by Jill Shalvis
Raina had done her two walls Raina style. One was a rainbow, the other a corkboard, upon which she’d hung every single one of Brynn’s questionable achievements over the years, including all her “participation” awards for everything she’d ever failed at, and there’d been many, many things.
Brynn did an about-face and headed back out to the living room. Olive was standing on the couch rearranging the pictures above it according to Raina, who stood in the middle of the living room giving instructions.
“And we’re doing this again why?” Olive asked, removing the last picture from the wall.
“You know why. I promised my sixteen Instagram followers.” Raina flicked a red reflector light on the now bare wall so Catherine could chase it. “Start recording, please.”
Olive pulled out her phone to capture a video of Catherine the Great Cat chasing the light.
For Raina’s sixteen Instagram followers.
Love was very strange.
Backing out of the living room unseen, Brynn was in her bedroom again, halfway through a buttermilk glazed, when she caught a shadow moving in the space between the bottom of her door and the hardwood floor.
Four feet. Two bare, two in heels.
She chomped on her donut, hoping the sugar would miraculously lower the blood pressure that her moms were keeping at stroke levels.
“Hello?” Raina called out.
Brynn bit her lower lip.
“Darling?” This from Olive.
Never alone . . .
Sure, she’d promised herself no more decisions, especially any life-altering ones, but this seemed like an emergency situation as it affected her mental health. Setting the donut down, she pulled out her phone and sent a text.
BRYNN: So here’s the thing. I recently promised myself no more life-altering decisions until I grew the hell up and could stop ruining my own life. So I need a life-altering decision-making committee.
ELI: What are the requirements?
BRYNN: They have to have my best interests at heart.
ELI: I could do that.
BRYNN: You think you can make decisions for me that will only be in my best interests?
ELI: Try me.
BRYNN: First of all, why did you not tell me your roommate was Kinsey? Were you being manipulative, or an asshole?
ELI: I deserve that. And I’m sorry I blindsided you. I didn’t think you’d even give it a shot if you knew. She doesn’t exactly present well. Can we still be friends?
BRYNN: To be determined.
ELI: Fair. And second of all?
BRYNN: I need out of my moms’ house before I lose the rest of my marbles. I’ve searched and searched, but there’s nothing I can afford. Except . . .
ELI: Here. If it helps, I can tell you it’s the right decision.
BRYNN: How do I know that?
ELI: Because your life-altering decision-making committee can one hundred percent assure you it is. Do we have a deal?
Brynn eyed the box of donuts.
ELI: If it makes you feel better, we could pinky swear on it.
In summer camp, pinky swearing had been a big thing. If you broke a pinky swear, you were never trusted again. And she had to admit, Eli had never broken a pinky swear. She looked at her phone. Once again, he was being patient, allowing her time, something that she had to admit was very new and very welcome.
BRYNN: Okay. I’m in.
ELI: Great. What do you need?
BRYNN: A lobotomy.
BRYNN SHOOK HER head at herself the entire drive through Wildstone and down the highway a few miles to the beach exit. She was still shaking her head at herself when she parked in front of the house she hadn’t imagined she’d ever see again.
It was a classic New England style, in ocean blue with white trim around the windows and a large deck that held a grill and a porch swing, along with a table and Adirondack chairs, all looking well lived in and loved.
It was dusk, and she knew there was nowhere prettier on earth than Wildstone at dusk. The sun was a huge, bright-red ball low on the horizon, flirting with the water’s edge, a few streaky clouds teasing the sun, the water’s whitecaps sparkling like diamonds.
She stood there at the end of the driveway staring at the gorgeous view and actually felt her blood pressure lower just a little bit. Not her pulse, though. Nope, that was still kicking from nerves.
Then she felt a hand slide under the strap of her duffel bag and remove it from her shoulder. She whipped around and Eli smiled.
“Sorry,” he said, and shouldered her bag. “It looked heavy.”
“What’s heavy is my life.”
He nodded like he understood that all too well, and she let her eyes wander over him, taking in the battered work boots, the faded and ripped jeans riding low on his hips, and the thin, olive drab cotton of the T-shirt with some complicated science formula on it stretched over broad shoulders. His hair was wet, like he’d just showered, but the sexy stubble on his jaw said he hadn’t shaved. He was barefoot and wearing a pair of reading glasses. Be still her heart. A sexy nerd.
A bark sounded, followed by paws scrabbling for purchase against the floor.
“Brace yourself,” Eli warned mildly.
What looked like a huge yellow polar bear came barreling out of the house. Mini. She gave another happy bark and started to jump on Brynn, but Eli stopped her with a calm but firm “Down.”
Mini sat, ears flapping, tongue lolling, an actual smile curving her canine mouth, which adorably wrinkled her face.
“If you remind her not to jump before she gets to you, you’ve got a better shot at not getting knocked flat on your ass,” he said. “Also beware of sitting on the ground to pet her. She’ll plant herself on you like you’re a dog bed.”
“Anything else?”
“Don’t leave anything where she can get it. She prefers to chew high-quality stuff too, like AirPods and expensive shoes.”
They both looked at Mini, whose tail was sweeping the ground. Brynn patted her on the head. “But she looks so cute.”
“Yeah, don’t let that face fool you. She’s just on a break between bouts of destruction.”
Suddenly Mini jumped up, snapping her jaw at thin air.
“Sky raisin,” Eli said.
“What?”
He lifted a shoulder. “She loves flies, thinks they’re a delicacy.”
Brynn gave a shudder. “That’s gross.”
“Agreed. That’s why we call them sky raisins—not as disgusting sounding. Also, FYI, she’s allergic to the jalapeño sky raisins, so we have to keep an eye on her when she’s outside.”
“Jalapeño sky raisins?”
“Bees and wasps.”
She laughed as Mini moved to Eli, the clear love of her life, leaning against him, knocking him back a step. With a laugh, he crouched low and gave her a hug. Mini melted to the ground, a puddle of love, where Eli obliged her with a full belly rub before looking up at Brynn. “Welcome home, by the way.”
She bit her lower lip. “I still have reservations.” Not the least of which were her conflicting emotions about the man now straightening back up to his full height and, at just over six feet, also looking like the sexiest welcoming committee she’d ever seen.
“I get it,” he said, and for a moment Brynn freaked, thinking she’d spoken out loud. “Your reservations are founded,” he said quietly, “but I hope you’ll be happy here. Come on in. Max is home. Kinsey’s on a date.”
“She dates?”
Eli laughed. “She wouldn’t call it a date. But the guy she’s with, Deck, absolutely would. They’ve been doing their thing for nearly a year now, and no one, not even Deck, has got the balls to tell Kinsey she’s in a relationship.”
“Huh,” she said, processing something else, something she hadn’t really thought she needed to know until right that minute. “So you two really aren’t a thing.”
Their eyes met and held. “Nope.”
And again her mouth disconnected from
her brain and acted independently. “Do you date?”
“Other than my dog?” He shrugged. “When the stars align. You?”
“Same,” she said softly.
He smiled. “What’s an ideal date for you?”
Someone who doesn’t con me out of my things and my self-esteem . . . “Anything that involves food, real food, and hopefully dessert, where my date’s impressed by my ability to eat an entire cake and not at all disgusted.”
He laughed, and Mini barked in excitement. Then, from a house down the street, a woman and a little girl came out. The little girl went skipping down the sidewalk and Mini froze, whined, and then leapt right into Eli’s arms.
“Aw, I’ve got you,” he murmured. “You’re okay.”
“I thought you’re supposed to tell her ‘down.’”
“She’s scared. Today at the dog park, another little girl—and I mean tiny, like she was maybe two years old—chased her, and now she wants to be carried whenever she sees a little kid.”
“But the girl’s not even looking this way.”
“Tell that to Mini.”
Brynn looked into the most devastatingly sweet brown eyes she’d ever seen and stepped closer. “Aw, it’s okay,” she whispered, cupping that incredibly expressive face in her hands. “I’m scared of little kids too.”
“Aren’t you a kindergarten teacher?” Eli asked, sounding amused.
“Yeah. And your point?” Smiling, she lifted her head and froze, because she hadn’t realized how close to him she’d moved. They were toe to toe, and if he dipped his head, they’d be nose to nose.
He didn’t look perturbed by the nearness in the slightest. Just smiled, bent to kiss his dog on the top of her head, and then set her down. “Listen up,” he told Mini as he led them into the house. “Brynn’s one of us now, so if you could refrain from eating her food, making yourself at home on her bed, or farting when she’s in the room, that’d be great.”
“Does she do all those things?”
From the vicinity of Mini’s hindquarters came an unmistakable sound.
Brynn laughed.
“I assume that answers your question,” Eli said, fanning the air. “Just don’t feed her any human food. Hard to believe, but it gets worse when you do.”
The room she’d rented had a window that looked out onto a side yard. Lots of wild grass, but beyond that she could see the cliffs and the ocean. She’d have stayed here for the view alone, but then Eli dropped her duffel bag onto the bed and pointed to the attached bathroom, which held a big, fat, porcelain self-standing tub between the shower and the sink.
“Oh my God,” she whispered reverently, and moved closer, running her fingers along the edge. “I just fell in love.”
“That was easy.”
She slid him a look. “With your tub.”
He grinned, and gestured to the closed door at the other end of the tub. “That leads to another bedroom.”
Her eyes went to the door. Oh, boy. “Kinsey’s, I presume.”
“She loves baths too.” Eli rubbed a hand over his scruffy jaw. “Maybe we should write up a schedule.”
“We’re grown-ups,” Brynn heard herself say. “I’m sure we can figure it out.” But actually, she wasn’t really sure at all.
“Where’s the rest of your stuff?”
She hesitated, not wanting to admit it was still in Long Beach. She didn’t want to tell him any of that story for lots of reasons. “In my trunk,” she finally said.
“Need help unloading it?”
“No, but thanks.” Even if her things had been in her trunk, she’d want to leave them there for now. No sense rushing into something that might not work out.
Especially when nothing else ever had.
That was what happened when one fell for a con artist; you lost your perspective and self-trust. Because everything felt like a mirage now. Her relationships, her sense of home, her sense of security and well-being. Everything.
Eli looked like maybe he wanted to say more, but he didn’t. He just gave her a nod and headed out of her room, stopping to look back. “Want dinner?”
“Oh. Um, I don’t want to intrude . . .”
“You’re not. Max does most of the cooking. He’s got the barbeque going. Burgers or hot dogs?”
Her stomach rumbled. A burger. No, a hot dog. Wait. Maybe both? But that would mean she was mooching too much food. God, look at her. Such an easy decision, and she couldn’t even make it. “I don’t know.”
“We’ve also got vegan burgers in the freezer, left over from someone Max was dating, but fair warning, they suck.”
“No, it’s not that.”
He studied her for a moment. “Maybe choosing between a burger and a hot dog is one of those . . . life-altering decisions you need your committee for.”
She let out the breath she’d been holding, because she didn’t know how he possibly could, but he seemed to understand. “Maybe.”
“I get low blood sugar when I don’t eat,” he said. “And once that happens, hanger sets in and it’s hard to recover.”
“Hanger?”
“Hunger plus anger.”
She laughed.
Smiling, he said, “Just give me a little hint and your committee will take it from here.”
“I like both burgers and hot dogs.”
He nodded. “Both it is, then.”
That got another smile out of her. He’d made it easy. But she had no such illusions about any of the rest of this being so easy.
Chapter 7
From eleven-year-old Brynn’s summer camp journal:
Dear Moms (it’s really just you, dear journal, because this can’t go to my moms, they’ll worry about me),
This year’s veggie of choice is creamed spinach. Yeah, it’s as disgusting as it sounds. I tried to tell the counselors that you like me to eat only fresh vegetables, but they didn’t care. I tried to tell them how much sodium we were consuming, and that it canceled out the goodness, but deaf ears . . .
I still get picked last for teams, in case you were wondering. It was Eli who picked me this time, and he apologized, but I’m still mad.
Oh, and don’t you worry, Kinsey is still mean. She didn’t hide my glasses this time, but she still can’t do any of the night activities, so we’re the only two stuck in the cabin.
She pretends I don’t exist.
Works for me.
Eli sneaked me a candy bar. I think he really is sorry, but I’m not going to forgive him until tomorrow so I can have another candy bar.
Oh, and I still want to come home.
Love,
Brynn
BRYNN FOLLOWED THE scent of barbeque through the warm, cozy house, loving the feel of the creaking wood floors beneath her feet. She ended up in the kitchen, where Eli introduced her to his brother.
Max took one look at her and smiled at her the same way Eli had when they’d first seen each other again. Like it was incredibly amazing and touching to see her, and she realized he knew about her, while she knew nothing about him.
“Nice to have you,” Max said genuinely.
Mini was sitting on a dog bed in the corner, chewing on a bone, but stopped chewing to greet Brynn with wild enthusiasm, including a chin-to-forehead lick, even though she’d just seen her five minutes ago.
“Sign of approval,” Eli said.
She sensed the brothers staring at each other over her head, but when she pulled back, she couldn’t tell what was going on.
Mini was head-butting Brynn’s hand, trying to get more pets, and Brynn laughed. “I’m getting the feeling she loves everyone.”
Max touched his finger to his nose in confirmation. “Grab a plate, darlin’.”
The master of pretending everything was fine and normal, she did. They ate on the porch. She consumed both a burger and a hot dog, and found herself laughing and relaxing with the brothers in a way she hadn’t let herself in . . . well, forever.
After, she insisted on helping clean u
p. “I like a woman who can eat,” Max said appreciatively, drying the dishes she washed while Eli cleaned the grill.
Max looked a lot like his brother. Matching searing gray eyes, sun-kissed brown hair that seemed to have no interest in anything other than doing its own thing in a sexily mussed kind of way, a fit body that said he spent a lot of time doing physical things, and a smile that could stop hearts. He was also very young, though that mischief in his eyes said he could compensate for his age with plenty of experience.
Eli came back into the kitchen and pointed at his younger brother. “Stop that.”
“Stop what?” Max asked with a mock innocence that had Eli shaking his head.
“You know what. Don’t flirt with her. Roommates are off-limits.”
“Since when?” Max wanted to know.
“Since the last three roommates you single-handedly chased away once you broke their hearts. No more. Besides, Brynn is smarter than you are, she can see right through you.”
Max looked at Brynn.
Brynn nodded sagely.
Max laughed. “Okay, I’ll give you that much. But it would’ve been fun.”
Brynn had no doubt.
When they’d finished cleaning up, Brynn headed out of the kitchen. Knowing she was starting a new job tomorrow had put butterflies in her tummy. “Thanks for dinner, but I’ve got to get some sleep.”
“Let me help you bring the rest of your stuff in first,” Eli said.
She shook her head. “Thanks, but that’s okay, it’s not important.”
Those fascinating gray eyes seemed to be able to see inside her, but she just smiled and made her way to her new bedroom to avoid more talk.
And a little bit to avoid Kinsey, as well, who presumably was in the car she’d just heard pull into the driveway.
She used their bathroom quickly, and then turned off her light and got into bed.
Two hours later, she was still staring up at the ceiling. She couldn’t sleep, and she didn’t want to think about why. When her stomach growled, she sat up and listened.
The house was quiet.
Assuming the coast was clear, she slipped on her favorite baggy sweats and tiptoed out.
