Copper Lining (The Cardwell Family Series Book 3)

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Copper Lining (The Cardwell Family Series Book 3) Page 9

by Christy Pastore


  Minka stares at me, her hazel eyes brim with surprise.

  “Man, are you sure?”

  “Yeah, Sonny and I’ll have a great time.”

  Theo shakes my hand. “Thanks, I’ll text Jade and let her know.”

  “Happy to help. Text me the details.”

  Theo checks the hitch and then jumps into his truck. The square is nearly empty by the time we walk back to my truck.

  “Babysitter, huh?” Minka asks, her hands in her back pockets.

  “Lemme guess, you don’t see it?”

  She smiles. “I saw how good you were with Sonny earlier. I can see it.”

  I open the passenger door. A second later, her hand moves to my back. She doesn’t say anything, but somehow it feels intimate.

  I drive Minka to the grocery store to buy baking supplies. It doesn’t surprise me when she loads up with a surplus of confections. What does surprise me is she agreed to come to my place and bake.

  Despite her silence, I can tell she doesn’t want to be alone. And I don’t want her to be alone. Not after the bombshell that her sister dropped on her today.

  I maneuver my truck down the dirt road. Once we’re past the trees, our family lake house comes into view. The lake is manmade. Once a small little marshy area, it now spans acres of land.

  “Wow, I didn’t picture you living in a huge house like this.”

  I ease into the garage and shut off the engine. “I feel like that’s the theme of the day. You don’t picture me in the truck or the house, but you picture me in something. At least I know you’re thinking about me.”

  She laughs. “You wish. Just some observations.”

  Once inside, I place the grocery bags on the island near the refrigerator. My mom had two large butcher block islands installed.

  When I was a little kid, we used to spend almost all the holidays here. I remember Grandma, Mom, Haven, and Maybelle making sugar cookies while Royston and Dad argued over football. Me and Brant would be upstairs in the game room watching the same game avoiding their arguing.

  “This place is incredible.” Minka walks into the dining room and runs her hand along the handcrafted wood table. “I’ve never seen so much stone, brick, and wood.”

  “This used to be an old dairy barn. My family had the original structure dismantled stone by stone. They used restored limestone, reclaimed timber, and what your standing on is fir. The steel windows are my favorite part of the design.”

  “Well, the view sure is incredible. Is this the only house on this lake?”

  “No, we have a few neighbors on that side of the lake. If you look to the left, you can see a tiny part of a white house.”

  She leans and stands up on her tiptoes for a better view. “Oh yeah, I can see it.”

  “That used to be Uncle Royston’s place, but Maybelle sold it.” I rub my palms together. “Ready to bake?”

  She steps into the kitchen and sets her palms onto the island. “This kitchen is bigger than my living room, kitchen, and dining room back home. My entire house would fit inside here.”

  “Feel free to make yourself at home here. So, what are we making? Cupcakes?”

  “Nope, s’mores brownies. They’re amazing, if I do say so myself, and going to hit the spot.”

  “There’s a fire pit by the lake, I can save you the trouble and we can just do it the old-fashioned way.”

  “I told you I need to bake.” She shoves at my shoulder.

  Minka’s been touching me a lot today. I’m convinced that she still wants me. Minka pulls up the recipe on my iPad and I help her gather the cooking utensils. She preheats the oven and lines the baking dish with parchment paper.

  I walk toward the bar in the living room. “You want something to drink?” I splash some bourbon into a tumbler.

  “White wine, if you have it,” she calls out.

  When I come back into the kitchen, she gives me a sidelong glance and a smile.

  “What?”

  “Oh, nothing.”

  “Bullshit, tell me.” I pull a bottle of pinot grigio from the wine fridge.

  “I was thinking about Maui.”

  “What about Maui?”

  She adds graham crackers to the pan. “Well, when we were walking back to your place, I didn’t picture you living there. I pictured you living in a van or a modest apartment with a mattress on the floor and no pillowcases. Empty pizza boxes and beer cans everywhere.”

  I slide the glass of wine in front of her. “Wow. You’ve got this whole opinion of me and I have no idea why. And that’s why you don’t picture me driving a truck. You have me pegged for a van guy.”

  Ignoring my comment, Minka takes a sip of the wine. “Unwrap the sticks of butter and put them in the melting pan, would you?”

  I salute her and do as she asks. “How about we discuss Maui. Why were you there alone?”

  She sighs and measures the sugar. “My daughter, Celia, was with her dad for spring break, and I just wanted to check a few things off my bucket list. Sort some things out.”

  “What kind of things?”

  Minka walks to the stove and stirs the butter with a wooden spoon. “The direction of my career, mainly.”

  “Which is going?”

  She lifts a shoulder. “Upward, which is a good thing . . . a wonderful thing. I’m building a brand and a legacy for my daughter. But I don’t know if I like the spotlight so much.”

  “I get that. My sister, Haven, is a celebrity publicist. Celebrity, it’s a crazy world.”

  “Yeah, I’d much rather be curled up with my laptop and writing. The television appearances are nice, and it definitely increases my social media following, but what does that really mean anymore?”

  “Don’t ask me.” I hold up my hands. “I don’t use social media that much. I know it has its value for seller to consumer.”

  She turns to face me. “You don’t use social media much, which means that you use it some. I looked all over for Weston/Wes Cardwell. There was nothing.”

  “So, you’re stalking me now?” I tease.

  She gives me a playful smile. “Maybe.”

  “Well, you won’t find Wes Cardwell on social media. But you will find Zachary Weston on Instagram.”

  Minka turns off the burner and then whisks the sugar with the butter. “Why Zachary Weston?”

  I roll my shoulder back and laugh. “Zachary is my middle name. I just want to be able to look through Insta and post cool pics, not selfies.”

  My brother chooses this moment to call me. I ignore it.

  Minka cocks a brow. “Don’t you need to take that?” She cracks two eggs into a glass bowl and then adds them to her mixture.

  “Nah, it’s just Brant. I’m sure he wants to know how the market went. I’ll text him later.”

  “Oh, thought maybe it was Theo about babysitting Sonny tonight.”

  “You want to come along?”

  “I don’t want to miss the chance to see you in action with a four-year-old. I can’t imagine how you’ll entertain him.”

  I laugh watching her as she pours in the cocoa powder and flour. “That’s easy, lots of sugar and endless cartoons. Probably Peppa Pig.”

  She snorts a laugh and it’s the most adorable sound. “What do you know about Peppa Pig?

  “It’s just awesome. It’s probably the well-crafted character design, but none of that matters to kids. They just like the vibrant colors and fun sounds.”

  Just as Minka pours the batter over the graham crackers, my phone chimes.

  Theo: Hey, can you be at our house at five-thirty? The concert starts at eight, but we’re having dinner with friends first.

  Me: Sure thing. Is it okay if Minka comes with me?

  Theo: Absolutely.

  “We have to be at Theo’s place at five-thirty.”

  Minka’s face scrunches. “These need three hours to cool before I can add the marshmallow topping.”

  “Hmm, you can always come back here after and finish the job. Or
you can bring them and finish at Theo’s place.”

  “That’s a good idea,” she says, tapping the oven timer. “Then we can eat them for dessert.”

  Part of me was hoping this is how I’d ask her to spend the night with me. Oh well, at least I’d get the evening with her.

  I help Minka clean up. I wash the dishes and she dries them. The kitchen starts to smell like chocolate cake and my mouth waters a little bit.

  When I’m finished putting the clean dishes away. I refill her wine and top off my bourbon.

  “Come on, and I’ll show you around. You need to see the coolest part of the house.”

  A modern glass and steel walkway connects the dairy barn to the main house.

  “Wow, this house gets more impressive.”

  We trek through the mudroom and then outside. The sun is shining, but you can smell the rain that’s coming.

  “I give you . . . a water feature. Granddad had The Creamery’s old-fashioned aquifer updated and Mom and Dad modernized it a few years ago.”

  “I’ve said it ten times, this place is really beautiful.”

  Her phone vibrates and when she glances at the screen, she frowns.

  I dip my head to meet her eyes. “You okay? Is it something with your daughter?”

  She blows out a breath and tucks her dark hair behind her ear. “No, Celia’s having a ball. I got a progress report yesterday. This is my sister, Anya. Apparently, Zara freaked out about seeing me today and went on the defensive. She told Anya about her relationship with both men. Now Anya’s worried about how this will look to her upper crust society friends. And how it will impact my reputation.”

  “Sounds like she’s coming from a good place.”

  Minka drops into one of the wooden chairs. “No, Anya’s not worried about me. She’s a narcissist. Anya only worries about herself. Everyone else is just a pawn.”

  “Sorry to hear that. It’s shitty.”

  Minka gives me a small smile and then returns her focus to the pond. I feel for her, and I still can’t believe what Zara told her. It sucks getting blindsided.

  “That’s my family.” She takes a long drink of wine. “With a family like mine, who needs enemies.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

  Tell me. I want to know you.

  Instead of prying, I sit down in the chair across from her. The warm air whips her hair across her face.

  “My dad was an airline pilot. He was gone a lot. When I was in high school, he just left one day and never came back. Three years went by and then he showed up on Mom’s doorstep one Sunday afternoon. Turns out he’d been living in San Francisco with his new girlfriend. He asked my mom for a divorce and she gave it to him. Told her he was starting a new life and he didn’t want to be a part of ours anymore.”

  My heart crashes into my ribcage. That’s a raw deal.

  “Three years ago, my father passed away.” Her hands cradle the globe of her wineglass. “I found out through a letter that was sent to my business address. The letter contained a printed copy of his obituary.”

  I reach for her and rub my thumb against her knee. “I’m sorry, Minka. No one should get sad news delivered like that.”

  She lifts a shoulder. “Yeah. But what’s sadder is that I felt nothing. I could’ve gone my whole life and I wouldn’t have given a shit knowing if he was alive or dead. I’m sure this sounds hateful. You’ve got a wonderful family, Brant’s great and Maybelle’s just as sweet as can be.”

  I chuckle. “Maybelle has her moments. Don’t let her fool you.” I swallow down a gulp of bourbon. “When she was a little kid, her mom took off. It was difficult for Maybelle. Her dad was busy with the company and she didn’t have any siblings. Years later, her mom showed up out of the blue. I think Shipley stayed for a couple of months, maybe longer. She ended up stealing all the money from Maybelle’s graduation party. No one has heard from her since.”

  “Wow, that’s crazy. I worried that my dad would show up one day after seeing me on television or something, thinking I had all this money to spare. You just never know what life will throw your way or what kind of crazy you’re dealing with.”

  She places her wineglass on the side table. The silver bracelet slides down her wrist when she sweeps her hair away from her face.

  “Speaking of crazy.” My voice teases the last word. “Can I get the story on the bracelet? And why you dove into danger for it.”

  A small smile touches her lips, and she fingers the chain. “My daughter gave it to me.”

  “Oh.” Surprise clocks me in the gut.

  “Yeah. So, you can see why I did what I did. Even if it was . . .”

  “Crazy.”

  “I was going to say reckless. I’m sorry about putting the two of us in danger. And I’m glad you were there.”

  I smile, remembering how fearless she’d been that day. Now that I know her a little better, I can understand why she did what she did.

  My mind wanders to her bikini-clad body and how she felt in my arms. How her lips felt against mine.

  Okay. Stop.

  You promised her that you’d keep things professional.

  “Celia’s dad took her shopping for my birthday years ago,” she says. “That year Celia gave me this bracelet and Noah gave me the privilege of seeing him screwing some groupie in our walk-in closet.”

  I choke on my bourbon. “Are you serious?”

  She stands and rubs her palm between my shoulder blades. Her palm strikes gentle thumps in between coughs. A few deep breaths later, I’m all good.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, wrong pipe. You were saying about your ex-husband.”

  She sits on the edge of the chair. “There’s not much more to tell. He’d been screwing around on me for a year. When I found out, I filed for divorce and that was the end of it. No second chance. No counseling. I was done.”

  I shake my head. “I can’t imagine. What an ass.”

  Minka’s been burned. Burned by her dad. Her sisters. And her ex. No wonder she’s keeping me at a distance.

  “Yeah, and the saddest part of all is how carelessly Noah threw away our family. Celia’s the one who suffered. She didn’t understand why he had to move out. And I wasn’t going to smash the image she has of her father. It was rough at first. She blamed me for making him go away. Months went by, and it was like she hated me.” Minka took a deep breath and picked up her glass. “Then one day, her whole attitude toward me changed.”

  “Do you know why?”

  Minka swallows a gulp of wine. “I have no clue. I keep hoping she’ll want to talk to me about her feelings. But if she’s happy, then that’s all that matters to me.”

  “Yeah.”

  We sit in the quiet, the sounds of water rushing through the aquifer and nature fill in the spaces between. I keep my focus on the ripples in the pond, but my mind is all over the place.

  Working at the market with Minka today, baking with her, and now this. I feel happy myself. I haven’t felt this good since I’ve been here. Could I be happy here? Or is it just that I’m with Minka and being with her makes me happy?

  It doesn’t matter. I need to forget about a relationship with her. She’s made it clear that Maui was Maui. Maui doesn’t equal Mayfield.

  Just as I polish off my drink, Minka’s cellphone chimes.

  “Brownies are done,” she chirps and bounces up out of her chair.

  The beating of my heart surges when Minka’s smile broadens. I can’t help but wonder if it’s the brownies or being here with me that put that smile on her face.

  Gotta be the brownies.

  Minka

  After we get Jade and Theo out the door, we bring the brownies and the ingredients for the topping into the kitchen. Sonny’s attached to Wes’ hip with every step he takes.

  “Airplane, Wes! Airplane now.”

  Wes laughs. “In a minute, buddy. Why don’t you color a picture for me while I
help Minka with the brownies? You like chocolate, right?”

  He nods and darts into the living room. Their house is about the size of my bungalow back in California. I love the herringbone pattern on the hardwood floors. Jade and Theo have a large farmhouse sink that sits under a window that takes up most of the wall. It’s a gorgeous focal point.

  “The brownies still have a little while to cool. Should we color with Sonny?”

  “How about we go outside,” he suggests. “Before the rain hits.”

  Wes picks Sonny up and gives him the airplane ride he’s been dying for since we came through the door.

  “Vroom, vroom . . . more, more,” Sonny shouts as I hold the screen door open.

  “I don’t think that’s the sound a plane makes, little man.” Wes looks to me for help, all I can do is shrug.

  “I’m not little,” Sonny tells Wes.

  Wes swings him a little higher into the air and then dips him back to the earth. Sonny spins around and falls onto the grass, laughing and shouting for more.

  “This is some play area you got here, kiddo.”

  Wes smiles at me. “Yeah, we didn’t have anything like this when I was growing up.” He puts Sonny on the rock-climbing wall. Wes’ hand presses against Sonny’s back as he climbs up to the top.

  “We had a swing, and that was about it. My sisters and I spent little time outside as kids.”

  Sonny runs across the bridge to the slide and glides down into the sandbox. Distracted by the Tonka trucks and tractors that line his play area, Sonny scoops up sand with a shovel.

  “Unlike you, I spent a lot of time outside when I was a kid. We rode horses and spent every hot day we could in the pool. Mom insisted we took art and music classes when we were home on summer breaks from school to meet the local kids.”

  My brows scrunch together. “You didn’t go to school here?”

  “No. All three of us went to boarding school. When I was sixteen, I spent a summer in Amsterdam. Touring through Europe started my itch for traveling. I realized there was so much more to see and do.”

  Right. He’s a nomad.

  “Rumor has it that you came back here to help Brant rebuild the company. Where will you go once that’s happened?”

  Wes laughs and leans his shoulder against the trunk of one of the large trees in the yard. “Who knows? It could be years before we repair the damage that’s been done to Cardwell Bourbon.”

 

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