The Right Tool (Bryant Brothers Book 3)

by Tami Lund

  “I feel like I’m missing something,” Camila said.

  “It’s a long story,” her sister replied. “Let’s eat cake.” Had she changed her mind about the fake engagement?

  Grandma Bryant shoved a plate into Kyle’s chest. “This one looks like it would be good at your wedding.”

  He glanced at Camila and Tommy, but they were too busy sharing their own piece to have heard.

  “Well?” Madison said. “You going to give me a bite?”

  “Um…” Was he supposed to feed it to her? What the hell was the proper etiquette when one was pretending to be engaged while kind of, sort of wishing they really were engaged?

  He handed her the untouched slice.

  She carved out a bite and he watched, entranced, as she raised it to her lips and then slipped it into her mouth, and Jesus, he was actually getting hard right now.

  “Oh, this is good,” she said after she’d swallowed. And then she scooped another bite onto the fork and held it up, inviting him to try it.

  He was pretty sure every older than seventy years eye in the room was on him as he slid the moist—yes, moist—concoction off the tines.

  “Wow, you’re not kidding. That’s fantastic.”

  “Done,” Grandma Bryant announced. “Tommy and Camila, you can’t use that one.” She pointed at the plate in Madison’s hand.

  “But they said it was great,” Camila protested.

  Grandma Bryant shook her head. “You have half a dozen other flavors. Pick one of them.” Her tone was stern, the one she used when they’d pushed her too far as kids and she had to trade in the grandma voice for the mom voice.

  Camila glanced at Tommy, who shrugged, and then she said, “Okay, I guess.”

  “Excellent,” Grandma Bryant said. “Now, Mr. Baker, what was the name of that piece they just ate? We need to make note of it.”

  Madison closed her eyes and shook her head, and Kyle couldn’t help but smile. This was so comical it almost couldn’t be real.

  She opened her eyes and responded to his smile with one of her own, and he impulsively leaned forward and kissed her temple.

  Grandma Bryant grinned.

  He glanced over at Tommy and Camila, who were conferring with the chef. Maecie and Philip, who were probably actually going to get engaged any minute now, as well as Mom and Dad, were with them, offering their opinions. The only people who might have noticed the gentle kiss were those who already believed he and Madison were engaged.

  He was getting swept up in this deception, and he needed to remember that it was all fake and, eventually, everything would go back to the way it was before, when he and Madison were just friends and there were no benefits and he was longing for more.

  Finally, Camila and Tommy made their decision and the cake tasting was over. With the guys and girls now planning to split up for the rest of the afternoon, the grandparents apparently lost interest in hanging out. They all disappeared as quickly as this whole fake engagement had come together in the first place.

  Madison helped her mother summon an Uber back to the rental house, and Kyle had to admit, he breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

  As much as he enjoyed spending time with Madison, now that they’d layered benefits and a fake engagement into the mix, he was ready for a break.

  Camila, Madison, Maecie, and his mom left, and Tommy clapped Kyle on the back. “How about first we go find some drinks?”

  That sounded like an excellent idea.

  Chapter Eleven

  For the first time in her adult life, Madison was having fun.

  And she had Kyle to thank for it.

  The kissing—and don’t forget the shower sex—was totally worth the charade. She hadn’t been kissed like that in…ever. And she probably never would again, so why not enjoy it while it was happening?

  And then there was the whole cake sharing, his constantly touching her, dropping a peck on her forehead. Yeah, she was enjoying this a little too much. They should let everyone know it was fake for her own piece of mind.

  Because she was suddenly wondering, What if I didn’t wait until my student loans are paid off before finding Mr. Right?

  Which was a huge mistake. She had way too much to sort out in her own life before she could let someone else into it, especially someone who could very well become a permanent fixture there.

  Not to mention, they’d made a pact. No emotional involvement. Kyle was a touchy-feely guy in general, so those gestures she found sweet and romantic may very well mean nothing at all to him.

  What if she told him she wanted to cancel the no-emotions rule and he decided he wasn’t interested in the benefits anymore?

  When she, Camila, Maecie, and Deanna arrived at the florist the wedding planner had recommended, Madison tried to shake off those thoughts. She was planning, not being impulsive, getting stressed out over potential scenarios. She was reverting back to the person who would never spontaneously decide to pretend to be engaged to a man who would be perfect to actually be engaged to.

  “What do you mean, you don’t have any blue hydrangeas?” Camila asked the attendant who stood behind the counter, twirling her pink hair and popping gum and looking bored. In a surrounding of flowers and rustic-looking gift items, it was a little like dealing with an out-of-place Harley Quinn.

  The attendant shrugged and focused on her computer screen. “It looks like we couldn’t get them in, so we substituted irises.”

  “Without notifying me?” Camila said, the disbelief so evident in her voice she might as well have said, How dare you do such a thing.

  Not once throughout the planning phase of this wedding had Camila turned into a bridezilla. Was this unplanned flower substitution about to cause the monster to rear its ugly head?

  The attendant’s neck turned a dull red, and she visibly swallowed. “Yes, well, it says in the contract…”

  “I don’t care what your contract says. This is my wedding day, and I think the very least you could have done was notify me ahead of time.”

  The young woman flapped a hand helplessly. “Your wedding is on Wednesday, right? So technically, this is ahead of time.”

  Camila tensed like she was about to leap over the counter and start beating the woman over the head with the nearest bouquet, so Madison edged in front of her sister, in case her skin started to turn green and scaly.

  “Okay, look, it’s pretty clear that irises aren’t going to work,” Madison said.

  “I hate irises,” Camila said, which Madison had never heard her mention before in her life, so she was pretty sure this was Camila reacting to the stress of discovering her flowers were not going to be exactly the way she had envisioned only days before the big moment.

  “Right,” Madison said. “No irises. So what other options do we have?” She offered the attendant a toothy smile, hoping the borderline clueless young woman would figure out how to help fix this situation.

  The florist—or whatever she was, because Madison wasn’t convinced this was the same person they’d been chatting with via phone and email for two months now—tapped a few keys on the computer, and with her eyes glued to the screen said, “We can do plumeria or delphinium or maybe orchids or—”

  “I don’t even know what most of those are,” Camila said.

  “How about you let us see that screen?” Madison suggested faux sweetly. “And are you the person we’ve been working with for the past few months?”

  “Uh-uh,” the young woman mumbled, still not making eye contact. “My aunt runs this place. There’s a beach wedding happening this afternoon, and the bride dropped her bouquet into the ocean, so my aunt hurried up and put a new one together and rushed it over to her.”

  That sounded promising. Madison turned to her sister. “Maybe we should come back later.”

  The attendant turned her computer around, and Camila’s attention was diverted. Madison glanced down at a screen full of pictures of bright flowers and gorgeous bouquets.

  “Delphinium,�
� the attendant said, pointing at the screen. “And it looks like we have snapdragons too. And hyacinth. And gerbera daisies that have been dyed blue.” She shrugged. “Pretty much anything other than hydrangeas.”

  “Of course,” Madison muttered. She looked over her shoulder at Camila, who was staring at the screen with a thoughtful look on her face. “Anything strike your fancy?”

  “What do you think?” Camila asked. “All of you. Well, except for you,” she added with a narrow glance at the attendant.

  Maecie moved closer to peer at the computer as well. “I think it would be cool to have a multicolored bouquet instead of blue and white.” She pointed. “Those snapdragons and the daisies are so pretty.”

  “And the peonies,” Deanna added. “All those colors would look fantastic with your dress. And the girls’ dresses.”

  Madison canted her head. “They’re right.” She glanced at her sister, who slowly nodded, a grin spreading across her face.

  “I can see it.” Camila bobbed her head more firmly. “I love it. Let’s do it.”

  “I’ll have to check with my aunt,” the attendant said.

  “You do that,” Madison said. “And tell her to call us to review the details.” She was certain that if the woman was willing to rush out to save a wedding in the middle of the day, she would be able to change a bouquet she hadn’t even started creating yet.

  “Next stop,” Maecie said, turning toward the door and leading them out onto the sidewalk.

  Camila had ordered crystal champagne flutes engraved with hers and Tommy’s names, and the store was far enough away that it required an Uber ride to get there.

  Polka music blared from the speakers as the three younger women tucked themselves into the back seat while Kyle’s mom slid into the front. As soon as the car drove away from the curb, Camila commented, “You and Kyle sure seem chummy.”

  Oh crap, her sister didn’t know about the fake engagement yet. Actually, none of the women in the car with her did. They hadn’t been at the house this morning, and the grandparents had apparently been playing their own game at the cake tasting, acting stealthy instead of blurting it out like she would have expected.

  This meant she either needed to carry on the ruse by herself, without Kyle’s support—which she wasn’t sure she could do—or do her best to avoid the subject until they were all back together again and she and Kyle could make the big, fake announcement.

  Madison shrugged. “We hang out at home too.”

  “Does he constantly touch you and drop kisses on your temple at home?”

  Maecie gasped. Deanna twisted her head to the side. “What?”

  Madison winced. “You know how Kyle is.”

  “He is very affectionate,” Deanna said. “When he likes someone.”

  Maecie’s eyes went wide. “Kyle has a crush on you?”

  “No!” This wasn’t quite where Madison expected this conversation to go. She’d thought Deanna would agree that Kyle was affection with everyone.

  “I can totally see it,” Camila piped up. “Now that I think about it, I bet he’s had one for a while. At least since Thanksgiving.”

  “What?” Madison yelped, staring at her sister. “No way. We’re friends. He’s a great friend, as a matter of fact.”

  “His father and I were great friends before we started dating, too,” Deanna said. “I believe the term is ‘friends with benefits.’”

  Luckily, Madison wasn’t drinking anything at the moment because she surely would have choked on it. She shook her head. “N-no. That’s not—we aren’t-—he doesn’t feel that way about me.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if he does,” Deanna said before turning back around to face the windshield.

  Madison stared at the back of her head. Surely, that wasn’t true. Kyle would never have agreed to their benefits package if that were the case.

  Would he?

  “After we finish our errands, we are definitely going to need to go someplace for a drink,” Camila announced.

  After a quick stop to grab the stemware and then another to pick up wedding favors and a third to pick up gifts for the grandparents, they decided on a nearby Mexican restaurant.

  Deanna excused herself, offering to take all of the merchandise back to the house for them. Which wasn’t a bad thing. Madison didn’t need Deanna bringing up her past friends-with-benefits relationship with her husband, although… how had they shifted from that sort of agreement to eventually getting married?

  No, no, she did not want to know.

  Soon, the three ladies all had margaritas and a bowl of chips accompanied by salsa and queso parked in the middle of the tabletop. “Okay,” Camila said. “Let’s analyze this.”

  Madison sipped at her tart beverage. “Your flowers? I thought we’d settled on the colorful bouquet.”

  Camila waved her hand. “Totally love the new plan for the bouquet. I’m talking about this crush Kyle has on you.”

  “What? No, we’re not talking about this,” Madison protested.

  Maecie leaned forward. “I keep thinking about it too, and Camila’s right. He definitely has the hots for you.”

  How did they get here? She should have just told them about the fake engagement, damn it. Now what was she supposed to do? Suddenly switch her tune and say, “Yeah, actually, not only that, but we’re engaged.”

  “I can’t do this,” she muttered, grinding her palm into her forehead.

  “If it helps,” Camila said, “he and Elliot are two very different people. If you’re worried it would be weird because they’re brothers.”

  “This has nothing to do with Elliot.” Although he had been pretty upset by the engagement announcement, but she suspected that had more to do with his own issues than her. Elliot had spent his entire life trying to keep up with his older brothers, and he never felt like he’d ever been successful at it.

  “For the record, I think you and Kyle would make a great couple,” Camila said.

  “No,” Madison said.

  “Me too,” Maecie said.

  Camila sipped at her margarita. “Mom would be over the moon because Kyle is a hell of a catch. And she’s afraid you’re going to become a crazy cat lady.”

  “I feel like I need to get a T-shirt made,” Madison muttered. “That’s the third time today someone has suggested I was destined to be alone. Well, except for a bunch of cats, apparently.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Sometimes, the fact that guys could be fairly clueless was a good thing. Because the only thing Tommy and Philip and their dad had noticed was off about the tasting was that Elliot hadn’t attended.

  He hadn’t shown up afterward either, while they were running errands for the wedding, and when Tommy texted him, he replied that he was busy.

  Tommy waved his phone. “The only reason he’s here is for the wedding. How busy could he possibly be?”

  Kyle didn’t respond. He had to find time to talk with his younger brother, get him to open up about why he was so angry about the engagement.

  Kyle supposed, per the bro code, he shouldn’t have even considered dating Madison in the first place.

  Except what they were doing wasn’t dating. Which, honestly, if Elliot knew, would only make things worse.

  Kyle needed to explain so his brother would understand that he hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. And, unfortunately, whatever this was—a crush or feelings or whatever—it wasn’t going away anytime soon. And the longer he and Madison played at being a couple, the more Kyle wanted it to be real. Which meant, even more than smoothing things over with Elliot, he needed to come clean to Madison. Confess his feelings.

  And then, when she admitted she didn’t feel the same, they’d revert back to being just friends. And they would need to tell everyone the engagement was a joke. When that happened, hopefully, Elliot would get over his anger, too.

  And then everyone would be happy. Except Kyle, of course.

  Hours later, they returned to the house for d
inner, then hung out on the dock until the bugs chased them onto the screened in porch, and gradually, everyone began to retire. When Kyle noticed Madison yawning and stretching, he guessed that she would be heading up to bed soon, so he slipped away, upstairs, and waited in their shared bathroom.

  When she opened the door from her bedroom, she jumped and pressed her hand over her heart. “What are you doing in here?”

  He sat on the closed toilet seat with his arms resting on his thighs, his hands clasped loosely between his knees. “I figured it was slightly less creepy than waiting in your bedroom.”

  “Slightly.”

  “We need to talk.” He stood, sliding his palms down the front of his shorts and blowing out a slow breath.

  She waved at the entry to her bedroom. “Why don’t we go in here? Seems like it might be more comfortable.”

  He followed her into the room, noting that little had changed since they’d arrived. The bed was made, there were no piles of dirty shirts and underwear on the floor, and her luggage rested on top of the dresser, with the lid closed. He would bet money that her clothes were hanging in the closet or perfectly folded in the drawers.

  She sat on the bed, curling her leg underneath her, but he started pacing from the nightstand to the end of the bed and back.

  “Stop,” she said, lifting her hand, palm facing out. “Why are you so tied up in knots?”

  He barked out a laugh. “Are you serious? This entire day has been one big…”

  “What?” She canted her head, watching him.

  “Clusterfuck” was probably the right word, but honestly, it hadn’t been, not entirely. In truth, most of it had been fun.

  Wow, he was seriously smitten, wasn’t he?

  Shaking his head, he paced over to the window. “Everyone is going to be furious with us when they find out this engagement is all a ruse.”

  “Come here.” She patted the bed next to her hip.

  He eyed her warily.

  “Just come sit down.”

  He did, and she placed her hands on his shoulders and turned him slightly so that he was facing away from her. And then she dug her fingers into his flesh and he groaned and dropped his head and closed his eyes.