Harlequin Superromance August 2013 - Bundle 1 of 2: What Happens Between FriendsStaying at Joe'sHer Road Home

by Beth Andrews

  His entire family ragged him endlessly about how often he was on his phone. How the hell did they think so many things got done if he didn’t have his notes and reminders and schedules to keep the company on track?

  He put the phone in his pocket, picked his cake up again only to freeze—the fork raised halfway to his mouth—to find Rose staring at him as if his brain had leaked from his ears and oozed onto the custom-built butcher block topping the center island.

  “What?”

  “I can’t believe you spent a good twenty minutes in conversation with Anne and the only thing you can say is that she’s—” Rose’s mouth twisted “—capable.”

  He ate the bite of cake. Silently urged the coffee to hurry up and brew. “What’s wrong with capable? You want us to work with inept subcontractors?”

  She grabbed cream from the stainless-steel fridge, slammed the door shut. An attractive woman despite the extra pounds in her hips and thighs, her face was a softer, rounder version of the beautiful girl she’d once been. Her chin-length hair was still dark, her face showing only faint signs of age. “I want you to notice when there’s an attractive, intelligent, interesting, single woman right in front of you.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You said you invited her because she’s new in town.”

  “She is.”

  “And because Kloss’s recently hired her.”

  “They did.”

  “And because you wanted us to get to know her, since we’ll be working with her so closely at Bradford House.”

  Rose added her delicate china sugar bowl—the one James and his brothers had bought for Mother’s Day a good twenty years ago to replace the one they’d broken during an impromptu, and ill-advised, indoor game of soccer—to a large serving tray. “I’m well aware of what I said.”

  “You forgot to mention you were setting me up with her,” he said in a thoughtful, patient and completely reasonable tone. He was nothing if not a thoughtful, patient and reasonable man, damn it.

  He stabbed another bite of cake.

  “No one has set you up. All I did was invite Anne to the party for all the reasons I mentioned and you so helpfully repeated. If you two hit it off, great. If not...” She shrugged, though the look she shot him clearly said if he didn’t hit it off with Anne, he was an idiot. “No harm done, then.”

  “You’re sneaky.”

  “I prefer to think of it as multitasking. I help someone new to town feel welcome, introduce her to a few friends and possibly help you find your future wife.”

  He set his empty plate aside. “Sneaky and scary.”

  “Relax. No one’s forcing you to the altar. I’m just showing you an option.”

  Thunder boomed and his sweet-natured dog, Zoe, a German shepherd/husky mix, whined and nudged the side of his leg. He patted her head, but kept his gaze on his mother. “Anyone ever tell you you’d make a hell of a used-car salesperson?”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.” She set cups and saucers on the tray. “Why don’t you open a couple more bottles of wine and take them around to the guests? Make sure one is merlot.”

  He went to the other side of the square island and searched through the well-stocked, built-in wine rack. Pulled out a bottle of merlot along with one of pinot blanc. “Don’t tell me, Anne prefers merlot.”

  Beaming, Rose patted his cheek. “You always were a bright child.”

  Bright enough to know arguing with his mother would do him no good. The best way to handle this was to grin and bear it.

  He opened the bottle of white, set it aside to breathe. He didn’t have anything against Anne, or pretty brunettes in general. But he could, and often did, get his own dates. He didn’t need his mommy setting him up.

  “Dad wants to know if the coffee’s ready,” James’s younger brother, Eddie, said as he came through the kitchen door.

  “The regular is about done,” Rose said, “but the decaf is going to take a few minutes.”

  Eddie grabbed a cup from the tray and reached for the pot. “He won’t know the difference.”

  Rose slapped the back of his hand. “If you give him regular, he won’t sleep. And when your father doesn’t sleep, I don’t sleep. Mostly because he keeps me awake until the wee hours of the morning with all his tossing and turning. You’ll give him decaf or I’m sending him home with you and Max tonight.”

  “No need for threats. I’ll give him decaf.” He turned to James. “Meg Simpson’s looking for you. Said she wants to discuss us doing an addition at their cottage on the lake next year.”

  “She’ll have to wait,” he said mildly, lifting the merlot bottle. “I’m getting my future wife a drink.”

  Eddie raised his dark eyebrows. Shorter than both James and their youngest brother, Leo, but broader through the shoulders, he had their father’s muscular build and their mother’s hazel eyes. “Future wife?”

  Nodding, James pulled the cork from the merlot. “It’s all thanks to Mom. She got me a girl for my birthday.”

  Rose shook her head. “Now, James. Really. A girl?”

  “Sorry. Woman.”

  Eddie helped himself to a strawberry from the fruit-and-cheese tray Rose was putting together. “She got me a watch for my last birthday.”

  “Maybe she’ll get you your very own woman for Christmas,” James said.

  Eddie gave one of his reticent shrugs. “A man can hope.”

  “Meg Simpson wants to talk to you,” Leo told James as he came in carrying dirty dessert dishes.

  “Yeah. I got that memo.”

  Leo put the plates in the sink. “A customer wants to talk to you about doing a new job and you’re not racing out there with your handy schedule and charts and whatnot?” He studied each of them, his dark eyes narrowed. “Okay, what’s going on?”

  “Mom got him a girl for his birthday,” Eddie said.

  “Yeah?” Leo grinned, slow and wicked. “Which one?”

  “Kloss’s new painter,” James said. “Tall brunette in a blue dress in the living room.”

  Leo and Eddie exchanged a glance then both walked out only to return less than thirty seconds later. “She’s hot,” Leo said. “Excellent legs, nice ra—”

  Rose slapped him upside the head.

  “Shoes,” he amended quickly, holding his hand over the spot she’d slapped. He stepped out of range. “Really nice shoes. Good choice, Mom.”

  “Thank you,” she said, pouring the regular coffee into an insulated carafe. “I’m glad one of my sons appreciates my efforts.”

  “Guilt?” James asked. “That’s beneath you.”

  Leo smiled, the same smile that had made fools of hundreds of women. Females. Always falling for a pretty face. “If he doesn’t want her, can I have her?”

  “Absolutely not.” Rose turned to James. “My goodness, the way you’re acting, you’d think I bought you a Russian mail-order bride and had you legally wed without your knowledge. All I did was invite a lovely, interesting, nice woman to your party. Is that so wrong?” she cried with the dramatic flair he’d come to know and love.

  Eddie pursed his lips and, as usual, wisely kept quiet. Leo rolled his eyes.

  James showed his appreciation with quiet applause that had Zoe lifting her head, her tail wagging. “That was true Oscar material. Bravo.”

  Leo snorted. “I’ve seen her do better. It was lacking something. It needed more...action. Drama. Maybe next time,” he told Rose, “thump your fist over your heart. Gnash your teeth. Rip at your hair. Don’t hold back.”

  Rose gave him one of her patented disdainful sniffs. “Everyone’s a critic.”

  “Hey, you know my motto—go big or go home.”

  “I wish you’d go home,” James said with feeling. He turned to his mom. “And I wish you wouldn’t set me up, especia
lly without asking first. Especially on my birthday,” he added.

  Guilt may have been beneath his mom, but he wasn’t above using it himself.

  Sometimes a man had to fight fire with fire.

  Rose rounded her eyes. “It’s your birthday? Today? Why, that must’ve completely slipped my mind, which is strange as I’m usually good with dates and things. Oh...wait...” Frowning, she pressed her fingertips against her temples. “Is today the twenty-first? Because I’m getting this vague memory of being in labor on this date years ago for...let me see...”

  “Twenty-nine and a half hours,” James, Eddie and Leo said in unison.

  Rose’s hazel eyes gleamed, but her expression remained as serious as a heart attack. “Yes, that’s right. It’s all coming back to me now. Then again, it’s hard to forget twenty-nine—”

  “And a half,” the brothers added.

  “Twenty-nine and a half hours of excruciating pain. And that’s not even including pushing you—and your rather large head—out.”

  Wincing, feeling more than a little sick to his stomach, James rubbed the back of his regular-size head. And conceded defeat. “I appreciate it. I think. Next year, I’m throwing you a party.”

  “The flowers you send every year are more than enough, thanks.” She laid her hand on his arm. “Can’t you give Anne a chance? Just talk to her. Get to know her a bit. That’s all I’m asking.”

  He sighed. He knew his mom wanted him settled. Married.

  Hell, he wanted that, too. Wanted a family of his own, a wife in his bed, a couple of kids running around his house. He’d always figured it hadn’t happened yet because it wasn’t meant to, but that it would. Someday.

  Since he had no control over when, exactly, that day would arrive, he didn’t bother worrying about it. It was useless, and a waste of energy, to fight the ebb and flow of life. Better to focus on keeping your head above water and just ride the waves out.

  But maybe, this one time, he could try paddling and get where he was going faster.

  Even if his mother was doing the steering.

  “I’ll talk to her some more,” he said. What could it hurt? “But I’m not making any promises.”

  “No promises. Got it.”

  She hugged him. Looking over her head, James glanced at Leo who mouthed, “Sucker.”

  James flipped him off.

  “Leo,” Rose said as she broke the hug. “Please make another pot of coffee while Eddie and I take these trays out.”

  “If you keep feeding people,” Eddie grumbled, “they’ll never leave.”

  Rose handed him the coffee tray. “Your unsociable side is showing again.”

  “Does he have any other side?” Leo asked.

  “God, I hope so.” At the door, she looked back at James. “Don’t forget the wine.”

  She swept out of the room, as regal as a queen, as formidable as a Navy SEAL.

  “Yeah,” Leo said, rinsing the coffeepot. “And don’t forget the engagement ring.”

  James stepped forward, ready to dunk his brother’s fat head under the running water, when his phone buzzed. He took it out, checked the caller ID. And, grinning, answered.

  “Well, what do you know?” he said, crossing his ankles and leaning back against the counter. “It’s trouble come to call.”

  Sadie Nixon laughed, the light, tinkling sound warm and as clear as if she was standing next to him. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

  “Only the ones who’ve earned it.”

  “What’s life without a little trouble?”

  “Peaceful.”

  “I think the word you’re searching for is boring.”

  “With you around? Never.”

  “Flatterer. Now stop trying to charm me, I’m on a mission here. Guess where I’m at?”

  “Jail?” he asked, earning him a curious glance from Leo.

  “After that New Year’s Eve incident in D.C. you made me promise never to ask you to bail me out again, remember?”

  “Hard to forget.” He’d left his date—a very friendly blonde—and driven the four and a half hours from Shady Grove, Pennsylvania, to D.C. in a blinding snowstorm. It had been worth it. Being with Sadie was always worth it. “Not jail, then.”

  “You’ll never guess—”

  “Then why did you ask me to?”

  “—so I’ll just tell you....” He was surprised she didn’t tap out a drumroll during her drawn-out dramatic pause. “I’m in Shady Grove.”

  “No kidding? You at your parents’ place?” Dr. and Mrs. Ellison had left the party less than an hour ago and they hadn’t said anything about Sadie coming home.

  Then again, most of Sadie’s trips to Shady Grove were unexpected. She was like a summer storm—you never knew when she would strike or how long she would stick around. And when she took off on her next great adventure, it was as if you’d been swept up in a tornado, your head dizzy and aching, your thoughts and feelings twirling.

  “No, I had a stop I wanted to make first. Say, when did your mom have that stone retaining wall put in out front?”

  “Two years ago. Eddie, Leo and I did it for Mother’s—” He straightened. “Don’t move.”

  He shut off the phone, stuffed it into his pocket and walked through the house toward the front door. If he happened to glance in the living room, just to see if Leo’s assessment of Anne’s legs was correct—it was—no one could fault him.

  And while he had every intention of keeping his word to his mom, he kept walking. But he didn’t want Anne Forbes. No matter that his mother had deemed her future-wife material. What he wanted, what he’d always wanted, was outside right now waiting for him.

  He wanted Sadie Nixon.

  CHAPTER TWO

  THE RAIN HAD stopped, and beyond the Montesanos’ two-story brick home, a crescent moon glowed brightly against the dark sky. In the driveway, parked behind a long line of cars—when Rose Montesano threw a party, she didn’t mess around—Sadie clicked off her phone.

  “He’s coming,” she told Elvis, stroking his head, and his eyes squinted in pleasure. “I can’t wait for you to meet James. He’s the best.” The best friend a girl could ever have and the second greatest guy she’d ever known.

  The number-one position was reserved for her father, the late, great Victor Nixon. Bigger than life and handsome as sin, he’d done more, seen more and had gotten more out of his thirty years than most people did who lived three times that long. Most importantly, he’d lived life on his own terms, thumbing his nose at his family’s wealth and rigid standards to forge his own path at the tender age of sixteen, following his dreams wherever they took him.

  He’d taught her that each day was an adventure waiting to be experienced.

  She rubbed a hand over the ache in her chest, just above her heart. God, but she missed her daddy. She still missed him so, so much.

  The front door opened and James stepped onto the wide porch and jogged down the stairs.

  “I’ll be right back,” she promised Elvis before climbing out of the car.

  Holding the top of the door with one hand, she waited while James approached in all his six-foot, darkly handsome glory, his stride purposeful. She knew the moment he spotted her. She never tired of the way his face lit when he saw her, of how, out of all the people she knew and loved, he was the only one who never got frustrated with her lack of planning, her decisions. Never lost his patience with her or tried to change her.

  With a whoop of joy, she launched herself at him. His arms came around her, strong and steady. Comfortable. No matter what the circumstances, no matter how she messed up or how fast she was falling, James always caught her before she hit rock bottom.

  She could always, always count on James to catch her.

  Laughing,
Sadie squeezed him tight. Yeah, Shady Grove was where she’d spent the majority of her formative years, the town where she’d first completed an entire school year without the disruption of another move. It was where her mother had grown up, where her mother, stepfather and sister all lived. But it was just a place, just another town.

  This, she thought, clinging to her best friend, was home.

  “You’re soaked.” Settling his hands on her hips, he pulled back and frowned at the mud on her pants, the wet spot on his light blue dress shirt. “You look like a drowned rat.”

  “Oh, James.” She simpered, batting his chest. “You sure do know how to sweet-talk a girl. I’m shocked, shocked I say, that you’re still single.”

  “And I’m shocked, shocked I say,” he said in a seriously decent imitation of her, “that you manage to get through each day without causing yourself—or others—bodily harm.”

  She lifted her hand to the side of her head. “Who says I didn’t cause any bodily harm?”

  He brushed her hand aside and lightly probed the area above her ears, his touch incredibly gentle. The tips of his fingers trailed across the sensitive goose egg. She bit her lip to keep from hissing out a sharp breath.

  “What did you do?” he asked.

  “I had a little accident—”

  “How bad?”

  “Not bad,” she told him quickly, knowing how he worried about...well...everything. “I was on Case Boulevard and skidded off the road and hit the pillar holding the Welcome to Shady Grove sign.”

  The front door opened, and a couple she didn’t recognize descended the porch steps, lifted their hands in farewell to James before getting into their car.

  James walked to the driver’s side of the Jeep. He crouched to study where the pillar and vehicle had, briefly, become one.

  “You,” he said, straightening, “are a menace. And a threat to brick pillars everywhere.”

  She grinned. How could she not when it was such a James thing to say, his words spoken with so much resignation and fondness? “None stand a chance while I’m behind the wheel.”