by Judi Lynn
“Sure.” Brody did more than that. He lifted Bailey onto his shoulders, and the little girl giggled. He had to duck to clear the doorway, then turned his head to tell Harmony, “I’ll start the SUV. We’re cutting it close again.”
She rolled her eyes. At home, everything revolved around her writing. That’s the way she liked it, but she hustled to get ready. She’d gotten five pages finished before the kids came up and was feeling pretty happy with herself.
They pulled into Tessa’s driveway at six, sharp. Harmony was grateful they’d had such a short drive. There’d been a dusting of snow today, and the road was slick. When she got out of the car, the sidewalk was slippery, too. Brody came to put his arm under her elbow, and they’d made it up the walk to the first porch step, when he lost his balance. He didn’t want them to fall on their backsides on the cement, so he wrenched Harmony sideways, and they both fell into a deep drift of snow.
She landed on top of him, her body stretched over his. Mmm, she kind of liked it here. She stared down at his handsome face, tempted to plaster her lips on his. What would he do? How would he respond?
Ian raced from the house to check on them. Standing on the porch, he called, “Are you all right?”
“Fine, just damned cold.” Brody’s voice sounded husky. He rolled to his feet and reached to pull Harmony up. His feet slid again, and this time, he fell on top of her. Thankfully, he caught himself on his elbows before he squished her into a pancake.
His gaze locked with hers.
Go ahead. Kiss me. Harmony studied his face, inches from hers. A strong jaw. She was growing fond of those smoky, gray eyes. Full lips. Mmm, the possibilities. But it was cold.
“Brody?” Ian waited.
“I’m fine!” His voice sounded like ground glass. He rolled to his feet again, and this time, he said, “You might be safer without my help.”
Did she want to be safe? Harmony stayed where she was. She flapped her arms up and down and slid her legs back and forth where she lay. “No worries. Just leave me here. I’m a snow angel.”
Brody stared at her like she was nuts, then shook his head and started laughing. “Come on, angel, before you become an ice sculpture.” He stomped his feet deep into the snow for better footing and carefully pulled her to him. Her body was shaking, and he pushed her slightly away to ask, “Did I hurt you?”
The giggles overwhelmed her. “Only my dignity.”
“Very funny.” He flicked her nose. “Come on. I’m freezing.”
When they reached Ian, he gave them a strange look.
“What?” Brody sounded out of patience.
Ian shrugged. “You can’t sue me because you’re clumsy.”
“I’m not clumsy. I didn’t clean the mud off my boots from when I rescued your damned duck, and these boots don’t have any treads on the bottom. They’re smooth.”
“Stick to that story.” Ian led them inside the house. “What I saw was a bull in a china shop.”
“A bull?” They were bickering when they joined Tessa in the kitchen.
She smiled at all of them and came to hug Brody and Harmony. “Ian told me you were worried about me. You two are so sweet.”
Harmony studied her friend. “You still look tired.”
“I shouldn’t. I took a nap this afternoon. I don’t know what happened. I was sitting on the couch, working on my laptop, and the next thing I knew, I woke up two hours later.”
“We can order pizza, you know. That’s my usual staple.” Harmony ignored Brody’s grimace.
“Don’t be silly. I’m keeping everything low key. I think it’s just the weather. I always get tired at the first cold snap. My body has to adjust.”
Ian threw an arm around Tessa’s shoulders. “Okay, woman, let’s eat. Everything’s ready.”
They marched to the table and took their places. The ribs were delicious. The baked potatoes were on the firm side, but no one said a word. Ian had heated up not one, but two cans of green beans. Perfect.
Ian tried to keep the conversation light. “Brody, you mentioned that Bridget phoned last night, but then Paula called us to lunch, and I forgot to ask you about it. What’s up?”
Again, Harmony noticed Brody wince before he said, “Mason wants a puppy, and they’re all arguing about it. Her husband’s waffling, and that pisses Bridget off. She wanted a firm no from him, so that she doesn’t have to be the bad guy.”
Ian frowned. “But that’s why she loves Dave, because he’s so easygoing. He lets her make all the decisions.”
Brody’s lip curled up on one side. “But she only likes it when it benefits her.”
Ian laughed.
Harmony watched Brody. Something was bothering him, she was sure. He was omitting something, but it was not her concern. If he didn’t want to share it, there must be a reason.
When the men cleared the table, Ian spread his hands. “I forgot to hoof it to the bakery and thaw something for dessert. Sorry.”
“I’ve had plenty to eat,” Harmony said. “I’m going to have to hit the gym and start a diet when I get home.”
Brody absently shook his head. “You have a great figure. No worries there.”
She could feel the blush creep to her cheeks. Two compliments from Mr. Broody Brody. She wouldn’t know what to do with herself. “Thanks, but that’s because I’m usually too lazy to fix myself much to eat. I’m constantly getting fed here.”
Brody rested a hand on his stomach. “How do you keep the weight off, Ian?”
Ian looked at his wife with a wicked twinkle in his eyes. “I chase Tessa around the house, naked.”
Tessa’s jaw dropped. A blush crept all the way up to her copper hairline, and she smacked his arm.
Ian laughed at her. “You girls take off. Brody and I will clean up.”
Tessa had to push herself out of her chair. Harmony fought to not put a hand under her elbow to help her into the living room.
“You’re still dead,” Harmony said. “When the guys are done in the kitchen, Brody and I will head back.”
“No, we haven’t even talked writing!” Tessa pursed her lips in a pout. “Are you getting enough pages done? Will you make your deadline?”
“I’m doing rewrites as I go, and I finished ten new pages today. When I get back, I’ll try to squeeze in five more.”
“Brody said you’re being awfully nice to the kids.”
Harmony shrugged. “You’ve seen me when I get too driven. I use up my brain. It goes dry. The kids give me a nice break. I need it.”
Tessa smirked. “You like reading to them.”
Harmony couldn’t slide a half-truth past Tessa. They’d known each other too long. “Yup, I’m busted. Who knew kids could be so much fun?”
Tessa studied her under lowered lashes. “How do you and Brody get along?”
“Uh-uh, don’t go there.” Harmony waggled a finger at her friend. “We do okay, but we don’t have much in common. We make great houseguests, though.”
Tessa smiled and leaned her head back against the high spindles of the rocking chair. Her eyes closed for a second, and she jerked forward, fighting to stay awake.
“Maybe you’re catching something.” Wasn’t it flu season in the Midwest? At home, Harmony usually tried to avoid germy people. For Tessa, she’d brave them to bring her Jell-O and 7-Up. She’d even hold a bucket for her when she puked.
“No fever, no cough, I’m just tired.”
“Then take it easy for a while. Hang in there, friend.” When Brody came to check on her, Harmony motioned that it was time to leave. He gave a quick nod and said his goodbyes to Ian.
Ian gave them a container of Ice Melt to sprinkle on the cement in front of them as they walked to the SUV. “Try not to kill Harmony on the way to your car. Just leave the container by the driveway. I’ll get it in the morning.”
On the short trip back to the lodge, Brody concentrated on the road. His car had four-wheel drive, but it was still tense going. He pulled so close to the front d
oor, she only had a few steps before she was in the foyer. Then he parked the SUV and slid across the pavement to join her. Maybe they should keep Ice Melt near his parking place.
When he went to hang his coat on one of the hooks, he fidgeted with it, and then he fidgeted with his boots when he took them off.
She finally asked, “What’s the deal? Are you worried about Tessa, too?”
“It’s too soon to worry about her,” he said. “She might have overdone it before we got here and wiped herself out. She might be catching something. We’ll know soon.”
“Then what’s wrong?” He’d been tense all night.
“I want to ask you something, but I feel stupid.”
She waved that away. “Stupid has always appealed to me. Go for it.”
He hurried his words. “I don’t suppose you’d like to watch the next Harry Potter movie with me? I bought it.”
She stared. “Wouldn’t that be like cheating? We’d know what happens in the story before I read it to the kids.”
“If you think about it, it might help you read better, with more expression. You’ll know what to emphasize and what not to.”
She couldn’t believe it. “That’s some of the best rationalization I’ve heard in a long time. I thought you always did the right thing.”
“Most of the time, I try.”
“Most of the time?”
He shook his head. “No one’s perfect. But I make really good popcorn, and I bought a really nice bottle of wine. Do you like Riesling? I noticed you drink white with Tessa. She thought it might be your favorite.”
She kicked off her boots and pushed them close to the wall, under her coat. “You didn’t have to try so hard. The popcorn would have done it.”
“I could have saved myself fifteen bucks? I’ll remember that next time.”
“Next time?” She bit her bottom lip to keep from smirking. “You bought all of the movies, didn’t you, the whole set?”
“Who else am I going to watch them with? If anybody on my construction crew sees them at my place, I’ll never hear the end of it. I’ll leave them for the kids when I go home.”
She shouldn’t. She should write. But it was still early. They hadn’t stayed at Ian and Tessa’s that long. “I’m game. I like being spoiled. I’ll expect wine next time, too.”
His eyes glittered, and he looked downright naughty. “That’s why I bought a whole case of it.”
She slapped her thigh and laughed. “You and I could be great friends!”
He sobered so fast, it surprised her. He blinked and sounded surprised himself. “I would have never guessed—a woman friend who’s not a sister.” He looked dumb-founded.
She snorted. An unladylike habit. Okay, another unladylike habit. “You’re thinking too much. I’ll help you with the popcorn.”
With all their snacks ready, they sat, side by side, on the couch, watching the movie. When the enormous snake in the Chamber of Secrets attacked Harry, Brody’s eyes went wide. At the end of the movie, he said, “Isn’t that a little scary for kids?”
Harmony fought back a yawn. “What kid doesn’t like to be scared?”
He studied her. “You’re probably right. It’s only when you become an adult that you try to play everything safe. No surprise bumps. Lots of security. Maybe sometimes, we play things too safe.”
“Beats me. I just try to keep out of harm’s way.”
He held her gaze, suddenly thoughtful. “What harmed you? Because something did, didn’t it?”
She threw up her hands. “It’s too late for deep discussions. Come on. Let’s rinse our dirty dishes. I only talked into the wee hours in the morning in my college days.”
He chuckled, following her to the kitchen. “Okay, in that case, I’ll see you in the morning, but why do I have a feeling you dodge out on deep discussions every chance you get?”
It was her turn to chuckle. “Now you know. I like to play in the shallow end of the pool. And you won’t see me in the morning. You’ll be happy if I remember to brush my teeth for lunch.”
He rinsed the bowls and handed them to her to put in the dishwasher. “You don’t take much seriously, but you’re a fanatic about your writing. When did you start?”
“When I was young. Writing was always an outlet, an escape, for me.” Barricaded in her room, she’d make up happy worlds, full of people she wanted to know. Later, in high school, she discovered urban fantasies. The female protagonists were kick-ass women, self-sufficient. And she knew—that’s what she’d be as soon as she moved out on her own.
“When did it become a career?” He leaned against the sink counter, genuinely curious, she could tell.
“It took a while. I worked in a factory during the day and I wrote at night.” And through her string of rejection letters, she’d watched the dance of the unfaithful as men and women told their spouses they had to work overtime, so that they could sleep with each other. Her dad had been unfaithful, she was sure. Her mother didn’t care, as long as he paid the bills.
What was the point? Why not pay your own bills and be rid of men? She shook off the old memories. “I’d better get some work done before I go to bed. I have five pages to go. See you in the morning.”
She could feel the intensity of his gaze on her as she went up the stairs. Poor Brody. He’d never understand her. He’d lived in an orderly world for far too long.
Chapter 8
She finished the last bite of coffee cake at three in the morning. She’d made a half pot of coffee, gotten a second wind, and was so wrapped up in her story that she forgot the time. Her phone sang “Oh, baby, baby . . .” at seven-thirty.
“No.” She turned off the alarm and tried to go back to sleep, but Luxar just wouldn’t settle down. He pestered her until she stumbled out of bed and returned to her laptop. Seven pages later, she slumped over the desk and fell asleep.
When Brody called at noon to remind her to get ready for lunch, she couldn’t remember what day it was. His voice sounded strained. She was a writer. Even when her brain felt fuzzy, she noticed things. Nuances made a big difference in stories. Foreshadowing cranked up tension. Something had been bothering Brody yesterday. It bothered him more today.
A glance out her window confirmed that gray skies and more snow had come to stay. No specks dotted the ice fishing holes today. A wind whipped across the lake and shook the naked branches of the trees in the back yard. She’d remind Brody to clean his boots. Things were going to be even slipperier than before.
When she reached the lobby, a heavy sheet of plastic blocked off the west wing. She lifted it to take a peek. Two-by-fours framed a hallway with four openings for doors. The men had started hanging drywall in the back and must be working their way forward. She could finally picture how the suites would work.
She slid onto her chair at the dining table at exactly twelve thirty, dressed and close to being presentable. She’d even slapped on some mascara and blush. She glanced at the others. Quiet. Gloomy. Delicious-looking sloppy joes and potato chips sat on each plate. No one was paying attention to their food. Paula looked from one brother to the other. Finally, she asked, “Is everything okay?”
Harmony didn’t feel right asking, so she was glad Paula did. Tension buzzed in the air. She and Brody were acquaintances, not friends. If he wanted to tell her something, he would, but he hadn’t. So it surprised her when he looked directly at her and said, “Cecily’s pregnant.”
Oh, boy. The woman who wouldn’t have his baby had gotten preggo as fast as she could with an older man. “Was it an accident?” she asked.
Brody’s mouth went grim. “Not according to my mother. They still bump into each other at social functions. Bridget called to tell me something was up, that Cecily was walking around like . . .” He hesitated.
“. . . Her ass weighed a ton?” Harmony finished.
He nodded. “That’s how Bridget put it. Bridget would. Mom said Cecily came right up to her to tell her the news and asked her to let me know. Said
I’d be happy to hear she finally got knocked up.”
“She likes to hurt you.” No wonder Brody was so prickly around women.
“When Bridget found out, she started digging around. She knows half of the population in the area.”
Ian nodded. “Like Tessa’s grandmother. That woman knows everyone.”
“She found people who told her the scoop.” Brody’s broad shoulders hunched. He wasn’t happy about the news. “Her husband promised to hire a live-in nanny, so that Cecily wouldn’t be tied down. Maybe if I’d thought of that . . .”
“You’d still be hitched to Super Bitch,” Ian said.
Harmony felt her eyebrows shoot up. “I thought they only hired nannies in English Regency novels—shuffled the kid off to a nursery and let him visit his parents between social engagements.”
Ian shook his head. “No, lots of career women hire nannies so that they can go back to their work or schedules.”
Harmony thought about that. Maybe she’d have been better off if her parents had done that. Her dad was a roofer, a “man’s man,” who loved to hang out with his buddies—golf, bowling, hunting, fishing, tinkering on cars. Her mom worked as a cashier at a dollar store. She loved playing cards and bingo. They spent as little time with Harmony and her brother as possible. There was a roof over her head and always a meal on the table. But she was invisible to them, left to her brother’s care.
Brody waited for her to say something. Her lips turned down. She couldn’t help it, but her voice sounded more bitter than she intended. “Poor kid, he’s going to be pretty much on his own. He’s a token baby.”
Brody frowned, studying her. “Is that what happened to you?”
The damned man was too perceptive. She shrugged. “My parents provided for me, in their way.”
“No siblings?” he asked.
“A brother. I stayed out of his way. He hung out with the wrong people, and he could be mean.” She reached over and put her hand on his. “Are you going to be okay? Cecily’s pushing out a baby to keep her end of a contract. I hope the father, at least, wants it.”
Brody stared at her hand. “He needs an heir, someone to take over his businesses.”
