The two of them stared at one another a moment.
“I’ll do my best not to screw things up,” Trevor snapped.
“That is not what I meant.”
He wanted to toss a “whatever” over his shoulder, make a smart remark or smother the moment in humor. Instead, he sat down and remained silent for a second, tamping down his frustration.
Devlin wasn’t Roark. He wasn’t Trevor’s boss and he’d screwed up as much as Trevor ever had. Even more. His concern came from a good place.
A place of understanding.
“Look.” Dev joined him on the blanket, Beau wedging himself between them for double the scratches. “Roark is….being Roark, and he’s micromanaging me because he’s concerned about you. The prom is your first project without one of us and I said I’d talk to you.”
“Because he’d muck it up.”
“Exactly.”
Beau wriggled around, offering his belly and snuffing until someone complied.
“I’m not trying to micromanage you,” Dev said. “Or hover or whatever it is you probably think I’m doing. I hate that shit. I know how it feels. I’m just trying to help.”
“I know. For a second you reminded me of Roark—kind of freaked me out—but I get it.”
With a good-natured smirk, Dev punched Trevor in the arm.
“Ow!”
“Call me Roark again.”
“Damn.” He rubbed his arm and laughed. “Have you always been that strong?”
“Yeah, but it’s been a long time since you made me prove it.”
Until the last year or so, he and Dev hadn’t hung out at all. In their years as teens, hanging out with Devlin wasn’t something he did. Laughing with him was a rarity.
But a lot had changed in the last couple of years. Namely, Trevor was no longer in Peru, hiding from his family and their problems, and Dev wasn’t on self-destruct mode all the time.
Dev was the one who’d reached out over a year ago and asked him to come home.
For that, Trevor would be forever thankful.
Dev peered over the top of his sunglasses. “You’re doing a good job around here. I don’t know if anyone has said so, but you are. Roark gave you the high school’s prom to pull off with a pretty tight budget, and you haven’t really…”
“Ever done this on my own?”
“Basically, yeah.”
Maybe not for Honeywilde, and certainly not when he had the three super Bradleys running everything in the family business, but while volunteering in Peru, he was no slouch. He had plenty of projects and he’d excelled.
His brothers and sister didn’t know or understand what he did down there. But they should know how dedicated he’d been at Honeywilde since his return. Sure, he’d still had his own agenda when he reached out to their mom behind everyone’s back, but that was for the good of the family.
He hadn’t meant to ditch work here and there, but some things took priority over others.
“If this project gets to be too much, don’t be afraid to say something,” Dev said.
“It won’t be too much.”
“Being tied down to a bunch of work isn’t your thing and that’s fine.”
His family had little comprehension about what was his thing, and that was okay. They didn’t know, because he didn’t tell them. He didn’t tell them lots of things.
“Sophie told me about your wanting to go to South America again, so if you think you won’t have time—”
Except for that.
“Let me stop you right there.” Trevor turned toward his brother, and Beau’s head popped up at his tone. “My summer plans aren’t Sophie’s to share. She knows only because she’s nosey. I talked to Roark about it, in theory. But yeah, I want to take a few weeks off at the end of the summer to travel. End of the summer, as in months from now. As in long after this prom is over.”
“Okay, okay.” Dev’s hands went up. “I’m only checking.”
“Do you remember how much you loved people checking on you a year ago?”
His brother had the good sense to look contrite. “Fair enough. If you say you’ve got the prom thing covered, I’m done asking.”
“I’ve got the prom thing covered. And if you make me reassure you again, I’m going to punch you back.”
With a cocky smile, Dev leaned back. “You can try.”
Trevor shoved him off balance and laughed.
“I might actually miss you if you leave for a month,” Dev said.
“Sure you will.”
“I will. You’ve earned the vacation time, but a few weeks is a long time.”
“The three of you have this place clicking along like a fine-tuned car. And Marco is killing it in the kitchen. I think you’ll do just fine without me for a few weeks.”
“Your help is not what I meant. I’ll miss that too, but more than that, I’ll miss having you around.”
Trevor studied his hands rather than pay too much attention to what could possibly pass as a compliment. “Oh.”
“I’ll have to deal with Roark and Sophie all by myself. Like two caffeinated bees buzzing around here. You should be worried about me, not the other way around.”
Dev tried to keep his tone light, but there was obvious concern in his comment.
Older-brother habits died hard, and he was the only one who might understand why Trevor had to leave Honeywilde years ago.
“You don’t need to worry. I’m not going to disappear on y’all again. I’ve saved up more than enough money because I haven’t gone anywhere or done anything in almost two years. And I’ll be back home afterward, business as usual.”
Lips pinched, Dev nodded.
He didn’t seem convinced. Understandable, considering that the last time Trevor went on vacation, he’d gone to Peru for a couple of weeks and ended up staying for over a year. He’d joined a nonprofit, traveled around a few countries, built houses, a school, hiked, met people. Lived a life outside of Windamere. Found some happiness and escaped the turmoil that used to be Honeywilde’s default setting.
Things were different now.
Honeywilde was calm. More like home. He had no reason to run away.
Dev cleared his throat, shifting on the blanket. “Have you, uh, talked to Mom recently?”
Trevor fought not to let the surprise show.
Their mother was a tremulous topic. He and Sophie were the only Bradleys who kept the lines of communication open. Dev actively fought against it.
At least, at first.
“Not in a few weeks. I was thinking sometime before Mother’s Day. Maybe.”
His brother nodded.
“Just a phone call though, you know?”
“No more unannounced visits?” Dev asked.
“No, not again.”
With a grunt, he nodded again. “But a phone call might be nice. You know, if you wanted to.”
Trevor grinned. That was Devlin-ese for giving his approval on a phone call.
“I’ll let you know when I call. And, Dev?” He waited until his brother looked his way. “I’m not going to take off again. I promise. I’m not that guy anymore.”
A breeze from the lake rustled through the trees.
Dev straightened his legs and leaned back, tilting his chin up toward the sun. “Good. Nothing wrong with the guy you were, but I like having you around. Believe it or not, we all like having you around.”
Again, his brother’s tone was light, but meaning weighted his words.
Believing his family actually missed him remained a challenge. They’d always let him be himself, even if they never understood him, but his entire life he’d been the odd man out. Sure, Dev had his drama over the years, but a lot of Bradley energy was spent on worrying or rescuing him.
Trevor was the quiet one. No one tried t
o rescue him when he withdrew completely at fourteen, because no one really noticed. They were all too busy.
When he graduated high school and decided to road trip cross-country, he didn’t bother telling anyone and no one asked. He just went.
And when he moved out of the inn the last two winters to stay in one of the empty yurts, his brothers and sister raised their collective eyebrows, but they didn’t say a word.
Having them slowly involved, more and more, in his life, was weird. He’d gone it alone for so long, letting them in was unnatural, even if welcome.
“Trevor?”
He sat up straighter at the sound of his name, and he knew the voice before he laid eyes on her.
In a split second, he was on his feet. “Brooke. Hey. What are you doing here?”
Devlin’s gaze followed his, and Beau popped up, tail wagging a million miles an hour. Then Beau charged toward Brooke, at full speed.
Rather than shrink back at the seventy pounds of brown, floppy fur barreling toward her, Brooke reached out to pet him. “My goodness, who are you? You weren’t at the wedding.”
“That’s Beau.” Trevor tried to grab his collar, but the boy wasn’t having it. He circled Brooke, tongue lolling, eyes full of wonder.
Trevor could sympathize.
“Beau,” he tried to scold.
“It’s okay, he probably smells Beans.”
“Beans? As in baked?”
Her nose wrinkled comically. “Huh? Oh! No, no, Beans is our pug’s name. And this must be the dog you told me about at the wedding.”
“The one and only. He’s too rowdy to attend in person.”
Brooke straightened and shielded her eyes from the sun with a hand on her forehead.
“You must be the Brooke from Chateau Jolie.” Devlin rose from the blanket.
Trevor had lost track of his brother’s presence. “Brooke was at your wedding.”
“That’s right. Sophie told me.” Devlin offered his hand. “Sorry, I had tunnel vision that day. We were in school together too, right?”
“I had a couple of classes with your brother Roark.”
“We probably didn’t run in the same circles, huh?”
“Not really.”
For a silent moment that seemed an eternity, his brother glanced back and forth between him and Brooke. “All right. Well, good seeing you. Thanks for coming to the wedding and good luck with the prom. I better get back to work.” Dev gave Trevor a sideways glance and strolled away.
“How did you manage to find us out here?” Trevor asked.
“Sophie said this is where you’d probably be.”
So much for this being his perfect hiding spot.
“I wanted to talk to you about the prom.”
“Good. Me too. I was going to call you today. I came up with a few ideas. Ways to make the whole thing different and memorable, but they shouldn’t take a lot of time.”
With a tight smile, Brooke moved across the clearing so the sun was at her back. “Actually, I’m here about the budget. I already have ideas and plans around how we’re going to make it all work in time, but…”
“But?”
“I need you in order to discuss the money.”
Trevor rocked back on his heels. “Right.” She needed him for Honeywilde’s half of the funds. Beyond that, she’d probably prefer a silent partner.
“You already have plans, huh? That’s good. But, you know, the high school’s prom committee will have plans and opinions too. I wouldn’t get attached to anything until you meet with the committee chairs. When do you meet with them?”
She attempted to mask her reaction, but a flash of concern filled her gaze before she could chase it away. “Tomorrow. I thought I’d show them around. Present some of my ideas. Guide them in the right direction.”
“Good thinking. Let’s hear your ideas.”
“What, now?”
“Sure.” He sat back down on his blanket and patted the open spot next to him.
Beau obliged immediately.
Brooke remained standing.
“Come on. I want to hear all about these plans. And…” He reached into his backpack. “I have snacks. Trail mix, waters. I brought some cookies that Marco made yesterday.”
“Cookies?”
That got Brooke’s attention, and she slowly approached the blanket. “I’ve heard Honeywilde’s cookies are to die for.”
“These are s’mores cookies. So, if chocolate chunks and marshmallow are your thing, then you might like them. I guess.”
“I’m willing to try and see.” Brooke sat on the blanket, with Beau settling right beside her.
Half a cookie in, Trevor dusted the crumbs off his jeans. “These prom plans, let’s hear ’em.”
As proper as she could, with a cookie in one hand and petting a dog with another, Brooke listed off her ideas.
All fine and formal, fussy, and standard adult plans for the kind of party thrown at a chateau, but they weren’t right.
There was nothing wrong with her ideas. They weren’t awful, per se, but teenagers clearly weren’t her usual target market.
Trevor stuffed the rest of his cookie into his mouth and chewed. And thought. “Okay,” he said when finished. “Those aren’t completely terrible, but for teenagers, everything you mentioned feels…staid.”
“Staid?”
“Super staid.”
Her plush lips opened in a perfect O of outrage.
“I didn’t say your ideas sucked. They need more oomph though.”
She crossed her arms, Beau whining at the sudden lack of contact. “Let me guess. You have the oomph to add.”
“I’ve got all kinds of oomph.” He crossed his arms too.
Brooke glanced away, but he saw her smile. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I’ve been told. But in all seriousness, these kids deserve the best. Isn’t that what you want? This prom needs to be unexpectedly amazing, right? I’m good at the unexpected. After what they’ve gone through, these juniors and seniors need all that froufrou stuff you’re familiar with, but they aren’t a bunch of fifty-year-olds going to a charity ball. Kids need pizazz. A ball and a shindig. We’ve got to give them a mix of both.”
Fighting another smile, she met his gaze.
After a long pause of bottom-lip chewing, releasing it pinker and plumper than before, driving him to distraction and utter madness, Brooke dropped her hands to her side. “Fine, you may have a point. I’ve done balls, but I don’t think I’ve ever hosted a shindig.”
“Not to worry. I’ve got the shindiggery on lock.”
Finally, she lost her battle, and a pop of laughter escaped. “I guess we’re in luck then. But there’s something we have to discuss first.”
“Please don’t say a string quartet.”
“Money.”
“What about it?”
“I need the money from Honeywilde. If I’m going to move ahead with plans, I need to know what kind of budget we’re working with.”
“Oh, that money. You and I need to meet with the prom committee first, see what they have in mind and, split between the two hotels, tally up what we can give them.”
She pinched her lips together again.
“You did say you’re meeting the committee at Jolie tomorrow, right?”
“Yes, but—”
“Then let’s meet with them first and then figure out the rest.”
Her shoulders tensed. “I guess that makes sense.”
“Trevor?” Sophie called out his name before she came into view. “Trev!” She skidded to a halt at the edge of the clearing. “Oh. Hey, Brooke. I’m sorry to interrupt, but Trev, I need you. We have to set up the tables on the patio for that book club’s tea today. Well, knowing this book club, tea and a few bottles of wine too.”
“Okay, but we’re not done here.”
A smile spread across Sophie’s lips, taking up half her face underneath her ridiculously floppy hat. “Brooke can come too. Y’all can finish talking while you put up tables. You don’t mind, do you, Brooke? We’re serving Jolie’s wine to the book club. You can make sure we pick out wines best paired with a southern gothic novel. Come on.” Without waiting for a response from either of them, Sophie started back toward the inn.
“I guess we’re setting up tables now.”
“Apparently.”
Trevor reached for his blanket and handed Brooke one end to help him fold. “Sophie’s like a whirlpool. If you stand too close, you get sucked in.”
“I see that. But I can’t stay long.”
“That’s okay. We can do yoga some other day.”
Brooke stopped short, eyes wide as she scrunched up her nose. “I didn’t come here to—We weren’t doing yoga.”
Trevor plucked the corners of the blanket from her hands, his fingers brushing hers as he finished folding. “Not yet we weren’t. Sheesh. Patience. We’ll get to it.”
Her complete bafflement gave way to a smile when she realized he was messing with her. “It’s like that, huh?”
If by “that,” she meant he couldn’t resist flirting with her, then yes. It was exactly like that.
Chapter 8
Against all better judgment, Brooke followed Trevor back to Honeywilde and down into the basement where they kept all of their linens.
This was only to satisfy her sick curiosity about how the competition operated, the inner workings of their management team, and how much ivory-colored linen one place could own. Following him around had absolutely nothing to do with spending more time around him, or any amusement she might find at his playful disposition.
Chances were good he wouldn’t be amused at all if she told him there’d be no way Jolie could go halvsies on this prom budget.
They’d be lucky if they could even go thirdsies.
Trevor rolled a cart from around the corner and tossed a stack of tablecloths on top of it “I meant to ask, how’s your sister doing after the other night?”
“She’s fine.”
“She’ll be even better after a little time away from Rex Richards.”
No One Like You Page 5