by Judi Lynn
Paula looked at Harmony. Harmony glanced at the boy. He looked nervous, afraid. She shrugged. “Hell, why not?” The kid could hardly keep his eyes open. Maybe he just needed something to jostle his thoughts away from whatever was bothering him.
“When your movie’s over, I’ll leave the door unlocked, and you can bring him into our apartment and let him sleep on the couch. I’ll put his pillow and blanket there.” Before she left, Paula looked at them and mouthed the words thank you.
Brody hit the play button on the movie, and half an hour later, Aiden was asleep. Brody nodded toward him. “I can carry him to Paula’s couch, so you don’t have to keep holding him.”
Harmony ran her fingers through the boy’s soft hair. “He’s no bother. Let him reach deep sleep, then he might not dream anymore tonight. Poor kid, something’s eating at him.”
When the movie ended, Brody gently lifted him, and Harmony went with him to settle Aiden on Paula’s couch. They gazed down at him. “He looked scared to me,” Brody said.
Harmony nodded. “I used to have nightmares when my brother threatened to beat me up. He hated it when my parents made him stay home with me when they went out.”
Brody’s expression turned grim. “What’s your brother doing now?”
“He moved to Texas. I think he’s a trucker, but he changes jobs a lot.”
Brody shook his head. He was damned good-looking when he brooded. His gaze settled on Aiden. “If he sees war scenes on the evening news, do you think he dreams about his dad? That has to be tough for a kid.”
Harmony pressed her lips together. “I sure as hell hope not.”
When they left Paula’s apartment, they gathered their dirty dishes and carried them to the kitchen. Tonight, they plopped at the worktable and Brody drank another beer and she had another glass of wine.
This time, Brody made silly small talk. He told stories about when he and Ian were little boys and how their sisters used to dress Ian up in strange costumes when they had tea parties. He told her how he and Ian had decided to sneak out of the house and had crawled out on the porch roof, then made it to the big tree and started down it when their mother shone a flashlight on them and threatened to wake their dad. By the time they glanced at the clock and decided they’d better call it a night, Harmony was relaxed and happy. When she climbed the stairs to her room, she realized Brody was every bit as appealing when he was being silly as when he was brooding and serious.
She stared at her laptop. She was too tired to write tonight. She set her alarm for six-thirty to get an early start in the morning.
Chapter 10
Harmony jumped out of bed at six-thirty with all kinds of ideas for her new scene flying in her head. Bless the good, old subconscious. It always worked overtime, especially if she wasn’t watching. She grabbed coffee, took the last slice of coffee cake—a little on the stale side now—and hit the laptop’s keys. Things between Luxar and Serifina were heating up. Battles were brewing. By the time she went downstairs for lunch, she was beaming.
Brody and Ian were still pounding on something in the west wing. Another wall must be going up. She looked in the cream-colored dining room, but didn’t see Paula. She glanced at her watch. Hmm, everyone must be late this time except her. She grabbed a magazine and snuggled down on a soft, leather sofa in the lobby to wait for them. When the pounding stopped, and Brody walked out and saw her, he glared. “Did you swallow a canary? You look awfully damned pleased with yourself today.”
She laughed at his foul mood. “Someone must not have had a good morning, but I was on time. You weren’t.”
Ian came up behind him. “We hit a snag, building a closet.”
“Life happens.” She stood and looked around. Were they skipping lunch today and no one told her? “Are you always this grumpy when things don’t go your way?” she asked Brody.
He scowled. “I had a hell of a time sleeping last night, kept thinking about things.” The scowl darkened. “It was your fault.”
“My fault?” What had she done?
“You and your comment about me getting too old to have kids.” He narrowed his eyes at her . . . considering. It made her nervous.
She waved him off. “You’re not going to ruin my mood. I got up early and have fifteen pages written today—already! And they’re good ones.”
Brody thought about that as Ian motioned them toward the kitchen. “How many do you usually write?”
“I’m not a fast writer. I’m lucky when I get eight decent pages. I always do my rewrites in the morning before I start the new stuff.”
Ian nodded. “That’s about what Tessa writes, too. She says if she gets ten pages a day, then in thirty days of writing, she’ll have a rough draft. She doesn’t write on weekends. Has the bakery to run on Friday and Saturday mornings.”
Brody scratched his head. Sawdust fell to his shoulder. He grimaced and scrubbed his hands through his hair, shaking out the rest. “A lot more goes into writing than I thought.”
“Why would you think about it? Only writers fiddle with that kind of stuff.” Harmony looked around and frowned. “Where’s Paula?”
Ian finished herding them into the kitchen. “She made sandwiches and a salad for us, but then took hers to the apartment to eat. Aiden’s home from school today, sick. Paula thinks he’s faking, but he’s never pulled this before, so she doesn’t know what’s up.”
“Something’s bothering him.” Harmony’s mouth set in a firm line. She glanced at Brody, and he nodded.
“We’ll figure it out.” He looked at his brother. “How’s Tessa today?”
“She doesn’t get sick when she eats, but she loses it when she cooks and the smells hit her. I’m sorry, but I think we’re going to have to eat at the diner for a while.”
Brody’s expression turned to calculating. A worry wriggled down Harmony’s spine. He tossed an arm over her shoulders, as if they were comrades. At first, it surprised her, but then heat replaced her worry. “No need to. If you let Harmony and me use the kitchen here, we’ll cook dinners and bring them to your place. That way, no cooking smells, just food.”
Ian stared. “What made you think of that?”
Harmony stared, too. What the hell was he thinking? Did he hate eating out that much? She needed to get fifteen pages written a day! She was already stopping every afternoon to read to kids. Now he wanted her to cook?
“Harmony volunteered for us to come to your place and help Tessa cook, remember? We’ll just take it one step farther.”
Okay, she had volunteered to do that. Tessa was her best friend. She’d pitch in to help if Tessa needed it. If they could cook something fast, before they went to the bungalow, that was doable.
Ian crossed his arms over his chest, unimpressed. “You don’t know how to cook.”
Brody grimaced. He obviously couldn’t argue that point. “True, but Harmony does.”
Ian shook his head. He didn’t trust Brody’s offer. Neither did Harmony.
Brody gave her shoulders a squeeze. “Harmony and I both love Tessa. Tell us what her favorites are, and we’ll make them.”
What? He was getting a little overconfident now. “But I only know . . .”
Brody interrupted her. “If you can make a dozen killer dishes, you can make lots more. We’ll look for recipes online.”
Ian eyed his brother with suspicion. “Okay, I’ll call your bluff. This should be interesting.”
Harmony gulped. What had just happened?
“We can talk about it over lunch.” Ian settled at the kitchen worktable where Paula had left a plate full of toasted, ham and cheese sandwiches. Feeling dazed, Harmony reached for one. After peanut butter sandwiches for supper last night, she was salivating. She raised an eyebrow at Brody when he took two, then she glanced at the gleaming, stainless steel appliances. Somehow, they seemed more intimidating than her battered white stove and refrigerator at home.
“Do you do any cooking at all?” she asked him.
“I rehe
at things really well.” His bite took a fourth of the sandwich.
She frowned at him. The man looked smug. She got the feeling she was missing something, but couldn’t decide what it might be.
“I’ll make a great sous chef,” he guaranteed her.
She heaved a sigh. “This might push my limits. I can’t compete with Tessa, but we can come up with something.” She turned a worried look on Ian. “What about her baking?”
“That doesn’t bother her. She thinks it’s the smell of grease and meat that make her queasy.” He was studying his brother.
Brody shrugged. “Harmony and I can handle meat.”
“Since when? I’ve seen you grill, but this isn’t exactly grill season.” The brothers locked gazes, some kind of silent communication passing between them, and suddenly, Ian blinked, surprised. He grinned from ear to ear. “You guys are the best! Harmony will need lots of help. Tessa loves soups and casseroles. You don’t have to make anything fancy.”
Harmony looked back and forth between them. What was with the sudden mood swing? Now they both looked too innocent. Oh, crikey! She was doomed.
“One-pot meals are a good idea.” Brody nodded. “That way, Tessa’ll have leftovers for lunch.”
Why did Harmony feel like she was being steamrolled? She looked at the two men, sure she was missing something, but they gazed back at her with their polite expressions. That worried her even more. They must have given their poor mother fits when they were growing up. What were they up to? She pursed her lips, wary, but why not cook for Tessa?
She decided to give in graciously. “I make a killer potato soup. One of my friends is allergic to milk and I make it with coconut milk, chicken broth, and a pinch of curry powder.”
Ian looked worried. “I don’t think we have coconut milk in the pantry.”
“No problem.” Brody had an answer for everything. “Harmony and I will come up with menus, then drive into town and stock up enough for a couple of weeks.” When Harmony looked startled, he hurried to add, “The food will be on me as a baby present for both of you. It’ll be fun to go shopping together, right?”
Fun? Was he nuts? Did he have any idea how long it would take?
Ian’s brown eyes glittered with amusement. “You’re going to buy our food and cook it?”
Brody looked like he might throttle his little brother. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“No. No! It’s great. Remember. Nothing too spicy.”
Brody nodded and started for the door. “I’ll get my laptop.”
Harmony blinked. “Right now?”
“We need something for supper, right?” He looked to Ian for confirmation.
When Ian nodded, he turned to Harmony. “Is that okay with you? I guess I could grab something from the diner to bring back for tonight.”
She rubbed her forehead, befuddled. Everything was moving so quickly, she hardly had time to think. “No, we might as well do it now. I met my page quota for the day. If I lose this afternoon, I’m all right.”
“Okay then.” Brody hurried out of the room before she could change her mind. For a big man, he could move awfully fast. He called back to Ian, “You can paint the first suite without me, can’t you?”
Ian nodded. “Luther’s coming to help. He’s happy to make a little overtime money.”
Harmony remembered. “His wife just had a baby, didn’t she?” Tessa was especially fond of Luther and his girlfriend. No, make that new wife. Good grief, were the planets aligned somehow so that women were more fertile and horny than usual? There seemed to be a trend lately.
Ian grinned. “You should see their baby. A little girl. She couldn’t be cuter.”
Footsteps crossed the front lobby, and Luther popped his head around the kitchen door—a kid—maybe eighteen or nineteen—with dirty-blonde hair and a wiry build. Harmony couldn’t imagine having a baby when she was his age. But Tessa had told her that he could hardly keep his hands off his new daughter. When he saw her, he almost backed away, but Ian held up a hand. “I’m coming. Just let me rinse our dishes.” A second later, Ian disappeared to paint with Luther.
Brody returned in a few minutes with his laptop. Harmony sat down next to him, and he moved his stool even closer, so she could see. They bumped shoulders as he scrolled through recipes. At first, Harmony felt crowded. Then she relaxed and let herself enjoy his proximity. Strength rolled off him. He seemed to be enjoying their nearness, too, the way he bent in.
Brody made a list—Friday: potato soup, Saturday: pork roast with veggies in a slow cooker, Sunday: beef and noodles, then chicken pot pie, Manhattan clam chowder, shepherd’s pie, and chicken enchiladas. All things she could make.
“One week, done.” Talk about efficient. They had menus and grocery items. He turned a dazzling smile on her. The man could be charming when he put his mind to it.
They came up with food for a second week and listed every new ingredient they needed on the grocery list. He was nothing but thorough. When they finished, Brody printed everything out in Ian’s office and gave a satisfied sigh. “What do you think? Ian and Tessa will have plenty of leftovers and not one thing that’s too spicy.”
Harmony shook her head. She’d never planned this much in her life. It looked like enough food to feed an army, but if it made Brody happy, why not? She couldn’t imagine how much money it would cost, but that didn’t seem to bother him. She broached the subject, “This is going to get expensive.”
He stared. “We don’t have anything extravagant on it, no steak or lobster or seafood.”
“No, but you’re buying a lot, all at one time.”
“Oh, that.” He shrugged. “We have to eat, right?”
“I guess.”
He grabbed her arm and gave her a quick hug. “We’ll be a team. I bet we’ll work well together. If we hurry, we can make it to the store and back before the kids come up for you to read to them.”
The kids? Harmony had forgotten. She glanced at the clock. “We have three hours.”
“Get your coat.” Brody was already on his way to the door.
Harmony sighed and followed him. Once Brody made a decision, he acted on it. That much was obvious.
Chapter 11
The roads had been treated, and the drive into Mill Pond wasn’t too bad. The town itself was small with quaint brick buildings lining Main Street. They passed the diner and found the grocery store at the other end of the business district.
“What if I push the cart and pay, and you choose what we need?” Brody looked slightly lost, and Harmony suspected he’d never done serious food shopping before. They wandered the aisles for over an hour, filling the cart with everything on Brody’s list. Harmony started to wonder if the cart would hold everything.
Every time someone stopped Brody to say hi, he made a point of wrapping his arm around her waist and introducing her. Not a bad thing. Her body tingled every time he pressed her close to his side. But once she left Mill Pond, she’d never see these people again. He was stretching good manners further than necessary. Brody was an old-school type of person, though. He stuck to protocol.
An attractive, young woman with a short Afro and a stunning, heart-shaped face stopped him in aisle three. Her dark eyes danced with curiosity. “We heard you were back in town, helping Ian at his place.”
Brody reached for Harmony’s hand to introduce her. “Harmony, Darinda. Darinda’s one of Tessa’s oldest friends. Darinda, Harmony—one of Tessa’s writer friends.”
“Tessa’s told me about you, girl.” Darinda noticed the hand thing, and her full lips curled in delight. “Spill, Brody. Are you two an item? I thought you’d sworn off women after your divorce.”
An item? Embarrassed, Harmony pulled her hand away. Shaking her head, she said, “We’re just shopping so we can cook for Tessa a while.”
“That’s so sweet of you!” Darinda glowed with excitement. “I can’t believe my BFF’s gonna have a baby.”
“Does everyone know?” Brody in
ched closer to Harmony, and she glanced up at him. Did Darinda make him nervous? He didn’t look nervous. It would be hard to shake Brody. Had she hit on him the last time he visited here, and he was warning her off? No, Darinda was happily married. Tessa talked about her husband and kids, what a neat family they were.
Darinda rolled her eyes. “This is Mill Pond, sweetie. There are no secrets here. Grams has been spreading the word.”
Brody grinned. “I’ve heard about Grams.”
Darinda threw her arms around him in a quick hug. “Baby, you’re gonna be an uncle soon. You won’t be able to stay away from Mill Pond. We’ll see more of you.” She left them to their burgeoning cart, and Brody kept adding things they didn’t need. Harmony kept complaining, but her words fell on deaf ears.
“Do you like chocolate? Should we buy some of that? What about wine? What’s your favorite?” Brody acted like the proverbial kid in a candy shop.
She finally stopped, hands on hips, and demanded, “When was the last time you were in a store?”
He shook his head. “I don’t remember. This is great, isn’t it?”
“Your bill’s going to be horrible.”
He shrugged. “A vacation would cost a lot more, and it wouldn’t be half as much fun.”
“Really? This is your idea of a good time? Where the hell do you go when you want to get away?”
He grinned. “This is a different kind of fun.”
She knew he was rich, but her middle-class mind could hardly wrap itself around busting a budget like this. When she finally got him out of the store, he reached for her hand again on the ride home. He was sure in a touchy-feely mood today. As usual, though, he woke up her hormones. What girl could resist such blatant masculinity?
He patted her hand, then pulled away to place his on the steering wheel. “Thanks for this. I think the world of Tessa, and this is something we can do to help her.”
How could she argue with that? Mr. Responsible had a big heart. When they turned into the resort’s drive, Brody called Ian and Luther to help them carry everything into the lodge. Luther stared at the army of bags in awe. Ian’s eyebrows rose. He looked at Harmony.
