Anything for You

by Kristan Higgins

  His sister's daughter. His niece. Another female to protect. And he would. She had tiny, perfect eyebrows and the cutest nose ever, and she was so tiny, it was just incredible.

  Isabelle Grace. His little sweetheart.

  "You did great, Colleen," he said, and his voice was husky.

  "It was an exciting twenty minutes," she said, then laughed softly. "Oh, your face. I wish I'd had a camera. Lucas, we should've filmed Connor."

  "We were a little busy. Connor, can I have my daughter?" Lucas took the baby, kissed her head and stared down at her, enraptured.

  Connor's arms felt empty without her, his niece. Though he'd known it was a girl, the word filled his chest with a warm pressure. His twin sister's baby. "You feeling okay, Coll?"

  "Kind of like a superhero, actually. You want to hear how many stitches I have?"

  "I'll pay you not to tell me."

  Just then, their parents came in. "Oh, Colleen!" Mom said, bursting into tears. "She's beautiful!"

  Pete went to Colleen's side and kissed her forehead. "Thank you for the granddaughter, sweetheart. Oh, gosh, she's just perfect." His eyes were wet, and he glanced at Connor. "Heard you did great, son."

  "He was moderately okay," Colleen murmured. "He didn't faint, I'll give him that."

  "Our grandbaby, Pete," Jeanette said, and Lucas turned a little so Pete could see. "What's her name?"

  "Isabelle Grace," Lucas said. "Your daughter picked it."

  "Isabelle was Lucas's mother's name," Colleen said. "And Grace because but for the grace of God, she wasn't born in a restaurant kitchen. Connor, it was quite sloppy. What you saw was just the start. There was blood, there was--"

  "Stop torturing your brother," Lucas said. "Tell them instead how incredible you are. She was incredible," he said to his in-laws. "Two pushes, and the baby was out."

  Pete put his arm around Mom. "She looks just like Colleen, doesn't she?"

  "She does. So much like her." She gave him a watery smile. "Savannah's going to go crazy, I bet. An aunt at age ten."

  Pete smiled. "I'll pick her up from school and bring her right here, if that's okay, Colleen."

  Strange, to have his parents getting along. And nice that Dad hadn't brought Gail along, or that Mom hadn't brought Ronnie. For the moment, it was just the biological grandparents. Maybe, though, it was a little nice, given that Lucas's parents were dead, that this baby would have step-grandparents.

  Grandparents. Gail was a step-grandmother. The thought made Connor smile.

  "All right," he said, "I have a kitchen to sterilize in bleach. I'll come back later, okay?" He went to his sister and bent down to kiss her head. "Nice work, Dog-Face. I'm proud of you." He shook Lucas's hand again. "Congratulations, grandparents," he said to his parents.

  He smiled all the way home. Happy, with a shot of PTSD.

  *

  "SO GUESS WHAT?" Connor asked Davey Dunn. "I'm an uncle. Colleen had her baby today."

  They were back at his house. Rafe had made a huge poster for the restaurant window: It's a Girl! Isabelle Grace Campbell! Mother & Baby both gorgeous & healthy. Come back tomorrow--drinks are on the house! That last line had been Connor's idea--it would make his sister very happy.

  In the four weeks of their lessons, Davey had mastered scrambled eggs--well, not quite mastered, but they were edible. They were moving on to grilled cheese today.

  "Now, this is pretty basic stuff, but if you buy really good bread and cheese, it can be fantastic."

  "I like string cheese. The kind with two colors and it's all swirly and you pull it apart? The one with the rabbit on the package?"

  Connor suppressed a shudder. "Yeah, that's not really cheese, Dave. So, the trick is, you want the frying pan really, really low. See the blue flame? Just barely on. Now, you remember the rule about the stove?"

  "Always check to make sure it's on when you want it on, and off when you're done," he said in a sing-song voice.

  "Right. And what else?"

  "Never use the stove alone."

  "Good. Okay, so with grilled cheese, you want to keep the heat low, and butter the bread all the way to the crust, see? Then you put it in the pan--other way, butter side down--great. Now put the slices of cheese on, and cover all the bread. Good! And now the tomato slices."

  "I hate tomato."

  Connor raised an eyebrow. "No one hates tomatoes when I'm the chef."

  Davey laughed. "No one hates tomatoes when I'm the chef," he echoed, lowering his voice. He was something of a mimic, Connor had learned. And it was awfully nice to make him laugh.

  "And now a little more cheese. And now the last piece of bread--butter side up this time, see. The butter will make the bread nice and crisp and golden, so it has to touch the pan. And now we wait a few minutes."

  "Fluffy! Come here, girl!" The little dog came skittering into the room and pounced on Davey's shoelace. He laughed and picked her up.

  "Maybe I should drop by the candle place with Fluffy," Connor said. "You could show her to Miranda."

  "I don't think she likes me anymore," Davey said, his face falling.

  "Why?"

  "She hardly talks to me."

  Connor nodded. "Well, you're good at talking, right? You have to ask her questions that are easy to answer." How Colleen would laugh, him giving romantic advice.

  "Like what?"

  Good question. "Oh, like...who's your favorite Avenger?"

  "I like Iron Man the best."

  "Don't we all. But ask her, anyway. And then say something like, 'Hey, me, too! Maybe you could come over sometime and we could watch it.' And then you make her this killer grilled cheese, and she won't know what hit her."

  "What hit her?"

  "Oh, uh, it's an expression." Davey was a very literal person. "She'll be happy and surprised. A guy with great taste in movies and who can cook."

  His student nodded solemnly.

  Connor slid the spatula under the sandwich. "Perfect. See that gorgeous color? And now we just flip it. Voila."

  "Can I flip it next time?"

  "You bet. Oh, and also, you say something nice about how Miranda looks." He thought of Jess. "Or smells. Tell her her hair looks pretty."

  "Miranda has really great boobs."

  "Okay, don't say that."

  "She does, though."

  "Do not say that. It's a little too...personal."

  "But she does." Davey scowled.

  "That's great. But don't tell her that, or she might get mad."

  "I like them. They're pretty. Why would she get mad?" Was he about to have a meltdown? And what would Connor do if he did?

  "I don't know, Dave," he said. "Women are mysterious."

  Davey burst out laughing. Phew. "Women are mysterious! Yes, they are! They are indeed!"

  Connor found he was laughing, too.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  A FEW NIGHTS after Colleen had delighted the town by having her baby in the back of an ambulance, Jessica texted Connor from work and asked him to come for dinner that night. His presentation to the investors was next week, and she wanted to go over it.

  And, she admitted, she felt a little guilty.

  She knew Connor wanted more than she was giving. Honestly, she hadn't even thought about living with him since the day he proposed in April...and she still couldn't see it. She and Davey were a team. Bring in a third person, and it wouldn't work. Ned didn't really count; he was a tenant, and would be moving out at the end of the summer, too, once his Visa bill was paid off.

  She'd made an offer on the house in the Village. And even though it was something she'd always, always wanted, it somehow made her feel guilty. She didn't want to tell Connor, but she'd have to, of course.

  The truth was, she didn't really know how to do--or give--more.

  "More what?" Pru asked over lunch. They were eating outside, sitting on a blanket in front of the Barn, enjoying the view and the enormous sandwiches from Lorelei's. "More sex?"

  "Well...no, we're g
ood on that front."

  "High five, sister."

  Jess laughed and obliged. "I just feel like he's...waiting. For something. And I know what it is, but I don't think I can pull it off."

  "What is it?" Pru offered her some chips.

  She took a few. Barbecue, the best kind. "It's this sort of...happy wife kind of thing."

  "Do you want to be a miserable wife?"

  "No, Pru." She shrugged. "Maybe not a wife at all."

  "Why? I would crawl all over that man if Carl would kindly make me a widow."

  "Uh-oh. You guys having trouble?"

  "No. I just fantasize about being alone sometimes. It's part of being married a long time." Pru balled up her sandwich wrapper and started in on Lorelei's amazing white chocolate macadamia cookies. "You know. No more husband farting in the chair next to me, someone new, someone who looks like Thor. Anyway, back to you. You afraid he'll leave you? That if he's not chasing you down like he's been doing for the past decade, he'll get bored?"

  It sounded stupid when Pru said it so baldly. "A little. Maybe."

  Pru stared ahead, chewing contentedly. The wind blew, and the clouds slipped across the blue, blue sky. "You see that tree there?" Pru asked. "The big maple?" She pointed to a giant tree with a near-perfect canopy. Brides often got their photos taken in front of it, especially in the fall, when it turned a deep, glorious gold.

  "It's a beauty."

  "We call that the Liberty maple. The first Holland who settled this land planted it in 1780."

  "Wow."

  "Yeah. We don't advertise it, even though it's big enough to get on the state registry of champion trees. You know how it is. People can be ass-hats, and we didn't want some dopey couple carving their initials into it on their wedding day, you know? So it's a little family secret, but hey. You're my best friend."

  Such a little sentence, said so effortlessly. Jessica's throat tightened. Pru was her friend because she just crashed through whatever reservations Jess had about friends. Pals were one thing; friends were...harder.

  Except Prudence.

  "Anyway, Great-Great-Grandpa What's-His-Name planted the Liberty maple when it was a seedling. It says so in his journal, which Honor has under glass somewhere. And he also said that this tree was to show his faith in the future. He'd never live long enough to see it come into its glory, but he liked thinking that his descendants would. And we have. We've all climbed in it and slept under it and all that. He did good, that guy."

  "Is this somehow advice for my love life?" Jessica asked.

  Prudence's trademark big, booming laugh echoed out over the hill. "Yes, dummy. Have faith in the future. Maybe you can't see it now, but if you don't water your little seedling with Connor, you're not gonna see it grow into something great."

  "You're such a farmer. Want to come for dinner this week?"

  "Sure." Pru stood up and stretched. "Ow. I pulled a muscle during sexy time with Carl last night. Thought I could lift him. I was wrong." She brushed off the seat of her jeans. "Gotta get back to the fields, kid. The grapes are calling my name."

  *

  CONNOR CAME OVER for dinner, right on time. She opened the door as he came up the walk, a six-pack of root beer for Davey in one hand, a bouquet of roses for her--she presumed. Lady Fluffy trotted at his side, no bigger than a squirrel.

  "Yo, Jess, is he a regular thing?" called Ricky, who was in the yard, waxing his beloved Camaro.

  "Seems that way," she said.

  "I am," Connor said, raising an eyebrow at her. He kissed her, and her insides tugged.

  "You could do worse," Ricky said.

  "Thanks."

  They went inside, Chico pouncing joyfully on Fluffy, then racing into the living room to get her a chew toy to share. "Hey, Dave," Connor said. "Brought you some root beer."

  The two men in her life were getting along surprisingly well. Not at all what she'd expected. Maybe it was the dog.

  "Can I have root beer now?"

  "Say thank-you, Davey."

  "Thank you. Can I?"

  "Half a glass," she said. Connor stood there a second, looking at her.

  "Your hair looks pretty," he said, and Davey cracked up. Connor shot him a look and a half smile, and she could swear they had an inside joke.

  "What smells so good?" Connor asked.

  "Chicken oregano, roasted potatoes and spinach salad."

  "I hate spinach," Davey said.

  "No, you hate cooked spinach," she answered. "This is salad."

  "Oh."

  "Thank you for inviting me," Connor said. "I hardly ever get a home-cooked meal unless I make it."

  "Is Colleen a good cook?" Jess asked.

  "Is that a joke?"

  "How about your mom?"

  "She's more of the bake it till it's string school of Irish cuisine," he said.

  Jess smiled. "I'm gonna tell her you said that. Wash your hands, Davey."

  "First rule of the kitchen," Davey said, going right to the sink.

  She gave him a look. Usually, it was a struggle to get her brother to wash any body part.

  Connor had been over a couple of times in the past few weeks, but this was the first time they were eating together, all three of them. She put dinner on the table--such a weird thing, doing this for a guy, though Connor had fed her more times than she could count. Davey lowered his head to his plate as if fearful that someone would steal it, and shoveled in the food in his typical way.

  "You're gonna want to chew, Dave," Connor said, and she bristled the tiniest bit. Did he think she didn't know Davey ate like a starved Tasmanian devil?

  But he had a point. And, shockingly, Davey listened immediately. "It's good," her brother said, smiling at her with a full mouth.

  "Thanks, baby."

  "It's excellent," Connor said, smiling.

  This is what normal people do.

  It didn't feel normal. It felt extraordinary and a little nerve-racking, as if at any minute, she was about to screw up.

  But nothing bad happened.

  After supper, she asked Davey to take the dogs in the backyard to play. "I have to help Connor with some computer stuff, okay?"

  "Okay," he said, scooping up the dog and holding her over his head. "Come with me, Super Fluffy!"

  "Hold her against your chest," Jess called, then got up to make sure he was.

  "Okay," she said, getting her computer. "So I added a few things--"

  "Come here," he said, pulling her down on his lap. He put the computer on the table and ran his hands up her arms. "Everything okay?"

  "Yeah. Everything's fine."

  "You sure?"

  She took a deep breath. "Yes. It's just... I've never had anyone over for dinner before. Like this. Like..."

  "A family?"

  She hesitated, then gave a half shrug, half nod.

  "How do you think it went?" he asked.

  She looked at him for a minute, into those beautiful eyes. "It went well," she acknowledged.

  His mouth tugged up on one side. Irresistible, that's what he was. "That's a good thing, right?"

  "Yes." She smiled a little herself, and he kissed her, then, a long, deep kiss that homed in on her insides, making her feel soft and weak and burning with energy at the same time. Then he stopped, touching her bottom lip with one finger.

  "And next week, my mom will be getting married, and you and Davey and I will be together again. With Colleen and the rest of my family. Will that be okay?"

  She hesitated. The mental picture was a little like dinner with the Holland family...lovely, but a little on the terrifying side, too. "That will be okay."

  "Maybe something you could get used to."

  Her heart seemed to swell. "We should do the, um, the thing. On the computer."

  He smiled. "Okay, boss, show me what you got."

  She got off his lap and sat in the chair next to him, opened her laptop. "I wrote up some talking points for you."

  "I thought we agreed I'd just sit there
and look hot."

  She laughed. "No. The thing is, the investors aren't investing in your company. They're investing in you."

  "Great. A grumpy chef who doesn't really like people all that much."

  "You're not really fooling anyone, Connor," she said. "You're not that grumpy. You think you're a big tough guy, but you're a big softie. Everyone knows it, too."

  "No, they don't. I'm incredibly tough and very intimidating."

  "Heard you cried when you saw your niece."

  "I'm gonna muzzle that Colleen one of these days, new mother or not." He gave her a long look. "You ever think about having kids?"

  The question was like an icicle through her chest. See, this was why she didn't want a relationship. These kind of heartbreaking talks. "No," she said.

  "Why is that? Because of Dave?"

  "Why do you call him that? Everyone calls him Davey."

  "Davey's a boy's name. He's twenty-six."

  "He's a boy. He always will be."

  "Why don't you want kids?" he asked.

  She folded her arms in front of her. "I don't think I'd be a very good mother."

  "Are you kidding? You're incredible with your brother. And I've seen you with Noah Cooper. You get that dazed, happy look--"

  "I like kids. I just don't want them."

  "Why?"

  Fine. He wanted to have this talk now, fine. "Because then I'd have to tell them what I did. How I am. Was. Whatever." They won't want to have friends visit. They'll dread every time there's a parent thing at school. The other parents will talk about me, and their kids will make fun of mine, and my kids will get into fights to defend me, and then resent me for it. "They'd...be embarrassed." Ashamed. "I don't want to do that to a kid."

  He tilted his head. "What do you think you did, Jess?"

  From the backyard came the yips from Lady Fluffy, the deeper barking of Chico, Davey's voice egging them on to catch the squeaky toy.

  Connor hadn't looked away. She shrugged. "School slut, for one."

  "Jess, you're too--"

  "Well, I was. And that kind of reputation doesn't die. And then there's the white trash stuff. Trailer park, drunk parents, all that."

  "Everyone's got something in their closets, honey." The word made her heart hurt. "You know that."

  She looked at the table. Tell him. Yeah. It was time. She cleared her throat. "I was also my mom's bartender." She looked him in the eye and squeezed the ring on her thumb hard. "I used to make her drinks. I could make a vodka tonic before I could read."

  Connor took her hand. She took it back.

  "Jess, you were a little kid."