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Hunks, Hammers, and Happily Ever Afters

Page 25

by Cari Quinn


  “We’re still working on her social skills,” Cassidy said in lieu of an apology as she dropped three bags of chips on the table beside the sandwiches and glared at her one time enemy. “She’s a work in progress, aren’t you Loni?”

  “Looks like Loni’s been doing some kissing of her own.” Regan indicated the grey handprint on Loni’s jeans encased butt. “Just how much progress are you making with Patrick these days, Loni?”

  “What?” Loni looked over her shoulder, then grabbed her backside, but instead of being angry or irritated—both of which Regan expected—Loni grinned, shrugged, and gave her butt a little shake. “Badge of honor. He’s um, really good with his hands.”

  “Speaking of hands.” Cassidy hopped on the table with a smile that stretched from ear to ear. The computer guru had spent the last couple of months transforming before their eyes, moving from Gothic-girl grunge to happily ever after prospects with Ethan. Despite Cassidy’s violent upbringing, Regan had always believed there was more to Cassidy than attitude, sarcasm, and a penchant for weekend-long online gaming sessions with anonymous strangers. “Ella, do you have something you’d like to share?”

  “No.” Ella’s round face ducked and her hippie long blonde hair draped around her face, but not enough to hide the shy smile that appeared. At twenty-three, Ella was the youngest and most soft-spoken of the group. “Cass, you promised.”

  “I promised not to tell.” Cassidy grabbed a carrot stick from the veggie tray and bit in. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t force you to come clean. Ella has an admirer. He left a sad looking African Violet on the front porch for her yesterday morning. I nearly tripped over it.”

  “Tripping aide.” Audra patted Cassidy’s shoulder so she’d hop off the table. “That’s a lovely gesture. But don’t feel obligated to share any details about him if you don’t want to.”

  “Hey!” Regan frowned. “How come I didn’t get a choice?”

  “Stephen’s just a friend,” Ella said, her soft voice tinged with what Regan could only describe as uncertainty. “The flower was a congratulations gift, that’s all. Sheila Tremayne asked Buttons and Bows to provide the flowers for Alcina Oliver’s eighty-fifth birthday party in a couple of weeks.”

  “Sheila Tremayne asked you to provide the flowers,” Cassidy corrected. “You’ve done wonders with that nursery since you became the manager. Take credit for it. Trust me, the Tremaynes can make you in this town.”

  Ella’s face flushed. “She said they’re still looking for someone to do the centerpieces for the Pediatric Cancer Treatment Center’s opening gala.”

  “Sounds like a test run to me,” Loni said. “Maybe you should talk to the owners about opening a flower shop on site.”

  “Maybe.” Ella shrugged, but Regan could see the gears begin to turn in the young woman’s head. Ambition was something she never would have equated with the one-time-wall-flower who was only now coming in to her own. Then again, compared to Regan, Ella’s social life may as well be a feature story in Cosmo.

  “It was very nice of Stephen to acknowledge your hard work,” Audra said. “And Cassidy’s right. Getting in with the Tremaynes can open all kinds of doors, right, Cassidy? Good for you, Ella. And flowers already?” Audra gestured to the others to grab a portion of dinner and follow her into the store where she deposited the box of sandwiches on what was normally a computer workstation before she turned the store sign to closed. “Looks like someone’s getting ahead of you, Regan.”

  “Do I strike you as a flower kind of girl?” Regan downed the last of her beer. She’d much rather get tickets to a baseball game or MMA fight.

  “Sounds like they’re on equal footing to me,” Loni said and ripped open a bag of Barbeque chips and dived in. “One gets flowers, one gets kissed.”

  “Patrick ever give you flowers?” Cassidy asked as she dropped into one of the straight-back chairs.

  “There’s more to life than flowers,” Loni said with a sigh. “But I’ll drop that hint on him tomorrow morning. So who is this Stephen, Ella?”

  “Stephen Liatos. From Liatos Landscaping,” Ella said.

  Regan pinched her lips into a line to stop from smiling. There was no hiding the feminine interest shining in Ella’s eyes.

  “He’s a landscape designer?” Loni’s eyes went wide as she gave an appreciative nod. “Well, if that isn’t a perfect match—”

  “It was just a flower.” Ella shrugged, her daisy yellow sweater bunching around narrow shoulders. Regan had always considered Ella, well, for want of a better term, fragile. But in the last couple of months, she’d broken free of the expectations of her traditional Greek parents and ventured into her own life.

  Regan had made a promise to her mother, to her siblings, to herself. She wouldn’t abandon them. She’d vowed to put the family, the business, everyone’s future first even if it was in front of her own.

  All the more reason to nip whatever this thing with Brodie was in the bud. One dinner would be it. She couldn’t afford for affection, or desire, to take hold and as much as she enjoyed Cilla—she held a particular affinity and weakness for little girls without a mom—Regan had raised and was still raising her family. At this point, she wasn’t sure she wanted to do it again.

  “Can we talk about who Regan’s been kissing?” Ella shifted the topic with enough ease that Regan knew she’d been taking cagy lessons from Cassidy.

  “Brodie Crawford,” Audra announced. “They have a date tomorrow night.”

  “For the love of—” Regan was going to need another beer. “Are we all going to out each other all night?”

  “Well, I don’t know about you, but I didn’t get a chance to finish the book for this meeting.” Cassidy grinned. “If I’m alone in that—”

  “You’re not,” Loni said as she uncorked a bottle of Riesling. “Ella?”

  Ella shook her head.

  “Sounds like a night of gossip and girl talk ahead to me,” Audra said. “But first.” Audra walked over and retrieved the glass votive from the frame on the wall. “We’ve been a little lax including Serena in recent weeks, but I think she’d appreciate the shift in topic this evening.”

  Regan’s eyes misted as she and the rest of the book club stared at the lighted candle they kept in memory of their friend and founding member who had died of breast cancer the year before.

  “A toast,” Regan said as her throat tightened. “To friends lost but not forgotten.”

  “And to the ones still here,” Audra added. “Thank you, Regan. Now let’s eat. And you can tell us all about Brodie.”

  ~*~

  If Regan didn’t know last night that she shouldn’t have had that third beer, she sure as hell did when she slipped on her sunglasses ten minutes after she got out of bed.

  The pounding in her skull was loud enough to wake half the dead in Lantano Valley cemetery, but the pain was nothing compared to the laser hot sun shooting like laser beams through her eyeballs. Misjudgments and hangovers, however, couldn’t stand in the way of a typical Regan Murphy day. A very long, full, nerve-wracking day. Culminating in dinner with Brodie.

  A date. She had a date. Her stomach did a little jump and curved her lips into a reluctant smile as she showered and dressed.

  “Morning,” she murmured as she strode into the kitchen and found the kitchen table covered by typical early morning chaos and bee-lined for the Advil. “I see Liam’s giving the old Irish breakfast a go again.” She stopped behind Fallon and dropped a kiss on the top of her sister’s blond head, earning a grin before Fallon dipped her nose in to today’s choice of book, a biography on Abraham Lincoln. Regan rubbed a finger against her temple, wondering where Fallon got the brain capacity she possessed. The little girl had practically come out of the womb with a book in her hand and questions on her lips.

  “Nothing like a pile of eggs, bacon, sausage, and potatoes to cure what ails you, right, Sis?” Liam waggled rust red eyebrows at her as he gestured toward her sunglasses with their mother’s ancient
metal spatula.

  Regan’s empty stomach rolled as she popped two pieces of bread in the toaster. “Keep your voice down or I’ll bash you over the head with Ma’s rolling pin.” That way they could both have a headache.

  “If you can find the rolling pin.” Liam cracked another couple of eggs into the sizzling bacon grease. “Finn says you have a date tonight.”

  “Finn has a big mouth.”

  “That I do,” Finn said as he joined them by dropping into the chair beside Fallon and plucked the book out of her hand, set it on the far side of the table.

  “Hey!” Fallon frowned and grabbed for it, but Finn pushed her back in her chair.

  “You know the rules. Only eyeballs at the table. Books, phones, and other electronic devices are no go until you’re out the door.” He leaned back until his chair balanced on two feet and glared at Regan. “You’re slipping, Sis. They’re your rules after all.”

  Regan was tired of rules. No. She sipped caffeine laden coffee and closed her eyes. She was tired of enforcing the rules. Everyone always expected her to be the voice of control, of reason, and the decision maker. What she wouldn’t give to surrender her super power for a day. With everything else going on—like making sure the pub was a continued success and the boys’ tuition was paid—she was picking her battles. Fallon with her face in the book didn’t even register.

  “Well, look who’s up with the sun.” The surprise, nay, shock in Finn’s voice echoed everyone’s sentiments in the kitchen. “Good morning, Maura.”

  “Morning.”

  Regan remained where she was while Maura circled the kitchen and headed to the refrigerator for the pitcher of orange juice. “You look nice,” Regan said but the second her voice hit the room, Maura’s body went stiff and her shoulders tightened. Regan sighed. Still giving her the silent treatment. Fine.

  Her sister might still be wearing jeans, but they were clean, and the plain black t-shirt she wore reminded Regan of the uniforms they wore at the pub. She’d tied her hair up and her makeup was minimal, giving her the youthful look a girl her age should have. “Plans today?”

  “Maura’s getting a job,” Fallon announced with enough pride that had Regan smiling as Maura shushed her. There was nothing like little sister admiration. Sadness washed over Regan’s heart. She remembered when Maura had turned idolizing eyes on her once upon a time, but those days were long gone. Somehow, at some point, she and her sister had drifted apart and for the life of her, Regan couldn’t figure out how to get back to her.

  “Shut up, squirt.” Maura knocked her hand against Fallon’s arm.

  “Where?” Regan had to give Finn credit for not sounding as shocked as his expression conveyed.

  “I don’t want to say,” Maura said without looking at Regan as she took a seat at the table. “In case it doesn’t work out. It’s art related.”

  “Of course it is,” Liam said. “It only makes sense. It’s your calling.”

  Regan frowned into her coffee, wishing she’d gotten up early enough to brew it herself. Liam always made it too weak. She caught Maura looking at her, a flash of pain crossing her face before she set her jaw and narrowed her eyes.

  “Brodie thinks I have talent.” The defensive tone in her sister’s voice struck Regan dead center of her heart. “He doesn’t think art is a waste of time.”

  “Who said it was?” Liam asked as he set a plate of bacon and potatoes—Maura hated eggs—in front of her. “We’ve always said you’re incredibly gifted.”

  “Not everyone,” Maura muttered with another sly look at Regan. “It’s not that big a deal. It probably won’t happen anyway.”

  “Anytime you take responsibility for your life it’s a big deal,” Finn said. “I’m proud of you, Maura. I hope you make a real go of it.”

  Maura shrugged.

  “Anyone seen Pop this morning?” Regan asked, keeping her mouth shut so as not to disrupt the force that was Maura sulking. Brodie was right. Maura did have talent, but he didn’t know wherever Maura went, disaster was certain to follow.

  “Still sleeping.” Still wearing his sleeping sweats and tank, Seamus, the mutant of the family with pitch dark hair and equally dark eyes dropped into his usual chair at the table before bracing his chin in his hand. “What’s with the glasses?” He asked Regan as she pulled her toast out, the sound of the knife scraping butter over the surface setting her teeth on edge.

  “Book club,” Liam joked and Seamus said something that sounded like, “ah.” “Not the first time it’s resulted in a hangover,” Liam continued. “What exactly goes on at this club anyway?” He air quoted club.

  “You’ll never know.” Regan patted his arm as she took her seat at the head of the table opposite Finn. Her head might never forgive her, but she wouldn't give up her club—or her friends—for the world. Despite their incessant teasing. “I might be out late tonight, too, so it’s up to one of you to get dinner on the table.”

  “Can we have pizza?” Fallon asked as she picked at her eggs, poking the runny yolks until they ran over the rest of her breakfast like a gooey tidal wave.

  “Liam’s in charge here tonight, so you can ask him,” Finn said before he turned stern eyes on Regan. “Wait. What do you mean might be late?”

  Regan took a page from Maura’s behavior manual and shrugged as Liam handed out the last of the breakfast plates. She swallowed hard as she stared at the unappetizing eggs swimming in grease. Perhaps it was time for Liam to get some cooking lessons at the pub.

  “You’re going on that date with Brodie,” Finn pointed his fork at her as Finn nudged his narrow hip against her arm. “I like him. Seems like a good, honest guy who’s genuinely interested in you. And you can’t hide behind us forever.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.” Regan hid her frown behind her coffee mug.

  “Yes, you do,” Seamus said. “We’ll only let you live in denial for so long, Regan.”

  Regan didn’t miss the knowing looks her three brothers exchanged. She narrowed her eyes, looking for answers in their normally open expressions. “What’s going on with you all? What are you up to? And where’s Des?” Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen the oldest Murphy son for the last few days.

  “Already at work,” Finn said. “He just got a promotion at Oliver Technologies, but it means serious overtime since they’re getting ready for their annual stock holders meeting.”

  “That’s good news.” Hopefully a promotion meant a raise. She could do with some extra financial help around here. There might be days she resented not being able to follow through with her own dreams, but seeing her brothers—and hopefully her sisters—fulfill their own gave her a special sense of accomplishment not to mention a sense of pride. Des especially deserved it, riding herd on the family whenever she’d been stuck at work. She knew the time was coming when Des along with the rest of her brothers would leave the house, but she was happy to have them stick around as long as they wanted. Besides, when they did leave, her work was really going to begin. Especially when it came to their father.

  For now, she could rely on the Murphy boys to keep an eye on Cormac—they seemed to understand him better than she did, but even she could see their frustration begin to kick in whenever the subject of their father came up.

  She looked around the table, watching her siblings dive into their breakfast with as much gusto as they dived into life. It didn’t matter that she didn’t have a romantic life. It couldn’t. Every accomplishment was another notch in the promise she’d made Ma. She loved her family, too much, some would probably say, and while there were times she wished she didn’t feel so utterly alone, in the end, everything she’d done would be worth it.

  That didn’t mean she didn’t feel trapped at times.

  Doubt circled like a restless, caged lion, unable to settle, unable to fully relax and yet Regan couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have someone by her side, always at her back, putting her first for a change.

  So
meone like...

  “Nothing’s written in stone about tonight,” Regan said to get her mind off Brodie. “Something might pop up and I’ll have to cancel.”

  “Nothing’s going to pop up. We’ve made sure of it,” Liam said. “I’m coming in to the pub at eleven and Seamus said he could be there around three, right, Seam?”

  “Uh-huh.” Seamus had already plowed through half his breakfast. “I’m caddying at the club until two. Just have to shower and change and I’ll be there. I’ll pick Fallon up from science camp on my way and Liam can bring her home when he’s done.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” Maura chimed in with more than a hint of resentment in her voice. “I can take care of myself.”

  “As you’ve proven time and again,” Finn said and gave her a look that had Maura shutting up. “I’ll be in at five, just in time for Brodie to pick you up,” Finn said with a matter-of-factness that reminded Regan so much of their mother her heart ached. “So unless you can come up with some other excuse—”

  “Fine.” Regan knew when she was beat. But going out to dinner with Brodie didn’t mean anything other than a night off work. It wasn’t fair to get either of their hopes up. Yes, she liked him. He was seriously sexy and that smile of his had invaded more of her thoughts than she was comfortable with and thinking of how he was with Cilla just about turned Regan into a puddle of goo. Practicality and life, however, told her whatever chemistry they shared wouldn’t be enough to go anywhere.

  Or would it?

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Toshi, you chose a great day to take the morning off.” Brodie was lucky to get the open sign turned on by nine. He’d burned the toast—twice—and forgotten to charge his cell phone over night. Add to that Cilla’s pinging around the house like a ricocheting laser beam, overly excited about the day camp’s planned outing to the sea life rescue center in Malibu and her renewed and very vocal desire for a pet of some kind, he was just about at his wit's end by seven thirty a.m.

  But it was yet another call from his ex-father-in-law that shot Brodie and his day completely off kilter and culminated with Brodie disconnecting the phone.

 

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