by K. F. Breene
“Okay, that’s it for volunteers,” Dan said, folding his paper and clipping it to his clipboard. “Cooking staff, head in. We’ll have dinner at the fire pit.”
“Shoot, I only got those two things.” Sara crinkled her schedule as she tucked it into her back pocket.
“Trust me, those two classes will seem like five! Oh my God…” Christie’s fingers wrapped around Sara’s wrist. “Don’t freak out!”
Sara started and looked up quickly, expecting some sort of emergency. Instead, her gaze met a wide expanse of muscular shoulder. “Why? What’s happenin—”
“Hi, Mike,” Christie said, yanking on Sara’s wrist to make her step closer.
In confusion, Sara tilted her face upward and met that spun-honey gaze she’d seen a moment ago.
“How are you?” Christie asked.
The fingertips digging holes in Sara’s arm were starting to hurt.
Mike’s gaze flicked toward Christie. He nodded before his focus settled back on Sara a moment later. “Sara Michaels, right?”
“Um, yes?” she answered hesitantly.
He stared expectantly.
Her eyebrows rose slowly. Was she supposed to recognize him, somehow?
Taking his extended pause as a yes, she scanned his vaguely familiar face. High cheekbones and a narrow nose adorned his handsome appearance. The color of his eyes was even more spectacular up close, with bursts of browns, hazel, and flecks of green wrapped in lush black lashes. Completing the tableau was a strange sort of command in his bearing—dominance, almost—with a hint of arrogance that often came from a silver spoon and a lingering case of Huge-Bank-Account-Itis.
She shook her head. “Sorry, I don’t think I know you…”
“I’m Mikey Frost,” he said. “Jack’s son. We grew up together…”
Her brow furrowed as she made sense of those names.
“Mikey Frost…” she whispered, calling up the face of the boy in the back of his parents’ car, waving as he drove away.
She looked at the man in front of her again, struggling to wipe away the haze of memory. With difficulty, she placed the handsome, chiseled face over that of the pudgy boy’s from her memories. Those same eyes looked at her.
A thrill ran through her. “No way,” she breathed. Emotions, long forgotten, bubbled up out of nowhere. Butterflies filled her stomach.
“No freaking way,” she said, louder. The world spun around her as joy blossomed.
“Oh my God! Oh my God!” she screamed. Like a teenager, she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Holy heck, Mikey!”
She stepped back so she could see his face. “I haven’t seen you in… Jesus, how long has it been?”
His lips quirked as he scrutinized her. “A long time. Years and years.”
“Not since you moved to—where was it? New Jersey?”
“Connecticut.”
“Right! This is so nuts.” She slapped his arm, and then hugged him again.
“How are you?” he asked, his eyes delving into her.
She sighed into her smile, recalling the profound feeling of a friendship so deep it could be called family. Emotion moved within her as she processed this face out of her past.
“Wow! I just—it’s just so good to see you. We should have kept in touch.”
“We were fourteen—well, I was fourteen. You were, what, twelve when I left?”
“Eleven,” she said. “Still, I don’t know. You were like my brother. I missed you. I can’t believe you’re here! What a crazy coincidence.”
“Sara, we should go…” Christie was staring after two larger women moving off toward the house.
Mikey followed her gaze and nodded. “Christie’s right. Ethel and Florence won’t treat you well if you’re late.” His eyes once again settled on her face. “I’ll catch up with you at the fire pit. We’re staying in the area tonight, so I’ll be around.”
He took a step back to let her go.
“Wait!” She lurched forward, clutching his arm. The memory of him, of their youth, tugged at her. Made her want to attach herself to him like she used to.
“I mean, obviously, yes. I need to go. But…” Sara shook her head, embarrassment creeping up at her actions. “I mean…”
He gave her a small smile. “I’ll see you tonight, okay?” He smoothed her hair from her face. “I’m not leaving forever—never was, remember? I told you I’d see you again. And look, here I am. Magical.”
Sara blurted out a laugh.
“I love reunions, I really do,” Christie muttered, “but seriously, Sara, the cooking twins are evil if you keep them waiting.”
Sara nodded, her childhood memories floating around her, fitting the image of the awkward, pudgy boy over that of this poised, self-assured man. He was so different. So large and in charge. Grown up. But the center of him, the squishy middle, was still that little boy who loved to laugh and chase her around with slugs, she could tell. She could feel that remembered closeness, just like back in the day.
“Okay, well—God, it’s… I’m blown away. It is so good to see you, Mikey. Of all the joints in all the dirty, tree-covered areas, you had to walk into mine.” She grinned at him with a hand on his forearm.
His mouth threatened a shy smile. He made like he was tipping an imaginary hat. “I’ll see you in a while.”
“Sa—ra,” Christie groaned, bouncing impatiently.
A glance at Christie had his smile beaming brighter. With a wink at Sara, he turned and made his way back into the barn with purposeful, powerful strides.
Mikey was the youngest of four boys—he’d always half slouched in his youth, waiting for one of his brothers to jump out of a hiding place and pounce on him. This man, though—the man walking into the barn—was no longer afraid of the shadows. By the look of it, he wasn’t afraid of anything at all, disappearing through the doorway with straight, broad shoulders squared to the world.
Mikey had always been a bar of gold, but even still, he’d changed for the better. Taken his gold and wrought it into a fine piece of jewelry, expensive and coveted.
At least one of them had.
“I feel like the deadbeat loser at my high-school reunion,” she muttered to Christie as they made their way to the ranch house. “He’s all handsome and grown up, on top of the world, and I’m working a college-level job primarily staffed with younger twenty-somethings. Oh yeah, and without a place to live when I finish up, or a backup career, or a man…”
Christie bumped her shoulder playfully. “That guy is a shining star. Don’t go trying to compete on his level. I mean, look at me. I’m in college, yes. But I’m not any good at it. In fact, I flunked a class last semester and have to take it over. I didn’t even bother signing up for the upcoming semester. My roommates rented my room out to someone else, so I’ll have to go live with the parents for a while. And, oh yeah, I always seem to go for creeps or unattainable rock stars. I’m not batting a thousand over here.”
“But you’re young and pretty…”
“And a train wreck. Hot mess rings a bell. I showed up to a morning class after partying all night once. Still had my party dress on. Got a date. I bet you can imagine how that turned out. Train. Wreck. You’re looking just fine from where I’m standin’.”
“That’s comforting,” Sara murmured with a smile.
Christie shrugged. “Okay, now that the crisis of self-worth is over, I cannot believe you know Mike Frost. Cannot believe it. From childhood!” Christie skipped over a log. “I am in awe.”
“I can’t believe he’s here. How random is that? I haven’t seen the guy in a couple decades. Crazy.”
“Well, you have to get chummy so I can hit that.”
“Didn’t you say he was on another level, and that you go for unattainable men…?”
“I have a short attention span. What?”
Sara laughed and shook her head. “Man. He just… He’s all confident and awesome, and I’m still a pile of… me. I’m happy for
him—don’t roll your eyes. He was like my brother; I want the best for him. But still, yeah, I’ve failed at life so far. I’ll have to punch him for silently pointing it out.”
“Well, I’m failing at life. As we speak. And guess what, you’re still super cool, and so am I. So if I turn out like you, I think I’m doing okay. But you keep saying brother. Does that mean you’re going to hook me up, or what?”
Sara rolled her eyes and shoved a goofy-grinning Christie. “Since when do people set their friends up with siblings?”
“But he’s not really your sibling…” Christie’s eyebrows waggled suggestively.
“When we were kids, the guy slept in my bed half the week until he started puberty. He would’ve kept on, but my mom put her foot down.”
“Why? Did he cop a feel, the dirty dog?”
Sara laughed and waved her hand at the thought. “Tried to shove me over to get more room, more like. No, she probably saw the winds changing and wanted to head it off. He had a crush on me at that point.” Sara couldn’t help but think back on it with fondness. “I was still a couple years away from those kinds of feelings, I think. At eleven, when he left, I was just starting to get interested in all that. I mean, like… you know… curious.”
“Yes, Aunt Gertrude, I know about the birds and the bees. I get it. Girls mature faster than boys, too. You were probably a year away from playing doctor.”
“We did that at, like, six. His was the first penis I ever saw. I literally pointed and laughed. I thought it was weird. He got so pissed off he stormed out of the house to make sure he had the same equipment his brothers did.”
“No. I mean the naughtier kind.”
“Okay, this conversation is going downhill. Anyway, he probably counts his lucky stars he got out before the train wreck lost its brakes and took out a station.”
“Hey, that’s my analogy!”
“It fit. C’mon, let’s go brave the jerk twins.”
Christie opened the door and olé’ed Sara through. “We need to work on your swearing. Jackass twins sounds better.”
“Trucker.”
“Saint.”
Sara crinkled her nose as they entered the house. “How is that a bad thing?”
“Except from eventually being burned at the stake, you mean? Good point. Saints were women behaving badly. I take that one back. Anyway, I definitely think God is bending down a helping hand on this one. You already know the hottest triangle man in this whole outfit, with the best skills no less, and are roomies with the biggest bitch. I’ll sort you out and he’ll be great to lean on. Things are looking up.”
Sara couldn’t help but laugh as they entered the kitchen and reached for aprons.
* * *
“Mawch!” The little girl put her fists on her hips as she studied a boy a few years older. “Mawch!”
The little boy mimicked her. His eyes dropped to her feet, stomping up and down where she stood.
“Like dis.” She trudged off in front of him, stern and commanding. After a few steps, she glanced back to check his progress.
“What are they doing?” the little boy’s mom, Pam, asked, an enchanted smile on her face as she watched her son following the little girl’s lead.
“Marching.” Denise chuckled. “Sara learned it in preschool. All the kids line up to go outside, with their hands on their hips, and march together.”
“Wow, kind of uniform, huh?”
Sara’s mom nodded as Sara’s fuzzy head of loose curls bent toward her playmate, adjusting his hands just so. “Organized and disciplined, but with plenty of praise. She’s doing really well there.”
“How old is she now?”
“Two and a half. Young for preschool, but it’s cheaper than daycare. Seems great, too. She really loves it. How old’s Mikey?” Denise sipped her glass of wine, noticing the little boy’s studious gaze as he worked to get the march down.
“’Kay. Mawch!” Sara nodded in command, leading the way across the living room with a stern face. Mikey followed immediately, just as serious.
“Five. Almost six. And still doing whatever she tells him.”
Both of the women laughed as Mikey trudged right behind Sara, mimicking the march perfectly.
“He has a school full of kids his own age, and still he’d rather follow along after a girl half his age.” Pam shook her head. “Young love.”
Both the women started laughing again as they settled further into the couch to change topics.
Chapter 3
Sara had never been yelled at so often in her life. And with such loud, throaty voices.
The meal consisted of roast beef, mashed potatoes, peas, and gravy. Each cook—not chef, because these ladies thought a culinary degree was an awful waste of time—had a way of doing things. Since Sara was the only new person, and since neither cook thought it necessary to explain their methods, Sara did everything wrong at least once before she learned her lesson.
How did she learn her lesson? From shrill screaming and sometimes flying objects. Getting hit with a spatula was a strong deterrent to repeating a mistake, no matter how logical. Shame on her for deciding to cover the pot of gravy so it didn’t get cold.
Christie thought the whole thing was hilarious. Apparently she’d learned the same way.
After everything had been carried out to a large table off to the side of the fire pit, a horn sounded.
“Yes, that’s how they announce it’s time to eat. By a cattle call.” Christie rolled her eyes exaggeratedly as she filed in line, grabbing Sara by the arm and dragging her behind. “C’mon, you gotta get in first or else the guys take all the good stuff. They eat like animals.”
“We’re boys, we have big appetites.”
Sara’s stomach flip-flopped. A glance told her it was who she expected—Sam.
“Hi,” he said, holding her gaze.
The breath left her chest in a whoosh, ruffling his hair.
His smile grew. “You might grab something, or the triangle boys will show up and cut in front. They don’t like waiting.”
Sara noticed Christie was already halfway down the table, delicately picking out the best cut of roast beef. Sara jerked to a start, grabbed a paper plate, and scooped up a heap of mashed potatoes.
“Atta girl, show us boys what eating really is!” Sam laughed, taking the spoon from her. His fingers brushed hers. Warm tingles worked up her spine.
A jolt of insecurity had Sara scurrying down the line, grabbing food items willy-nilly. Plate mounded with calories, she chose a seat next to Christie and took a big breath. “I am not going to run from Sam just because I have no idea what I am doing. Flirting is fine, even if he is young. I need to practice.” She nodded decisively and stabbed at her mashed potatoes.
“Good for you!” Christie put her fork down so she could clap. “Besides, he’s really sweet! I was totally into him last year until I found out he had a girl. He’s a good choice. Just let me know when to be out of the room.”
Sara nearly choked on her beef. “Goodness, I’m going to give him the time of day, not go buy a pole and give him a show. Give me a little credit.”
Christie flashed an evil smile. “Just sayin’. When shopping turns to buying, just let me know.”
The girls broke down in a fit of giggles as Sam joined them, sitting down cross-legged on the ground facing them. “What’d I miss?”
They giggled harder. Sara felt like she was five years younger, her maturity dropping to match that of Christie. She wasn’t complaining. It felt good to laugh.
“So you’re working for Jake, huh?” Sam asked after the twittering had stopped.
Sara looked up as the triangle boys sauntered into the clearing, eyeing the line waiting for food. She spied Mikey in the back, his gaze doing a sweep of those gathered before finding her. His lips quirked, and he acknowledged her with a nod.
Her heart jumped. She wanted to get up and go kick him. Or sass him. Or any number of things she used to do. When Mikey was around, she wa
s glued to his side. That’s just how it was.
“You after Mountain Man Mike like all the other girls, huh?” Sam said, interrupting her thoughts.
“She’s known him since they were kids,” Christie said with a full mouth. “He’s like a brother to her. But me? Yeah, I’m all over that, and I’ve got an in!”
Sam smiled. “Wow, really? You know him? That’s cool! Why didn’t you say so?”
Sara swallowed down her beef. “I didn’t know he was here. It was a huge shock, actually. Awesome, though. Like getting a piece of my childhood back. He used to be my knight in shining armor. Whenever I got picked on, he would always come to the rescue. I only got bullied once in each school year as a new bully tried his luck, and that only lasted long enough for him to come and scare the bully away.”
“She was my knight, too.” The deep baritone permeated their group as Mikey strolled up with a lazy glide.
When had he become so sure of himself? So comfortable in his own skin?
He smiled down at her. “She tried to fight off my brothers whenever they picked on me.”
Sara started laughing, yanking on his pants so he’d sit next to her. “It worked some of the time. They were such jerks.”
“Jackasses.” Christie glanced at Sam and then Mikey. “We are working on Sara’s adult words.”
“And by adult, do you mean an adult trucker? Like you?” Sam raised his eyebrows inquisitively.
“My brothers weren’t used to anyone biting,” Mikey said. “We always got in trouble when we bit, but Sara, being a girl, had no rules.” He buttered his bread roll. “I had three older brothers. As the runt, the only time I didn’t get picked on was if my oldest brother came to my aid. When I got old enough to fight back, I was still smaller than everyone else. It was rough. But I always had my little alley cat to fight on my side.”
His full lips turned upward into a perfectly symmetrical smile. He must’ve gotten braces, because his teeth were straight and white, boosting the hotness factor. If Sara didn’t love him so much, she’d hope he’d stumble into a ditch and fall on his face. Just something to knock him down a peg or two. Put them on the same level for, oh, a moment.
