by Lex Martin
A quick glance to my ratty watch tells me I have forty minutes before the funeral home calls me back with a cost estimate, so I need to hurry.
Grunting as I lift a bale of hay, I scoot it deeper into the barn. Brady told me he wanted to help today, but his phone has been ringing all morning. I’ve only popped in the office to bring him a sandwich. That’s when I offered to help with the funeral arrangements because he looked stressed out trying to juggle calls from the funeral home and his father’s cardiologist.
Otherwise, I’ve left him alone. Truthfully, I’ve barely been able to make eye contact with him since I barged in on him this morning.
Him sprawled on the floor with the kittens and Bandit attacking his legs was the funniest thing I’d ever seen. But then I got a look at him. A good look. And holy mother of all hotness.
The ink is what got my attention first. Tattoos swirled across his hard chest in colorful streaks. I couldn’t help but ogle his sleek muscles that stretched down his ridged stomach.
I wish I could say my wandering eyes stopped there because, if they had, I wouldn’t be a nervous wreck right now. But no, the little traitors slipped farther down to the bulge in his boxers.
And let me just say that Brady is fully loaded.
I fan myself, not sure if I’m sweating because the afternoon sun has finally popped out or if Brady has fried my brain.
Glancing at the feed bins, I remember I need to get some scratch grain for the chickens. It’s pretty dang satisfying to gather your own home-grown eggs. My friends and family can think I’m a whack job for leaving the senator’s campaign, but I love it here. I’ve always loved it here. It’s honestly the only place that’s ever felt like home.
“Momm, momma, moom, mom, mom,” Bella calls out from her playpen.
My heart plummets. “I know, mija. I miss your momma too.”
Scooping her up, I hug her to me and nuzzle my face against her downy-soft hair, and I realize I can’t keep falling apart. It doesn’t matter how poorly I sleep. Mel would want me to be strong for her daughter. Which means I need to put her needs first.
And definitely no more lusting for Brady. He’s a lovely man, a beautiful man, but I know I have no business with a guy like him. He’s all sharp edges and intense stares, and I’m a bookworm who prefers to stay home on a Saturday night and watch old rom-coms. How in the world would we ever be compatible? Besides, if I brought home a guy who looked like Brady, my father would probably disown me.
No, what I need to do is be a good friend to the family. That’s what I owe Mel and Cal.
You need to figure out a plan for when Brady kicks you out, you little fool, my head screams. You can’t just hang out here forever.
Ignoring that ugly voice, I vow to tell Brady the truth. I’m not looking forward to finding a place to live or getting another job, but he deserves to hear what happened that night, no matter how much it pains me to tell him.
9
Brady
I clear my throat and reposition the phone. “I love you too, Dad. Everything will be okay. All I want you to worry about is getting through surgery.”
I can’t lose you too, I think, wishing I could say it to him, to someone, and unburden myself for once.
I’ve been talking to my parents on and off all morning. I was afraid to tell them about Izzy, afraid how my dad would take the news given that he had a heart attack when he learned about my brother’s car accident. When I told him, he was relieved and choked up, but he held it together so my mom could fall apart. She was happy, of course, but emotional.
Dad says he’s not surprised she got so confused about Izzy. “Your mom went home to change yesterday and came back with her shirt inside out.” He sighs. “And then she locked the keys in her car. She’s just… overwhelmed.”
I rub the stubble on my chin. “Yeah. I get that.”
“She wishes she had been more welcoming to Melissa.”
It’s not that my parents were ever rude, but they were frustrated with Cal, and I’m sure that came across to his new wife.
“I know, Dad. I have regrets too.”
The silence on the phone makes the heavy feeling in my chest more palpable.
“Brady, you’ve grown into such a good man. Son, I’ll never be able to repay you for doing this.”
Between Cal’s car accident and my dad’s surgery, which got re-scheduled for the day after tomorrow—the morning before the funerals—he and my mom can’t stop gushing about how awesome I am.
For the record, I’m not. I’m really fucking not. Because only an asshole abandons his brother the night he’s killed.
Emotion overwhelms me.
I’m so sorry I let you down, Cal. So fucking sorry.
I clear my throat. “We’re family. You don’t have to repay me.” I get that they need to feel like they’re encouraging me or appreciating me. I’m sure this has everything to do with Cal’s death and not my virtue.
Trying to switch gears before my dad gets any heavier, I tell him that Jose has all of the properties under control. Thank God for Jose. Since I hired him last spring, he’s been one of my best workers, and now he’s a kickass manager. “We’ll be talking every day to plan out the logistics of the workload, but Dad, we have to give him a raise. I’ll pay him out of my own pocket if I have to, but we’ve doubled his workload, and he needs to be compensated. I have a little in savings—”
“Son, no. Let me cash out those IRAs and see if—”
“You’re not touching your retirement. At least not now.” I offer that concession, knowing full well I’ll never let him use that money. “I just need a little time to get things straightened out over here.”
A knock comes at the door, and I’ve never been more grateful for an interruption. “Sorry, Dad, I gotta go. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Okay. Thanks for the call. Love you, son.”
“Love you too, old man. Rest up.”
He chuckles, and I end the call.
“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” Katherine says from the hallway. Now that she’s seen me half naked, she’s not as eager to come traipsing in, huh? Not sure why that bothers me. “I need a credit card.”
I slide one out of my wallet and wave her in. “Thanks so much for coordinating this.” I haven’t known her for a full twenty-four hours, but she’s been a lifesaver already.
When she leans over to grab my card, her hazel eyes meet mine for the first time since our awkward interaction this morning.
“It’s no problem.” A frown cuts across her pretty face. “But Brady”—she lowers her voice—“it’s really expensive. I tried to cut costs with flowers, which I thought I could do myself, but the two funerals are going to cost a total of… thirteen.”
“Thirteen hundred?” That’s not so bad. I’ve heard horror stories of how much funerals run.
She shakes her head and swallows. “Thirteen thousand.”
I drop my head into my hands. “Fuck.”
“And that doesn’t include the cemetery plot or headstones. Unless you wanted, um, cremation.”
Pressing my forehead into my palm, I try to relieve the pounding behind my eyes. “Shit.” What would my brother want? I have no goddamn idea.
“Has his attorney called back yet? I’m wondering if Cal left any clues in his will.”
“No, he hasn’t called.”
I glance up to find her worrying her bottom lip. “Do you have any suggestions? My brother and I haven’t been close for a while…” My voice trails off.
“Sorry, we never talked about this sort of thing.”
Would my mom want the ashes? My stomach churns at the thought of having to ask her, and I swallow back the bile.
As though sensing my distress, Katherine says, “Brady, they weren’t religious. Mel went to Mass on Christmas and Easter, but that was pretty much it. I think she’d be fine without having any kind of service in a church.”
“I hadn’t even thought about whether we needed a priest or some
kind of religious officiant. Cal and I weren’t raised religious.”
Silence lingers between us for a moment, and then Katherine pulls a chair up next to the desk.
“The funeral home has a nondenominational minister who can say a few words if you want. They’re emailing me an invoice tomorrow that has all of the costs itemized, so if there’s something you don’t want or something you think we should add, I can still make changes.”
I nod, feeling like I’m fucking up my brother’s funeral. The guilt of that bullshit argument we had weighs on me, and the question I keep asking myself plays on repeat in my head: Why didn’t I call him back that night?
My throat is tight when I tell her to get the flowers. I don’t see how she’ll have time to do them herself anyway, and trying to save a few hundred dollars on the funerals makes me feel like a bigger dick.
“Hey,” she says softly. “Cal and Mel were really low maintenance. Whatever you decide is fine. I’m sure of it. They wouldn’t want you to stress out over details.”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “Thanks for that. I’m one crisis away from losing my shit.”
Katherine’s quiet a moment, and when I look up, she’s biting that lower lip again. “Would dinner help? You must be starving. You’ve been in here brooding since you tried to flash me your palm tree this morning.”
And then I do the last thing I expect at a time like this. I laugh. Jesus. This girl.
“I most definitely did not try to flash you. Had you not unleashed the Wild Kingdom in my room, I would've had the goods locked away.”
She chuckles, and I can’t help but smile back. “Sorry about that. I left the porch unlocked, and Bandit snuck in here, and wherever Bandit goes, the kittens follow.”
I sigh. “Tell me again why we have a pet raccoon?”
She shrugs. “Because he needed a home.” Then she winks like that’s the most obvious answer in the world and waltzes out the door.
10
Katherine
I had decided to act like this morning never happened, but Brady looked so stressed out this afternoon that I wanted to say something to lighten his mood. So yes, I called attention to his enormous erection.
My mother would be mortified.
A smile tilts my lips. I’ve always been a good girl. Not the naughty one. Never the naughty one. No, that honor goes to my younger sister Tori. So teasing Brady is not my style, but I won’t deny I enjoyed it.
After stirring the casserole and returning it to the oven, I turn around in time to get a huge spoonful of sweet potato puree tossed at me.
“Oh, Isabella, you’re lucky you’re so cute.”
She laughs, delighted with herself. At least she’s smiling. She could paint me from head to toe in sweet potatoes if it meant the kid would be happy.
I unbutton my flannel shirt and peel it off so I can wash it out under the faucet. Fortunately, my white tank top escaped the attack.
Goose bumps break out on my arms as I dip my hands under the water.
“It’s chilly in here, baby,” I call out to Bella.
A deep male voice replies, “It is.”
Brady strides in and bends down to kiss Bella on her head before dropping into a chair at the kitchen table. “You’re a mess, little girl.”
Then he turns to me and stares, not saying a word.
My eyes widen. “What?”
He smirks like I’m missing something, and I glance down to see my nipples poking through my sheer bra and thin tank.
My cheeks burn. “No, this isn’t the same thing as your boner.” I pull the front of my shirt away from my chest so I don’t look indecent. I’m only a C cup, but this white tank top makes the girls look enormous. “I’m cold.” I wave at my chest. “This has nothing to do with being turned on. Right now, I bet your nipples are hard too.”
He laughs, a wicked smile spreading on his face, and says, “You might be right, but I doubt it’s from the temperature.”
Oh, sweet mother.
I clear my throat. “You’re trouble, mister.”
He laughs again, and the sound is rich and deep and makes me shiver. “I was going to say the same thing about you, Tex.”
“Tex, huh?” I try to glare, but his grin only deepens.
Wow. That smile.
A cooking timer blares over the stove, making me jump, and I grab an oven mitt to pull out our dinner. My mouth starts running because I’m suddenly nervous. “You’re gonna have to live with Mrs. Bergenmeyer’s chicken casserole tonight because I was too busy to chop up the vegetables for the stew. And I really need to give Bella a bath in a bit and get her to bed, but I’m gonna plate this up for you first.”
Grabbing a bowl, I scoop in a big serving. When I place it in front of Brady, he’s frowning. “You’re not joining me?”
Those mesmerizing green eyes stare up at me, and my heart beats double-time. “I can. If you don’t mind waiting for me to bathe Bella and get her to bed.”
“I’ll wait.” He breaks out another heart-stopping smile, and I grin back like a fool. “But can I ask a favor?”
Anything. Anything at all. “Of course.”
“Can I help you with Bella? I’m thinking I need to figure out this baby thing.” He runs his hands through his thick, black hair, sending messy strands every which way. “The attorney didn’t happen to return my call yet, did he?”
I shake my head. “It’s late. He probably won’t get back to you until tomorrow. You worried about getting custody?”
“Honestly? I’m worried about my parents. Cal would've given them Izzy. Not me.” His forehead pinches in worry. “My dad is having heart surgery the day after tomorrow to replace a valve. I don’t see how they can handle a toddler running around their house.”
Hearing this reminds me that I’ll be losing Bella soon. Because of course she’s moving to Boston to be with Brady’s family.
I swallow the lump in my throat and blink back the sting in my eyes. Don’t freaking cry. Not again. When I can finally talk, I whisper, “If you guys lived closer, I’d be happy to help out.”
“You’ve done so much for us. I’m not sure I’d survive this week without you.”
Yeah, that doesn’t help the urge to cry, but I bite the inside of my cheek and try to keep my act together. “I’m glad I can be here.” I keep my eyes down because there is no way I can look at him or Isabella, or I’ll start bawling.
After an awkward silence, Brady clears his throat. “Katherine, I’ve been meaning to ask…” Ugh. My stomach tightens. Don’t ask me anything else about that night. I’m not ready to talk about it. “How much was my brother paying you to help out around here? I’m trying to figure out my finances, and you mentioned you got room and board, but I’ve also seen you busting your ass all day. You’re like a hummingbird around here, buzzing around, doing everything, really. So Cal had to be paying you something too, right?”
I shrug, trying not to look too relieved. “Yeah, but you don’t have to worry about that right now. I know how much the funerals are costing you, and I feel bad making you pay me anything. Melissa was one of my best friends and—”
“Katherine. How much?” When our eyes meet, he cants his head forward and raises his brows. “How much?”
Finally, I tell him. “A hundred.”
“A day?” He looks like he’s doing calculations in his head.
Dios mío. I laugh. “Sweet heavens, no. A week.”
I'm met with silence. Finally, he lets out an exasperated sigh. “That's all?" His jaw tightens. “What the fuck?”
Bella squeals, “Whadda buck? Whadda buck?”
He and I look at each other, and his cheeks turn pink. Beneath his breath he says, “Aw, hell.” He leans over and kisses her head. “Sorry, Izzy. Can we pretend I didn’t say that?”
“Whadda buck?” she yells again, this time with an eager clap.
Shrugging, I grin. “Whoops.”
He taps the table. “Okay, really. A hundred. A week
?”
My smile falters. Because Brady is in scary, wants-to-shank-someone mode again. “Yes.”
“Unbelievable.”
I’m afraid to say anything and upset him more, so I grab a clean washcloth and wipe down the baby’s face.
“How often were you paid? Every week? Tell me what I need to know here.”
This is embarrassing. I hate telling him any more, but I have to because he’s… he’s my employer now? Ugh. How did the hot biker guy become my boss?
“Cal paid me in cash every Friday.” It’s my turn to blush because I’m sure the implication is clear that he paid me under the table.
Brady sighs, sounding exasperated. “Are you okay if I write you a check? Because I need to be able to write off all of my expenses.”
I nod, because what else am I going to say? “Whatever you want is fine.”
“When was the last time you were paid?”
I might as well tell him. “Three weeks ago.”
A thick silence fills the kitchen as I wipe Bella’s hands, and I can feel Brady’s anger without even looking at him. But then he grabs my wrist, and I turn to face him. “I need you to know I’m not mad at you. I’m frustrated with the situation. And I’m frustrated with Cal and feeling guilty as hell about it.”
He lets go of my arm and stares out the window. The urge to hug him is overwhelming, but I know we have to have some boundaries.
“Don’t be upset with Cal on my account. He treated me really well. Like a sister. And I love living here.” The tension in his face starts to wane, so I continue. “You don’t owe me anything. In fact, if it’s a burden to have me here, I can… I can go.” Oh, God. What am I saying? My heart pounds at the thought of leaving, but I don’t want Brady to feel like I’m some squatter or feel obligated to keep me on if he can’t afford it.
His head jerks back. “Jesus. That’s what you’re getting from this conversation?” He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, Katherine. That’s not what I mean at all. Fuck, I feel like an asshole.”