by Liza Kendall
Apparently, there was going to be quite a spread, because they already had a table containing a massive catering carafe of coffee and two boxes of pastries in addition to a series of wrapped platters and drink coolers being arranged on a second folding table.
“Hey.” Lila came over to elbow Rhett and shoved a cup of coffee and a plate holding a pastry at his stomach. “Declan hasn’t eaten anything yet.”
Rhett stared down at the food. “Can you please stop trying to force this? Declan and I are miles apart and there is no pastry on the planet that is going to fix that right now.”
“It’s a raspberry Danish from Piece A Cake,” Lila said. “It might.”
Rhett sighed and took the food from his sister, who used her free hand to grab a second cup of coffee. Rhett growled more than sighed this time and gingerly added the second cup to his haul. Cursing under his breath as the coffee sloshed over his fingers, he made his way across the grass to his brother.
“From Lila,” he said, holding out the food to Declan, who’d evidently approved the drain and was now at the compound miter saw.
Declan grunted by way of thanks. He accepted the coffee and took a sip.
The two men drank coffee in a silence that might have been halfway to okay, were it not for Rhett’s memories. “Do you remember the summer Grady finally bought a dirt bike with his savings?”
Deck cracked a smile. “He called us up and told us to bring Pop’s tools. The three of us were going to clean it up a bit, as I recall.”
“Yeah. I’ll never forget the look on his face when we got here. He was so excited. I think it was just about here . . .” Rhett pointed to a grassy knoll behind them. “That’s where the guy unloaded this heap of scrap metal. He’d convinced Grady it was a legit fixer-upper.”
“I remember standing by the stables when that guy peeled away in his truck as fast as he could, before we could stop him and get Grady’s money back.”
“That thing was a piece of crap,” Rhett said.
“Yeah. I thought Grady was gonna cry,” Deck said. The two men laughed softly.
Rhett realized they’d both finished their coffees already. He looked to where the firefighters were trooping away from Lila’s refreshment stand, putting on work gloves, getting down to business.
Lila was standing next to the coffee carafe, sipping at a cup, watching her brothers. She gestured like a referee for them to continue play.
“Thanks for the coffee,” Deck muttered. He walked over to a pile of two-by-fours, grabbed a couple, and hauled them to the sawhorses that stood nearby the saw.
Rhett followed him and helped him clamp the wood down in preparation for making the cuts they needed. They put on safety glasses and worked in silence for a few minutes. Then he said, “Used to be, you and I couldn’t stop talking.”
“I remember.” Declan glanced at him, then turned his attention back to the saw.
“I just don’t get it,” Rhett blurted, after the roar of the thing had subsided. “You’ll break your back working on a piece of property that’s not even yours, Deck, but you won’t so much as have a conversation about rebuilding the Old Barn.”
Declan didn’t take the bait.
Rhett spat a bit of sawdust out of his mouth and wiped the sweat from his face. “That barn is part of our legacy. I think—”
“How ’bout you shut up or go work in the far corner, little brother,” Deck said evenly, unclamping the piece of wood he’d just cut.
Rhett took it from his hands. “How ’bout we just have this out right now,” he said just as quietly. “Would it make you feel better to punch the daylights out of me?” He threw down the two-by-four on a pile of others that were trimmed. “What do you want from me, Declan? I’m trying, here.”
Declan turned toward him and whipped off his safety glasses. “Okay, Rhett. Sure. Let’s talk. You tell me exactly what it is you’re ‘trying.’ Out here. Because it looks to me like you’re out here trying to one-up me by buying another property. It looks to me like you’re out here trying to get in Julianna Holt’s pants.”
“What did you say?”
“It looks to me like you’re trying to prove yourself with enough time left over to get back to Dallas for dinner. It looks to me like you’re trying to send a message to me and you don’t realize the message got through, and you can stop now.”
Rhett stared at him, absorbing the bitterness in his tone.
He hates me. My brother hates me.
“If that’s how you feel, why did you come here today?” Rhett asked, not working even a little bit to keep the hurt and trauma out of his voice.
“You just don’t get it,” Deck snapped. “You used to get it, and I miss that guy. It takes heart to make a place like Silverlake or Holt Stables last. It takes dedication.” Declan slammed his palm against his chest. “You’ve got to be here, be part of the land. You’ve got to live it and work it and breathe alongside it.”
“If you think I haven’t got the heart or the dedication, if you think I’m going back to Dallas, I’ll ask you again. Why are you helping me right now?”
Declan put on his safety glasses again, his mouth twisting. “Oh, there’s definitely heart, dedication, and a love for the land here, Rhett. In Julianna Holt.”
Rhett felt kicked in the stomach.
Deck’s eyes narrowed behind the plastic barrier. “I’m here for Jules. She’s Silverlake through and through. Maybe you went and bought Holt Stables, but this place will always be hers.” And with that pronouncement, he turned his back on his brother and fired up the saw again.
Rhett watched his brother work for a few moments, trying to process everything he was—and wasn’t—saying. “Deck. Declan!”
His older brother looked up. And when Rhett couldn’t find the words immediately, Deck sighed, shook his head, and went back to work, the saw roaring into the silence of everything they couldn’t say.
Rhett strode over and clapped him on the shoulder. “No, I’m serious!”
Deck switched off the saw. “Get off me. I’m trying to do a job here.”
Then the words started pouring out of Rhett. “I don’t want to do this with you anymore. I don’t want you resenting me; I don’t want to resent you. I want to rebuild the Old Barn with you.”
Declan blinked.
Rhett saw the anger in him flare, saw his brother hold it back. It was almost comical how much of a struggle the two of them had just trying to stay adult enough not to work it out with their fists.
“Rhett, it’s just too late,” he said calmly. “It burnt to the ground. Everything’s gone. And nobody in the family cares enough to justify rebuilding. Not really. Yeah, it feels bad that it’s gone, but that’s not the same thing as having a good reason to bring it back. Lila’s over it and she’s already getting other business for herself. Ace was never coming back anyway. Jake’s heart will always be with the fire squad. And it’s nice that you say you wish our family was whole again, but you’re just going to turn around and go back to Dallas. We’ll do the phone calls we always do. And eventually I’ll kick the bucket, the rest of you will work out a deal to sell, and then nobody will have to do the phone calls, either.”
No, no, no—that’s not okay. Not what I want.
Rhett felt almost desperate. “I’ll give you the money. For the Old Barn.”
“It’s not about the money!” Declan roared, his voice raw and even louder than the saw had been.
Lila shot them a worried glance.
Rhett advanced on him and shoved his brother with both hands. “Everything between us is about the money!”
Declan was clearly not expecting what he got. He stumbled backward, tripped over the sawhorse, and fell to the ground, staring up at Rhett.
Rhett stared down at him. “I’m sor—”
Lila’s voice interrupted them. “Okay, hi, yeah, um,
no, this was not a good idea. My fault! My bad! Everybody up . . .” Her loud stream of consciousness preceded her actual body by several seconds. “You okay, Deck?”
Declan climbed to his feet, ignoring the hand Rhett offered. “I’m fine.”
Lila pushed her dark hair out of her face, then made a sound suspiciously like a sniffle. Both men froze.
Rhett stared at her in horror as her eyes got more and more watery. He looked at Declan, who looked equally petrified.
“We’re just dealing with some stuff,” Declan muttered.
Lila cleared her throat. “Let’s not lie, okay? This”—her index finger moved between them—“isn’t working at all. So, okay. Rhett was right. I shouldn’t have pushed it. We should focus on what we’ve got, not on what we don’t have. And at least we’ve got Jake back. That’s a lot.”
Deck looked at Rhett, his forehead wrinkled.
“Let’s just . . .” Lila looked behind her, where her friends were all taking seats by the refreshment stand. “Could we not air our dirty laundry? I shouldn’t have pushed you two together, and I’m sorry. But this is supposed to be a fun time for everyone.” She looked back at Deck. “Everyone. Let’s try, okay? Please?”
Declan nodded and finally held out his hand to Rhett. Rhett clasped it and shook, but quickly let go. “I’ll go back and check on the drainage again,” he muttered.
With more than a little relief, Rhett left Lila and Deck and headed toward Grady.
“Hey, Rhett,” Lila called out, still struggling to end the tension. “I know what I did wrong. I should have sent the blueberry Danish!”
Rhett produced a chuckle and raised his arm in a wave of acknowledgment, but without looking back.
* * *
The ringside lawn chairs were lined up like loungers at some swanky Miami resort, not the hardscrabble Holt Stables in Silverlake, Texas. All they needed was an ocean view and a cabana boy. Scratch that: Jules would take their current view over an ocean any day. And she didn’t mind getting her own iced tea, as long as that view was available, shirtless, rock-hard, and sweaty: half the Silverlake Fire and Rescue squad and a couple of off-duty cops, along with Rhett and Declan Braddock.
Yum. Just . . . yum.
Mick was in basketball shorts and nothing much else, his muscular legs taut and toned.
Tommy, in Levi’s, had shoulders that were almost wider than he was tall. And the biceps of a Greek god.
Grady, in cargo shorts, didn’t count to her, but the other girls followed his every move with rapt appreciation.
Rafi . . . oh my! His cycling shorts were a little revealing for her taste, but she couldn’t complain.
Declan’s signature red bandanna marked a very fine backside.
Bode Wells and one of his friends both wore standard-issue police department athletic shorts and tees, but the tees seemed to be coming off already . . . Yep, there’d be plenty of distraction were it not for Rhett.
Rhett, in a pair of ratty khaki shorts that were missing a button. Rhett . . . massive shoulders, chest tapering into a hard, flat, cut abdomen. Sweat running in rivulets down his bronzed back.
“This feels so wrong,” Jules said, not exactly regretting the fact that she was sprawled in her lawn chair, sipping a cold drink, and watching extremely attractive men go about the business of physical labor—on her behalf. She did feel a little guilty, though.
On one side of her sat Lila. On the other side was Mia, though she had only thirty minutes before her next in-home patient appointment. Charlie and Maggie filled out the row of five lawn chairs. Lila had erected a snack table a few yards away. It was piled high with sandwiches, bags of chips, apples, an assortment of baked goods provided by Jules’s mom and Aunt Sue, and three huge coolers filled with iced tea, Gatorade, and water.
They’d only just set it up twenty minutes ago and the spread was gaining longing looks from the men who were busy shoveling and moving soil around, double-checking the drainage, and making sure the ground was level in prep for laying the surface. Was there anything better to gaze upon than a lot of hot, dirty, sweaty men with tools?
And Rhett was one of them. When he looked her way, part of her hoped he was just trying to decide between ham and Swiss or pastrami. The other part of her hoped he wanted her on the menu. Stop it, Jules.
“I should go back to work,” Jules muttered. “We all should. This is like an old Diet Coke commercial! It’s not fair to sit around while they bust their butts.”
Nobody moved. Lila gave her a look that said she was crazy, and took a massive bite of sandwich.
“I’m here in case somebody needs medical attention,” Mia said with a grin. “So, really, I am working.”
“I’m just here to stare at Jake,” Charlie said.
“I’m equal opportunity; I’m here to stare at all of them. Mick is looking verrry nice today, without clothes,” Maggie said, unapologetically. “And I mean this is the absolute first time I’ve ever seen Rafi with his shirt off. And in full, um, silhouette. I’m not going anywhere.”
“You have a thing for Rafi?” Lila asked a little sharply.
“Whoa. I’m just appreciating the view,” Maggie said, raising her palms in defense. “Not if you have a thing for Rafi.”
“I don’t have a thing for Rafi,” Lila said.
“Well, somebody should,” Maggie said, her head cocked sideways to fully appreciate everything the firefighter had to offer.
“Maybe you should,” Charlie said, elbowing Mia.
“Maybe I should deal with my ex first,” Mia said mournfully.
Charlie and Lila exchanged bummed-out glances. Jules reached over and squeezed her friend’s hand.
“Holy All Things Hot and Irish!” Amelie blurted, walking up. “Declan’s looking divine.”
Lila looked around, saw that Deck was trucking a load of sand across the grass toward the ring area, and then winced. “You’re drooling over my brother.” She put up a palm to shield Declan Braddock’s finely muscled, sweaty torso from her sight. “I can’t even.”
“I could,” Maggie said.
“I wish,” Mia said.
“I always wondered about you two,” Lila said. “Living practically next door and all . . .”
“Just friends,” Mia said, waving the idea away. “No chemistry. But I can definitely still appreciate the Braddock glory.” She punched Lila lightly in the shoulder. “You okay there?”
“Actually, yeah,” Lila said. “It’s great he’s here. I didn’t expect . . . it’s just that we’ve been arguing about rebuilding the Old Barn. I just assumed he wouldn’t want to . . . I don’t know, I guess I thought it would make him feel sad to come here and do this.”
“I don’t think your brother is one to spare his own feelings when someone else needs help,” Jules pointed out.
“You sound like you know almost as much about the Braddock boys as Lila here,” Maggie said, a little too suggestively.
Jules glared at her pal, but it was too late. Lila’s head jerked up. “Oh yeah?”
Maggie whistled, the picture of innocence.
“So what happened back there, between Rhett and Declan? Why did Rhett push him?” Jules asked Lila.
“There’s always tension between those two,” Lila said. “I sort of forced them together, and it was a bad idea. Anyway.”
A pause ensued.
“This is business,” Lila said, as if testing the concept. Her arm swept outward, gesturing to where Rhett stood with Grady, working on drainage.
“Right,” Jules said, finding it slightly difficult to meet Lila’s eyes. “Just business.” A strange feeling settled in the pit of her stomach when she thought of talking to Bridget and the advice she’d been given. But it wasn’t like that now. It wasn’t just Jules trying to be nice to stay on Rhett’s good side. Truth was, she might have tried, for a hot second,
to separate her emotions from the reality of losing her grip on the stables, but her feelings seemed to be just as ornery as ever; Rhett might have disappointed her, but she’d never stopped caring about him. That seemed impossible.
In a sudden panic, Jules tried to catch Maggie’s eye. Maggie was the only one here who’d been at the table listening to Bridget’s advice that night. Maggie! It’s not like that. It didn’t turn out the way I expected. I’m not pretending to care. I don’t know how it will end, but if you tell Lila what Bridget advised me to do . . . she might not understand.
“Just business, huh?” Maggie asked with laughter in her voice. “Keep your friends—” Then she caught Jules’s look of distress, because she shut her mouth.
Lila blinked. “Are you and Rhett—”
“Incoming!” hissed Charlie.
The men were coming in for a break as a team. Mick, Rafi, and Grady seemed to be comparing arm bruises. Jake and Rhett were laughing at something. Bode Wells and his buddy were walking in with Declan.
“We need some music,” Amelie breathed more than said.
“We need a breeze,” Lila said.
“And some slow-motion video,” Mia added.
Jules sucked in a quick breath; Rhett looked so happy. And in his rattty khakis, he looked so much like his teenage self. Flustered, Jules got up, grabbed a stack of red party cups, and started filling them up. “Who wants water?”
“Yo,” Rafi said, reaching out. “Thanks.”
“I’ll take a Gatorade,” Mick said. Jules passed out the filled cups and then it went dead silent as the men tipped their heads back and guzzled their drinks.
Maggie released a long, considering breath of air.
Somebody actually squeaked. Mia, Lila, Charlie? Who could say?
Lila’s gaze followed a drop of water as it trailed down Rafi’s chest, then arrowed straight down.
“You okay?” Rafi asked, his accent a little thicker than usual.
Lila brought her head up and focused on his eyes. “Fine,” she said briskly.
“Gracias,” he said with a wink.
