“Gran!” he called.
And when Miss Lily’s head turned in Ian’s direction, her face beaming, I clenched my jaw and forced another smile.
“Ian!” Miss Lily cried, hopping to her feet with the energy and grace that never failed to amaze me. She rushed toward him and stepped into his hug.
I really, really did not like that man. How could someone as awesome as Miss Lily produce a grandson as stuck-up and judgy as Ian?
I hoped I’d managed to control my expression when Miss Lily waved me over with an order to, “Come say hello!”
What was it about this man that tied my stomach in knots?
It wasn’t like he made me nervous in a good way. He made me nervous in a bad way. In a Harrison Rink and Warren Holt kind of way.
Since I’d been a teenager, if I couldn’t navigate a situation with humor, I’d been able to navigate it with grit.
Until them.
Until Rink.
Until he’d stripped my sense of self away and left me clawing for any semblance of security.
That was over. I’d found my last bit of courage and left, but I’d lost so much of myself in the process. And now, a big, arrogant, entitled jerk like Ian was all it took to make me feel small again.
I rose from the dirt and squared my shoulders. No more. I was done making myself small for anyone.
“Hello, Ian.” I crossed the garden to join Miss Lily. “We don’t see you for months and now you’re here for two weekends in a row. How...nice.”
He blinked, his eyes narrowing for the tiniest second before he recovered. Good. He didn’t miss my real meaning. “I forgot until last weekend how much I like being out here. I won’t make the mistake of leaving Gran alone so often again.”
Why did that sound like a warning? What was this guy’s problem?
“I’m hardly alone, Ian,” Miss Lily objected as she slid her arm through his. “Mary is always great company, and Brooke here has been an absolute breath of fresh air.”
“I agree with Ian,” I said. “There’s no real substitute for family, is there?” Come around more, you selfish idiot. Heaven knows why your grandmother ever misses you, but she does.
“Can’t argue with that,” Ian said. “And I’m here to make sure you get all the love and attention you need.” He dropped a kiss on his gran’s fluffy white hair.
“I always have that in spades, but I’ll never say no to more.” She smiled up at him.
“Well, I’ll leave you two to enjoy each other,” I said. “I need to get dinner started anyway.”
“I’m glad you’re here, actually,” Ian said. “I was pretty distracted last weekend and I didn’t have a chance to get to know you very well. I’d love to get to know Gran’s first new neighbor in years and thank you for keeping an eye on my favorite person.”
“That’s an excellent idea, Ian. Such a good boy. You should take her out to dinner.”
“That’s not what I meant, Gran.”
“Doesn’t mean it’s not a good idea,” Gran said. “You should go to Caps! As in mushrooms,” she added, smiling at me.
“Uh, sorry?” Had I missed a step in the conversation?
“Caps specializes in mushroom dishes. Funny name for a restaurant, isn’t it? Don’t worry, they make plenty of other delicious dishes too. Best risotto I’ve had outside of Florence. Get that.”
Yeah, right. The last thing I wanted to do was spend an awkward evening trying to dodge Ian’s jabs. I opened my mouth to say so, but Miss Lily spoke up first.
“You’ll love it. They do a peach shortbread with a whipped mascarpone topping that is to die for. And at eighty, I don’t say that lightly.”
“Oh, I don’t think tonight will work,” I said. “I’ve got so much work to do still.”
“You just said you were going to make dinner. Use that time to let someone else make it for you, and Ian is an added bonus. He’s a charming dinner companion.”
I had never had a reason to doubt Miss Lily until now. Clearly, she had some bias here. Ian had been anything but charming up to this point. I tried to sidestep the invitation again. “That’s all right. You two should go enjoy it. You can tell me all about it tomorrow.”
“Nonsense,” Miss Lily declared. “I can’t get a moment’s peace when I go into town to eat. Everyone wants to stop by my table and visit. But you two will be left alone, and it will make me happy to sit and have a peaceful night with Mary and imagine you two enjoying some truly divine cooking.”
There was no way to escape this gracefully. I couldn’t care less about offending Ian, but offend Miss Lily? I’d rather eat wormy dirt.
“Gran’s never wrong about food,” Ian said. “What do you say we give it a try? I’ll swing by at seven-thirty.”
“Sure.” I offered my most neighborly smile, but the slight twitch on Ian’s lips suggested I must look more annoyed than neighborly. Too bad. “But I want to be home early, so make it seven o’clock.” The sooner we started, the sooner we’d get it over with.
“Sounds great. I’ll be there promptly.”
“Good boy,” Miss Lily said, patting his arm. “Now you come help me finish this weeding so Brooke can go gussy up.”
“I’m not going to gussy up,” I protested.
“Definitely don’t bother on my account,” Ian said. “Creekville won’t mind your understated look.”
My “understated look”?! Oh, I’d show him “understated.” But all I said was, “See you soon.” Then I gathered my garden tote and headed toward my house without a backward glance.
When a knock sounded on the door at exactly seven o’clock, I glanced over my reflection and gave the sexy woman smiling back at me a wink. I’d taken a long shower to steam the garden dirt from beneath my nails and off my skin. I’d worked with the humidity and applied some curl spray while I dried my hair, leaving the long strands to fall in loose waves that looked more dark gold than light brown tonight. I couldn’t do much about covering my freckles, but I didn’t care. I liked the feel of the sun streaming down on my head and shoulders while I worked in the garden without a hat, and the freckles were a fair trade.
I’d picked a sleeveless coral shift and four-inch sandals, determined to limit the amount of looming Ian Greene could do with the six inches of height he had on me. I topped it off with a pearl pendant on a thin silver chain. “You got class for days, sis.” Understated, Ian had said. I snorted. Understated elegance, maybe. What a jagweed.
I went to answer the door before he could knock again. I pulled it open just as he lifted his hand. The result was him standing with his fist in the air, pointlessly, while he looked confused at having nothing to do with it. Maybe punch your own face, dude. But he just let it drift down after a second.
“You look nice.”
Nice? I lifted an eyebrow. “Don’t sound so surprised.”
“Uh, right.” He gave me a quick scan, and I appreciated that it didn’t feel creepy. “Well, I guess we should go?” He stepped back to let me pass.
I smiled once I was sure he couldn’t see me because I knew I would only look smug. He’d clearly expected to find me in overalls and Miss Lily’s garden dirt, “understated” for dinner. But I was Linda Spencer’s daughter, raised in the cotillions and country clubs of one of the wealthiest zip codes in the country, and I definitely knew how to clean up “nice.” Poor dummy.
My smugness lasted exactly three seconds until my heel caught on a nail in the porch board I’d been meaning to hammer down for a month. I pitched forward, windmilling toward the stairs. I squeaked and swung my arms in a wild effort to regain my balance, but I tilted, tilted, tilted—
And suddenly found myself upright again, yanked back by Ian’s strong arm wrapped around my waist, holding me against his chest.
His hard, broad chest.
“You okay?” His voice was a warm rumble against my back.
“Fine.” Had that been a hint of laughter in his voice? “Been meaning to take care of that nail for a while.�
�
“Nail?”
“Yes.” I pushed lightly at his arm and took the three steps leading to the front path. I turned and pointed to the offending nail. “I tripped on that.”
“Sure. High heels must be tricky if you’re not used to them, especially when you have random nails trying to sabotage you.”
Not used to them? Like I was a ten-year-old playing dress up? And was his voice a touch too understanding when he said that? Oh, he was smooth. I’d have to stay sharp to keep up with all his passive-aggressive insults. He was good enough for me to wonder if my mother had raised him too.
Ugh. The last thing I wanted to do was spend the evening navigating subtext with a guy I couldn’t stand, but at least I had the skills for it. Do your worst, Ian Greene. I’m ready.
The drive to Caps was short, only ten minutes, filled with sporadic small talk about the weather and Miss Lily’s garden.
We took the last spot in the parking lot. It was a good sign that the restaurant was bustling. A quiet restaurant parking lot on a Friday night wouldn’t suggest good food, but Caps was hopping. Now I had to hope that we weren’t stuck with a long wait, making more awkward small talk.
“Table for two,” Ian said to the smartly dressed hostess when we stepped into the crowded entry.
I tried not to stress. Great. Long wait and awkward chatter it would be.
“Name, please?” the hostess asked.
“Ian.”
“Greene?” She asked, looking up from her list.
“Yes,” he confirmed with a note of surprise.
“Your table is ready. Miss Lily called ahead.”
Ian smiled. “Of course she did.”
“She also said to tell you not to be mad, but she ordered for you.”
This earned her a laugh from Ian, and I had to smile too.
“Also not a surprise,” he said. “Can’t wait to find out what I’m having for dinner.”
The hostess led us to a cozy booth tucked into the back corner of the restaurant, far from the bustle of kitchen traffic. She left us with a smile and not a single menu.
“Gran is a tiny tyrant,” Ian said.
“A benevolent tyrant.” I wrinkled my nose in a way an ex-boyfriend had called adorable, so I’d broken up with him. Kittens were adorable. Not grown women. “Is that a thing? A benevolent tyrant?”
“It’s a pretty accurate description,” Ian said. “So I guess it’s a thing.”
A waiter approached the table with a bottle of wine. “A Chenin blanc, courtesy of Mrs. Greene,” he said, pouring a generous glass for each of us. “Oaked, with buttery top notes.”
“A dry white,” Ian said. “Interesting. I’m guessing we’re having poultry.”
The first course was the stuffed mushroom caps Miss Lily had raved over. I bit into one and gave a nod. “She wasn’t lying. These are delicious. I have faith in whatever else she chose.”
“Gran has excellent taste. Usually.”
There it was again, that hint of ... something in his voice. An undercurrent. I wasn’t imagining it.
What was the best way to disarm this man so that he’d stop with his overbearing protectiveness of his grandmother? Miss Lily could handle herself with anyone, and I posed no threat to her. She’d vaulted over a dozen people in line ahead of her to become my favorite in a month flat.
Maybe this called for a charm offensive. I could pull out my best, most sparkly cocktail party self, brush off a few anecdotes, convince him of my friendliness, and then maybe he wouldn’t feel the need to supervise me at every turn. Because it definitely felt like Ian the Investigator from the bigshot DC firm had me squarely in his sights.
I stifled a sigh. That type of suspicion was bad for the soul, especially if it led him to suspect someone as unobjectionable as me of...anything, honestly. But that was par for the course with people who spent too much time in DC. I hadn’t escaped without acquiring my own shell of cynicism.
The world needed less of that. And maybe mustering up some charm to get Ian Greene to back down was its own kind of cynicism, but it was the right move. If he’d truly rediscovered a love of visiting his grandma, well...I could admire that. Maybe I could keep that in mind if he was going to be a regular weekend nuisance.
Visitor. Time to give him the benefit of the doubt. Weekend visitor.
“Miss Lily seems happy to have you here two weeks in a row. It’s sweet of you to come out.”
“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.”
Again, his tone held a note of warning. I dabbed at my mouth with the thick linen napkin and tried to find one last bit of goodwill toward this obnoxious man.
Nope. I had nothing.
“You have a tone.” I cut right to the heart of my annoyance.
“Tone? What do you mean?”
I rolled my eyes. “You talk like you’re the smartest guy in the room, holding onto secrets no one else knows. It reads as smug. You did it just now, with your fake innocent, ‘What do you mean?’ And comments like how Miss Lily has excellent taste except when it comes to me somehow.” I set the napkin on the table and leaned toward him. “Say what you want to say, Ian. I’m tired of subtext.”
His expression didn’t give away much. He watched me for a long, measured moment before he nodded. “All right. I know what you’re up to with my grandmother. And I’m watching. Back off.”
My mouth dropped slightly, but I literally had no words.
“Don’t play dumb,” he said, his voice growing rough. “My investigation of you over the last week has shown that you may be a scammer, but you’re definitely not stupid.”
“Your ‘investigation’? What exactly do you think I’m up to with Miss Lily? Trying to wheedle all of her best gardening tips out of her? Guilty. I scammed her out of her secret fertilizer for tomatoes: coffee grounds. You got me.”
“Don’t be cute,” he said. “I promise you I’m taking this very seriously. You may have fooled your uncle, but Gran has me watching out for her.”
I wasn’t sure if I was more confused or indignant. Both emotions were fighting for the upper hand.
Confused, I decided. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. It’s nice that you’ve shown up after months to express some interest in your grandmother’s life, but what does that have to do with my uncle?” I wasn’t playing stupid, I felt stupid, like I was trying to play catch up, and I hated feeling stupid.
“You forget what I do for a living. I never take people at their word because I have too much evidence that I shouldn’t. So I’ve been digging into you over the last week, uncovering your tracks.”
His words sent a physical pang through my stomach, a wave of queasiness even though I’d eaten nothing but a mushroom cap with a sip of wine. If he was talking about the senator ...
“I’ll paint a picture.” He set his wineglass down hard enough to slosh it. “You volunteer in a nursing home in high school and con those lonely old people into funding a scholarship that they can’t afford, and it gives you a taste for what’s possible. I’m not sure what other scams you pulled, but the next one that shows up is you going to visit your uncle with whom you had little prior relationship, and suddenly he’s leaving everything to you in his will. And somehow in the middle of all that, you manage to have an affair with a married senator that results in a big financial settlement for you that I can only assume is to buy your silence. It certainly explains why Highmark Wealth Management would take you on as a client when nothing in your job or family history would point to that kind of income.” He patted his own mouth with his napkin and set it down with studied indifference. “How did I do?”
How did he do? How did he DO?
My fists clenched as I resisted the bodily urge to reach across the table and wipe the smirk off his face. I took three slow breaths in, then out, and finally uncurled my hands to reach for my phone.
I opened the rideshare app and requested a car. Creekville didn’t have much of a Lyft force, but it also meant the fe
w drivers were always available. Five minutes. I could handle five minutes if four of them were spent outside on the sidewalk, away from Ian’s smug face.
“Nothing to say for yourself?” he asked.
“Not really.” I slid my chair back. “Seems you know everything you need to.” I rose and slung the thin strap of my purse over my shoulder. I took a step for the door but paused beside him. “Then again, maybe it would interest you to know that I donated that scholarship to Alzheimer’s research, and that Fred left his house to his seven nieces and nephews and I bought them all out at market value.”
His forehead furrowed. I didn’t know if it was confusion or doubt, but I didn’t care. “Your investigation missed another important detail: I’m a woman of action over words.” I snatched up his mostly full glass of wine and tossed it in his face before walking out of the restaurant.
My timing was perfect, for once. I hit the sidewalk as the blue Nissan assigned to me pulled up to the curb. I confirmed with the woman behind the wheel that she was there for me, then opened the back door to slide in.
“Brooke,” Ian called as I reached to pull the door closed.
I turned to see him standing on the sidewalk, a wet spot staining the front of his light gray button-down shirt.
“What about the senator?” he asked.
I thought about flipping him off but refrained. Barely. “NDA,” I called and slammed the door shut. “Go ahead,” I told the driver.
I waited until the restaurant was firmly in the rearview mirror before I cried.
Chapter Nine
Ian
I walked back into the restaurant. The other diners stared as I made my way to the booth in the corner. I didn’t know if they’d seen Brooke toss the wine. More likely it was me running out after her that had drawn their notice. Either way, I ignored them all as I sat down to think.
NDA. A non-disclosure agreement. It could still be the senator’s effort to keep her quiet about an affair. But if she was telling the truth about her donation and the house, then that made me second guess the affair.
Kiss Me Now: A Romantic Comedy Page 7