by Peggy Jaeger
“No lie,” I said, shaking my head.
“Good thing I wasn’t police chief when you two were kids. I’ve had enough on my plate with your grandmother.”
“Let’s just be clear on this again, Chief.” I placed extra emphasis on his title. “I wasn’t the one getting into trouble and running wild. My only crime was being born four minutes after my recalcitrant sister.”
Lucas chuckled again. “Duly noted.”
We were silent for a few moments, as we both stared at my sister’s headstone.
“The anniversary’s coming up soon,” he said, breaking the quiet.
“Before you got here, I was thinking it’s hard to believe three years have passed already. So much has happened she’s missed out on. Colleen getting married. Danny dying and Cathy about to get hitched again. Both of them having babies a few months apart. Life-changing stuff she’ll never get to be a part of. Eileen would have made a terrific aunt.”
“As will you.”
“But Ei would have been the fearless, daredevil aunt, you know? The one the kids would always want to do scary stuff with, always be up for an adventure with, like riding rollercoasters, rolling down hills, following into the deep end of the pool. There was a reason she was the known as the fun twin, you know, while I was always referred to as the quiet and boring one.”
Lucas cocked his head again at me, a quizzical line forming between his brows. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone call you boring.”
“That’s because you didn’t go to school with us. Every boy we went to middle and high school with called me boring.” I immediately bit my tongue as an inferno of heat flew up from my neck at the declaration. The words pathetic and loser jumped in there to add to boring. “Eileen was the sparkly one, the one who had an entourage. Both boys and girls. She was the one people gravitated to. The one who could charm the socks off anyone if she put her mind to it.” I rolled my eyes again. “She obviously got the lion’s share of Nanny’s flirty DNA.”
“Well, you’re still quiet, that’s the truth. Except with family and close friends. Cathy always says she thinks your brain works twenty-four seven, but you only give a voice to about one-one-hundredth of the stuff you think about. Still waters and all. I don’t think she’s wrong.”
“She’s not. My brain never shuts down.” Hence, my chronic insomnia.
“But you’ve never been boring.”
“Like I said, you didn’t go to school with us. Trust me.”
“Kids can be mean,” he said, with a shoulder lift. “And high school boys, I’ll admit, are the worst. Believe me, I know since I was one, once upon a time.”
“Robert’s not.”
“No, and thank goodness he isn’t. I don’t know who he takes after, but I’m glad he’s such a good kid. And”—he nailed me with an intense glare—“don’t sell yourself short in the aunt department. You may not like to ride rollercoasters or do daredevil stuff that could give a mother nightmares, but you’ve got the caring and loving disposition down in spades, which means a lot more than who likes to do death-defying stunts. Plus”—he slanted a side glance at me, the corners of his delectable mouth tugging up—“your nieces and nephews are gonna know how to bake and cook like no one’s business. I foresee future chefs in your family line and young adults with food-prep skills that will do them well in life. That’s a big plus nowadays.”
The heat rushing up my neck grew hotter.
“Those scones you sent Robert home with last night, by the way, are a prime example of those baking skills and were a big hit. And not only with me. My dad had two of them this morning. When Robert told him he helped make them, the old man was impressed. Well, as much as he showed, anyway. He’s not known for giving praise, but any time he’s not belittling the kid is a plus in my book.”
“Why does he do that?” I asked, ignoring the compliment. “You’d think as his only grandkid, Hogan would be happy to have Robert visiting for the summer and be all over him like white on rice, like Nanny is with the three of us. And she sees us every day of her life.”
Lucas blew out a long breath and lay down, his head cradled in his bent arm, his eyes closed again. “The easiest answer is because he’s my son. Every time Dad looks at Robert he sees me at the same age, the age when my mother…left.”
“Which isn’t Robert’s fault, just like it wasn’t yours.”
“Not in Hogan Alexander’s mind.”
“Okay, that’s plain wrong. And sad. For you, but for Robert most of all.”
“It is what it is. He’s a bitter old man, and he was a bitter middle-aged man. I don’t remember him ever smiling or joking when I was a kid, either. Which is probably why my mother left in the first place.”
Lucas had been sixteen when he’d woken one day and found his mother gone. She hadn’t left a letter for him, and he’d never had a word from her since. Not that I knew of anyway, and I’m sure I would have heard to the contrary. Cathy was his best friend, and he would have told her if his mother had reached out at any time over the years. It had been him and his dad ever since. As soon as Lucas’s eighteenth birthday came, he’d enlisted as a way to get out from under his father’s depressing, combative, miserable thumb.
“Luckily”—he winked an eye open at me—“Robert’s got you to go to every day. He doesn’t have to sit around and be browbeaten. You take care of him, treat him like one of your own, and pull him out of his adolescent shell.” He smiled when he added, “And Fiona paying him so much attention at her party really made an impact on him. On the way home, he couldn’t stop talking about her. About how interesting her life has been and how nice and welcoming she is with everyone. He figures it’s the reason you and your sisters are so nice, to use his word. You get it from your grandmother.”
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “So he’s like every other male on the planet and has a crush on a ninety-four-year-old, eyelash-batting flirt with a brogue.”
His laugh warmed my insides.
“Honestly, I wish I could bottle her charm and sell it on the open market. We’d all be gazillionaires,” I said.
“I didn’t have the heart to tell him your grandmother’s not my biggest fan.”
“You know it’s only because you’ve arrested her more times than any of the other police chiefs have. She has to keep up a good front of moral indignation and give you her rebellious face because you represent the ‘establishment.’ ” I put air quotes around the word. “Truthfully, she adores you. Always has ever since she had you in her Communion class with Cathy and Danny.”
He sat up and wrapped his arms around his knees. “Maybe. She certainly didn’t give me such a stink eye before I was elected.”
“Again, it’s because you’ve hauled her in so many times. You haven’t let her get away with anything like chiefs Palmer and Brady did. You call her on her crap, don’t give her an inch of wiggle room, and she can’t charm you like she can every other walking Y chromosome. She’s not used to a man treating her that way, and it’s frustrating for her.”
“Yeah, that’s obvious. She hasn’t gotten into any trouble since she was admitted to the Arms, though. I haven’t had to bring her down to the station once. That’s a good thing.”
I nodded. “For all of us, Cathy most of all, since she’s Nanny’s lawyer and de facto one call. Cathy’s not biting her nails as much now or having her stomach knotted with worry that she’s gonna get a call in the middle of the day about some new act of civil disobedience Nanny’s been accused of. She can concentrate on the wedding, Mac, and the baby.”
Mentioning my sister’s upcoming nuptials put her fiancé’s bachelor party back into my head, which had me then remembering the almost kiss with the man seated next to me.
And the behavior leading up to it. If I asked him about why he’d been so upset in my kitchen, I risked bringing up the kiss-that-almost-happened incident and I was hesitant to do so. Even though, for whatever reason, he’d been avoiding me the past few days, things ap
peared to be back on an even keel right now and I was reluctant to disturb the balance. I’d missed Lucas during his absence.
“Speaking of your older sister, you’re her—whatchamacallit? Matron of honor, right?”
“Maid, not matron.” I pointed to my chest. “Not married, so maid.”
His gaze flicked to where I’d pointed, dead center between my breasts. His perusal, however innocent it was, caused my nipples to tighten and pull inside my bra. I didn’t need to look down to know they were balled into two points, their shape visible where they pressed against my blouse. When the tops of Lucas’s ears pinked and he pressed his lips together, the notion his thoughts were anything but chaste drove through me.
“Right. Maid.” He brought his attention back to my face.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you ask?”
Confusion drifted across his features as he swallowed and blinked a few times. “Um, because Mac asked Slade to be his best man.”
“I know. They’ve gotten close these past few months, which is really nice.”
“Yeah, but Slade told him no because he wants to stick by Colleen’s side in case she goes into labor. I’m Mac’s backup choice.”
“So you’re his best man now?”
“Yeah.”
“Does it feel weird? I mean, since you were Danny’s best man, too?”
“I’m thinking it should, but it doesn’t. It’s not like they were divorced and I had to choose whose side I was gonna take. Danny died. Cathy is lucky she’s getting another chance at happiness with a guy who loves her as much as Danny did.”
I kept silent on that statement. A few months ago, Cathy had revealed to Colleen and me that when he was home from his last tour, her soldier husband had told her he’d fallen out of love with her. He’d had multiple affairs while away on duty and wouldn’t stand in her way if she wanted to divorce him. When she’d finally made the decision to file, army representatives had shown up at her door informing her Danny had been killed by an insurgent while he’d been on patrol. All thoughts of divorce had been forgotten. When Cathy tearfully revealed the story to us, I’d asked if Lucas had known about his best friend’s behavior. Cathy hadn’t wanted to ask him, knowing it would put a wedge in their friendship if he had, and didn’t want to besmirch her husband’s name to his best friend if he hadn’t.
Lucas’s words about Mac loving my sister as much as her first husband had proved to me he hadn’t been privy to Danny’s army behavior. I wasn’t about to tell him the truth.
“Your sisters are making me rent a tux.” The eye roll he tossed me coupled with the way his lips pulled down on one side told me what he thought about that. “Cathy won’t let me wear a suit.”
The picture forming in my mind of this delicious man in formal wear had my toes tingling and those damn nipples pulling tighter.
“She wants the wedding to be ‘elegant.’ ” He cupped the back of his neck. “That’s Colleen’s influence for sure. If it was up to Cathy, I don’t think it would be so formal.”
“Don’t bet on it. She’s had more time to plan this wedding than the first time around. She’s not eighteen this time and wants this ceremony to be different from the last one where you and Danny were in your dress uniforms and she was stuck wearing our mother’s dress. There was no time to really plan a wedding before you both went off to boot camp. Thankfully she’s got Colleen to run the show, so everything should be perfect.”
“Yeah, I get that, but I wish I could wear something where I won’t feel like I’m bound and tied. Whoever invented the bow tie should be horsewhipped.”
“Don’t say that to Cathy. You’ll upset her.”
“I won’t, but I need a favor.”
“I’m not talking her out of you wearing a tuxedo.”
“No, I know. I’d never ask you to. Slade’s got one he says I can borrow, but we’re not built the same way.”
That was the God’s truth. Both were tall, but Slade was lithe, like the runner he was. Lucas was built like the linebacker he’d been in high school: broad shoulders, thick neck, and biceps like he lifted two-hundred-pound weights before breakfast. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him anywhere the eye could see.
I wished I knew what my eyes couldn’t see, namely, what was housed under his shirt and jeans.
“When I tried on the jacket, I could barely move my arms,” he said, pulling me out of the fantasy of Lucas in his birthday suit. “I need to run up to Concord to rent one because no place in town has one I can fit into.”
“You’re not leaving yourself a whole lot of time. The wedding’s a week from Saturday.”
“I know, which is why I’m asking for the favor. Cathy’s tied up in court for the next few days, and Slade isn’t letting Colleen travel anywhere outside of town in case, God forbid, she goes into labor. Mac’s in New York doing promo for his book release. I wondered if you had some free time to go with me and give me some advice in picking the damn thing out. You know what your sister is looking for, plus you’ve got a great eye when it comes to visual things. I don’t want to rent something Cathy’ll hate.”
The fact he was asking me to go somewhere with him should have filled me with joy. But in all honesty, I didn’t have a moment I could think of to spare. I had a full house as usual, meetings scheduled with my architect, plus a wedding of Colleen’s this Friday evening, the last one she was scheduled to be in charge of until after the baby was born. In addition to the other ninety things that came up hourly in my life, I really didn’t have any free time at all.
One look at his face, though, and I knew I could never tell him that.
“When were you thinking of going?”
“I can swing it so I have tomorrow afternoon off. Pete said he’d cover for me for a few hours. I know you’ve got a wedding this weekend, so I won’t ask if you can do Friday or Saturday, and the rental shops are all closed on Sunday, so tomorrow afternoon is it. Are you free? Or I guess the better question is, can you be?”
I did a quick calculation in my head. If I started decorating the wedding cake tonight and got some of the food prepared ahead of time for the reception, I might be able to pull it off.
Hell, I wasn’t sleeping more than two hours at a clip these days, anyway.
I told him I could swing a few hours.
His face beamed like a lighted Christmas tree when he thanked me.
“I’m not really doing it for you, you know,” I lied. “I want this wedding to be as perfect and as stress-free as possible for Cathy, and if it means helping you pick out the right tux, so be it.”
“It will be. Perfect, I mean. Especially since you’re doing the food. If I have to wear a monkey suit, at least I know I’ll get some great chow out of it.”
Again, the compliment made my insides go all squishy. I glanced down at my watch so he wouldn’t notice my face heat.
“I’ve gotta get back.” I stood. Lucas did too and helped me fold the blanket I’d brought to sit on. “I have an appointment at the inn in a half hour, and I want to make sure everything’s going okay before it. I don’t anticipate any problems, but you never know.”
I placed a hand on top of the marble and patted it. “Bye, Ei. Miss you. Love you.”
Lucas mimicked my gesture, offered his own goodbye, and put his hat on.
As we walked back toward the parking lot together I said, “I wish I could hear her say, ‘Love you more,’ one more time.”
“Cancer sucks.”
“You won’t get an argument from me.”
Our cars were the only ones in the lot. Lucas had parked his squad in the spot right next to mine.
“You had this whole big lot of empty spaces and you’re squeezed in next to me?” I shook my head.
He shrugged. “Efficiency. Who are you meeting with?” he asked as I stowed the blanket in the back of my car.
“Donovan Boyd. He’s coming over again to show me the plans for the bungalows he’s drawn up si
nce we met last week.”
“You’re not meeting at his office?”
“It’s easier for him to come to me.” I let out a breath. “Visiting Eileen took up all the free time I could squeeze in today.”
From the way his eyes narrowed, I could tell he was thinking hard about something.
“I know that look. It usually precedes a grilling worthy of CIA operatives.”
A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. “And here I assumed I had a great poker face.”
“You do. I’m just really good at reading…people. Comes from being the quiet, observant, and boring twin.”
Lucas shook his head. “We’re not having that discussion again.”
“So what’s with the look?
With his arms crossed over his chest, Lucas leaned back against the squad.
His face was blanked, but since I’d made a second career of memorizing every facet of his personality, I knew something was cooking in his head. It was my turn to mimic him as I settled back against my car and crossed my own arms over my chest. “What?”
He took his time answering, but after a few beats in which his gaze dragged across my face as if he was searching for something, he said, “You work harder than anyone I know.”
“Says the man who hasn’t had a vacation in six years.”
“That’s different. I serve at the pleasure of the public, and crime never takes a holiday. You own your own business. You can take time off if you want to, and no one will be mad at you or call for your resignation or claim you aren’t living up to the duties of the job.”
“Spoken like a man who’s never run his own business.” I shook my head. And one who sounded like he was questioning his career choice.
“You never get”—he shrugged—“I don’t know…Tired of it all? Constantly being at the beck and call of the guests? Cooking for people who don’t appreciate it like they should?”
I squinted across at him. “My guests appreciate everything I do for them.”
“Yeah, but it’s not like they’re family or friends. They’re paying you for the privilege. You’re just providing a service to them.”
