by Meg Maxwell
“Look,” he said, giving in or up or whatever. “If you’ve been around my family for more than thirty seconds you know they can be a mite...overwhelming en masse.”
Another laugh. “I noticed.”
“So if I’d called my brother and told him I was coming, you can bet your life the whole gang would be at the Vista to welcome me home.” His jaw clenched. “Maybe even the whole town. I know what I’m about to face, believe me. But I’d at least prefer to ease back into the bosom of the clan on my own terms. At least as much as possible.”
“I can understand that.”
“Really?”
“Like you’re the only person in the world who has issues with their family?” she said quietly, not looking at him. “Please.”
The sign for Whispering Pines flashed in the headlights, and Colin turned off the highway onto the smaller road leading to the tiny town. Emily shrugged more deeply into her coat; the higher they climbed, the colder the night got. But the air was sweet and clear and clean. And, Colin had to admit, welcoming.
“It’s the space, isn’t it?” she said, shattering his thoughts.
“Excuse me?”
“Why you’ve come home. Same reason I’m here now, I suppose. To stop the—” She waved her hands at her head, then folded her arms again. “The noise. The crowding.”
The impulse to probe nudged more insistently. He’d assumed she was only there to visit, like people did. Normal people, anyway. Or to attend Zach’s wedding, although that wasn’t for weeks yet. Now, though, questions niggled. Maybe there was more...?
And whatever that might be had nothing to do with him.
“Hadn’t really thought about it,” he muttered, ignoring what had to be a doubtful look in response. Shaking her head, Emily dug her phone out of her purse, only to heave a sigh and slug it back inside.
“No signal. Jeez, how do people even survive out here?”
“Same way they have for hundreds of years, I imagine.”
A soft grunt was her only reply. Thank God. Although Colin had to admit, as wearying as her poking and prying had been, the silence was far worse, providing a far-too-fertile breeding ground for his own twisted-up thoughts. Because despite the universe’s insistence that this is where he needed to be right now, he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit this felt an awful lot like starting over.
Or worse, failure.
A dog’s barking as they pulled into the Vista’s circular driveway shattered the silence, although Colin barely heard it over his pounding heart, the rush of blood between his ears. Beside him, Emily gathered her giant purse, then gave him what he suspected was a pitying look before grabbing the door’s handle.
“I don’t envy you right now,” she murmured, then shoved open the door and got out. By now her cousin and his brother were out on the oversize veranda. Even in the screwy light he could see confusion shudder across both their faces.
“You’ll never guess who I ran into in the airport,” she said, and Colin realized he had two choices: show himself, or turn right around and pretend this had all been a mistake. Except the flaw with plan B was that, for one thing, Emily’s luggage was still in the SUV. And for another, she’d rat on him.
So, on a weighty sigh, Colin pried himself from behind the wheel and faced his little brother, who immediately spit out a cussword that would’ve gotten a good smack upside the head from their mother. Two seconds later, Josh was pounding the hell out of Colin’s back, then grinning up at him like a damn fool.
“Holy hell, Col,” he said, his eyes wet, and Colin did his best to grin back.
“I know, right?” he said, feeling heat flood his cheeks before he glanced over to see Emily wrapped tightly in his new sister-in-law’s arms, bawling her eyes out.
Copyright © 2017 by Karen Templeton-Berger
ISBN-13: 9781488014024
The Cook’s Secret Ingredient
Copyright © 2017 by Meg Maxwell
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