Lucy McConnell's Snow Valley Box Set

by Lucy McConnell

  Grady’s eyes drifted to Ronnie. Her long hair hung over the back of the pew, in front of his brother. Lance was asleep, his chin on his chest. Which was fine with Grady. He didn’t want anyone admiring Ronnie’s big, golden waves except him. He could admire them his whole life long and not get bored. They were lighter at the bottom, as if the summer sun had bleached the ends of her hair. She would look amazing in a canoe on Casperson Pond. They could go up for an afternoon of fishing and see where the breeze took them.

  Dad bumped his leg. “Quit staring,” he growled low.

  “I’m not.”

  Dad fixed him with his signature don’t-mess-with-me-boy glare.

  Grady tucked his smile away and did his best to refocus on Pastor John’s sermon. A few minutes into St. Matthew, and Grady was back to watching Ronnie. This time, he didn’t make it as obvious.

  “So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you.” Pastor John looked up from his aged Bible. His eyes traveled around the room and landed right on Grady. “Is this your standard?” he asked.

  Grady squirmed in his seat. He didn’t have a sister, but if he did, he wouldn’t want some guy having the kinds of thoughts about her that he was having about Ronnie. But … if the guy came forward and explained that he wanted to honorably date the fictitious sister, he’d understand. Maybe. No, he would. Mostly. He wouldn’t kill him. He’d followed the thou shalt not kill commandment his whole life, not even being tempted to break it.

  So why did the doing unto others commandment prick his conscience so strongly?

  He leaned his elbows on his knees and dug deep for an answer.

  Because if the situation was reversed, Troy wouldn’t even look at Grady’s fictitious little sister. There would be no flirting. No non-dates to Big C’s. No almost kisses—because no matter how hard he tried to explain away what had happened on the porch last night, he had almost kissed Ronnie.

  So there it was. He was a major jerk and a complete backstabber. Grady sunk into his seat.

  Ronnie’s mom leaned over, and Ronnie turned slightly so she could hear what her mom whispered. Her full lips, a delicious shade of pink, lifted into a small smile. A smile that held secrets and captivated his attention.

  Dad bumped Grady’s leg again. “Staring.”

  He sighed. He didn’t have a choice. He needed to talk to Troy.

  Today.

  And hope he lived to see tomorrow.

  Chapter 12

  “I love what you’ve done with the place.” Ronnie shed her belted jacket and hung it on one of the hooks next to the front door. When they were younger, the front entry had been littered with backpacks, cleats, boots, footballs, and the occasional science project. There were still boots, but they were lined up neatly under the bench. The wall was free of scuff marks, and there was a plant in the corner.

  “Thanks. It’s amazing what a fresh coat of paint can do.” Jan ushered her past the sitting room and into the large dining room and kitchen. A fresh coat of paint was just the beginning of the changes. The old floral couch had been replaced with dark leather seating. The square coffee table was gone, and a fabric-covered ottoman sat in its place. The old entertainment center had been re-stained a dark walnut, and the red curtains and throw pillows added just enough color.

  A sliding glass door off the kitchen hung open, giving free rein for everyone to wander back and forth between the redwood deck and the food spread across the kitchen island. Ronnie had spent many a Sunday afternoon eating with Grady’s family, usually at the kids’ table. She ran her hands down her long cowl-neck sweater, making sure it hadn’t bunched up on her leggings. She wasn’t a kid anymore. And, she wasn’t at all sure about coming here, even for a short time. Grady had taken off after church, not bothering to say hello, let alone goodbye. She wasn’t an especially tender person, but the snub had wounded her pride and put a large dent in her confidence. She’d been so sure he was going to kiss her last night. But, a guy who wants to kiss a woman doesn’t ignore her.

  Jan gave Ronnie a side-armed hug, which Ronnie happily returned. “I can’t believe how grown-up you all are now.”

  “She moved out years ago,” called Mom from behind the kitchen island. “And Candace did the same thing just last year. We’re officially empty nesters.”

  Ronnie smiled. “Speaking of Candace, where is she?” Her sister hadn’t made it to church—again. If she kept this up, there would be words.

  “I’m right here.” Candace came through the open glass door. She had on a pair of tight jeans and a sweater with a matching scarf. Though the temperatures had been chilly, the sun was out in all its glory today. The leaves still clinging to the trees were rimmed in golden light. Much like her sister.

  Grady came down the hallway that led to the bedrooms. “Something smells good.” Ronnie’s lungs froze, and her head became light. He’d changed into jeans, his good ones that he’d worn last night. He was right—they were a great pair of jeans, especially on him. He left his button-up shirt on, though he’d removed his tie and rolled the sleeves up to reveal corded forearms. Ronnie had brushed her fingers up those arms. She wanted to do that again. Now. So she tucked her hands behind her back and clasped her fingers together.

  Grady looked at and smiled at everyone but her. When he came to her, he looked over her shoulder and didn’t say a word.

  Ronnie wondered if they’d stepped into an alternate universe. One where they hadn’t gone out last night. There was no way she dreamed up a whole date. Especially not such a lame date. If she’d been dreaming, she would have kissed him fully, and he would have kissed her back and they would have ended up on her couch with a movie, their hands entwined and their lips tasting like popcorn butter as they shared kiss after kiss.

  The image was so good, so real, she could practically feel his arms around her.

  “Remember when we used to make a whole pot of chili just for the boys?” Jan asked Mom.

  Their voices cut through all the romantic notions zinging through Ronnie’s head. With a quick turn, Ronnie severed the daydream and remembered how to breathe. “I’d better get some before Grady has a shot at it.” She stood tall even though she felt anything but put together at the moment. How he managed to make her feel all undone with just a few looks was not fair. Not fair indeed.

  “Me too.” Candace got in line behind her.

  “H-how was the concert last night?” Ronnie asked her sister, trying to keep her focus on anything other than Grady. He wasn’t stuttering around the kitchen like she was. No, he was laughing with Jan and Mom and filling his bowl and topping it with cheese and sour cream and chives and following them out to the deck to eat.

  Candace took a seat at one of the tables next to Lance. There was only one other open chair at the table. Ronnie debated for all of one second where to sit. If she moved to the other table, her desire to sit by Grady would be obvious. If she sat with Candace, she wouldn’t get to sit with Grady. Definitely a problem.

  Being forward didn’t get her anywhere with him. He’d at least spoken to her yesterday. Despite being in his home, she couldn’t get him to even look at her. Instead of eating her chili in silence, she opted to sit with her sister.

  In the middle of the meal, Troy arrived. “Let the party begin!” He wore a hoodie and jeans, just like Grady wore. His hair was longer, almost long enough to put in a ponytail. For a moment, she contemplated sneaking into his room while he was asleep and braiding it—just to get back at him for showing up and ruining everything with Grady.

  Not that it was his fault. Not really. What could she have him do, be less of a friend? As much as she’d love to place the blame on her older brother—because what are older brothers for?—the one who had real issues was Grady.

  Maybe they just weren’t meant to be. She let out a small sigh and sunk into her chair.

  Troy hugged everyone—giving the guys hard pounds on the shoulder or back in the process and telling Mrs. Owens how pretty she looked. She laughed a
t his antics and dished him more food than an army battalion could eat.

  Ronnie kept her eyes on her bowl. She didn’t want to watch Grady put up walls between them. That was hard to see. She sank lower, pushing beans from one side of the bowl to the other.

  A while later, after everyone had eaten their fill, the dads went to the garage to tinker with an old Ford pickup, towing Troy along with them, and the brothers took to cleaning off the table. Candace scooted her chair closer to Ronnie’s. “Do you remember these guys being this cute when we were little?” Her eyes were locked on the men carrying dishes in to the moms, who were supervising Grady loading the dishwasher. Both Candace and Ronnie had offered to help, but the guys told them to stay put.

  They didn’t offer twice.

  “It’s because they’re doing the dishes—it increases their hotness level by, like, five points,” Ronnie replied.

  “Try ten.” Candace’s eyes tracked Lance with the attention of a cheetah. “The cowboy hat helps too.” She grabbed a football off the deck chair. “I’m going to see if Lance wants to play catch.”

  Not thirty seconds later, Lance tripped over himself to follow Candace down the stairs to the large field of grass. Ronnie shook her head at how easy her sister managed to capture a man’s attention while she’d had zero luck with Grady.

  She put her chin in her hand and leaned her elbow on the picnic table and sighed again. This time she put her heart into it—really letting the sadness seep through her pores. It wasn’t like she’d fallen in love with the guy after just one non-date that, if it had been a date, would have been a half-date at best. What really had her down was that she’d seen glimpses of what they could be like together in the way they bantered over the little things. If they could joke like that, their life together would be happy. That wasn’t too much to ask for in life, was it?

  Lance threw a perfect spiral, which Candace caught easily and returned. A relationship should be like that. Toss and catch. Give and take. So far, she’d done all the work. Which meant that it was time to step back. Besides, Ronnie wasn’t likely to get Grady back into date mode with her brother around. She should just head home.

  A plate clinked on the table to her right and she glanced over to see pumpkin pie covered in whipped cream and drizzled with caramel sauce. Turning a little more, she found Grady smiling down at her. “Pie makes family parties better.”

  He remembered! She looked from the plate to him and back again. Was this his way of tossing her the ball? Pie was a pretty great toss. She grinned, scooting the plate closer and snagging the fork. “And movie nights, road trips, and sore throats.” She took a small bite. “Thanks.”

  Grady settled into the seat next to her, filling in all the empty spaces in her thoughts and personal bubble. His shirt brushed her sleeve and her hands went warm.

  “Why do I think you had your tonsils out?”

  She swallowed the creamy deliciousness before responding. “Because I did.” She swirled the spoon around the top of the cream, gathering caramel, happy to take things slow with him this afternoon, letting him take the lead. Being with Grady was easy, like sliding on her favorite pair of coveralls, and yet every moment held the thrill of new chrome on a big ol’ Dodge truck. “I was ten and Mom and Dad were out of town and Troy was babysitting. He called you when my fever went to a hundred and one, and you held me in the truck all the way to the emergency room.”

  He snapped his fingers. “That’s right. I remember laying you down on the hospital bed and realizing my shirt was soaking wet.” He looked at her with admiration. “You’d cried the whole way into town and I didn’t know—you were so quiet and brave.”

  She laughed and shook her head. “It wasn’t that at all.”

  “It wasn’t?”

  “No. I didn’t want to freak Troy out. He panicked when Candace or I cried. Like, forget-how-to-function panic.”

  “He panics when any woman cries.” Grady’s arm found its way to the back of her chair. She could so easily lean into his chest. He was warm-bodied and the air had a light chill.

  She bumped his chest with her shoulder—testing his reception. “Right?! He can fix an oil leak, but if a girl leaks …”

  “Hey, in his defense, girls don’t come with instruction manuals.” Grady’s grin was all over Flirtville, and it was all Ronnie could do not to kiss him right then and there.

  She ducked her head and looked up at him through lowered lashes. His gaze was soft, tender even, and didn’t hold a trace of the distance he’d so readily put between them before. She leaned closer, her body fitting nicely into that spot he’d opened up. “We’re not that complicated.”

  He brushed her hair over her shoulder, his gaze tracing her cheek and then dropping to her lips.

  “Grady!” Troy called from the back lawn. “Come on—we need you to even up teams.”

  Grady’s eyes darted between her and Troy. “I’m on vacation,” he told Troy.

  Though Grady was torn, and she loved that he didn’t want to leave her side, she wasn’t going to force him to declare his interest in her—if there really was any. She still wasn’t sure. Pie was great, and the few innocent touches were doing crazy things to her head and heart, but she needed a sign—something big enough she couldn’t ignore.

  Troy wasn’t one to give up easily. He bounded up the steps. “Quit babysitting and get out here.”

  Grady’s arm fell from the back of her chair, and a chill crept over her skin. Ronnie glared at her idiot of a big brother. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

  Troy tossed the football up and caught it again. “Uh, history begs to differ. You almost burnt the house down.”

  She bit back her retort, because there wasn’t much she could say about that. She had almost burnt the house down trying to make homemade éclairs for Grady. They were his favorite. She’d forgotten to set the timer, and the éclairs went up in smoke. Troy put the fire out with baking soda and—to her ultimate humiliation—Grady opened the doors and windows to let the smoke out. “I was eleven,” she finally said.

  “You still can’t cook.”

  “How would you know? You haven’t been home longer than five minutes in ten years.” She got to her feet, a sense of triumph flooding her at the sight of Troy’s repentant shrug. “I’m leaving. You boys enjoy your game.” She couldn’t look at Grady. Surely fighting with her brother as if they were children had wiped any of the admiration out of Grady’s gaze. “Thanks for the pie.” She took the plate with her, heading for the kitchen where she’d say goodbye to their hosts and make a hasty retreat.

  Before she made it all the way inside, someone hooked her elbow to make her stop. “Hey.” Grady’s voice was low. She turned to find him with his phone out. “I, um, can I get your number?”

  She almost dropped the pie plate. “You want my number?”

  Grady’s cheeks went cherry red.

  Behind him, Troy laughed. “How else is he going to find out if the truck is done?”

  “Oh.” She tightened her grip on the plate, her shoulders as cold and rigid as a carton of ice cream right out of the deep freeze. “Of course.” Grady Owens wouldn’t ask for her phone number, not with Troy standing there and probably not ever. Whatever she’d suspected was between them, whatever attraction burned bright, his friendship with Troy outweighed it by forty pounds.

  She rattled off her number and Grady put it into his phone. He looked at her long enough to make her eyes meet his. “Thanks.” Her phone beeped a moment later. “Now you have my number.”

  Lot of good it’ll do me. “Yep.” She forced a smile and ducked as quickly as possible into the kitchen. Mom and Jan were at the table with large cups of Jan’s homemade herbal tea. Their laughter filled the large space. Ronnie said goodbye and hugged both of them. She sprinted across the lawn to her car parked at the curb. With the door shut, she felt like she could finally breathe.

  Her phone beeped. She swiped the screen to read Grady’s text. The first one said: I still think
you were brave.

  The icy feeling started to melt. His next text read: Troy’s an idiot. She laughed right there. “There might just be hope for you yet, Grady Owens,” she said to the house before pulling away from the curb.

  Chapter 13

  Grady watched Ronnie talk to their moms and then disappear out the front door. The urge to run after her and leave all this family bonding behind for a chance at one-on-one time with an incredible woman was strong. Strong enough that his feet had carried him inside the sliding glass door.

  “Do you need something, hon?” asked Mom. She and Mrs. Martin stared over their herbal tea.

  “I—” He blinked hard. “You and Ronnie have the same color of hair.”

  Mrs. Martin exchanged a look with Mom. Grady had no idea what that look meant, but he had a feeling they’d been talking about him. From their vantage point at the kitchen table, they might have seen him deliver Ronnie a piece of pumpkin pie. He wasn’t all that smooth. If he was trying to hide his interest, he should have offered pie to everyone. But he’d wanted Ronnie to feel special, wanted her to know he thought about their conversation last night.

  If the moms hadn’t been talking about him, they would be now that he’d followed Ronnie through the house like a lovesick, whipped, totally smitten jerk. “Sorry—I’m tired and saying stupid things.”

  “Because you were out late with Ronnie last night?” Mom took a sip of her tea.

  “Whaaaa …?” Mrs. Martin slowly set her cup down, as if she didn’t want to frighten him away with any sudden moves.

  “No. Because I had to wrestle steers all day yesterday.” Grady rotated his still-sore right shoulder.