Brandon opened the other and tucked it into her hand. It didn’t take long to help spread out a variety of nifty plaid blankets. A caterer had the picnic theme down pretty well—barbecued ribs and hamburgers, corn on the cob, big pans of fried chicken, and vats of salads. Brandon mentally planned on plowing through and piling up plates for Della, Annette, and himself.
“Hey, Stevens.”
He turned. “Gabe. Justin.”
“What do you think you’re doing with our sister?”
Brandon didn’t sense any hostility. Appreciating how they kept watch over their sister, he pretended to study the pair and kept his tone light. “Della’s a sweet little gal. How’d she ever end up with brothers like you?”
“That’s not the issue.” Gabe closed in. “You’d better treat her right.”
“Not a problem.” After having worked with the Valentine brothers, Brandon wasn’t in the least bit surprised that they matched their father’s bluster. Reliable, good workers, a bit high-spirited, but solid through and through. They loved Della every bit as much as she loved them—and because of that, Brandon determined to earn their respect and trust.
Justin smirked. “Dad told us to find someone to date her. I was going to nominate you, but don’t tell her that.”Brandon chuckled. “I won’t—unless she asks. The little lady already had me promise to always shoot straight. I’m not going back on my word.” He shoved a pair of blankets into Gabe’s arms. “So stop swaggering and make yourselves useful. Spread these out.”
Gabe stared pointedly at Brandon’s empty arms. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going back to your sister.” He turned and strode toward the sycamore tree.
Annette laughed as he approached. “I told Della to stop fretting about you talking with her brothers. If they irritate you, you’ll handle them.”
“Yup.” He winked.
“But you’re too smart to irk them,” Della decided. “I’m the one who’ll bug you first.”
“You already do.” Brandon took her hand and lifted it in a silent bid for her to rise. She followed his lead beautifully in a single, fluid move, and he fought the urge to yank her close as he growled, “You make me crazy.”
He escorted them to the reception line, and Brandon couldn’t help thinking Della would be beautiful in a bridal gown. Standing next to me.
While in the SEALs, he’d refused to be in a serious relationship because it was just too hard on the woman and unfair to kids. Now his life was stable. For the first time, the idea of marriage, a little house, and kids slammed into him. The impact didn’t blow him away, though. Elation filled him. He’d always loved family. Maybe the time had come for it to be his turn.
And Della would make a fine wife.
❧
“Dry? Is that you?”
Della watched in surprise as Jordan slapped Brandon on the back. Valene’s husband shook his head. “I almost didn’t recognize you. You clean up well.”
“Dry?” Della accepted the plate someone handed her and looked at the men in puzzlement.
“We ran into each other, compliments of Uncle Sam.”
Brandon’s casual voice could have fooled an acquaintance, but Della detected a wealth of information and feeling under the surface.
“I never figured out,” Jordan continued, “whether you got that handle because you never drank or because you were famous for snaking.”
“Both.”
“You ate snakes?” Annette turned a hideous shade of green.
“Nah. Snaking is just crawling through stuff you don’t want to know about.” As if his height didn’t give him a good enough view of the huge spread of food, Brandon craned his neck and gawked ahead. “Now I wouldn’t mind crawling through this stuff one bit.”
Della took the hint that he didn’t want to pursue the topic and rescued him. “I get dibs on the potato salad before you do. It’s from Pudgy’s.”
Annette regained her coloring and grabbed a fork. “Okay, I give up. You two go pick up the whole bowl and bring it back to me. I’ll be sitting in the shade.” As she waddled off, Della started laughing.
Brandon arched a brow and warned, “She was serious.”
“I know! That’s what’s so funny. I’m glad she’s finally over her morning sickness. I’ll make a plate for her and add a big scoop.”
“I’ll hold all three plates.” He followed her down the buffet line and back toward Annette. “I’ll go back for drinks.”
“But Jordan just said you don’t drink.”
“I don’t.” He regretted his curt tone. “My granddad drank himself into the grave. The whole family suffered from what booze did to him.”
She nodded somberly. “My mom was killed by a drunk driver. I understand.”
“Sorry.” He studied her. “How old were you?”
“It was just before my first birthday.”
He whistled under his breath.
Della didn’t want to spoil their day with a recitation of what she’d missed. She did a little hop-step to match his stride and laughed. “Yeah, I was at my dad and brothers’ mercy for a long time, but I paid them back for all of their mistakes while I learned to cook.”
“So you can cook?”
“Daddy taught my brothers how to do wiring by having them install smoke detectors in every room of the house. Whenever I burned anything, the whole neighborhood knew. You can bet I learned quick!”
“Her lasagna is to die for,” Annette said as she reached for her plate.
“Is that so?”
Della laughed. “You’re welcome to come try it, but you’ll have to fight Daddy and my brothers to get any.”
He gave her a slow wink that made her toes curl. “Some things are worth fighting for.”
❧
“You pulled that off beautifully,” Brandon said as he drove away from the reception. “No one knew it fell in your lap as a last-minute deal, and if I hadn’t seen your plans back at the shop, I wouldn’t have known you plotted the set up and made all of the arrangements.”
“That’s the way it’s supposed to seem—effortless. The spotlight is on the bride and groom.”
“Yeah, well, this wasn’t exactly the standard wedding and reception. Take some credit, Della. You stepped in and saved the day by putting this together. Doing the picnic theme was a stroke of genius.”
“Coping with glitches is part of my business. It wasn’t what Linda originally wanted, but I’m glad the outcome pleased her. I just used some creativity to get the job done. I’m sure you handle predicaments all the time, too.”
“Not that kind.” He changed lanes and glanced at her. “Linda turned into a basket case when the caterer bugged out.”
“She looked serene today.” Della twisted as far as her seat belt allowed and faced him. “Everyone pitched in to make it come together.”
“The preacher got too long-winded.” Brandon flipped the jeep’s sun visor to the side. “He could have just stuck to the usual prayer and vows. Hot as it is, we all fried in the sun while he talked about Jesus and that stuff.”
“Plugging some kind of minisermon is his trademark with all of the weddings he conducts. Pastor MacIntosh is a nice guy, but according to him, I’m doomed to hell because I’m not a Christian.”
Brandon snorted. “You’re a good person. If God is love and forgives, then you’ll go to heaven.”
“Whew!” Della shoved back strands of hair blowing about her face. “We’ve never talked about religion. I don’t know why we have to believe in a bunch of stories in the Bible. Living right and doing good should be all that counts.”
“I’m all for America, family, and clean living.”
“I knew from the day we met you were a patriot and dedicated to your family. I could tell you didn’t smoke because you don’t smell icky. Today I found out you don’t drink.”
“Keeping a score card?” There was a wealth of meaning behind his question.
“That sounds calculating.”
“Hey�
�we’ve never shied away from a subject yet. Why start now?” He’d begun to think in terms of a future together, and he needed some reassurance that she felt likewise. Just how serious was she about making this relationship work?
“Okay.” She paused. “What do you want to know?”
Survival skills like reading body language, nuances of expressions, the slightest shift of posture or change in blink rate didn’t evaporate just because he’d left the SEALs. She’d folded her hands in her lap.
“Why are you withdrawing?”
“I’m not withdrawing.”
He pulled to the shoulder of the road and swept his hand through the air at her posture. “The way you’re sitting screams ‘Not a chance.’ ”
Her brown eyes grew huge as color washed her cheeks. Her lips parted, then closed, then parted once again as her chin lifted. “No, there isn’t a chance.”
The words hit him with the impact of a mortar shell.
Eight
“I just can’t.” She looked down then back at him. “I mean—well, I know it’s nothing to lots of people. I don’t feel that way, though. Call me old fashioned, but I’m waiting.”
Her words sank in, and Brandon finally started breathing again. “Waiting.”
She nodded jerkily. “For marriage.”
“That’s not where this was headed.”
Wariness still radiated from her darkened eyes, and the corners of her mouth tensed. If anything, she looked worse. Brandon quickly replayed what he’d just said and wanted to kick himself. She thinks I just said our relationship isn’t headed for marriage.
He reached over and rubbed his thumb over her whitened knuckles. “Face it, Della: After several dates, we’ve barely kissed. I got the picture at the very start, and it’s fine. Maybe not easy”—he gave her a lopsided smile—“but good stuff rarely comes easy.”
Her guard still didn’t drop. Her voice sounded hoarse as she said, “I’m not just playing hard-to-get, Brandon. It’s not a game.”
“I understood that.” He frowned. “You misunderstood me. What I’m saying is, I respect you. The first time we met, I said I didn’t compromise my values; I don’t ask others to ditch theirs either.”
As his words sank in, she slowly slumped back into the seat like a parachute losing wind. The sweetest smile he’d ever seen erased the anxiety lines bracketing her mouth.
“You got all intense, and I figured you were. . .”
“Putting the move on you?” he supplied when her voice died out.
She nodded.
“The chemistry’s all there, but that’s only part of the equation.” He leaned back against the door of the jeep and felt the whole vehicle rock as a truck whizzed past. “I don’t know where this relationship is going to end up, but I like where it’s headed so far.”
“Me, too.” She tilted her head to the side. “So what were you trying to find out about me?”
“Let’s see. . .” He drew the words out slowly to tease her. “I already know you don’t smoke. You favor one particular perfume that drives me nuts. You don’t drink. You’re highly intuitive and sensitive, which is probably why your shop is so successful. And your dad and brothers are overprotective.”
“How did you know that?”
“Because Gabe’s stalking toward us, and from the sounds of it, Justin’s coming up on my blind side.”
“Oh, no,” she groaned.
Brandon couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Then again, he should have. Wherever they went or whatever they did, one of Della’s brothers or her dad usually managed to make an appearance. He raised his voice. “Justin, I’m taking your sister to the grocery store.”
“Doesn’t look like it.” The reply sounded as if Justin was jogging closer.
“I’m going to talk her into making me some lasagna.”
“No way.” The brothers converged on the jeep at the same time. A greedy gleam replaced the anger on Gabe’s face.
“I told you they decimate the pan,” she folded her arms.
“So I’ll be sure we buy a second pan along with the fixings.”
Justin leaned against the car. “Just be careful. If Della offers you garlic bread, she’s trying to rope you into doing something.”
“Garlic bread, huh?”
“Homemade,” Gabe said succinctly.
“Didn’t know it would take that much time.” Brandon winked at her. “Guess I’ll just take you out for supper instead, Babe. Say good-bye to your brothers.”
“Bye, Justin. Bye, Gabe.” Barely restrained laughter bubbled under her words. Moments after Brandon put the jeep in gear, she cleared her throat. “They’re going to make you pay for this.”
He caught sight of her brothers in his rear view mirror and smiled. “Some things are worth fighting for.”
❧
“Camping?” Della repeated the word as if it came from a foreign language.
“Yeah. Jim and Katie, Val and Jordan are all on board. We’ll head out Saturday morning—just to the San Bernardino Mountains.”
“My shop—” She looked around then huffed when his grin didn’t fade one iota. “I can’t just shut down for four days.”
“You don’t have to. You’re already closed on Sundays and Mondays. Ellen Zobel can cover for you on Saturday, Tuesday, and Wednesday.”
“You already spoke with Van and Val’s mom?”
“Hold on.” He raised his hands as if to ward her off.
“This had better be a good explanation, because I’m pretty ticked off right about now.”
The rascal dared to wink at her. If she were a violent person, Della thought she might kick him in the shins just to watch that cocky smile fade. He had no call to go arrange things regarding her business.
“Nathan brought Ellen by my worksite. He said it was to let her see the house, but I think he did it so I couldn’t deck him for telling me he’s shutting my site down for half a week so he can swipe my men. Ellen volunteered.”
She folded her arms and arched a brow. “Before or after you asked?”
“How would I have known she’s filled in for you in the past? Come on, Della. We’ll have fun.”
“Fun.”
His head dipped and rose once in a display of pure, arrogant assurance. “I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”
“I’ll embarrass you,” she warned. Secretly, she longed to go on the trip, but she felt obliged to confess something. “I’ve never been camping.”
“Starlight. Campfire. Fresh air. . .”
“Dirt, spiders, and wild animals. . .”
He leaned so close, his breath teased across her face as he whispered, “Hot cocoa and s’mores.”
“Oh, that’s not fair.” She laughed. “You know I can’t turn down chocolate.”
“I know.” He kissed her then straightened up. “I’ll bet you have a few dozen things to tend to before we leave. Don’t worry about gear. Just stuff a few shirts and a pair of jeans into a pillowcase.”
“I have a sleeping bag.”
“Fine. We’re on.”
❧
“We’re off!” she called to her father as she bounced down the stairs.
Brandon met her with a look of utter disbelief. “What is that?”
“My sleeping bag.”
He snatched it from her, snorted in derision, and planted it on the floor in the corner.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Everything.”
Della sat down on the steps and gave him a disgruntled look. “You said the same thing about how I ran.”
“We fixed that. We’ll fix this, too.” He plucked her up and headed toward the door then stopped at the sight of a bulging suitcase.
“You are not ‘fixing’ that. I’ve cut it down to the absolute bare essentials.”
“I’ve lived for a month out of a pack with less stuff than that, and my gear included a tent and sleeping bag.”
“Men don’t use curling irons or makeup.”
&
nbsp; “I carried camo face paint.” He let out a world-weary sigh. “And you can ditch the curling iron because we’re not going to have electricity.”
“Nope. It’s butane.” She grabbed the handle and started to tow the suitcase over the threshold. “I thought of everything.”
He shut the door and muttered, “You’re taking everything.”
After a quick stop at a surplus place where Brandon gave her a crash course on thermal ratings on sleeping bags, showed her how to judge quality of sleeping pads, and extolled the virtues of a few other doodads, they headed for the campground.
“Jim’s flight was overbooked. He’s getting in on a noon flight, so he and Katie will be here by supper. As soon as Val finishes her shift at the hospital, she and Jordan will come. We’re going to select and establish a site.”
Once they reached the mountains, Della couldn’t sit still. “Look! Oh, it’s beautiful here!”
“Yeah, but there’s no water source.”
She gave him a horrified look. “You’re taking me someplace without plumbing?”
“Rustic accommodations.”
After digesting that unwelcome and euphemistic explanation, Della decided to be a good sport. She pointed out other possible campsites.
“Not protected from the wind. Tents will blow over. . . . Too close to the creek, and the water’s barely moving. Bugs would eat us alive after sunset.”
Just about when she despaired of ever finding a place he’d find satisfactory, Della called out, “Wait! There.” She pointed out the open window to her right.
Brandon steered the jeep into a clearing, scanned the area, and nodded. “See? All you needed was to know what to look for. Great choice.”
He made the chores fun. A natural-born teacher, he’d show her how to do things and explain why it had to be done in that particular way. Everything from pounding tent stakes in at an angle to where to build a fire turned into an opportunity to learn and work side-by-side. Brandon didn’t treat her like a fancy china doll that had to be cosseted—he treated her like a capable, thinking woman. No one had ever accepted her just as she was instead of trying to squeeze her into a mold and make her play a role. With Brandon, she felt free to be herself. He made it safe and fun to try new things.
Love Worth Finding Page 5
