Chapter Twelve
IT WAS PAST midnight before Trace parked on Lilianna’s circle drive.
“I’ll walk you in.” He unfastened his seatbelt.
“You’re sweet, but there’s no need. Stay warm.”
“Sure?”
She nodded. “Thanks for tonight. It was fun. Hope we land the deal. A destination spa would be great for the town.” With her seatbelt unfastened and purse in hand, Lilianna opened her door.
“Agreed. Plus, it’ll be fun working on it together.”
After a few more pleasantries, she let herself into the house with her spare key, then waved to reassure him she’d safely made it the twenty feet from his car.
Only after she closed and locked the door behind her did she lean against it, close her eyes and sigh. Trace was such a sweetheart. She knew his feelings ran far deeper than friendship, but hers didn’t. But could they if she tried?
It was too late now to think about anything other than checking on Donny, then readying herself for bed.
She removed her gloves, tucking them into her coat pockets before hanging it in the entry hall closet.
Kicking free of her heels felt beyond good. Carrying her shoes, she rounded the corner, only to be stopped by a sight far more mesmerizing than any other she’d seen that night. With the colorful Christmas tree lights glowing, Brody had fallen asleep on the sofa, cradling Donny against his chest. The funny thing was, while Brody lightly snored, Donny had pushed himself onto his elbows to reach his uncle’s nose.
Poke, poke, poke…
Lilianna couldn’t stop grinning. How could Brody sleep through the assault?
She set her shoes and purse on a kitchen counter stool, then reached for Donny.
“No!” Brody lurched upright, clamping his arms around her son. He took a moment for his gaze to focus on her, when they finally did, he exhaled. “You scared me.”
“Sorry.” She perched beside him on the sofa, smoothing the hair back from his forehead. “Having a bad dream?”
He swallowed hard, then nodded.
“Want to talk about it?”
He shook his head. “H-how was your night?”
“Okay. Pretty much business as usual, but with a dash of holiday cheer. Stella Ingram—she’s new in town, so I doubt you’ve met her—inherited her grandfather’s land. She wants to build a spa. She’s been renting a place on the lake until her plans are finalized.”
“Are you marrying that suit?”
“What?” His question caught her so off guard that she coughed. “Where did you get that idea?”
“Please, just answer.”
“No. I mean, I don’t think so. But Trace is good to me. Donny adores him. Your parents are fond of him, too.”
Brody released a ragged sigh.
“What’s wrong? Why are you so tense? Did my munchkin give you a rough time?”
“Not at all.” Still clutching the baby, he sat up. “We had a great time. Mom told me how to heat his bottle, so I fed him and changed his diaper. I wasn’t sure on the whole bath procedure, but figured he wasn’t in danger of catching any crazy dirt disease.”
Laughing, she took Donny from him. “Is that true? Are you a dirty boy?”
He giggled when she rubbed his tummy.
“Would you care?” she dared ask above her pounding heart. “If I married Trace?”
“Is that his name?”
“You know full well that’s his name. Answer my question.”
“Yeah. I’d care.”
“In a good or bad way?”
He growled.
“Interpretation, please?”
“I don’t like him.”
“You don’t even know him beyond a first name basis.” She stood, heading to the kitchen for a glass of water. “I’ve worked with him for years. Brandon and I used to spend a lot of time with Trace and his wife. When she died from breast cancer, I was afraid for him, too. Having both lost spouses, we have a lot in common.”
“You and I don’t?”
“Did I say we didn’t?” Starting to get annoyed with this circular banter, she jiggled Donny, who had grown fussy. “But Trace has made it clear how he feels. I haven’t had a clear sign from you since our first and last kiss at our junior prom.”
She waited for one of his typical snappy comebacks, but when she got nothing, Lilianna marched up the stairs.
In the nursery, she turned on the lamp, checked Donny’s diaper and found it dry. Since his cries seemed more sleepy than hungry, she placed him in his crib, covering him with his favorite fuzzy blanket. He launched one more half-hearted wail before his eyelids slowly drifted closed.
“I love you,” she whispered. “Sweet dreams.”
She turned on the nightlight and monitor before turning off the lamp, then left the room, closing the door behind her.
Brody stood at the top of the stairs.
Hand to her chest, she said, “I didn’t expect to see you there.”
“I didn’t expect your direct question. But since you asked for a sign…” He looked down, then up, pinning her with his direct stare. “Here goes. I don’t want you to be with that guy for one simple, selfish reason—I want you for myself. I always have. On a gut level, I think you and I have always known it. I know you loved my brother. I did, too. But Colby and Tanner both thought I should make a move, but I said it was too soon, and that—”
Without a word, she crossed to him, holding onto him for all she was worth.
So, she hadn’t imagined it? There had been a reason why he’d conveniently skipped his own brother’s wedding. And why she’d secretly been relieved he wasn’t there. Because they both knew that if Brandon hadn’t made his move, Brody would have. But out of love and respect for his brother, he’d backed off.
She loosened her hold, inching back far enough to search his gaze. She grew hyperaware of his hitched exhalations, the warm puffs of air on her lips. His breath smelled of coffee and a hint of peppermint. Had he eaten one of the wrapped candy canes hanging from the Christmas tree? Closer and closer gravity dragged them until she thought she’d die from wanting. They were mere millimeters apart when she tilted her head, holding her breath in anticipation of finally again feeling his lips against hers when he abruptly pulled away.
“I can’t do this.” He combed his fingers through his mussed hair.
“Kiss me? Are you afraid I have cooties?”
“You’re my brother’s wife. I can’t—”
“He’s gone, Brody. Never coming back. I thought I was strong enough to raise Donny on my own—and I am. But maybe I don’t want to be. Maybe I’m lonely and want to share my life with another man. I’m sorry Brandon died, but like Trace once said, that doesn’t mean I have to die, too.”
“Oh—so now you’re quoting the suit?” He sharply exhaled before brushing past her on the way to his room. “I killed all the downstairs lights. FYI—while you were gone, Donny and I fixed that busted towel rack in the guest bathroom. I found drywall putty in the garage and spare wall paint in the attic. See you in the morning.”
“Thanks. But that’s it? That’s all you have to say?”
Apparently so. As once he reached the end of the hall, he entered the guest suite, quietly closing the door behind him.
Why was it that the more she was around Brody, the more she thought Trace was looking like her better option? But would he know the first thing about towel rack repairs?
Chapter Thirteen
“DO YOU THINK you’re ready for that kind of commitment?” Brody’s counselor, Leif VanHorn, asked an hour into their session. Brody had already shared the highlights of the past year. Now, they were getting down to the true heart of the matter. His feelings for Lilianna. If they were proper? If he was even mentally strong enough to make a suitable husband for her and father for Donny?
“Honestly?” Brody sat on the sofa in his garage apartment. He should have been staying there since his first night back in town. But why? When all he wanted wa
s to be close to Lilianna and his nephew? “Sometimes I do. But last night, Lilianna came in late from a date. I’d fallen asleep and when she woke me, it took me a minute to orient myself. I’d been caught up in a nightmare.”
“Tell me about it.”
Brody shifted positions, cramming a throw pillow behind his aching lower back. “I was drowning. I’d been ice fishing—I saw a poster in town for a big tourney, so I probably had it on my mind. Anyway…” With his cell on speaker, he wiped his sweating palms on his thighs. “I was fishing, but then the ice started cracking. I could hear it—that awful creaking. And then I watched the fractures, splitting at hard angles like I was caught up on an icy spider web. Then I crashed through. But the water was hot—scalding my skin. But the top had frozen over and I couldn’t fight my way out. I punched and punched, but no matter what I tried, I couldn’t break free. But then I woke, and Lilianna was standing over me, and I held Donny in my arms, and I realized I was breathing. I was free. And the more I thought about it, the more I wondered if the dream was some kind of a permission slip from my subconscious that it’s okay to move on. To once and for all leave my past behind and break free.”
“Damn…” Steve chuckled. “Did I teach you to be so insightful?”
“Guess so?” Brody was caught off guard to find himself smiling, too. “But about the other part of my question? Lilianna is my sister-in-law. What do you think my parents—people in town—will say?”
“Do you care?”
“No—yes. I mean, I don’t care what anyone thinks of me, but I’d never want her reputation harmed.”
“Okay, look…” Brody envisioned Leif leaning forward in his favorite brown leather chair, steepling his fingers. Since the counselor was also a former SEAL, Brody trusted him implicitly. “Historically, it used to be a matter of honor. If one brother died, if another brother was single, he cared for his widow. Marrying her was quite common. I’m not sure on the statistics nowadays, but if you’re both single, consenting adults, just my opinion, but I think you’re making far too big of a deal about propriety. You’ve been through a lot, Brody. You’ve also worked hard to overcome your obstacles. Am I happy you essentially checked-out for a year? No. It wasn’t the healthiest choice. But while you were gone, you did follow most of the coping skills you learned. You kept yourself busy. You spent a lot of time in nature. Who knows? Maybe you even came out stronger on the other side? I hope so. But in the meantime, I’ll expect regular sessions—let’s check in once a week for a month, then we can taper off after that. Sound like a plan?”
“Yeah.” Brody nodded. “It does. Thanks. I can’t begin to tell you how much your help and support means.”
“That’s what I’m here for. And if you do get the urge to take things further with your girl, you be sure and let me know. I expect a wedding invite.”
Laughing, Brody said, “Done.”
“SURPRISE!” CHRISTMAS EVE, Brody hung back with Donny while Lilianna entered with his diaper bag and another bag filled with gifts. Though he couldn’t see past his dad, there seemed to be a commotion led by his mom. “Lilianna, since I know you and Trace have been spending a lot of time together, and he couldn’t get away to join his family in Montana, we thought it would be nice for you if we invited him to share the holiday with us.”
“Son of a bitch…” Brody mumbled under his breath. Just what he needed. After his great session with Leif, he had been flying high. Now, his mood popped like a balloon.
His dad moved just in time for Brody to catch Lilianna and the suit in a nice, big holiday hug. Gag.
“There’s my peanut…” Brody’s mom took Donny’s carrier from him. “Brody, sweetheart, have you met Trace? I know you all went to school together, but Trace, didn’t you graduate a few years ahead of my three?”
“Two years,” the suit said, holding out his hand for Brody to shake. “Good seeing you again. We met briefly at the chapel after the pageant. And before that, when you signed the final loan documents for your business.”
“Right.” This guy was good. He knew just where to jab where it hurt the most, but left no outward signs of damage.
“What are you planning to do about your office?” his dad asked Brody while they all removed layers of outer gear to hang them in the closet.
“I’ll check on it after Christmas. For now, let’s just enjoy our night.”
Impossible.
Any attempt for Brody to have fun was instantly thwarted by the suit. Trace was so efficient at cracking the king crab his mom always served on Christmas Eve that she asked him to do hers. Lilianna was so blown away by his mad crab-cracking skills that she also asked for his aid.
Meanwhile, Brody plodded along, pissed that somewhere in his years of SEAL training he’d learned to track a terrorist in the midst of a sandstorm while under heavy enemy fire, but apparently had never learned to properly crack a damned crab.
Next, came another fun family tradition—Trivial Pursuit.
Round after round, the suit earned his slices of pie.
Whose epitaph read: “Workers of all lands unite…?”
“That would be Karl Marx,” said the suit.
Who was Tasmania’s most famous swashbuckler?
“Errol Flynn.” Team Suit, comprised of Lilianna, Donny and Super Banker hadn’t even needed to consult.
“You are amazing at this,” Brody’s mom said. “I should have snagged you for our team.”
On and on the beatdown continued.
Finally, it was time for Team Suit to earn their final pie.
“Geography for the win,” his dad said with a drumroll on the coffee table. “What city’s main thoroughfare is O’Connell Street?”
The sight of the suit and Lilianna leaning their heads together made Brody want to punch the nearest wall.
“Dublin?” the suit said.
“Incredible!” Brody’s dad broke out in applause.
“Oh, come on,” Brody said. “No one knows that much trivia. He probably studied all the questions before he came over.”
“Actually…” The suit cleared his throat. “I did have a bit of an unfair advantage.” Tears welled in his eyes. “My wife and I played for hours while she suffered through her chemo. And then later, when we knew she was dying. Nothing pleased her more than playing a rousing game of Trivial Pursuit.”
Brody fought the childish urge to flip the gameboard. This guy had the perfect answer for any occasion.
“You poor thing,” Brody’s mother said to Trace. “Your wife was an absolute angel. Everyone loved her.”
“Thank you,” Trace said. “But if you think it would be fairer for me to forfeit, I will.”
“Absolute not.” Brody’s dad began putting away game pieces. “You earned your win fair and square. But I don’t know if you’ll be invited to play next year.”
Laugh, laugh, laugh.
One thing was for certain, if Trace showed up next year, Brody would spend his holiday at the lodge.
By the time the annual showing of Christmas Vacation had mercifully ended, Brody raised his arms for an exaggerated yawn. “It’s been a great night, but I’m beat. Ready to head home, Lili?”
“Your mom was going to serve pie and coffee.”
“That’s okay,” his mom said. “Now that you mention it, I’m sleepy, too. I’ll wrap you a piece to go. Trace? Would you like one? Banana cream?”
“My favorite. Thanks.”
While his mom puttered in the kitchen with Trace of course helping, Brody’s dad pulled him aside. “Is everything all right?”
“Sure,” Brody said. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“You seem tense.”
“I’m good. I just don’t care for Trace.”
His dad said, “Let’s get to the heart of the matter, you don’t like Trace for our Lilianna? Is that more what you mean?”
“Exactly.” I’d be a far better choice. But would he? Here he was, acting like a bratty fourth-grader all night just because a perfectly ni
ce guy was making a play for a woman Brody wasn’t even good enough for.
“I wasn’t planning on saying anything tonight, but if you’re worried about what Brandon would think—about you claiming his family? I think he’d be relieved. And honored.”
“But Dad…” Brody clamped his lips while searching for the right thing to say. “How do I know if she even wants me?”
“Did you ever think to ask?”
“Okay, let’s say I do, and by some miracle she feels the same, what then? Do you think I would make a good enough dad and father?”
“There’s only one way to find out…”
Chapter Fourteen
“SORRY ABOUT TONIGHT,” Brody said. “Or I guess that would be last night.”
“You weren’t exactly welcoming to Trace.” It was two-thirty in the morning and while Lilianna got Donny situated for his late-night snack, Brody delivered her a pint of Chunky Monkey.
“He shouldn’t have barged in on a sacred family event.”
“What if I told you he wants to become part of our family?” Lilianna left out the part where Trace had mentioned once or twice how convenient it would be for them to be together. How comfortable. Pleasant. But she didn’t want any of that. She wanted passion. The same rush she’d felt all those years ago when Brody’s lips had first touched hers.
“I’d say he’s not good enough for you.”
“Who is?” Since the Bold and the Beautiful had been preempted for a bowl game, there was no sound save for the usual blustery north wind and Donny’s contented suckling and occasional grunts. “You?”
He feigned interest in the Father Christmas sculpture Brandon had bought her in London.
“Please, answer…”
“You know how I feel about you, but I have nothing to offer.” He traced his finger along the sculpture’s wood base. “Not only am I a nutcase, but you had to bail my business out of foreclosure. Of course, I want you, but you can do better. As much as it pains me to admit, Trace seems like a good guy. He’d be a good dad for Donny.”
Happy New Year, Baby Page 7