Deadly Storm

by Lily Harper Hart

  “I am happy with takeout,” James said. “I love takeout. I love not having to make a mess to cook anything, and I love not having to clean anything up. I love leftovers. I like choices. Takeout is the best thing ever invented.”

  “I thought you said that about Mandy’s garter belts?”

  “Whoever invented those was a genius,” James conceded.

  “I’m still waiting for you to explain how this happened,” Grady said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

  “I made some crack about knowing she didn’t cook dinner and she took it and ran with it,” James said. “I think I should just start walking around with a gag on.”

  “She does have a way of working things up in her mind,” Grady conceded. “Ally is worse, though.”

  Ally Hardy, the youngest Hardy sibling, was currently embroiled in romantic euphoria since her boyfriend – and Hardy Brothers Security employee – Jake Harrison moved in several weeks before. Her brothers had barely seen her since she started cohabitating with Jake. The only reason James knew Ally was still alive was because she was in constant contact with her best friend, who just happened to be James’ wife.

  “I would take Ally’s particular brand of overreacting to … this … right now,” James admitted. “I don’t like it when she gets this way.”

  “I think you don’t like that she’s going to be busy at class when she could be getting busy with you,” Grady countered.

  James growled. “It’s not just that … .”

  “You two are joined at the groin,” Grady said. “It’s okay. You’re not doing anything wrong. You love your wife. It’s kind of sweet.”

  “I don’t know why she has to do stuff like this,” James said. “She already has the art class. This one is only six weeks, but it’s twice a week. That means she’s going to be busy three nights a week. I don’t care if she ever cooks. I just want her … with me.”

  “Aw, big brother is sad.” Grady made an exaggerated pouty face.

  “Big brother is sad,” James agreed.

  “Why doesn’t she just quit her job at the courthouse?” Grady suggested. “You don’t like her being there because of all the criminals, and that would free up her days to take whatever classes she wants and still have her nights free to do … well, you.”

  James scorched Grady with a glare. “We’re not animals.”

  “If that’s your story … .”

  “I’ve suggested she quit her job at the courthouse so many times I’ve lost count,” James said. “I would definitely feel better if she wasn’t there – especially since trouble keeps finding her in that … hole. She won’t stand for it. She says she won’t quit until she’s making enough money with her art to replace her salary at the courthouse.”

  “How long do you think that will be?”

  “I love Mandy,” James said, glancing at the door to make sure someone wasn’t eavesdropping. “I love her more than anything.”

  “I know you do,” Grady said. “What are you doing?”

  “I don’t think she can paint,” James admitted. “I … it all looks like blobs to me. She says nothing is finished, but it doesn’t look like art to me.”

  Grady pressed his lips together to keep from laughing. “Don’t ever tell her that.”

  “Of course not,” James said. “I would buy every painting myself if I thought that would make her happy. She’s just … weird about money.”

  “Is this the shopping thing again?”

  James nodded. “I made a stupid joke about her shopping, and then she felt guilty because she doesn’t feel like she brings enough money home,” he said. “I don’t care how much money she spends. She’s insisting on paying for the cooking class herself. I just know this is going to turn into a nightmare.”

  “Don’t let it,” Grady said. “Act like you’re okay with it. If she wants you to taste stuff, then do it. Tell her it’s wonderful, even if you want to puke. She’ll get it out of her system in a few weeks. You could use a diet anyway.”

  “I’m going to kill you,” James warned.

  “You would be sad without me,” Grady said, sticking his tongue out. He turned sober. “She’ll be back to normal in two weeks, mark my words. We both know she doesn’t want to cook. In two weeks you’ll be laughing about this and she’ll move on to the next thing she’s obsessed with doing.”

  James could only hope he was right.

  “THANK YOU so much,” Mandy said, smiling brightly at the woman in the registrar’s office and shoving her wallet into her purse.

  She was officially registered for Professor Ben Barnes’ cooking class, and if the brochure was to be believed, he was a world-class chef. Since it was community college, Mandy wasn’t so sure his reputation wasn’t exaggerated, but anything was better than her current skill level. She was determined to make James a romantic dinner with her own two hands.

  “Are you a transfer?”

  Mandy lifted her head, smiling at the man who was standing a few feet away watching her. “I’m just taking a cooking class. I’m not a full-time student.”

  “That’s too bad. You would definitely brighten the campus up.”

  While Mandy didn’t consider herself a knockout – especially when there was an actual model in the family – she was used to men hitting on her. Since she’d started wearing a wedding ring, a lot of the attention had dwindled, but a ring didn’t dissuade everyone. “Thank you.”

  Mandy kept her smile in place as she moved to shuffle out of the office. She was surprised to find the man following her a few moments later. She took the opportunity to study him. He was in his twenties – a few years younger than her, if she had to guess – and he was attractive. His hair was dark, like his eyes, but his smile was ready and friendly. “Did you need something?”

  “No,” the man said. “I just … you’re really pretty.”

  “Thank you.” Mandy was starting to feel uncomfortable with his studied attention. “I … um … should get going. I need to get home.”

  “Wait … would you, I don’t know, like to have coffee with me?”

  “Oh, that’s a sweet offer,” Mandy said. “Do you think my husband can come?”

  The man’s face fell. “You’re married?”

  Mandy held up her hand for confirmation, displaying her wedding ring. “I really do appreciate the offer. I am married, though.”

  “Happily?”

  Now Mandy was starting to get annoyed. “Very happily.”

  The man shrugged. “Hey, you can’t blame a guy for trying. Have a good rest of your day.”

  “Thanks,” Mandy said, shoving the man out of her mind before she even left the lobby. “You, too.”

  “WAIT, Mandy is taking a cooking class?” Finn Hardy bent over at the waist and let out a hearty guffaw. “I can’t wait to see how this blows up in her face – and I’m literally worried she’ll blow something up.”

  James scowled. “Don’t make fun of my wife.”

  “I’m not making fun of her,” Finn said. “I just … trouble seems to find her. Aren’t you worried what will happen when she’s around a gas stove for too long?”

  James would never admit it, but he was definitely worried she would accidentally start something on fire. “She’s good at whatever she does.”

  “You just said … .” Grady started to talk, but James shushed him with a look. “She’s great at everything she does,” he said, correcting course. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “You were thinking of saying something that could hurt my wife very much if it ever got back to her,” James snapped.

  “I’m sorry,” Grady said, holding up a hand. “You’re right.”

  “What are you two talking about?” Finn asked, curious. As the youngest Hardy male, he often felt left out of the loop where his brothers were concerned. James and Grady were best friends as well as brothers. Finn was closer in age with Ally, and their relationship reflected that closeness.

&nbs
p; “Nothing,” James said. “It doesn’t matter.”

  Finn turned to Grady expectantly.

  “No, it’s definitely nothing,” Grady said, feeling momentarily embarrassed. It was one thing to mess with his brother. It was quite another to tell a secret that could devastate a member of his family. “I’m just being … me.”

  Finn decided to let it go and turned back to James. “We’re still having a barbecue at your place today, right?”

  “We are,” James said. “That reminds me, I need to stop at the store on my way home. Are there any special requests for the pregnant one?”

  Finn’s fiancée, Emma, was almost four months into a pregnancy that spent equal time playing with her emotions and making her eat like a fiend. Since she was a vegetarian, her cravings were hard to get ahead of.

  “Can you make sure you have pickles … and shrimp … and ice cream?”

  James made a face. “She’s not going to eat all of that together, is she?”

  “No,” Finn said. “Well … maybe the pickles and shrimp.”

  “Is she still eating shrimp? I thought she didn’t want to because it was technically meat,” Grady said.

  “She’ll eat shrimp because it doesn’t have a nervous system,” Finn said. “Her doctor says she needs more protein. She really liked the crawfish when we were in New Orleans. She was okay eating that because she convinced herself she was eating bugs. I wish we could find that up here.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” James said. “Although, if we do get it, I have no idea how to cook it.”

  “I think you can just wrap them up in tin foil, throw some butter in there, and roast them,” Grady said.

  James and Finn shot him twin looks of surprise.

  “Hey, Sophie doesn’t cook,” Grady said, referring to his live-in girlfriend. “If I want to eat, I have to cook.”

  “Maybe you should go to the cooking class with Mandy,” Finn suggested.

  “Or maybe Mandy should just take a page out of Sophie’s book and not try to cook,” Grady suggested. “My girl knows she doesn’t want to cook, and there’s nothing in this world that’s going to make her try.”

  “Don’t make a big deal about this cooking class,” James warned, getting to his feet and wagging a finger at his brothers. “She’s worked up enough. If you guys make a big deal out of it, things are going to get worse before they get better.”

  “Yes, sir,” Grady said, mock saluting.

  “If you do that again I’m going to grill you on the barbecue,” James warned, heading toward the door. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours. Remember, not one word about the cooking class.”

  Three

  “So, Mandy, I hear you’re taking a cooking class.”

  James shot Grady a disgusted look from across the patio as he prepared the steaks for the grill. For his part, Grady had the grace to look abashed. He hadn’t asked the question, but it was his girlfriend who was calling attention to the one thing James wanted to be ignored.

  Mandy smiled evenly at Sophie Lane, seemingly unbothered. “I am. I registered today.”

  “Why are you taking a cooking class?” Ally asked, moving around Jake’s chair and planting herself on his lap. He kissed her cheek softly and snuggled her close, earning a pronounced eye roll from James. “I could teach you how to cook.”

  “You can’t cook,” Grady scoffed.

  “I can so cook,” Ally said. “I cook for Jake all the time. Tell them.”

  “My angel is a master chef,” Jake replied, smiling indulgently. “She can cook anything she wants.”

  “You’re just saying that because you two are all lovey-dovey since you moved in together,” Grady said. “That’s how it always is when you first start cohabitating. The bloom will fall off the rose before long. Trust me.”

  Sophie scowled at Grady. “Excuse me?”

  “For everyone but us, sugar,” Grady said, winking. “Our bloom is always … in bloom.”

  “Nice save,” Finn said, grinning as he rubbed Emma’s back. She was sitting on the lounge chair in front of him, and even though she was barely showing, she was convinced her ankles were fat. Anyone who passed by had to look at them.

  “Ally actually can cook,” Jake said. “Pasta is her specialty, but she made these little chicken things with roasted potatoes the other night and it was amazing.”

  “They were Cornish hens,” Ally corrected, tucking her flyaway brown hair behind her ear. “I found the recipe on the Internet.” She turned to Mandy. “You know you don’t need to take a class, right? Just find a recipe you like and follow the instructions. They’re idiot proof.”

  “Leave her alone,” James instructed. “If she wants to take a cooking class, she can take a cooking class.”

  Grady flipped his thumbs up to encourage James, who was still angry, if his furrowed brow was to be believed. “I need to go help James grill,” Grady said, rubbing Sophie’s knee briefly and then getting up.

  “What are you helping him with?” Sophie asked.

  “Did you get the crawfish?” Grady asked hopefully. If he could cook something, James might thaw by the end of dinner.

  “I did,” James said. “They’re in the refrigerator. Why don’t you get them ready?”

  “That’s just what I was going to suggest.”

  “I can help,” Mandy offered, shifting her attention to James.

  “I’ve got it,” he said. “Grady wants to do the crawfish. I’m pretty sure he’s going to demand to do them.”

  “I am,” Grady said, resigned. “I can’t wait to do the crawfish.”

  Ally leaned over so she could whisper. “What’s going on?”

  “I think James is mad because he was complaining about me taking the cooking class this afternoon and then he warned Grady not to bring it up,” Mandy replied, nonplussed. “Grady is in trouble for telling Sophie.”

  “I didn’t realize it was a secret,” Sophie said. “I wouldn’t have brought it up if I knew it was a sore subject.”

  “It’s not a sore subject,” Mandy said. “James is just … being James.”

  “He doesn’t want you to be away from him,” Ally said. “You know he doesn’t care about takeout, right? He’d be perfectly happy with you, rampant nudity, and pizza for the rest of his life.”

  “I care,” Mandy said, tamping down her irritation. “I care. I should be able to cook for my husband.”

  Ally scrunched up her face. “Why? Your husband wants you to love him. I don’t remember hearing anything about cooking in the vows you exchanged.”

  “Just … leave it alone,” Mandy said, getting to her feet.

  “Where are you going?” Ally asked, confused.

  “I need a drink,” Mandy said, refusing to meet her friend’s gaze and moving toward the house. “Come on, Grady. I’ll help you with the crawfish.”

  Grady followed her wordlessly. James was still watching his wife’s back when the door shut. He was officially worried.

  “DO you want to tell me what’s going on?” Grady asked, opening the seafood package and dumping the crawfish into a colander so he could wash them. “You seem … quiet.”

  Mandy avoided his probing gaze. “I’m fine.”

  “I’ve known you for most of your life, kid,” Grady said. “I can tell when something is bothering you.”

  “Why are you doing that?”

  Grady balked. “I was just trying to find out what was wrong with you.”

  “Not that,” Mandy said. “That.” She pointed toward the sink. “Why are you washing them off?”

  “Because it’s seafood and that’s what you should do with seafood … and fruit … and vegetables, for that matter,” Grady said, arching an eyebrow. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

  “That’s what is going on,” Mandy said. “I didn’t even know that you should wash seafood. James deserves one stinking meal that doesn’t come from a delivery boy.”

  “James doesn’t care about takeout, Mandy,” Grady said,
frustration bubbling. “He honestly doesn’t. You might be deluding yourself that he does, but he simply doesn’t care. I think you’re tying yourself up into knots for nothing.”

  “Who said I’m tying myself into knots?”

  “I … no one,” Grady said, forcing himself to remain calm even though he wanted to shake her. “You tend to get these ideas, though. You convince yourself of things that just aren’t true.”

  “I do not.”

  “How about when you convinced yourself that James was going to break up with you after the explosion?”

  “That was an accident.”

  “He had a ring hidden in his sock drawer and was trying to find the perfect time to propose and you thought he wanted to dump you,” Grady said.

  “Fine. I overreacted. That’s not what I’m doing here, though. I want to be able to cook a meal for my husband. Is that too much to ask?”

  “No,” Grady said. “I just … you’re doing this for yourself, right? You don’t need to prove yourself to James. He loves you the way you are.”

  “Of course I’m doing it for myself,” Mandy said. “This is something I want to do. Get a grip. It’s a cooking class. I’m not joining the Army.”

  Grady held up his hands. “Okay. I’m sorry. Do you want to help me wrap these guys up in tinfoil and put some butter on them?”

  Mandy shook her head. “I don’t like butter. It’s greasy.”

  Grady ran his tongue over his teeth, fighting the urge to tell her that butter was probably going to be an ingredient in cooking class. This whole endeavor had “disaster” written all over it.

  JAMES glanced down, surprised when Mandy’s arms snaked around his waist and she rested her head against his back. “What’s wrong, baby?”

  “I just wanted to hug you,” Mandy said.

  James rubbed his fingers over her hands. “Did you and Grady fight?”

  “No. He thinks I’m stupid for taking the class, but we didn’t fight.”

  That’s not how it sounded to James. “Mandy, you don’t need his approval.”

  “I didn’t say I did.”

  James grabbed Mandy’s hand and dragged her around so she was in front of him. He kept one arm around her waist as he used the other to turn the steaks. “See, you’re already cooking.”