“Mrs. Brooks.” Eric perked up at the mention of the lady. “She had a dog, Duke. He’s in doggie heaven now.”
“He is.” I patted his arm. “About seven years ago, we were at the market and the dog food we grabbed spilled.”
“It went everywhere,” Eric said.
The mess wasn’t funny at the time, but looking back, it was. And he was right. It was a disaster.
“The food was like cardboard. Dog’s shouldn’t have to eat cardboard.” Eric was adamant, passionate.
“While we helped clean up, Eric came up with the idea. We did some research about dog nutrition and came up with a recipe.”
“Duke wouldn’t touch it.”
Everyone snickered.
“Our first test was not successful,” I agreed.
“Good thing you didn’t try it out on these hooligans. They’ll eat anything,” Miss Adeline said.
“I’m not sure they would’ve eaten that.”
That earned another round of laughs. Except Lincoln, who looked like an unfeeling rock.
“It took us seventeen tries,” Eric volunteered. We didn’t put that nugget of information on our brochure.
“Duke was our guinea pig. But eventually, we found the right formula.”
“We want to grow a garden with our own ingredients.”
I tensed. I was protective of our goals and plans. Our secrets. We had talked about a garden to grow things like carrots, spinach, and kale lots of times, though it wasn’t feasible in the near future. That took money and land we didn’t have. Maybe if we moved out of the city, but that wasn’t ever happening.
“We cooperate with a rescue upstate,” Pepper said. “They also specialize in heirloom seeds and plants. We’ll connect you. If you can’t start your own garden, maybe they’d be willing to send you some of what they grow.”
I buzzed with the possibility. Straight from the farm ingredients was the ultimate goal. I wanted to have the best dog food both in taste and nutrition. We purchased organic foods when possible, and I felt good about the effort we made. But we could do better.
For a long time, I’d believed Eric and I didn’t need anyone else. The people we were supposed to be able to count on most had let us down. As we’d slowly had more interaction with others through our growing business, I felt myself opening up to the idea of letting other people into our lives.
But trust wasn’t an easy thing.
Maybe I could take a lesson from my brother.
“I’d like that,” I said quietly.
“I’ll speak to them in the morning.” Pepper offered me a kind smile. “Want to take some leftovers? Teague thinks when he’s at home he’s cooking for the whole station of hungry firemen.”
“We should start going there for dinner,” Miss Adeline said. “For a change of scenery.” Mischief was all over her face.
“What’s wrong with the scenery here?” Teague asked as if offended.
“Oh, nothing at all. I just like to mix things up.”
“I’ll box some up.” Pepper pushed back her chair. “You can help if you want to avoid any more of this conversation.” She grinned at me.
“The kitchen isn’t that far away,” Miss Adeline pointed out.
“Am I too late for dinner?” Beau breezed into the apartment as if it were her own. She cast a nasty glare in Lincoln’s direction.
“Never.” Miss Adeline patted Pepper’s vacated chair.
“I thought you had too much work to do,” Teague said.
“I do, but I got hungry.” She hooked her purse on the back of a barstool and plopped down at the table. “Did you invite me to patch things up with him?” She sent another dirty look at Lincoln.
“Nope.” Teague folded his arms and leaned back. “But since you’re both here and I can referee, let’s get this worked out.”
“I’m sorry,” Lincoln blurted quietly.
The entire room stopped. Beau and Teague stared at him as if he were a stranger.
“You are?” Beau finally asked.
“Yes.”
“What about me being an annoying little sister?” she challenged.
“Is that all he said?” Teague asked incredulously. “You are an annoying little sister.”
“Oh, now it’s two against one,” she retorted.
“And it’s still an uneven playing field.” Lincoln’s expression remained unchanged. Unreadable. “You’re better than both of us put together.”
My lips parted at the unexpected words.
Teague frowned. “I should be offended, but you’re right.”
“Damn it,” Beau said. “You’re both forgiven.”
Was that how most families resolved arguments? It seemed easy.
And Lincoln.
He hadn’t said much, but his words had been effective. I figured he’d sit there all buttoned-up without trying to work things out.
There wasn’t emotion in his voice. He was as even and calm as ever. But after he’d hugged Eric and so easily apologized to Beau, I was beginning to think there might be some sort of feelings underneath the surface after all.
That was frightening.
“Thank you for dinner,” I said as I snapped the lid closed on a glass container. “But Eric and I need to go.”
“You’re leaving? I just got here.” Beau pouted as she stood.
She moved to the kitchen and pulled me in for a hug.
“Sorry. Maybe we can catch up this weekend?” I hoped we could find the time to hang out. She’d be leaving soon and we’d barely seen each other.
“Definitely. It’s been too long.” She held me at arm’s length and studied me for a second.
In some ways, she had those same scrutinizing eyes her brother did. Like she could see inside me.
She was the person I trusted most besides Eric, but it was easy when she lived so far away and I didn’t have to confess the day-to-day goings on. Now that she was here, I wanted to confide in someone who knew at least part of the truth. To simply hang out together where there weren’t enormous responsibilities on my shoulders every day. Sometimes, it just got . . . lonely.
“You okay?”
“Long day.” I hugged her again, suddenly desperate to release what had been building all afternoon. The whisper in her ear surfaced before I could stop it. “My dad is out of prison.”
Chapter Twenty
Lincoln
“You really don’t have to escort us.”
I ignored Lexie’s protest and climbed out of her van. She was right. I didn’t have time. But she and Eric were exhausted. I barely needed sleep.
“Does all of this need to be unloaded?”
She unlocked the metal door to a dimly lit building in the Bowery. I hadn’t decided if parking in the alley was safer than the street. At least here, they could make it in and out of the kitchen quickly.
“These.” She pointed to a stack of boxes then frowned. “I think.”
Eric propped the door open with a rock. He’d been quiet since dinner, but if the continuous succession of yawns was any indication, he was just tired.
I made short work of carrying boxes while they set up their workspace. It was small, but clean. The appliances were commercial grade, though they were old.
How much time did they waste every day setting up and breaking down? If they had a place of their own, it could save them. Maybe they could store more supplies, make larger batches of food, grow a garden.
Stay out of it.
But I was already in it. Whatever it was.
Lexie looked at me over her shoulder as she rummaged through a cardboard carton. “Will you bring in a few of the boxes on the left side too? I think I mixed everything up earlier.”
I did as requested and secured the van and the door to the kitchen. She and Eric had already created chaos. Half-unpacked boxes littered the floor and there were items spread all over the metal counter. It reminded me of their apartment.
I shrugged off my jacket and found a stool to lay it ov
er.
Eric watched as I undid my cufflinks. “Can you show me how to use those someday?”
“Of course.” I slipped the cufflinks that had belonged to my grandfather into my pocket and rolled up my sleeves.
“What are you doing?” Lexie stared at my forearms.
“Waiting for you to give me my next instructions.”
Her throat worked as she swallowed hard. “Do you have any kitchen experience?”
“I have one. Does that count?”
She snorted. “I guess it will have to.” She pointed her head to her right. “You do know what a refrigerator is, right?”
I wanted to laugh. The feeling was foreign and the noise didn’t know how to escape. “I think so.”
“It’s over there.” Eric thrust his finger toward the large stainless steel appliance.
“In the bottom drawer, there are carrots and celery. You can wash them.” Lexie bit her lip, though her eyes lit. “If you can find the sink.”
This time my face felt an odd pull to it on one side. “You’re challenging me.”
“Are you smiling?” She looked like she wished she’d kept a lid on her mouth.
“I’m not familiar with that either,” I returned easily, and she relaxed.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” she muttered.
I flipped on the water and rinsed the vegetables as instructed. It was strange having someone else tell me what to do. The dominant part of me wanted to take control, but I couldn’t. Because I didn’t know what needed to be done.
“Peel those, please.” Lexie gave me a quick demonstration of what she wanted before handing me the peeler.
She’d made it look easy. A carrot slipped out of my grasp as I struggled to master the technique.
Lexie didn’t complain at how long it took me to peel the pile. She and Eric moved through their tasks like a fine-tuned team. They sang along to a music playlist that thankfully didn’t include “Me and Bobby McGee” on repeat.
“Inner City Blues” by Marvin Gaye caught me by surprise. Most of what they listened to was upbeat . . . much like they were. This was a different side of their musical taste. One that I could fit in with.
“Finished.” I held up a peeled carrot.
“Perfect timing.” Lexie gathered a bundle and took it back to where she had been working. She chopped the vegetables with precision, then tossed them in a pot she had heating on the stove.
Neither of them referred to any notes or recipes. They knew the measurements and ingredients by heart.
“How long have you been doing this?” I gathered the carrot peels to toss in the trash.
“No. Wait.”
I froze.
“We can use those,” Lexie said. She pulled out a baking sheet and lined it with parchment paper.
“In the dog food?” Why did I peel them if she was just going to add them back in?
“We could. Put them here.” She pointed to the baking sheet. “We’re going to make snacks for us.”
I stared incredulously as she drizzled olive oil and an array of spices on the pile before tossing it. Eric helped her spread the peels into a thin layer.
“You eat those?” I had my doubts. Serious ones.
“We make awesome strawberry ice cream, don’t we?” she challenged.
I couldn’t very well argue with that point. “You do.”
“Wait until you taste these babies.” She tilted her head. “It’s not strawberry ice cream, but for healthy food, it’s the bomb.”
“Dot com,” Eric finished.
“I have no idea what that means.” I shrugged.
“You will soon enough.” She surveyed the space. “All of this is trash.” She waved her hand over the counter. “There’s some cleaner and paper towels in that storage locker.”
I followed her gaze with mine before I set to work. Once I’d cleaned, they set up jars, lids, and labels.
“Where do you keep all of this?” There was enough to fill their home refrigerator easily.
“Here. The morning shift people don’t mind if we use their space because we pick it up before they get here.” She sat on one of the stools.
I checked my watch. It was nearly ten. “What time do you arrive?”
“Six thirty.” She spoke simply as if it were no major issue.
I had usually been to work for a couple hours by then, but I wasn’t most people. These two had an admirable work ethic and seemed to manage to have a life outside of their business . . . something I hadn’t been able to accomplish.
Eric placed the tray of carrot peels in the oven when the ready light lit.
“Teague said you specialize the dog food according to breed.” I leaned against the counter.
Lexie straightened. “We do.”
“We’re making the base now,” Eric said.
“We usually customize after that’s done,” she finished. “We mix it up every day too. Yesterday’s base had fish, today it’s chicken.”
“And you deliver to your customers every day?” I appreciated their desire for freshness but wasn’t sure it was a necessity. If they had someone to deliver for them, that would free them up to grow their business.
“Some twice a day.”
My brows shot up at her revelation. “Will the food not keep a few days?”
“It will.” Lexie stirred the pot on the stove. “We do what’s best for the dogs and their owners. Some people like only a few deliveries a week and others want daily.”
“If you dictated the schedule, you could streamline your process.”
Lines creased her forehead. “We’re a niche. Customizable. That’s what makes us unique and successful.”
And they’d done well, but they could do better. Having an outside eye helped identify areas for improvement.
“What about your bottom line?” A few tweaks and they could increase profitability.
“We’re not starving,” she said crisply. “And our customers like what we’re doing, including your brother and Pepper.”
“They run a rescue. The food is free. Of course they like it.”
She turned her back on me and slumped her shoulders. She banged the spoon on the pot so hard Eric jumped.
Fire blazed at me when she wheeled back around. “We work really hard. I thought you of all people would respect that.”
She didn’t use that lethal tone I was used to. It was even, quiet, and effective.
“I do. I—” I plowed a hand through my hair, rarely at a loss for words. “Business is what I do—”
“Dictating is what you do.”
Probably. But my way was the right way. It might not be best to mention that now.
“Please don’t fight.”
Lexie paled, and I recoiled at Eric’s words. While a part of me enjoyed riling her up and arguing, the other recognized we weren’t the only ones in the room. Eric was sensitive. It hadn’t taken spending much time around him to realize that.
I didn’t want to upset him.
I frowned. When was the last time I’d cared about someone’s feelings other than Beau’s and Teague’s?
“I’m sorry, bow tie.” She side-hugged him, and he gave her a wide smile.
I remained quiet, the clam Beau had accused me of being. What was I doing here? I had no place in their lives, no time for other people. I couldn’t worry about the decisions I made or the words I used and how they would affect others.
The hug Eric had given me earlier flew into my brain.
The act had been selfless, courageous, and kind. All the attributes I wasn’t.
And it didn’t matter if I never saw either of them again. I would still consider their happiness over my own.
Because they’d done something to me. Or maybe revealed something I didn’t know was there.
I couldn’t change who I was, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to. But I could admit my faults.
“My apologies. To both of you.”
“You’re forgiven,” Eric said easily
.
Lexie looked as if I’d just revealed the secret to time travel. Stunned. “Well now I can’t kick you out of the van on the way home.”
I smirked. “I notice you aren’t booting me before we’ve finished here.”
“I’m not crazy. We still have work to do, and your hands are better than no hands.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Lexie
“Have you heard from him again?”
I pressed the phone between my ear and shoulder as I slammed the van door. We were five minutes late for art class, and Eric had been counting every second.
“No.” I’d blocked the number and hadn't answered ones I didn’t recognize.
Eric gave me an impatient look as I hurried to his side. “Sis.”
“Beau, can I call you back in a little while?”
“Hey, Beau.” My brother temporarily forgot the cause of his distress.
“Hi, Eric. I thought you’d be finished with deliveries for the day,” she said.
“We’re headed to art class.”
“Where?”
“425 Baxter Street.”
“Fun. I’ll meet you there.”
She hung up before I had a chance to tell her the class might be over by the time she arrived.
“Ready?” I asked as I opened the door to the community center.
“Let’s Bob Ross this thing.”
I laughed. “That should be our motto.”
Eric and I were dotting happy little trees on our canvas when Beau breezed in. She pulled up a stool between us, completely ignoring the displeased look from our instructor. Not Bob Ross. He was on a video so he didn’t care.
“These are good. Really good.” She admired the start of Eric’s cabin on a lake.
“He’s incredible.”
He had a creative gift and loved this class since we’d found it a few months ago. Because it was held at the community center, the fee wasn’t too bad. I’d have figured out a way to make it happen even if it was more expensive.
“Thanks, Beau,” Eric said absently as he concentrated on the video and making his next strokes.
She flashed me a look, those always spinning wheels turning harder. “Maybe the dog food should be a side gig. I know a gallery in London that would love to show these.”
Rise: Rise & Fall Duet Book 1 (Shaken 3) Page 10
