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“Sure.”
The two men shook hands, and all three of them eased into the long line waiting to order at the front counter.
Drew looked down at his dirty work clothes. “Excuse my getup here. I’m working out at the inn again . . . on the cottage,” he explained.
“On a lunch run, huh?” Bree said.
“Yeah, you know how Grant likes his ButterBurgers.”
“Well, you can’t blame him.” She turned to Aaron. “That’s what I want. With bacon.”
“You got it.” He put a hand at Bree’s back and shuffled her a few steps forward in line.
Drew got the impression he was trying to put some distance between them. Sure, he was dirty from working on the cottage, but he didn’t think he stunk.
He couldn’t put his finger on why, but he wasn’t exactly a fan of the boyfriend. Still, he wasn’t going to let the guy intimidate him. He wracked his brain for something to talk to the guy about. Coming up blank, he looked past him and noticed a young mom juggling three kids and trying to heft a booster seat from the stack by the drink station. He stepped out of line and helped her secure the seat under her arm. When he was sure she wasn’t going to drop it, he looked to see if he could gracefully get back in line.
Bree motioned for him to move in front of them, and the group of men who’d come in after them stepped back so he could rejoin Bree and Aaron.
“Thanks. Didn’t want that woman to drop her bustier.” He winked.
Bree looked puzzled for a split second, and then remembrance lit her eyes and she laughed. She got so tickled people were starting to stare—and chuckle to themselves. He’d noticed the other night that her laugh was contagious that way.
Aaron, on the other hand, did not look amused.
“Sorry. Inside joke,” Drew explained. “It was Link’s answer to a question in this game we played Tuesday night.”
Aaron affected a laugh that came out more like a cough.
“It was such a fun game!” Bree’s voice went up an octave, like she was nervous. “We’ll have to play it sometime, Aaron.”
“Yeah. Sounds like a hoot,” he deadpanned.
Drew felt kind of bad about bringing it up. Note to self: Boyfriend is the jealous type.
He hid a smile, grateful when it was his turn in line and the girl at the counter rescued him with her bubbly, “Welcome to Culver’s. May I take your order?”
15
So Drew was out at the inn when you were there Tuesday night?”
Bree stiffened and shifted in the uncomfortable restaurant chair, dreading where this conversation would go. “Yes. He’s helping Grant build a cottage on the property. For Tim’s grandmother.”
Drew had left with his food ten minutes ago, but Aaron wouldn’t quit grilling her.
He cleared his throat. “Interesting that you failed to mention that.”
“That they’re building a house for Tim’s grandmother?”
He cleared his throat. “I think you know what I mean.”
“I’m not sure I do.” Why was he being such a pig about this? “Why don’t you spell it out for me so I know what we’re talking about here. You sound like you’re mad at me.”
Aaron stared past her, his jaw tensed. “I don’t like that guy,” he said finally.
“Drew? Why not? What did he ever do to you?”
“He’s a big flirt. And that wasn’t very appropriate—what he said.”
“What?” She wracked her brain, trying to remember what Drew could have said that would have set Aaron off.
“Bustier? Isn’t that one of those things—?” He put down his burger and formed his palms into cups in a comical effort to pantomime the item of lingerie.
She rolled her eyes. She wasn’t ready to laugh yet. He was being ridiculous.
As if he’d read her mind and knew he was on thin ice—never mind it was August—he looked at the table. “Sorry. I just don’t like the way that dude looks at you.”
“Well, that’s not my fault.”
“Oh? So you admit he does look at you that way?”
She couldn’t tell if he was teasing or not. “What way?”
He affected a huff. “Don’t pretend you don’t know, Bree. You’re not that stupid. And you didn’t exactly discourage him.”
“From what?” She wadded up the wrapper from her burger and squeezed it into a tight ball. He was seriously ticking her off.
“From flirting with you.” Aaron picked up his ButterBurger, tore off a hunk, and chewed. “And I’m thinking a game about sex doesn’t exactly seem appropriate.”
“Oh, good grief, Aaron. Battle of the Sexes? It’s not even like that. It could just as easily be called the Battle of the Genders. The game has nothing to do with sex.”
“You could have fooled me,” he muttered.
“What?”
“Never mind.”
“I heard what you said. Are you accusing me of something?”
“No. I’m not. But I think you’d better open your eyes and see what that guy’s up to.”
“Drew is Dallas’s brother. He’s just friendly. He’s not acting any differently with me than you do with Wendy.”
“Wendy, the receptionist?” He rolled his eyes. “If you call the way I talk with Wendy flirting, then Drew practically accosted you up there.” He motioned toward the front counter.
“Aaron. That is so ridiculous. I think your judgment is clouded. Drew is a family friend. He’s practically my brother-in-law. Our paths are going to cross sometimes, and I hope we don’t have to go through this every time they do.”
“Quit acting like that with him, and we won’t have to.”
She started to defend herself and found she was speechless.
They sat in silence for a long minute. He stirred the ketchup in a pleated paper cup with a cold French fry, but didn’t take a bite.
Finally she said, “Are you accusing me of flirting with Drew?” Even as her words wafted through the airwaves, she knew she was guilty to some degree. She held up a hand before he could reply. “I’m sorry. Maybe I was. A little. Flirting. But I didn’t mean anything by it. No more than you, when you flirt with Wendy.” Was that true?
His tone softened a little. “It’s just that it’s not like you to flirt. Shoot, it took me months to get you to flirt with me! Which makes me wonder why you suddenly are flirting with some guy you barely know. Unless you have the hots for him.”
She set her drink down hard. “Do you even remember how hard it was for me to say yes to going out with you, Aaron? I did not come into this”—she motioned between them—“lightly or without a lot of hard thought. I’m sure not going to try juggling two guys. Drew is a friend. Am I not allowed to have friends?” She shook her head in disbelief. Yet, even though she was saying all the right things, a quote from the Bard ran through her mind, taunting: The Lady doth protest too much, methinks.
Did she “have the hots” for Drew? She liked the guy, sure. A lot. He was kind and funny and good-looking, and he seemed sure of himself, yet not arrogant. Which was more than she could say for the man sitting across from her right now.
But she’d thought all those good things about Aaron too. And he was all of that, and more. He’d revealed a side of himself she wasn’t crazy about just now. But maybe she was a little flattered, too, that he’d noticed Drew’s flirting and felt threatened by it. She tried to recall if Tim had ever been jealous. She couldn’t remember. There were so many memories about Tim that she was losing day by day. She’d noticed the phenomenon before, but it seemed like it had accelerated exponentially since she’d started dating Aaron. And maybe she blamed Aaron for that. Which wasn’t fair.
Aaron slid his phone from his pocket and checked the time. “We’d probably better get back.”
“Okay—” She gave a little gasp, remembering. “Aaron, we didn’t even talk about what we came here for!”
“What we came for?” His eyes narrowed. “Oh . . . Your meeting with Sallie?”
“She called you into her office to tell you that?”
“Yes, and she said she’s going to talk to you, too.”
“Is she upset?”
“It’s hard to tell.” She shrugged. “She actually seemed kind of happy about it. She met her husband when they worked together so maybe it’s bringing back memories. She said it’s fine as long as we don’t make out in the office.”
His eyes widened. “She said make out?”
His expression made her laugh. “No, of course not. She said ‘no PDAs.’ ”
He snorted. “That’s kind of funny.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
“Actually, I’m shocked she could tell we’re an ‘item’ given how you seem to take every opportunity to avoid me.” He looked up at the ceiling, a sly expression creeping over his face. “Meanwhile, you’re flirting with someone with whom you are not an item.”
“Cut it out. Jealousy does not become you.”
“Well . . . ?”
She patted his hand on the table. “I’m sorry. I’ll try not to be such a terrible flirt in the future.”
“Except with me. You can flirt with me all you want.”
“Unless it leads to PDAs.”
“Right. So you’d better keep your hands to yourself.” He looked down at her hand still covering his.
That made her laugh.
Aaron took advantage. “By the way, you said to give you a few days before I posted that photo of us.”
“Oh. Um . . . could you give me just a few more days.” Sally knew about them now, but she still hadn’t said anything to Tim’s family.
He begrudgingly agreed. But she knew she couldn’t put it off forever.
* * *
“Okay guys . . .” Grant crumpled the wrapper from his ButterBurger and tossed it into the paper sack from Culver’s. “We’d better get back to work.”
Drew wolfed down the last two bites of his bacon burger and slurped the last of his iced tea. The sun was a beast today, and he dreaded getting back out into it. Jesse had left before lunch, and Link and Dallas had finished eating a few minutes ago and were now having a siesta leaning against a massive tree by the creek—what Link called the “climbing tree.”
Dallas had one ankle crossed over his knee, sawing logs. Drew gave his brother’s foot a gentle kick.
Dallas snorted awake. “What?”
“Back to work, bro.” He rose and fitted his ball cap back on his head.
Link groaned and eased himself off the ground. “Shoot! I was just getting to the good part.”
Dallas and Drew threw him a quizzical look.
“In my dream.”
“Yeah? What’s her name?” Dallas teased.
“There were two of them.” Link waited a beat, then grinned. “Apple pie. And ice cream.”
Even Grant laughed at that as he led the way over to the construction site where the cottage was going up.
Drew was amazed at how quickly everything was coming together. In less than four weeks, they’d finished the slab foundation, gotten electric and plumbing done—some of which Grant had hired done—and had the thing framed out and the roof on. Today they were getting walls up, and tomorrow Grant was hoping to cut windows and doors.
The goal was to get everything enclosed so they could do the interior work once the weather got cold. Today, cool weather seemed a long way off.
Drew wiped his face on the sleeve of his T-shirt before grabbing a siding panel and hefting it to the proper spot.
“How are things on the job front,” Grant asked, aiming the nail gun at the board Drew was holding in place.
“Okay, I guess. I’ve only had one interview, but there’s a couple I haven’t heard back from yet. I’m hoping no news is good news.”
He lifted another panel in place and without words, the two of them worked alongside Dallas and Link. They’d become a good team, and, except for the extreme heat, Drew found he liked working outdoors, working with his hands. Even if he did have a few cuts and bruises to show for his initial ineptness with carpentry.
He’d started thinking he might apply at some different places. Despite the positive spin he’d put on it for Grant, and for Dallas, he was pretty discouraged by the response he’d gotten—or hadn’t gotten—with the office jobs he’d applied for. He was hoping to ask Grant if he’d be willing to be a reference for any construction or similar jobs. But he needed to prove himself first. So far, he feared he’d cost Grant as much as he’d earned—a spilled box of nails, a sheet of plywood cut too short, and half a dozen other snafus he’d made in the short time he’d been working for Dallas’s father-in-law.
But hey, he still had a job, so apparently Grant thought he was doing okay. Or else the guy felt really sorry for him.
They worked until almost dark, and Drew was the last to leave. Grant followed him to his car, and they stood there for another twenty minutes visiting about the construction and what Grant had planned for the following week.
“And by the way,” Grant said, “You just plan on staying for dinner Tuesday night. You can shower here . . . like you did last time.”
“You’re sure? I don’t want to intrude or anything.” He grinned. “But the food was pretty awesome.”
Grant laughed. “You’re not intruding. And I have ulterior motives. Audrey will let me work later if she knows I have help out here.”
Drew gave a weak salute. “You got it. Happy to help.” He opened his car door and slid into the driver’s seat. He started the car and ran the windows down before shutting the door.
Grant backed away from the vehicle, waving and waiting until Drew had backed around and headed down the long driveway.
Turning onto Chicory Lane in the direction of Cape, Drew found himself wondering if Bree Whitman would be there next Tuesday. He’d kind of hated to see her at Culver’s with that Aaron guy today. Of course, it could have just been a work lunch.
He was having a hard time figuring out exactly what their relationship was. Dallas didn’t seem to think Bree was dating anyone, but with the exception of Danae, his brother could be a little clueless when it came to women.
Not that he was any Romeo. And it was now going on six months since he’d had a girlfriend. Or a date. He almost couldn’t remember what that was like. Almost.
16
I’d like to go down and see how my house is coming along before we eat.” CeeCee stared straight ahead through the windshield as Bree drove her to the inn for Tuesday family night.
“Now, CeeCee . . .” Bree prayed for wisdom as to how she should respond. She was beginning to feel guilty that she still hadn’t said anything to Grant or Audrey about the fact that CeeCee claimed she had no intention of moving into the house they were building especially for her. But she had said “my” house just now, so maybe she’d had a change of heart.
Bree did her best to sound casual. “Have you changed your mind about the house?”
“I’ve done no such thing. Why would you think differently?”
She shrugged. “Because you said you wanted to see it. And you said my house.”
“I’m simply referring to it as everyone else does.”
“Oh.” She cleared her throat. “I really wish you’d reconsider. That cottage is going to be so perfect.”
“Feel free to move right in. Don’t let me stop you.”
“I can’t do that, and you know it.”
“I don’t see why not.”
“Because I can’t sell my house. And since I work in Cape I really need to live there.”
“Oh, pshaw! What’s a little commute?”
Bree looked at her from the corner of her vision. Did people really say “pshaw” anymore? Apparently. Why was CeeCee being so cantankerous? “I don’t understand why you told everyone you’d be willing to move, and now you’ve suddenly changed
your mind.”
“Nothing sudden about it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I never said I wanted to move. It was all decided for me.”
“But you said you’d be willing. Grant and Audrey are only doing what they think is best for you. They worry about you.”
“So they say. They just want to make things easier on themselves.”
“I don’t believe that for a minute! You know how much they’ve done to help you stay at your place. But think how terrible they’d feel if you had an accident. Or if you fell and no one found you for hours. Or even days!”
“Well, maybe they should check on me more often then.”
“I don’t know that they can with the inn and everything they have to do to keep it going. And they have their own kids and grandkids to think about.”
“Well, if that’s more important to them, so be it.”
“It’s not that—” She sighed. What had she gotten herself into? She felt as if her words—meant to help—were instead digging a deep trench that threatened to bury them both. “We all love you. More than you could know. Is there anything we can do to help make the transition easier?” Maybe speaking as if moving to the cottage was non-negotiable would help.
But CeeCee drew herself up in the passenger seat and turned to glare at Bree. “There certainly is. You can quit trying to plan my life out for me and leave me be!”
Bree had never seen Tim’s grandmother this way. It scared her and lent credence to Grant and Audrey’s suspicion that CeeCee was suffering from some level of dementia. She wondered if they’d had her tested by a doctor. But she wasn’t about to ask CeeCee herself. Not in this state of mind.
But at least now she’d feel a little less guilty “tattling” on CeeCee to the Whitmans. It was too late now to do anything about the house. It was halfway built and full-steam ahead for now, since Grant had Link and the Sillies—his sons-in-law—to help. And Dallas’s brother Drew. She wondered if Drew would stay for supper again tonight. She hoped he would. He’d livened things up in a wonderful way last week.
She immediately tried—and failed—to squelch thoughts of Drew Brooks. Given the argument she and Aaron had over that whole thing, it wasn’t worth it to borrow trouble. But no doubt, Aaron would ask her at work tomorrow if Drew had been there tonight.