by J. M. Hill
“Homemade? Are you kidding me?” His eyes widened with what I recognized as ‘food-elation’. Kate and I often have a very similar reaction over Haagen-Dazs or cheesecake.
“Gracie makes excellent bread, and she does it from scratch,” Kate bragged. I nudged her with my elbow, but she just continued. “We don’t want to intrude, we just wanted to introduce ourselves.”
“You’re not intruding at all. C’mon in.” He stepped to the side, and Kate pulled me through the doorway.
“Hey, Miles! Michael! We have company!” Garrett hollered from behind me, making me flinch. I turned to look at him and he winked as he shoved an entire cookie in his mouth. I had to laugh. This guy was massive, and surprisingly un-scary. I liked him already.
We followed Garrett inside, and I was impressed at how orderly their house seemed to be, especially for three guys. There was a staircase in the foyer to the right of the front door, leading to a loft that opened to the living room below. The layout of the main level was very similar to ours. The modern kitchen opened to the living room, with a large breakfast bar surrounded by sturdy leather barstools. Tall windows made up most of the wall in the kitchen and eating area. To the right of the kitchen a hallway ran along the back of the house, which I assumed led to the bedrooms.
The walls were white with dark stained crown molding that matched the hardwood floors. Their furniture was rich, dark brown leathers and woods, and thick rugs in neutral colors accented areas of the floor. There were several, large black and white framed pictures of land and seascapes that decorated the walls, as well as built-in shelves full of books, CD’s, a very intimidating stereo system, and family photographs. A plasma television was mounted over the fireplace, there were hardly any accessories. Everything simple, clean, and masculine.
As Garrett led us into the living room, we were met by the ‘adorable one’, and I was pretty sure that should be his name.
“Miles, this is Kate and Grace,” Garrett said, as he pushed yet another cookie into his mouth. “And they brought food.”
Miles shook his head at his brother, and then smiled kindly at us. “It’s wonderful to meet you both.” He put his hand out to me, and then to Kate. His gaze fixed on her as they shook hands, and she smiled her sparkly-Kate-smile at him.
“And how did you know to bring food for him?” Miles tilted his head toward Garrett, who was now sitting on the sofa studying the gift card with his mouth full.
“Lucky guess?” Kate said with a giggle, and Miles watched her intently for a moment, then motioned for us to sit on the sofa.
“The Open Book Café?” Garrett asked, turning the gift card over.
“That’s our shop in town,” Kate explained. “It’s a bookstore and a coffee shop.”
“Great! Thanks!” Garrett said excitedly. Clearly, he was easily pleased.
“I’ve actually been in there,” Miles said to Kate. “You two own that place?”
Kate nodded with a smile.
“You have great coffee,” he said.
I couldn’t help but look around for the ‘stunning one’, but he was nowhere to be found, and part of me was relieved. The embarrassment from that morning still fresh in my mind. Garrett pulled the small dish of cinnamon butter from the basket, and brought it to his nose.
“What’s this?” His nose wrinkled.
“It’s cinnamon-butter for the bread,” I told him. “It’s really good when the bread is warm.”
He looked at me apprehensively.
“Haven’t you ever had cinnamon-butter before?” I asked.
He shrugged, and I stood from the couch.
“Shall we?” I asked him, gesturing toward the kitchen. He smiled widely as he picked up the basket, and we walked to the kitchen together, leaving Miles and Kate deep in their own conversation.
“Do you have a bread board?” I asked. Garrett scanned the kitchen for a moment, his lips pursed together as if concentrating, then looked down at me with a nonplussed expression.
“Okay, I don’t even know what that is.”
I bit the side of my mouth trying not to laugh. “May I?”
Garrett nodded and watched me with his arms folded across his massive chest. I searched the kitchen for the necessary equipment, finding an unused breadboard and a knife. I spread some of the cinnamon butter onto a warm slice of bread and set it on a plate, sliding it in front of him. Without hesitation he shoved half of the piece into his mouth and chewed. I waited, anxious for his reaction and wasn’t disappointed. His eyes rolled into his head as he slid slowly into one of the barstools, shaking his head.
“Good?” I asked.
“This is the best bread I’ve ever had. You made this?”
I nodded. “You want another piece?”
“Hell yeah,” he said excitedly, and then cleared his throat. “I mean, yeah.”
I laughed as he pushed the rest of the slice into his mouth, and fixed him another piece.
“Tomorrow morning, toast the bread and then put on the cinnamon butter. You’ll like that even more.”
“Okay, I’ll trust you.” He winked as he finished his second piece. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” I walked back into the living room and Garrett followed, carrying the plate of chocolate chip cookies, sitting next to me on the sofa. Kate and Miles were still deep in conversation as Garrett turned on the TV. Monday Night Football was getting started, and Hank Williams Jr. asked if we were ready for some football. I loved that. The Raiders were taking the field against the Chargers. “I hope the Chargers kick their tails,” I muttered.
Garrett chortled and turned to me with a raised eyebrow. “You like football?”
“Yes, I like football.” I’ve always felt a little insulted when guys presume I don’t like sports just because I’m female. Garrett seemed entertained by the idea.
He chuckled. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you, I just don’t know many girls that like sports.”
“Well, you know at least two now,” I informed him. “Kate and I love football.”
“Really?” His tone was dubious, and he grinned smugly. “NFL or college?”
“Both.”
“So who do you like?”
“NFL or college?”
He snorted a laugh. “Well, let’s start with college and move on from there.” His voice was thick with sarcasm, though he tried to look serious. I knew he was challenging me, but I was okay with it. Thanks to Uncle David, Kate and I had always been able to hold our own in any football discussion.
“Pac-Ten, or the SEC?” I asked, settling in for the challenge.
He cocked an eyebrow at me in surprise, and shrugged, no longer amused.
“Okay, how about if I start with the Pac-Ten, and…move on from there.” I raised an eyebrow as I repeated his words. Garrett’s eyes narrowed as I began.
“Our family had four generations of USC grads, including our parents, so our devotion to the team is in our blood. People say their division is weak, but did you know SC has the most BCS Bowl wins and appearances in their conference? In the past ten years, they’ve had fifty-six players selected in the NFL draft, thirteen of those players going in the first round? In the last three years alone, an average of nine SC players are chosen per season.” I focused my attention on the television casually, as I continued. “As far as the SEC is concerned, I’ve always liked University of Florida. They look great this season, and I love watching them kick Georgia’s tail. Oh, and for the NFL, it’s the Broncos, all the way. Win or lose.” I smiled in conclusion while Garrett processed everything I’d said. Slowly, a huge grin spread across his face.
“Very nice.” His voice was appreciative as he nodded.
“I think you just got told big brother.”
Garrett guffawed as I turned to see the ‘stunning one’ standing near the sofa in blue jeans and a black t-shirt. His eyes were green, and they held mine as he smiled a crooked, beautiful smile so sexy, it was difficult to look away.
I deci
ded ‘stunning one’ should definitely be his name. Definitely.
“Hi, I’m Michael Anderson.”
“I’m Grace.” I stood to shake his hand.
“It’s nice to meet you.” His voice was soft, his hand warm and strong.
“It’s…um, nice to meet you, too. This is my cousin, Kate,” I said, trying to break whatever kind of crazy, hypnotizing, voodoo spell he’d just cast over me. “We’re your neighbors.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said, with an amused grin.
Geez. Of course he knew we were neighbors. I flushed with my stupidity. He shook hands with Kate, then studied Garrett for a moment.
“What are you eating?” Michael asked Garrett.
“Chocolate chip cookies. Why?” Garrett mumbled with his mouth full, and tucked the almost-empty plate of cookies into his side protectively, as if afraid Michael would take them away.
Michael scanned the kitchen. “Do I smell bread?”
“Yep. Grace here made us some homemade bread, and these cookies.” Garrett pushed another cookie into his mouth.
“Actually, Kate made the cookies,” I corrected.
“That was very nice of you,” Michael said. “Did my brother eat all the bread, or is there some left?”
Garrett snorted. “No, I didn’t eat it all, but you’d better get some while you can because I make no promises. And you need to have Grace fix you up with some of that cinnamon-butter. Trust me.”
Michael looked at me expectantly. “Cinnamon-butter?”
“I made some for the bread,” I responded, and turned my focus back to the TV.
“Well, aren’t you going to fix me up?”
Something about his voice and the way he looked at me, made me so nervous.
“Sure.” I stood from the couch and followed Michael into the kitchen. “Since I was just in here with your brother, do you mind…”
“Go ahead.” He nodded with that same grin, and sat on a barstool. He watched with his chin resting in his hand as I spread a piece of the bread with cinnamon butter. His expression was impassive as he took a bite of the still-warm bread. He chewed a couple of times, looked at the bread in his hand, and back at me. I waited for him to say something, but he just smiled widely and continued chewing again. I took that as a good thing. After a moment his silence became unsettling, so I busied myself with wiping crumbs from the counter being careful not to drop any on the floor.
“Thanks for the bread,” he finally spoke. “You’re quite a cook.”
I heard a buzzing sound, and he pulled a cell phone from the pocket of his jeans, pressed a button and set it on the counter.
“So, what do you do?” he asked as he continued to enjoy his piece of bread, keeping his eyes on me.
“We—Kate and I—own the coffee shop in town,” I replied. “The Open Book Café?”
He nodded with recognition. “Miles and I have been there.” One side of his mouth turned up. “Which part do you own? The coffee shop, or the bookstore?”
Was he trying not to laugh? I began to worry about smudges on my face, or something hanging from my nose.
Please, not that.
“We’re equal owners, but I take care of the bookstore.”
“You like books?”
“I love books,” I amended.
He leaned back, folding his hands behind his head. “Well then, I’ll definitely have to check out the bookstore next time.”
“You like to read?” I couldn’t help the incredulity in my tone, but he didn’t seem like the type to spend free time with his nose in a book.
“You don’t think I read?” he asked with a smirk.
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
He chuckled quietly and his phone vibrated again.
“Excuse me,” he said politely, and pressed the phone to his ear as he disappeared down the hall.
I returned to the living room and stood by the arm of the sofa where Garrett was watching the game intently.
“Who’s winning?” I asked.
“The Raiders,” Garrett grumbled in disdain.
“I hate the Raiders,” I muttered in equal disdain. “They’re playing the Broncos in two weeks.”
“Yeah, I know. Should be a good game,” he said. “You gonna watch it?”
I snorted. “Does it snow here?”
Garrett laughed loudly as Michael came into the room wearing the black leather jacket I recognized from the first time I saw him standing in his driveway.
“Where ya goin’, little brother?” Garrett asked.
Michael raked his hand through his hair, and glanced sideways at me before answering. “I’m meeting Nina,” he said. “Grace, it was nice meeting you. Thanks for the bread.”
The stab of disappointment I felt surprised me. Why should I be disappointed? I didn’t even know him. Besides, he was too pretty not to be with someone.
“You’re welcome.” I forced a smile and watched him say goodbye to Miles and Kate, and then walk out the door.
Hmph. Nina. No doubt Nina was just as gorgeous as him.
“We should go, Gracie,” Kate said. “It was great meeting you guys.”
Miles and Garrett followed us to the front door.
“Thank you so much for coming over. It was wonderful meeting you both,” Miles said, his voice full of sincerity. I knew he was talking to both of us, but he kept his eyes on Kate.
“Remember what I said about the bread in the morning, Garrett,” I reminded him.
“I’ll remember,” he said.
We descended the steps of the porch, and we glanced at each other sideways. Kate waggled her eyebrows. We both flopped onto the sofa and Kate gazed up at the ceiling, while I turned on the football game.
“Are you okay?” I asked her.
She nodded, and then closed her eyes. “He’s so sweet”.
“Garrett?” I teased, knowing she was talking about Miles.
She rolled her eyes. “Miles,” she said dreamily.
“He’s pretty cute.” I nudged her.
“He’s just…pretty,” she amended.
“Yeah, they’re all pretty,” I said. “I don’t think it’s normal for men to be that pretty.”
“You were right about Miles and Garrett being twins,” she said, ignoring my comment. “They’re twenty-six, and Michael is twenty-four.”
I nodded, sure that she had more.
“Miles is a Structural Engineer, Michael an Architect and Garrett a Project Manager. The business was started by their dad, but he’s recently retired. They do most of their work from their house now, and run the business themselves. Their parents live near the Springs, and spend a lot of time traveling.” Kate probably got more information in a thirty minute conversation than most people would get in a month. “They lived in Denver for almost a year and decided they’d had their fill. They’re originally from New York.” She sighed. “I guess that’s all, except, did I say how incredibly sweet Miles is?”
I had to laugh at her dreamy expression. “Yes, you mentioned that part.”
There was definitely something different about the Andersons. Garrett was funny, Kate made it clear that Miles was ‘sweet’, and Michael…well, I couldn’t be sure, but he was definitely something.
THREE
The shop was a usual flurry of morning customers when Kate and I arrived. We greeted Kenny, our store manager, and Peggy, a silver-haired grandmother who works for us part time, as we headed to our office. Kate sat at her overly-organized desk and started going through paperwork, while I returned to the coffee counter to steam milk for our coffees, weaving between Kenny and Peggy who were busy filling orders. I returned to the office with slices of blueberry bread, and our coffees on a tray. This was our morning ritual. We sat at our desks and ate breakfast together in silence while going through mail.
I was going over an invoice for a shipment of books I was expecting, and Kate giggled.
“What’s funny?” I asked.
“I love it when we expect a shi
pment of books,” she said. “You’re like a kid at Christmas.”
It was true. I loved books, and loved that I got to work around them all day. The bookstore was my sanctuary. My happy place. Before he died, Uncle David made sure Kate and I would be financially secure and the café was his last gift to us. Kate’s degree in business made her a force to be reckoned with, and my degree in Literature? Well, I was able to keep the bookstore stocked with the best possible selections.
Our shop is right in the middle of our home town, Fall Rivers, which is located outside the beautiful mountain community of Boulder Colorado. Fall Rivers is so small most people pass through without realizing they’ve gone through an actual town.
We’re next to the post-office, Sally’s Diner, Fletcher’s Garage, and the Sheriff’s Department. Uncle David saw the potential of the small brick building, and the location. Originally, it was just going to be a bookstore, but he suggested adding the coffee shop which turned out to be a fantastic idea, as well as a profitable one. Most of our customers are local college students, and tourists passing through on their way to one of the many ski resorts or National Parks in the area. Even so, we have our regular customers, people we’ve known most of our lives.
Kenny appeared in the doorway of our office, and stretched his long, lanky arms up over his head and yawned. We’ve known Kenny since elementary school, and his dad was one of the teachers at our high school. Kenny received a basketball scholarship to Arizona State, but during his sophomore year his dad had a debilitating stroke, and his mom left. Kenny quit school to take care of his dad. He came to us for a job two weeks before we opened, and has worked for us ever since.
“Unless you need me to stay, I’m going to head out. Peggy’s here, and I’ll be back at four. I’m beat.”
“That’s fine,” I told him. “We’re supposed to get that shipment today, but I’ll probably have it done before you get back.” “Yeah, I’m sure you will.” He patted the top of my head patronizingly. “So, have you met the new neighbors yet?”
“Yes.” Kate smiled. “We met them last night.”
I tried not to laugh because Kenny wanted more information and Kate was not accommodating him.
