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Rules of Contact

Page 23

by Jaci Burton


  Amelia laughed. "Quite the handful, this family."

  "Oh, Amelia, you have no idea." Lydia shot a wry smile over at Amelia. "But every one of these kids has been worth it. We've had such an amazing, happy life."

  To hear his mother say that meant everything to Flynn. He loved his parents, and he knew the sacrifices they had made--especially his mom--to raise five children. Sure, his dad had made a good living as a quarterback, and his mother had done exceptionally well as an attorney. But when they decided to buy the ranch, his mother had given up her career, choosing to dedicate her time to raising all of them.

  "Mom, I don't know that I ever told you how much I appreciate you sacrificing your career to raise us," Flynn said.

  His mother cocked her head to the side. "It was never a sacrifice, Flynn. It was a choice. I didn't give up a thing."

  "Well, thank you. Because we all benefitted from it."

  She got up and came around the table, put her arms around Flynn and kissed his cheek. "Thank you. That means a lot."

  "Oh sure, say the nice thing," Tucker said. "Now we're all going to have to hug her."

  "Yeah, and the next thing you know there'll be a group hug," Barrett said.

  Mia grimaced. "Not the Cassidy family group hug. I hate those."

  His mother laughed. "All of you finish your breakfasts. We can group hug later."

  "Thank God for that," Mia said. "Because I'm shorter than all of you and I always get stuck in the middle of those group hugs. It's like being squashed by bears."

  The more time she spent with the Cassidys, the more Amelia wished she had grown up with siblings. Of course, her mother had barely known what to do with her, let alone more than one child. Career had been everything to her mother. She'd had little interest in raising a daughter. If Amelia hadn't had her father around, she wouldn't have had much parenting at all. Or any love.

  Her father's death had left a giant hole on the parenting front. Being here was filling a well Amelia hadn't realized had felt so empty for the past ten years since her father had died. And she intended to let that well fill with love and laughter for as long as she was here.

  She was also filling the well of her stomach, and she was afraid her clothes weren't going to fit by the time she left. It was a good thing they were only here for a couple of days. If she ate like this all the time, she'd have to get up in the mornings and start running with Flynn, and she wasn't a runner.

  Once breakfast was finished, they all took their plates into the kitchen and the guys did cleanup. She couldn't quite get used to seeing that, but she had to admit she enjoyed watching Flynn, his brothers, his dad and his uncles do dishes and clean the kitchen. She made a mental note to train her sons--if she had any--early on how to clean a kitchen and do dishes. It was such an admirable trait.

  "It is fun to watch them, isn't it?" Aubry asked as she came up beside Amelia.

  "It's something you don't see every day. Something I don't see every day, anyway."

  "Oh, come on," Mia said as she came up to lean against the counter on Amelia's other side. "You're a head chef. Surely you employ male staff who do dishes."

  "That's different. In my personal world, this is unique. I've dated men--hell, I married one--who never once stepped foot in a kitchen, either to cook or to do the cleanup."

  Mia slanted a look of surprise at her. "Really?"

  "Yes. I guess some men are still married to traditional gender roles."

  "I guess so."

  "Those men aren't in this kitchen, obviously," Harmony said. "And I for one am so grateful for that. Barrett is more than willing to wash dishes, do laundry and cook a meal."

  Aubry nodded. "My schedule is always so whacked out that it's not like I'm home at five o'clock every night. And I don't have to worry about him starving, because Tucker knows how to fix a meal for himself. And often I'll come home after working a hellishly long shift at the hospital and he'll have fixed something and left it in the fridge for me to warm up."

  "Aww, that's so sweet," Amelia said.

  "It really is."

  "It makes me appreciate Flynn so much more because he does spend a lot of time not only in his kitchen, but also never has a problem mixing it up in mine, including the cleanup part."

  Aubry smiled. "That's great."

  "If you all are going to continue to wax poetic about my brothers, I'm going to lose my breakfast," Mia said. "Knock it off."

  Amelia laughed. "Sorry."

  "They are kind of atypical," Harmony said.

  "More like ass-holical," Mia said. "But that's my perspective because I grew up with them. I've seen them crack jokes about buttholes and B.O. and seen them shove things up their noses that you do not want to know about."

  Amelia looked over at Aubry and Harmony. "That does make Flynn seem a lot less attractive to me."

  Harmony grimaced. "I'm going to have to break up with Barrett and go home."

  Aubry nodded. "Agreed. I'm calling off the wedding right now."

  Tucker's gaze shot up from where he was standing at the sink. "Wait. What did you just say?"

  Aubry laughed. "He has very good hearing." She looked over at Tucker. "Just joking around, babe."

  "You'd better be. We are getting married and you don't get to change your mind." Tucker scanned their group. "And quit talking to Mia."

  "He knows I know all his secrets." Mia nodded and shot Tucker a knowing smile. "They all know that. I should start asking for money."

  "You really should," Amelia said. "You could amass a small fortune."

  "It could be an amazing side business. Or source my future endeavors. I could call it Mia's Extortion Fund."

  Aubry grinned. "I love this idea--and this wickedly smart entrepreneurial side of you, Mia."

  "Thank you, Aubry."

  Amelia nodded. "If you're really smart you could double down by not only taking their money, but then selling their secrets to their girlfriends, fiancees, wives. Double the money."

  Mia turned to her. "That's diabolical. And brilliant. I like this side of you, Amelia."

  Amelia shrugged, but had to fight back a laugh. "Thank you. And if you need a partner, just let me know."

  "I will."

  All joking aside, Amelia was very impressed with how thorough--and how quickly--the guys cleaned up the kitchen. Within twenty minutes they were out of the way so the women could all get in there and start cooking dinner.

  Flynn stuck around to help, so they ended up having plenty of hands. Amelia, along with Anya, made several pies while the rest of the group concentrated on fixing side dishes. Before long it was steamy hot in the kitchen and Lydia turned on the air conditioner. Katrina had made sangria, so they were all sipping the cool drink and talking while they did their respective cooking tasks.

  Amelia had slid the pies into the oven, so she took her glass of sangria and stepped outside on the front porch for a minute before diving into the next task.

  Lydia came out soon after and sat beside Amelia on the porch swing.

  "You work so quickly," Lydia said. "It takes me hours just to make one pie, and you've done six."

  "I'm used to working fast because of the restaurant. And it's all about having the ingredients laid out and the tasks in order in my head. Plus, it's my job, so that makes it easier for me."

  "I imagine that's true. Stuff that seems difficult for someone else is probably cake for you."

  "Well, I couldn't walk into a courtroom and argue a case because that's not my area of expertise. Whereas you probably watch all those courtroom dramas on television and roll your eyes at the lack of accuracy."

  Lydia laughed. "You have no idea. It's so frustrating."

  "I'm sure it is."

  "How do you feel about the cooking shows on TV? Do they drive you crazy?"

  "Some of them do if they're all about dramatic effect with no substance. But a few are actually pretty good. If they can show the viewer the passion behind the cooking, and give them real world information
on how to create something, then I'm all for it. I enjoy quite a few shows."

  "So do I. Which ones do you like?"

  They talked about which were their favorites. It turned out they shared a number in common, from cooking shows to a couple of the reality competition shows.

  "I know you told us all yesterday how you started your career in cooking. But I'm interested in your earlier life. Did you learn to cook from either of your parents, Amelia?" Lydia asked.

  "Oh, no. In high school, actually. I took a basic cooking skills class and fell in love. The instructor encouraged me to take an advanced class, which I did, and from there I was hooked. In college I got my bachelor's degree in management, found a job at a restaurant and worked there while I went to school. After graduating, I attended culinary school."

  "It's great that you knew what you wanted and went after it."

  She nodded. "Yes, much to my mother's disappointment."

  Lydia frowned. "She was disappointed? Why?"

  "She thought it was a frivolous career with no earning potential. She was a financial analyst, so money was everything to her."

  "Oh. Well, that's disappointing. For you."

  Amelia shrugged. "My mother was always about career. A lot less about home and family. I was kind of an afterthought to her."

  Lydia reached out and laid her hand on Amelia's arm. "I'm sorry."

  Amelia looked over at Lydia, horrified that she'd spilled so much personal information. "I'm . . . sorry I brought it up. I never do. I don't know why I said anything. I honestly wasn't looking for sympathy."

  "No, you said it because you wanted to talk to someone about it. Am I right?"

  "Maybe. I think it's also because I'm so fascinated by your family dynamic. You have such a warm and loving family. The siblings all get along, your husband's brothers live nearby. It's such a tight-knit group."

  "And you didn't have that."

  "Not really. My father loved and adored me. He gave me everything I could ever want in a parent, so I never felt I was missing anything. He passed away ten years ago."

  "I'm sorry, Amelia."

  "Thank you. My mother remarried about a year after my father died, and she relocated to Arizona where her new husband's family lives."

  "Do you see her often?"

  Amelia shook her head. "Hardly at all. We weren't close anyway, and the geographical distance only separated us further."

  "That has to hurt."

  "It did at first. I felt like she'd abandoned me after my dad died. But in actuality, I find I don't really miss her all that much. I suppose it's because she gave me so little affection as a child. I do miss my dad though. A lot."

  "I'm sure you do. You don't have any brothers or sisters?"

  "No. Just me."

  Lydia gave her a sweet smile and squeezed her hand. "Well, you know, family comes in many forms, not all of it blood."

  She returned the smile, feeling the genuine warmth and affection that she'd felt from the moment she'd met Lydia. "Now, that I do know. I stayed close with my best friend from college, and she lives in San Francisco. So we've grown even closer since I moved there. She and her husband own a house just down the street from me. It's been wonderful having a best friend nearby."

  "That's good. It's important to have a friend you can share all of your secrets with."

  Amelia laughed. "Laura definitely knows all of my secrets. And all of my sins. She was there for me, on the phone and in person with many visits when I went through my divorce."

  "Oh. I'm sorry about that, too."

  "Trust me, I'm much happier now than when I was married. I made a huge mistake and married the wrong guy."

  "That happens. But it sounds to me like you're heading in the right direction now. You have close friends and a wonderful career as a chef."

  "I am. I'm very happy. I have to say how much I admire you, Lydia, for giving up your career to put your family first."

  Lydia smiled at her. "I never felt as if I was giving anything up. Easton and I saw this property and we fell in love with it. We wanted to give the kids a rural lifestyle, away from the city. He was several years away from retiring from football, and we could have waited for that, but I felt it was the right time to buy the ranch before the kids got too old. And I didn't want to miss their childhoods while I was working. I knew staying at home with them was the right decision for me. I couldn't imagine other people raising our children while both of us stayed in Wisconsin and continued with our careers.

  "It was an easy decision to make. Easton was concerned, of course, because he knew I loved my job, but honestly? My kids always came first. And I loved having that time with them before they were all grown and gone. We were lucky my staying at home was an option financially."

  Amelia blinked back the sting of tears. Her mother would have never made that choice. Asking her to give up her career--even give up a day of it--would have been like asking her to give up a vital organ. "I don't think you really have an idea how much it meant to your children to have you there with them."

  Lydia looked out over the property, a warm smile on her face. "Oh, I know. It benefitted all of us, trust me."

  And that was what it was like to feel the love of a mother. Even though Lydia wasn't her mother, she could feel the thousand-watt strength of that love pouring out of her.

  It made her very happy to know Lydia. To know Flynn, and know that he came from someone as wonderful as this woman.

  After sitting outside a few more minutes, they went back in and started on another cooking task.

  Lydia was very easy to talk to. Maybe that's why Amelia had blurted out some secrets from her past. She hoped Lydia didn't feel too burdened by them, or think less of her for telling them.

  But surprisingly, Amelia felt lightened by sharing a little bit of her past with Flynn's mother. She wasn't sure why, but she felt closer to Lydia for having shared parts of her past. And maybe that was a good thing.

  TWENTY-SIX

  If Flynn ate one more thing today he was going to explode. Or have to go on a run again tonight. He was so full. There'd been so much food on the table he hadn't been sure he was going to be able to fit it all on his plate.

  Oh, who was he kidding? Of course he'd gotten it all on his plate. Just not in the first round.

  He'd made the sausage, apple and cranberry dressing. It had turned out damn good. Even Amelia had approved, and so had his mother, who had told him he had to come home every Thanksgiving from now on to fix it. Amelia had made him promise he'd fix it for her again.

  Nothing like high praise from your mom and your girlfriend to make a guy feel good.

  But after they all cleaned up and put away the leftovers, he had to figure out how to find room for all those pies Amelia had made. Because she'd made six of them. Two pumpkin, one cherry, two pecan and an apple. He wanted a slice of each.

  Not gonna happen. He had a game Sunday, which meant in just three short days he was going to have to hustle his body off the mark, not sludge across the line like an overstuffed turkey.

  So maybe one piece of pie.

  Okay, two, at most.

  "Did I tell you that Anya made cherry cheesecake, too?" Amelia said as she came up beside him while he was staring at all the pies on the counter.

  He groaned. "You are all trying to kill me. Did I mention I need to be fast on Sunday?"

  "Why? You never were before."

  Flynn frowned as his brother walked past. "Fuck you, Tucker."

  Tucker just laughed as he left the room.

  "I'm going to bury him on family game day tomorrow."

  "I'll be sure to have my phone out for that. Aubry might need it for evidence."

  "Please don't kill my fiance before we get married," Aubry said as she moved by. She stopped and swiveled to face them. "That sounded really bad. Please do not kill my fiance ever. There, that sounded much better."

  Aubry walked away.

  Flynn could tell Amelia had been accepted by his f
amily, which meant a lot to him. And after they sampled her wide selection of pies, they told her they were in love with her. They were sitting around the enormous dining room table drinking coffee, everyone groaning about how full they were.

  "You have to stay here now," Easton said to her, "so you can make pie for me every day."

  She smiled. "I'm so glad you liked it."

  "We'd like you even if you couldn't cook, by the way," Easton said. "Just wanted to clarify that."

  She laughed. "I'm glad to hear it."

  "If you ate three slices of pie every day, you'd be too fat to work the ranch," Lydia said. "So I'm afraid Amelia will have to go home."

  Katrina rubbed her stomach. "I'm really glad I don't have a photo shoot until after the holidays. I'm going to have to keep a strict gym regimen or I'm going to be in trouble."

  "Is it hard work staying in shape?" Amelia asked Katrina.

  "Not too bad for me yet. I'm fortunate to have a fast metabolism, so most of the workouts I do with my trainer are for muscle-toning purposes. Eventually my metabolism will slow down and diet will become a factor. Especially with the way my sister cooks."

  "Oh, sure," Anya said. "Blame me. In advance."

  "Just did."

  "You're perfect. And when you put on weight, you'll still be perfect," Grant said.

  Katrina lifted her gaze to Grant and smiled. "Thank you. And I might be perfect in your eyes, but I'll be retired as a model. The cameras are rather unforgiving."

  "Eh, screw them," Grant said. "You can do infomercials."

  She laughed. "Right. Like that's high on my list."

  Flynn's phone rang. He picked it up, surprised to see Spencer Ryan on the other end. Since Spencer handled all his PR, it had to be important or he would never call him on a holiday. He left the table and punched the button.

  "Hey, Spence. Happy Thanksgiving."

  "Same to you, Flynn. I'm really sorry to call you on a holiday, but I got an offer that I think you might find interesting. If this is a bad time, I can wait."

  "No, go ahead."

  He listened, then told Spencer he'd get back to him first thing in the morning. He went back to the table and poured himself another cup of coffee from the carafe.

  "Is everything all right?" Amelia asked.

  "It was my PR person. Spencer said one of the cooking networks called. They want Ninety-Two to participate in some kind of battle of the sports restaurants. It would be televised, with a signature dish from each restaurant cooked and featured on a TV special they want to tape."

 

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