His Brother's Fiancée

by Vivian Wood

  “Why are you getting all these vegetables?” Aiden asked. He wrinkled his nose.

  “What do you care?” she snapped. “You’re not eating them.”

  “You got that right,” he said.

  4

  Cade

  It took everything he had not to slam the door behind him. Dr. Hersh was nice enough, but he got straight to the point.

  The older Asian man peered over a pair of rimless glasses and made Cade feel like he could read Cade’s darkest secrets.

  “Tell me about the incident with your team in Montana,” Dr. Hersh said within two minutes of Cade sitting down.

  “Crew,” Cade had corrected.

  “Alright,” Dr. Hersh replied. He leaned back in his camel-colored chair and waited.

  Cade shrugged. “There’s not much to say. I’m guessing you have the reports from it.”

  “I do,” the doctor said. “But I want to hear what you have to say about it.”

  “Not anything new that isn’t in the reports.” Cade looked around the office. It was clinical and sterile.

  “Can you tell me the emotions you’re feeling now when you think about it?” the doctor asked.

  Cade looked at him bluntly. “Sad,” he said.

  “Sad,” the doctor repeated. He held Cade’s gaze and didn’t make any notes. “Anything else? Anger? Confusion? Guilt?”

  “Why should I feel guilty?” Cade snapped.

  “I don’t know. I’m just giving you some options. Why don’t we talk about another subject for awhile?”

  Yeah. Why don’t we?

  “Is there anything in particular you’d like to discuss?” Dr. Hersh asked.

  “No.”

  “Alright. How about your romantic life? Many people have strong feelings about that. Is there anyone special in your life?”

  Cade barked out a laugh. “Hardly.”

  “You seem upset about that.”

  “Why should I be upset?”

  “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”

  Cade sighed. “You just started working with the firehouse, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Ever had a firefighter … patient before?” Cade asked. He hated to use that word.

  “Not before my contract with the firehouse, no.”

  “Then maybe you don’t know, but firefighters don’t really have a problem getting women.”

  “I see.” This time the doctor did make a note.

  Cade shifted. That wasn’t the response he’d expected. “So … if you’re asking if I’m hard up for a date or whatever, the answer’s no.”

  “That wasn’t what I asked,” the doctor said. “Why do you think that’s what you inferred?”

  “I don’t know,” Cade said, exasperated as he crossed his arms.

  “So, I’m led to believe you’ve had a generous amount of sexual partners,” Dr. Hersh said.

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you think you’re afraid of intimacy?”

  Cade glared at him. “Didn’t I just tell you that I’ve slept with a lot of women?”

  “That wasn’t what I asked. Sex and intimacy can be mutually exclusive. And I’m getting the message that you lean heavily toward the sex-only side.”

  Cade seethed below the surface, but he gritted his teeth and refused to say anything more.

  “Do you have any interest in returning to the subject about your team’s deaths in Montana?”

  “No,” Cade said coldly. He didn’t bother to correct him this time.

  “Alright. Mr. Charles, I’m going to recommend medical leave for you.” Dr. Hersh began writing notes quickly on his pad.

  “Medical leave? What? But I haven’t even started at this company yet!”

  “Mr. Charles, let me make this clear. You can either continue to see me, or you can rethink your position with the company. It’s your choice.”

  “You really think they’re going to pay for me to sit around and do nothing but talk to some shrink about my feelings?”

  “Actually, that’s exactly what the fire captain has told me he’s willing to do. And I prefer the term psychiatrist.”

  Cade let out a heavy breath as he carefully clicked the door shut behind him. “Mr. Charles?” the receptionist asked. “Would you like to schedule your next appointment now or—”

  “I’ll call you,” Cade said as he grabbed his jacket. He felt the dark storm that brewed inside him begin to grow.

  As Cade slammed his car door and started toward his new, tiny apartment, he spotted Lily across the street burdened with three shopping bags. Something about seeing her lifted his spirits. She nearly tripped on the uneven sidewalk, stopped and glared at the ground.

  “Hey! What’s up?” he asked as he rolled up beside her.

  She made a face. “My car crapped out again, so I’m walking home.”

  “Walking? In those?” he asked and looked pointedly at her heels.

  “Oh, yeah,” she said. “There was a special event at the bakery today, and you know French men. ‘A woman should always be in heels.’ At least when they’re representing Jean-Michel’s croissants, at least.”

  “I actually don’t know French men that well. But can I give you a lift?”

  She looked skeptical and shifted her weight to the side.

  “Come on,” he said. “It’s on my way, anyway.”

  Lily sighed and nodded. As Cade leaned over to push open the door, he noticed the top button of her blouse had come undone from carrying the bags. Beneath the ironed white shirt he could see the top of a light pink lace bra.

  Kind of like the one she was wearing when we hooked up, he thought.

  He could still clearly imagine the pinkness of her nipple, how it had hardened instantly when he wrapped his lips around it.

  Cade took the bags from her and set them on the small bench seat in the back. As she climbed in, he tried his best not to stare at her long legs that jutted out from the fitted black skirt.

  Lily looked at him, embarrassed, as she realized her top was undone and tried to discreetly button it while she buckled herself in.

  He stared straight ahead and clenched the wheel tightly.

  “Where to?” he asked.

  “Oh. Right. You don’t know where I live anymore. Southeast Hoyt,” she said.

  “Fancy.”

  “Not really,” she said. “You’ll see.”

  Lily chattered nervously as he made his way toward the Richmond neighborhood. She talked about the events coming up at the bakery, Jean-Michel’s obsession with cleaning up the graffiti on the building, and plans for Easter brunch with friends, but Cade couldn’t find anything to contribute.

  “Well, this is it,” she said.

  “You live at a mechanic shop?” he asked.

  “No! I live in the apartment above it.”

  “Oh. Isn’t it noisy?”

  “During the day, probably. But by the time I get home they’re usually done.”

  Cade reached back for the bags, uncertain whether to offer to carry them up or not. It would be the polite thing to do, but would she think he had ulterior motives?

  “Would you like to come up?” she asked so quickly it sounded like a single word.

  “What?”

  “I mean, I was going to order some Chinese takeout. So…”

  “Didn’t you just get a bunch of groceries?”

  “Not really. This is all stuff to practice patisseries at home.”

  “What happened to the veggie and coffee kick you were on?”

  She blushed slightly. “It’s a cheat day.”

  Cade was hesitant. “I don’t know…”

  “Oh, come on,” she said, suddenly insistent. “We can order from that place you used to love. Yan Yan, right?”

  She remembered that?

  “Okay,” he said. “You know I can’t say no to Yan Yan’s.”

  It’s not like you have anything else to look forward to at home besides a microwave dinner.

>   He followed Lily up the narrow staircase, the smell of grease in the air. Her ass was right in his face, swaying rhythmically side to side. When Cade realized he’d started to stiffen, he forced himself to look at his feet.

  When she opened the door, it was to a warm, cozy apartment worlds away from the dark stairwell. And it was totally her.

  She tried to tidy up as she ushered him toward the kitchen.

  “It’s not much,” she said. “Just a one-bedroom.”

  “It’s great,” he said as he set down the bags, and he meant it.

  The main room was set up as a combination kitchen, living room, and dining room with an ornate round wooden table painted and distressed in white. A makeshift chandelier hung overhead, a circle of faux crystals that encased the bare lightbulb on the ceiling.

  “Creative,” he said.

  “Jean-Michel calls it ‘French shabby chic,’” she said as she kicked off her heels.

  “You two are pretty close, huh?” he asked. Cade felt a tug of jealousy.

  “Yeah, I guess,” she said. “I mean, he’s teaching me how to actually bake like a French chef.”

  “You didn’t get enough of that in culinary school? You went up to Portland, right?”

  “Ugh, it’s nothing like what he knows.”

  Over her shoulder, he could see her bedroom. The canopy bed was covered in fluffy white down comforters with oversized knit baby pink throw blankets.

  “Want me to look up the menu and call it in?” he asked. Anything to stop thinking about what could happen in that room just a few feet away.

  “Sure. I’m going to change. Be right back,” she said, and disappeared into the bedroom.

  He pulled up the menu, happy to see his favorite combination was still there.

  “Hey, Lily? You know what you want?” he called.

  She poked her head out of the bedroom door. “Uh, some kind of spicy shrimp and noodle something,” she said.

  “Okay.”

  She reemerged just as he’d placed the order, drowning in a huge Le Cordon Bleu sweatshirt and tiny shorts that could pass for underwear.

  “What do you call that outfit?” he asked. He had to work to swallow the lump in his throat.

  “Comfy clothes,” she said. “You try working in a starched shirt and heels all day. Wine?”

  “Uh… sure.”

  He watched as she hunted for a bottle in the cupboard. As she stretched on her toes, the shorts hiked up even higher. Cade could see the swell of her cheeks as they peeked out from below the lacy trim of the shorts.

  “I have red and white. But the white’s not cold.”

  “Either,” he said. “Doesn’t matter.”

  Lily opened the red and poured two glasses.

  “How much do I owe you for dinner?” she asked as she took a generous swallow.

  “What? Nothing, don’t be weird.”

  “I’m not! Come on, you already gave me a ride home.”

  “Lily, it’s Chinese takeout. It’s hardly dinner at the Joel Palmer House.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not some damsel in distress, you know. I know you’re used to rescuing helpless women from balconies or whatever, but—”

  “Hey, sit down and behave or I’ll cancel the order.”

  “Fine,” she said with a fake huff and draped herself across the couch.

  They sat side by side on the loveseat, the only seating option besides the two chairs at the dining table. She was silent, but her eyes stayed lit with defiance.

  Cade was drawn to that rebellion more than he’d like to admit. “So, tell me. What’s Lily Hammond been up to since 2015?”

  She tucked a stray lock behind her ear and took another sip of wine. “Finished up at Oregon State, went to culinary school, then came back here. That’s about it.”

  “Why back here? Portland doesn’t do it for you?”

  “Honestly? I missed Elijah and Aiden.”

  “Really?”

  She laughed. “I know, right?”

  “I’m guessing the Salem party scene has livened up though. Or at least I hope so.”

  “You’re asking the wrong person,” she said.

  “You get all your partying done at OSU?”

  “Sure,” she said with a laugh. “But no, if I’m being honest I don’t have much going on with my social life.”

  “Yeah. Me either,” he admitted.

  “Yeah, right.”

  “I’m serious!”

  “Okay, Mr. Morn—never mind.”

  “It’s okay, I know what you were going to say. So. No boyfriend?”

  She blushed. “I used to have one, but—”

  Cade leaned toward her. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. But it ended. Actually, he dumped me as soon as he, um…”

  “He what?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Never mind.”

  “It does now. You have to tell me. You can’t leave me hanging like that.”

  “Well, I sort of… refused to have sex with him? And as soon as I did, he broke up with me. And—God, I don’t know why I’m telling you this? Anyway, like two days later I saw him out with another girl.”

  “Well, that sucks,” Cade said. “He’s an asshole. Want me to kick his ass?”

  Lily laughed. “No! It was awhile ago, anyway. And there… well, there hasn’t been anyone serious since.”

  “No? No one?”

  “No one,” she repeated as she stared into her glass.

  A sharp knock came at the door.

  Lily pulled the small coffee table forward as Cade opened up the food. He handed her a pair of chopsticks and they started eating.

  “So,” Lily said as she dug into the shrimp lo mein, “what’s your deal?”

  “My deal?”

  She blushed. “Your deal with dating.”

  He felt a warm tightness in his chest.

  Is she still interested in this topic? He stole a glance at her amazing legs, taut and slender.

  “Well, there’s been no one serious since ever, really.”

  “Ah. Too bad.”

  He could feel her eyes on him. Cade saw his own desire reflected in them.

  What would it be like to just grab her, wrap those legs around my waist? Press her up against the wall, kiss her neck?

  Would she moan his name? If he reached for those tiny shorts, would they be damp?

  Cade snapped himself out of the fantasy. That couldn’t happen, for a number of reasons. Her brothers would beat the living daylights out of him, and that didn’t even touch on the destruction of their friendship. Cade cleared his throat.

  “Do you have some water?”

  Lily hopped up to get it. As she bent over and leaned into the refrigerator, he couldn’t stop staring. As she returned with the glass, he reached for it too quickly. Cold water spilled down his shirt.

  “Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” she said. “Here, I’ll go get a towel.”

  She raced to the kitchenette and back, then started to blot at his chest. It was innocent, but her touch was too much for him to take. Cade leaned forward and kissed her.

  She wasn’t expecting it, but her body responded instantly. Just as she began to open her mouth, she froze and stepped back.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I’m… shit, I’m sorry,” he said. “I need to go.”

  Lily looked startled as Cade jumped up and bolted toward the door.

  As he started up the truck, he berated himself.

  Fucking stupid! Now she’ll tell her brothers… God, what if she tells them everything? There’s a lot to tell…

  He’d made a mess and he hadn’t even been in town a week. He cursed as he pulled away and sped toward home.

  5

  Lily

  “You guys want lamb or beef?” Lily called from the kitchen.

  Elijah called for beef and Aiden for lamb, and Lily rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’m the tiebreaker. Lamb it is.”

  “Lamb’s disgusting,”
Elijah yelled back.

  “Yeah, well, then don’t eat it,” Lily replied.

  “Hey, Lil?” Aiden asked. He appeared in the doorway just as Lily began to layer the lasagna. “Cade just texted and he’s coming over. There gonna be enough for four?”

  She blushed at Cade’s name and nodded toward the dish.

  It had only been a couple of days since the kiss, and she could still taste him on her lips. Lily slid the dish into the oven, squeezed into the tiny kitchen of Elijah and Aiden’s shared apartment, and set the timer.

  Maybe the kiss was totally out of the blue, she thought to herself as she put away the ingredients. But I can’t say I haven’t been wanting it ever since he showed up at Wilde’s.

  Hell, she’d wanted it since she was thirteen years old and the first hint of that crush blossomed.

  Until he’d freaked out, of course. She couldn’t deny the look of shame that had spread across his face. Cade couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

  You should have said something, she thought as she loaded the prep utensils into the dishwasher. But at the time, it had all happened so fast, and no words came.

  Lily sighed as she slumped onto the couch, a handful of shaved gourmet parmesan in her hand. Slowly, she slid the slivers into her mouth and pressed the rich sharpness against her tongue.

  At the opposite end, Elijah was glued to the television. Aiden scrolled through his phone as he hunched on the old wingback chair that used to belong to their mom.

  “Can’t we watch something else?” she groaned as a cricket match slowly unfolded on the screen. “You’re not even Indian or English or whatever.”

  “Go home if you wanna watch something else,” Elijah said, though it was an automatic reply.

  She knew he was joking, but Cade coming put her on edge. “I just cooked for you guys!” she snapped.

  “What’s your problem?” Elijah asked as he finally tore his eyes away from the television. “Fine, if you care so much, put on The Great British Baking Show or whatever it is you watch.”

  “Nothing, sorry,” she mumbled.

  “Thanks for lunch,” Elijah said, his form of an apology. “Even if it’s gross sheep. Glad to know you don’t have a problem, though.”

  She laughed and threw a piece of the parmesan at him. “I have a problem with you,” she said.