by Judi Lynn
Brody glowered down at her. “Looks like Tessa was right and you got lost in your writing world. She phoned and asked me to check on you.”
He made it sound like an accusation. She shrugged. “It’s what I do. I don’t usually stop until my stomach growls. I’m not used to a schedule.”
“But you do try to be considerate of friends and hostesses?”
This guy could be a real dick. She crossed her arms. “I had my phone alarm set for five forty.”
She barely got the words out when the alarm went off. “Oh, baby, baby, my baby, baby” sang through the room.
Brody raised his eyebrows. “Whatever gets your attention.”
She ground her teeth, then frowned at him. “You cleaned up.” He still wore his worn, comfortable jeans, but he’d changed into a button-down shirt and sweater. He’d be yummy if he weren’t such a sourpuss.
He looked her up and down. “I guess I didn’t need to bother.” She hadn’t changed out of her driving clothes—faded jeans with a few rips in the right thigh area and a baggy sweater. Her hair was still pulled back in a low ponytail.
“I didn’t know gumbo meant a formal dinner.” She yanked at the scrunchie that held her hair, letting loose waves cascade past her shoulders.
Brody stared, then shook his head. “No matter. Shall we? It’s time to go.” In the lobby, he waited for her to shrug into her winter coat and then walked with her to his SUV. She wasn’t short, but the step-up to get into the passenger seat was more exertion than she was used to. He gave a grim smile, enjoying her effort. He’d be surprised to know how much she walked back home. She was in good shape, whether he thought so or not, damn the man!
When she fastened her seat belt, he shut the door and circled the vehicle to slide behind the steering wheel. On the drive to Tessa’s, she mentally calculated how much time they’d have to spend together. Not all that much. Her stay here looked better.
Harmony grinned from ear to ear when they pulled into the driveway. The wide bungalow was as charming as she’d pictured it. White, with green shutters and flower boxes, it looked warm and welcoming. She reached for the door handle, but Brody shook his head. What now? He walked around the SUV to open her door for her. She stared at him. “Are you for real?”
“I am, but I think you’ve lived with vampires and werewolves too long to remember some of the social norms.”
“No one opens doors for women anymore.”
Brody shrugged. “They should.”
A thick layer of snow blanketed the yard and the house’s roof. It looked like something on a Christmas card—inviting and cozy, especially since the sidewalks were cleared. Harmony hurried up the path.
Tessa threw open the front door before they reached it and pulled Harmony inside. “I can’t believe you came. I’m stuck on a scene in chapter eleven. Where are you in your book?”
Ian rolled his eyes and waited for his brother to join them. “Tessa promised not to talk writing while we eat.”
Brody smiled. “I’m sure she keeps her promises, just like Harmony claims she does.”
“I heard that!” On her way to the kitchen, Harmony threw him a dirty glance.
Ian grinned. “You got in trouble.”
“Yeah, I’m worried now.” Brody hung his pea coat on the coat tree by the front door, carefully wiped his feet on the welcome mat, then trailed behind them. He sniffed as he went. “Mmm, something smells good.”
Harmony twirled in a happy circle in the kitchen. “I can’t believe you remembered. We ate this together in New Orleans when we skipped out for a few hours between panels.”
Tessa pointed to the oven. “Do you remember what we had for dessert?”
“You didn’t!”
Tessa opened the oven door a crack. “Bread pudding with whiskey sauce.”
Harmony hugged herself.
Brody shook his head. “For being thin, both of these women really love food.”
“And you don’t?” Ian opened the refrigerator to grab a bottle of wine and two bottles of beer.
Brody accepted one. “That’s Mom’s fault. She cooked a meal every night, and every meal came with dessert.”
“Then this will feel just like home.” Ian motioned for him to help carry heavy pots to the round, cherry wood table. Trivets waited for them. Tessa sat across from Ian, Brody across from Harmony. Oh, good, Brody could watch her eat. When they were all seated, they dug in.
Tessa’s bungalow lived up to everything Harmony expected. White cupboards lined three walls. Granite countertops provided plenty of workspace, and the oak floors looked worn and homey.
Ian pointed his spoon at Brody. “Fill me in on what everyone’s up to at home.”
Brody told him about their parents and sisters. “Maeve’s youngest boy—”
Ian interrupted. “How old is Connor?”
“Four now, he broke his arm after Christmas. Got a sled from Santa and went down the wrong hill.”
Tessa winced. “Is he all right?” She glanced at Harmony. Harmony had broken her arm as a kid when her brother pushed her off their backyard swing set.
“Kids heal fast, but he hates his cast. Itches. It’s a good thing Maeve can work on her bookkeeping from home.”
“And Bridget?” Ian glanced at Tessa’s copper hair. “My sister’s the woman who gave redheads a bad name. What a temper!”
“She’s fine. Likes her students this year. No one’s blown up the chemistry lab yet.” Brody paused for a second. Voice low, he said, “Cecily remarried on New Year’s Day.”
Ian fumbled his fork. “The bitch talked another man into marrying her?”
Harmony felt her eyes go wide. She wasn’t good at hiding her feelings. Tessa turned to her and whispered, “Brody’s ex. Ugly divorce.”
Harmony had wondered. He looked to be about forty and didn’t wear a ring. Either he’d always been a woman-hater or he’d recently become one.
Tessa reached over to touch Brody’s hand. “I’m sorry. That had to be hard for you.”
He grunted. “Not really. They’ll probably make it to happy-ever-after. She married someone a lot older with loads of money. I’ve heard he loves to dote on her.”
“Everything on her bucket list,” Ian said.
Harmony asked, “Is she a blonde?” The man certainly had a low opinion of them. Maybe Cecily was the reason.
Ian answered. “No, a ball-buster brunette.” He obviously didn’t like Brody’s ex.
Harmony raised her hands in defeat. “I guess females in general don’t cut it. Blondes are bubbleheads, brunettes bust balls, and redheads have fiery tempers. Brody likes Tessa, though. So maybe a girl has to have copper hair to pass inspection.”
Brody quirked an eyebrow. “Why? Are you interested in giving it a go?”
“Me? No, just asking out of curiosity.”
Brody focused on her. “Have you been married? In a serious relationship?”
Those smoky-gray eyes made her squirm. “Not my thing. I get distracted too easily.”
“No heartbreak in your past?” he persisted.
Tessa glanced her way. She looked uncomfortable. “She wouldn’t allow that.”
“None at all?” Brody sounded surprised.
Harmony shrugged. “A drummer once stole a carton of cigarettes from me when he left before breakfast, but that was good. I meant to give up smoking anyway.”
His lips curled in a half-smile. “So you’ve stayed single out of convenience, and I’m single because I got screwed over.”
Convenience? Hardly. More like self-preservation. When you let someone touch your heart, they had the power to control you. “Looks that way.” Harmony scooped up a forkful of rice, but he wasn’t finished.
“Do you want to find someone someday?”
She shook her head. It was safer to keep people at a distance. Except Tessa. Writing had drawn them together. “I’m happy doing what I do. Why complicate it?” He’d made her curious, though. She couldn’t help it. She’d always
been nosey, even before she started writing. “You?” she asked.
He nodded. “I want someone who’s smart, funny, loves to cook, loves to entertain, and wants to have children.”
“That’s why you bugged me about my promise to Aiden.” The words popped out before she could stop them. When would she learn to be more discreet, to let conversations die that were getting uncomfortable?
“I wanted to have kids. Cecily didn’t. She said she did, but she kept putting it off.”
Smart Cecily. “Kids aren’t for me. They’re even more bother than a man.”
Ian laughed. “Do you have a pet? Anything?”
“I feed pigeons on my window ledge every morning after breakfast.”
Brody stared. “And that’s enough for you?”
What did he want from her? She could make up a story. She was good at that. She could tell him that she baked cookies to take to the homeless every weekend and that she rescued strays off the street. But she didn’t need to impress him, so she might as well be honest. “When I’m lonely, I meet up with friends or go to a bar and sit on a stool next to someone. It works for me.”
“One night stands?”
Ian shook his head. “Brody . . .”
But Harmony didn’t mind. Her life wasn’t all that exciting. He’d yawn before long. “No, I only need lust when I finish writing a book. Sort of a celebration.”
He shook his head, frustrated. “I’ve never met a woman like you.”
“Consider that a blessing.” But fair was fair. She told hers. He should tell his. She asked again, “You?”
He grimaced. He was more private than she was, she could tell. “Occasionally.”
She gave a knowing nod. “Once in a while, we just need a human touch.” She took the last bite of her meal and glanced toward the bread pudding.
Tessa grinned. “You’ve always had a sweet tooth.”
Brody stood to collect dirty dishes and carry them to the sink. Did the freaking man do everything right? Ian cleared away the leftovers and brought the bread pudding to the table. Their mom must have trained her boys well. They knew their stuff.
Ian steered the conversation to small talk while they finished up. Then Tessa shooed the men from the kitchen, and she and Harmony rinsed and cleaned so that they could sit at the table, bump heads, and yak writing.
Serious, ready for shoptalk, Harmony asked, “So what’s the hang-up in chapter eleven?”
“The scene I planned just won’t work.” Tessa did a quick run-down of her new book, her characters, and where she was stuck.
They brainstormed until Brody wandered out from a back room around ten. “We’d better get back for the night. Ian and I are starting work early tomorrow morning. We have a lot to get done in a month.”
Harmony stretched and yawned. “I have a lot to do, too.” She bent to hug Tessa. “See you tomorrow. Can I help with anything? Come early to set the table?”
“Nope, I’m enjoying myself. Just show up on time for supper.” She raised an eyebrow at Brody. “You’ll have to pry her fingers off her keyboard.”
“Got it.” He held out Harmony’s coat for her, then shrugged into his own. When they stepped outside, the wind hit them, blasting off the lake. It picked up snow and pelted them.
“Damn, it’s cold!” Harmony hustled for the SUV. She hopped inside and slammed the door before she remembered Brody’s rules. The man didn’t get to do door duty this time, but he looked mighty relieved when he slid behind the steering wheel. The warmth of the SUV thawed her on the short drive back. He pulled close to the doors of the resort and started to get out, but she was too quick. She dashed out of the car and into the lobby before he could stop her.
She could get used to having a man deliver her almost to the front door, but she’d better not get too comfortable with it. It wouldn’t happen at home. She waited inside the lobby for him. He looked surprised to see her when he stepped into the foyer. “I thought you’d zip up to your room.”
She grimaced. “I might not be traditional, but I have some manners. Thanks for the ride.”
He frowned at her. “Ian told me your favorite color is apricot.”
She blinked. Where the hell had that come from? How did this man keep throwing her off balance? “Yeah, I guess it is.”
“That’s so feminine. You’re . . .” He hesitated.
She gave his arm a playful punch. “No worries. I get it. I’m not.”
They said their goodnights and went their separate ways. Once in her room, Harmony went to the window to watch white flurries swirl outside. A storm was blowing toward them, intense enough that she couldn’t see to the other side of the lake. She closed the blinds and changed into her pajamas. Then she crawled into bed, dragging her laptop with her. She balanced it on the bedspread and finished the rewrites of the chapters she’d been working on, but her thoughts kept drifting to Brody. Had he been hopeful, madly in love when he married his Cecily? And what had she done to him? A reason, Harmony reminded herself, she avoided happily-ever-after. Because it was a crapshoot whether or not it would work.
Chapter 3
When Harmony turned on her computer the next morning, there was an e-mail from Tessa. Coffee cake outside your door. She looked at the time and grinned. Ian must have brought it over when he came to work with Brody. She’d stayed up later than she meant to last night, but it was worth it. She’d gotten her rewrites done and added to them.
She cracked the door and looked up and down the hall. No one in sight. A good thing. Her hair would make Medusa’s—on a bad day—look good. She wore men’s pajamas that she could swim in, and her ratty pink robe brought her all sorts of comfort, but wouldn’t win any prizes. It matched her ratty, pink slippers.
She grabbed the goodie and retreated back into the room. She’d brought her favorite coffee with her from home, so she started a pot. She was set. Carbs and coffee were her kind of breakfast. She sent back a quick e-mail. Thanks! You’re the best. She knew, for sure, that Tessa was sitting in front of her computer, still in her PJs and a robe, with coffee and carbs, too. That’s why they were such good friends.
When the pot quit gurgling, she poured herself a cup, cut a slice of coffee cake, and settled in front of the keyboard. Her fingers itched to get started. She’d finished the first fourth of the book last night. Only one fourth. That left about forty-five thousand words to go, about one hundred ninety-five pages. Ugh. She bit her bottom lip. If she wrote ten new pages a day . . . Oh, hell, she’d have to, or she wouldn’t have time to do a final rewrite. Who was she kidding? She should really write fifteen pages a day. The book was due on February twentieth.
Fretting wasn’t going to put words on the page. She took a gulp of coffee and looked at her plot notes. Serifina, her protagonist witch, was walking into trouble. She just didn’t know it. A new player had come to town, a rogue vampire who kept nasty company. Harmony was writing like a crazy woman when someone knocked on the door.
Buggers! Why now? Luxar, her hero/vampire, (and soon to be love interest) was about to rescue Serifina from the bad guy, whom he’d been keeping an eye on. Things were getting tense. Torrid was ready to leap.
Another knock. She glanced at herself in the mirror. She could scare small children. She sighed, but she’d seen Tessa in the morning. Her hair went crazy, too. Ian should be used to it. She got up and opened the door. It wasn’t Ian. Brody stood there, staring down at her. Oh, shit.
He blinked at her. Okay, he’d been married once. Surely, Cecily had days when she looked like a harridan. Then again, maybe not. The woman sounded like Miss Sterility—always perfectly coifed and made up. She probably woke up with fresh breath. Harmony ran her tongue over her teeth. Gross, she hadn’t brushed them yet. Brody took a quick breath, then said, “Just wanted to let you know we had to turn off electricity for a short while to rewire a wall. It won’t be long. We didn’t think about warning you, but we should have.”
She felt her shoulders sag. The man did do everythi
ng right. Always did the responsible thing. How hard would that be to live with? No wonder he picked Cecily. She shook her head. “No biggie. I’m not doing any research. I have plenty of battery left. I can still write.”
Brody looked repentant. She liked that expression on him. “I don’t have your cell phone number, so I couldn’t call you to let you know.”
“No problem. Really. Don’t worry about it.” Luxar was calling to her. Her vampire couldn’t wait to spring into action. A battle was brewing. She flashed Brody a fake smile. Go away, nice man!
He frowned. “Are you all right?”
“Great, why?” How bad did she look? Okay, she didn’t want to know. It couldn’t be good.
Brody studied her. “You seem all pent-up, like something’s bothering you.”
She stared. The man read people better than she’d thought. “I’m getting ready to write a fight scene. Two vampires are going to rip and tear at each other. I can’t wait.”
Brody took a step back. He thought she was crazy, she knew it. “And that gets you all worked up?”
Harmony tried to explain. “If I’m not all hot and bothered, how can I expect my readers to be?”
He thought about that. “So you live vicariously through your characters.”
She sighed. “When I’m writing about them.” She wasn’t some nerd who didn’t have a life. Okay, she might be a nerd, but she had friends and went places.
He gave a quick nod. “Okay, then, I’ll let you get back to it.” He turned to leave, then stopped. “Almost forgot. Ian said to tell you that the lodge is closed for two weeks until we get the big stuff done in the west wing, but Paula will still fix lunch for us. We won’t see Tessa until dinner. That way she can write. You two must share some of the same habits.”
Harmony nodded. “Writers write.”
“Lunch is at twelve thirty,” he said. He glanced at her oversized pajamas and frayed robe. With a small shake of his head, he retreated.
