Trust his brother the former army ranger to come up with a military analogy that somehow managed to fit the situation.
“Turning into quite the philosopher, aren’t you?”
“I’m full of all kinds of BS. You know that by now.”
Except this had been remarkably insightful of him. “I appreciate the advice,” he said. “I don’t want to leave you with the wrong idea, though. As great as Lucy might be, she’s a friend. That’s all.”
The first part of that statement was absolutely true. Lucy had become a good friend these past few weeks, someone he cared about, liked talking to, enjoyed spending time with. She made him laugh and she loved his kids.
The second—that she was only a friend—was a little more of a hazy area when a big part of him wanted her to be much, much more.
“Just keep your options open,” Dylan said. “That’s all I’m saying.”
To his relief, Dermot wandered over to the grill before Brendan had to come up with an answer to that.
“How are those burgers coming?” Pop asked. “We’ve got starving children here.”
“Just about ready,” he answered, and turned back to something he knew he could do well.
* * *
FOR THE REST of the evening, he couldn’t seem to stop watching her.
He tried to check himself, but he would inevitably find his attention returning to her again and again.
He watched as she enjoyed her dinner, deep in conversation with Genevieve, Dylan and Drew. As she helped Charlotte light the candles on Carter’s cake. As she grinned over Car’s obvious delight at the presents he had basically hand-selected for himself.
A few times, she would catch him watching her, and both of them would quickly look away from each other. He felt as if he was back in junior high school.
Despite the awkwardness, the steady simmering awareness between them, it was an enjoyable evening. After dinner, he was in the middle of conversation with Charlotte and Spence about the latest group of veterans coming to A Warrior’s Hope in a few days when his phone beeped.
His sister’s face fell. “Oh, no. Don’t tell me you have to go out on a call right in the middle of a birthday party.”
He shook his head. “That’s not the pager, just an alarm on my phone. I have to feed Daisy. If I can find her, anyway.”
“Faith had her last I saw,” Charlotte offered. “I think they were enjoying some quiet time on the porch swing.”
“Thanks.”
He headed through the crowd in that direction and found Faith sitting by herself on the swing.
“Hey there. You got room for one more?”
To his surprise, Faith hesitated for a moment before she finally slid over.
He sat down beside her, chains rattling with his weight. “Sure is a pretty night, isn’t it? Your mom used to love these May evenings. Sweet as sugar pie, she used to called them. I think she got that saying from your Great-Aunt Annabelle.”
She didn’t answer, and he peered into the darkness and saw she looked even more pensive than usual.
“Something wrong, bug?”
She continued petting Daisy, who appeared to be asleep on her lap.
“Is Lucy your girlfriend?” she finally asked, completely out of the blue.
He froze, making the swing come to a rattly stop. “What? Where did that come from?”
“I heard Aunt Charlotte talking to Aunt Allison. Aunt Allison asked if the reason you’re smiling again had anything to do with the pretty brunette. Aunt Charlotte said she suspected as much but didn’t know for sure, and she said if you have half a brain, you won’t let her move back to Seattle because she’s the best thing to happen to you in two years.”
Curse his daughter’s photographic memory. He was pretty sure the conversation went exactly like that.
He pushed the swing off again with his foot while he took his time trying to come up with a satisfying answer for her. They moved together there in the quiet porch while the sun slid behind the mountains in a blaze of dusky yellows, reds and oranges.
“I like Lucy, but she’s not my girlfriend. We’re friends. That’s all.”
Was he going to have to offer that explanation to every single person in his family? He vowed to have a serious conversation with his son next time Carter wanted to invite any non-Caines to the family birthday party.
“So she still might leave us and go back to Seattle?”
Was Faith worried that Lucy was his girlfriend or that she wasn’t? He had no idea. This was way too complicated a conversation for him on a sweet-as-sugar-pie May evening.
“Maybe. I don’t know the answer to that. She still has a house there.”
“She has a house here, too,” Miss Logical pointed out. “Why can’t she just stay here?”
“That’s going to have to be Lucy’s decision. It’s been fun having her in Hope’s Crossing, but you have to accept that she might be returning to her home in Seattle sometime. Or she might take a job somewhere else. Whatever happens, you know you can still Skype her and email and talk on the phone as much as you want.”
Daisy woke up and started making her hungry little snuffly noise. Faith lifted her up and rubbed noses with the puppy. “Aunt Charlotte told Aunt Allison that you shouldn’t let her leave.”
“I can’t control that, honey, no matter what your aunts say.” Apparently he would have to talk with the women of his family, too.
“You just don’t want to,” she accused.
That wasn’t necessarily true. He didn’t want Lucy to leave, he suddenly realized. Just thinking about it left a sour taste in his mouth, which made him uneasy. It shouldn’t matter to him what she did, should it?
How had everything changed so drastically?
And what the hell was he supposed to do with this ball of nerves that seemed to have burst in his gut?
“It’s not up to me, Faith. Lucy makes her own decisions.”
“You have been smiling more since she came here,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone. “I like it.”
“I have a lot to smile about. You. Carter. Even Daisy,” he said as the dog climbed from Faith’s lap to his, obviously knowing on which side her kibble was buttered.
“Lucy makes you smile, too,” Faith pressed. “I’ve seen it.”
Oh, this was turning into a mess. He didn’t want Faith spinning all sorts of romantic daydreams about something that wasn’t meant to be.
“Lucy is my friend. I like being with her but that’s it.”
Part of being a parent was taking opportunities when they presented themselves to talk about things that needed to be said, no matter how uncomfortable. He decided this was too rich a chance to pass up. “But you know, even though Lucy isn’t my girlfriend right now, I probably will eventually start dating again.”
Yeah. He really, really missed stress relief.
“I might even have a girlfriend someday. What would you think about that?”
She let out a sigh. “I don’t know. Weird, I guess.”
He remembered how he had used that very word to Lucy the other night in that bedroom at Iris House. He was beginning to wonder if maybe he was just looking for excuses not to let her any closer.
Yes, she had been Jessie’s best friend. The maid of honor at their wedding. He still had a tough time working through the complexities of that. But she was so very different from Jess, it wasn’t as if he could somehow substitute one for the other.
His family apparently didn’t think it weird, if all the subtle conversations flowing around them were anything to go by. And if they didn’t, why should he?
The fact remained that he was beginning to care about Lucy, to feel things for her he hadn’t thought he would for any other woman. It scared the hell out of him, but there it was.
“It would be weird. But if she made you happy and smile and laugh like you do with Aunt Lucy,” Faith went on, “I guess it would be okay. As long as she was nice to Carter. He can be a pain sometimes.”
He closed his eyes, profoundly touched and humbled that his sweet little girl was worried about her brother first. “I could never like somebody who wasn’t nice to you and to Carter. I promise.”
Lucy certainly fit that particular qualification, he couldn’t help thinking. She loved his children with all her heart.
“If you fell in love and married somebody else, you wouldn’t forget Mom, would you?” Faith asked, worry in her voice.
“Never,” he vowed, smoothing a hand over her hair. “I would never want to, and I couldn’t, anyway. Not when you look just like her.”
She nodded as the dog began to wiggle around with a little more energy.
“I think she’s hungry,” Faith said.
“That’s exactly the reason I came to find you two. We’d better take care of that.”
He stopped the swing and reached a hand to help Faith off the swing. With her hand in his, they headed into Pop’s house. Just before they reached the door, Peyton raced up to them.
“Faith! There you are. We’ve been looking for you. We’re playing Capture the Flag, and you’re the fastest runner in the family. We need you on our team.”
Faith looked conflicted until he smiled at her. “Go on. I can take care of Daisy here.”
“Thanks, Daddy,” she said, throwing her arms around him for a quick hug that brought another lump to his throat.
He missed Jessie every single day. It wasn’t the raw crushing pain of the first few months after her death, more like a hollow emptiness that was never quite filled. There had been random times during the past two years when he didn’t know how he would survive that aching black void.
But he had come to see that even if he’d known from the beginning he would lose her, the pain in store down the road, he wasn’t sure he would have been able to make a different choice.
He had thought about that conversation with Lucy a lot, about choices made and paths followed. If not for Jessie, he wouldn’t have these two amazing children, who loved him despite his many weaknesses.
How could he ever regret that?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“COME ON, DAISY. Guess it’s just you and me.”
He carried the puppy into the kitchen and set her down on Pop’s tile floor while he found the bag containing the puppy chow and bowl he’d brought along for this purpose.
The outside door opened and he turned, expecting Pop or maybe Charlotte. When he spotted Lucy walking through the door with Max tucked under her arm, his pulse ratcheted up as if he was heading out on a dicey ambulance call.
She looked fresh and sweet and so beautiful, he almost couldn’t breathe.
He was so pathetic.
She, on the other hand, stopped dead when she saw him as if she’d just discovered a den of particularly terrifying vipers in Pop’s kitchen.
“Oh. Hi.”
He gave a one-fingered wave. “Looks like we’re on the same feeding schedule.”
“Looks like.” She pulled a sandwich bag full of puppy chow out of her purse, along with a small double bowl.
He leaned a hip on the counter and watched as she filled one side of the bowl with puppy chow and then mixed a little water into it, then filled the other side with straight water.
She set Max down and the puppy went to greet Daisy first before he headed back to his food as if he were starving.
After a moment Lucy joined him at the counter to watch the puppies together. The scent of her seemed to swirl around them, sweet and enticing and Lucy.
Despite the chaos and complication she stirred in him, he still found a tender, unexpected peace in standing here with her listening to the little dogs snuffle their food.
When Daisy finished her meal, she headed over to help herself to Max’s, who didn’t particularly appreciate the culinary poaching and butted her away while he finished up.
As soon as he licked the last bit, the two started wrestling. Lucy smiled, watching their antics, while Brendan couldn’t help watching her.
“I never thought I would admit this, but I’m really going to miss Max when Crystal takes him back to Denver next month,” she said.
“So it’s official?”
“Dad agreed. That was part of our agenda in the city today. I can’t quite believe that. He would never let me have a pet when I was a kid. They were just one more thing to upset the perfect order of his world.”
Her childhood seemed so very different from his own. This kitchen—and the entire house, for that matter—had always been a source of strength, support, encouragement. Thinking of her trying to grow and blossom in such a rigid household made his throat ache.
“News flash, Luce,” he said after a moment. “You’re an adult now. If you want to get a dozen dogs, there’s nothing to stop you except the kennel licensing laws of the great state of Colorado.”
She laughed, as he had intended. “Now there’s a thought for a new career direction.”
“Are you looking for a new career direction? Isn’t opening a bed and breakfast enough challenge for you right now?”
She gave a heavy sigh. “It was always going to be a temporary plan. I never intended to stay and run the place.”
Even though he had just told Faith the same thing, that Lucy probably wasn’t going to be around Hope’s Crossing forever, the idea of her leaving left a cold knot lodged under his breastbone. “Then why put all this time and effort into fixing it up?”
“Excellent question.” She gave a smile that appeared strained. “Right about now, I’m asking myself the same thing.”
He didn’t miss the way she avoided answering, but he decided not to press her about it.
“Thanks for Carter’s gift. He loved it. I’m only sorry you drove all the way to Denver for it. Sometimes a boy needs to learn he can’t always have what he wants.”
She flashed him a searching look then looked back down at the puppies. “It was no big deal. I wanted to get it for him, and we had to talk to Robert and Pam about Max, anyway.”
“Well, I’m sure he will enjoy it.”
“Good. That’s kind of the point of a birthday present. Thanks for inviting us to the party, by the way. Your family’s great.”
“It was Carter’s idea,” he said, then immediately wished he hadn’t when she gave him a long look.
“I know. Don’t worry, Brendan. I won’t forget who wanted me here.”
Why did he always feel like a stupid, overgrown jock around her? It was ridiculous, especially when he hadn’t played football in a decade.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She looked down at the puppies. “Just that I’m getting a definite vibe that your family is trying to read more into me coming to Carter’s birthday party than either of us would like. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to complicate things for you.”
“Screw my family.”
She laughed roughly. “You would be lost without them, and you know it.”
“Yeah. I would. But they do tend to butt in where they’re not welcome. My love life—or lack thereof—is nobody’s business.”
He saw startled awareness flit across her expression and her gaze shifted to his mouth and then back up, that hint of alluring color on her cheekbones again. “Is that what you call this?”
“I don’t know what to call it,” he growled. And then he couldn’t help himself. He pulled her into his arms.
* * *
REALLY? HE WAS going to kiss her now when his family was just outside the walls of the house and somebody could come racing into the kitchen at any moment?
At least they were ou
t of sight of the backyard, in the corner of the kitchen that couldn’t be glimpsed through the window...but why couldn’t he pick a time when they could be assured of a little more privacy?
Maybe he chose these moments on purpose so that they couldn’t get too carried away by these wild, churning emotions that always seemed to flare between them.
Or maybe he just couldn’t help himself, bad timing or not.
As usual, he smelled delicious—of charcoal and barbecue sauce and sexy male—and within seconds of his mouth tangling with hers, she forgot all about the circumstances and the birthday party going on outside and the distinct possibility that somebody might walk in at any moment.
She wrapped her arms around his strength and heat and simply gave herself up to the moment.
“You always taste so good. Strawberries.”
The raw hunger in his voice sizzled down her spine, her thighs, the hollow behind her knees.
“Oh.”
Even as she sighed against his mouth and savored each sensation, she was aware of a slow, sweet tenderness seeping through her.
Along with it came a grim realization. Yes, she would miss Max, with his funny face and his curious nature. A corner of her heart would always bear a little frayed edge after she took the puppy to Denver to live with Crystal and Robert and Pam.
But huge chunks of her heart would go missing when she had to leave Brendan and the children and Hope’s Crossing.
She—the woman with the reputation at NexGen as having nerves of steel—suddenly felt the ache of tears in her throat, behind her eyes.
She was so stupid. How could she have let things go so far? She closed her eyes against the pain she knew was headed her way.
“We have to stop,” she whispered.
He ignored her, deepening the kiss, and she gave in to the weakness for a long moment before the sound of shouts and laughter from the children’s game outside wended its way through her subconscious.
“Brendan. Stop. Somebody could come in any minute and find us here. You don’t want that. Trust me.”
He froze for a moment, his forehead pressed against hers and his breathing ragged. After a moment he stepped back.
Wild Iris Ridge (Hope's Crossing) Page 22