why, but he grinned at her defeatist attitude. “Whatever sounds great.”
“Don’t expect this to become a thing.” The determination in her eyes did little to dim his hopes. “I meant what I said, Brodie. I don’t date.”
“Funny. Until I met you, I said the same thing. Gives us something in common.”
“Brodie?” She grabbed his arm as he headed toward the door, lunch securely in hand. “Did you mean what you said before, about Maura finding her way?”
“I did.” He knocked his finger under her chin. “I’ve been there, Regan. She just needs to find the right path.”
She blinked, that amazing dazed look floating across her features tugging at Brodie’s insides. He couldn’t resist the pull any longer. He had to know. He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers, the softness of her mouth was everything he’d thought it would be; everything he wanted it to be.
He brushed his mouth against hers one more time. “See you tomorrow.”
CHAPTER FIVE
“I know that look.” Audra MacGowan’s motherly tone blinked Regan out of yet another Brodie induced reverie.
“What?”
“That’s an “I’ve got me some man issues” expression.” Audra laughed. “You’ve been staring at the front of my refrigerator for the better part of five minutes.” Audra flipped the cardboard take-out box filled with sandwiches closed and pushed it aside so she could perch on the edge of the large table in the back room of Pages Unlimited, Lantano Valley’s independent book store. “Given that appliance is older than I am and not nearly as interesting.” Audra inclined her head so her massive tumble of blond waves cascaded around her shoulder, intense blue eyes wide with amused interest. “What’s his name?”
“Who?” Regan’s forced laugh came out more like a deflated snort. “I don’t have time for a man.” Especially not a man as potentially all-consuming as Brodie. Someday, maybe, but she’d meant what she’d told him at the pub. There wasn’t room in her life for anything—or anyone—else.
“Uh-huh.” Audra crossed her arms and pinned Regan with a look that Regan had sworn never to be on the receiving end of. Audra might be only a few years older than her, but when it came to taking care of her friends, this mother hen was more than perceptive; she was practically psychic. “No woman has time for a man unless it’s the right man,” Audra said. “Come on, Regan. I’m running out of friends to live vicariously through. First Cassidy bites the dating dust thanks to Ethan and then Loni goes and lands herself one of the art world’s most underrated sculptors. That leaves you and Ella to entertain me and don’t tell Ella, but she’s more likely to land on a rose bush than a man at this point.” She knocked her shoulder against Regan’s as Regan dipped her head to hide her smile. “I’ve known you for more than five years and this is the first time I’ve ever seen you this distracted.”
“I’m not distracted.” Regan lifted her beer to her mouth, ready to take a long drink only to have Audra’s hand lock around her wrist. “Audra—” she warned.
“Unless you’ve developed a taste for aged balsamic vinegar.” Audra pried Regan’s fingers from the salad dressing bottle and moved her hand to the amber one beside it. “There you go. Much better. Now you can drink.”
Regan glared at her over the edge of the bottle and drank large gulps of courage. “Brodie Crawford.” She said his name in a rush, as if maybe she could avoid the flush of warmth that seemed to accompany any thoughts she might have of the man. “Thanks to my brother, we have a date. Tomorrow night.”
“Brodie Crawford.” Audra sat back, brows knitting before she snapped her fingers. “Tall guy, really lush hair to about here?" She waved her hands just above her shoulder. "Looks like he could be a bodyguard or something? Major artwork on his arms. Cute little girl, um. Cilla, I think? They were in here a few days ago, left with about a quarter of my children’s section. Do you think five is too young for Harry Potter?”
“No one is too young for Harry Potter.” The idea Brodie filled his daughter’s life with books putting another mark in the positive column. Damn. “And yes, that’s him. He opened the tattoo par—er, studio, across from the pub.” She needed to get up to date on the jargon of his profession if they were going to be...friends.
“Ah. You know, single fathers who dote on their daughters can be incredibly sexy.”
“Don’t let Jack here you say that,” Regan warned, referring to Audra’s Marine husband. “I don’t think he’d appreciate the competition.”
“Jack doesn’t hear me say much of anything these days,” Audra said with a touch more vehemence than Regan was used to hearing in her friend’s voice. “Hard to do when you’re half-way around the world.”
“So you were able to find out where he’s stationed?” For the past few weeks Audra had been given the runaround when it came to where her husband’s whereabouts.
“Not stationed,” Audra said. “He’s officially retired according to the conversation I was finally able to have with his former CO. But apparently Jack doesn’t find home appealing anymore. Not that he’s had the balls to tell me. He keeps finding excuses to stay a
way.”
The beer churned in Regan’s stomach. “Just how bad have things gotten between you?” For as long as Regan had known Audra it had always been Audra and Jack. High school sweethearts, her with dreams of owning her own bookstore and him determined to serve his country in the Marines. They were, as far as Regan was concerned, the perfect couple. Until the last few months, she’d never once seen anything other than an ideal marriage and an example she could never hope to emulate.
“Bad enough that I’m considering my options.” The melancholy that settled around them lifted as Audra got her to feet and grabbed Regan’s shoulders, gave her a hard shake. “It’s about time you got out from behind that shield you’ve kept around yourself, Regan. If you weren’t going to do something about it, I’m happy one of your intelligent brothers stepped up. There’s more than work and your family.”
“I’m going out to dinner, not eloping.”
“Let’s see how the date goes,” Audra grinned. “And that first kiss.”
There was no stopping the blush from enveloping her face or the memory of Brodie’s mouth on hers for that brief moment. Or from wishing the kiss had lasted longer.
“Aha!” Audra laughed, the sound so musical it had Regan’s lips curving. “I knew it! You’re a step ahead. That good was it?”
“What was good?” Loni Talbot sauntered into the room with a large pink pastry box in her hands, Cassidy Wells and Ella Kalokos, the other members of the Lantano Valley book club, nipping at last year’s designer heels.
“Nothing,” Regan said with a warning glare at Audra, but it was too late. Audra was giddy with distraction.
“Regan kissed a boy,” Audra said in a tone that flashed Regan back to third grade.
“Wow,” Loni said in a throwback tone to her mean-girl days. Her shaggy blond hair framed her socialite perfect face in a stylish albeit it ‘I haven’t made it to the salon in a few weeks’ kind of bob. She was adjusting to living on a budget and not out of her parents’ pockets. “Sorry. I meant, how long—”