Chapter 42
Thunder rumbled, pulling Nate’s attention to the darkening skies. Looked like he hadn’t finished with the gutters a moment too soon. Would’ve finished sooner if he hadn’t kept stumbling across wasp nests in the eaves.
He twisted his arm to peek at the swollen bump above his right elbow. At least it was only the one sting—and at least he’d been the one to receive it. Taking care of the wasp nests had been the easy part. Convincing McKenna to let him handle the situation on his own? Not so much.
He started down the ladder, shaking his head at their conversation a little bit ago.
“Wasps? Oh my goodness, Nate. That’s terrible. They could sting someone. They could sting a guest. They could sting Harry.”
“I know. Which is why I’m getting rid of them.
Please don’t lean out the window like that.
” It was one thing for her to yell indecipherable things from a downstairs window.
Leaning halfway out a second-floor window to keep telling him how much wonderful publicity some guy named Harry was going to bring his mom’s B&B was a different matter.
Wasn’t the excitement he minded. More like the twenty-something-foot fall if that excitement pushed McKenna over the edge. “We’ll talk about Harry later. Just close the window and go back to the meeting.”
“The meeting ended. Everyone’s leaving.”
“Then start marinating the two steaks I pulled out of the freezer and set in the fridge yesterday. They should be thawed by now. Thought we’d grill out later.”
“Even with a storm coming?”
“It should be moved on by then.”
“Okay. But just the two steaks?”
“Gus and Georgie aren’t joining us tonight.”
“Gotcha.” She disappeared, only for her wild pom-pom ponytail of curls to pop out a moment later, followed by way too much of her torso. “Are you sure you can handle the wasp nests by yourself? Because I don’t mind helping. I’m willing to take a sting or two for Harry.”
“You’re not taking any stings.”
“I could cause a diversion.”
“You’re already causing a diversion.” And he was about to tumble off the ladder because of it. “McKenna—honey—I mean it. Go back inside and keep the window closed.”
“Fine.” She disappeared, only to reappear a second later. “But for the record, don’t think for a second that I missed the way you called me honey just now.”
“I was talking about the bees.”
“Sure you were. Better watch yourself, Nate. One of these days you may just wake up and discover you’re starting to like me.”
Thunder rumbled and sprinkles started dotting his glasses, pulling Nate back to the present as he carried the ladder to the toolshed. Starting to like McKenna?
The truth buzzed inside his veins that he’d gone way past the point of starting to like her.
But with his new job waiting for him back in New York, and her heart set on going to Los Angeles, what did it matter if he liked her? Not like he could do anything about his feelings.
And somehow that stung worse than anything.
Later that evening, Nate lowered the lid and checked his watch. Shouldn’t be much longer before the steaks were ready. He waved off a plume of smoke from the grill and let his gaze rest on the pale arch of a double rainbow above the neighbor’s barn.
Talk about the perfect evening to grill out.
Now that the storm had moved on, cooling the temps from stifling hot to bearably hot, all the flowers in his mom’s garden had perked up with vibrant hues of red, yellow, and purple, adding a nice pop of color to the surrounding pastures glistening with green.
A beautiful sight, even if the burst of rain meant he’d have to mow sooner rather than later.
Nate eyed the now-clean gutters running along the back of the house. At least he’d knocked that one off the to-do list. Tomorrow, he’d mow while the workers his mom hired for the glass cottage placed the foundation.
Glass cottage. He tried not to shake his head.
Sure, it’d probably look nice, but shouldn’t his mom be more concerned with the functional upkeep aspects of the B&B?
But hey, if she thought goats, chickens, and fancy she-sheds would help draw people in, who was he to argue?
Same for bringing in some celebrity named Harry. Whatever made his mom happy.
And apparently, Harry made his mom happy. Nate’s right ear was still recovering from all the shrieking she did on the phone a little bit ago when he mentioned the news.
He checked his watch again just as McKenna’s laugh, thankfully a much gentler sound to his ears, drew his attention to the back door where she held a lemonade pitcher in one hand and pressed his phone against her ear with the other.
“Oh, it’s no problem at all. Believe me. I’m just as excited as anyone.”
She tossed Nate a dazzling smile on her way to the picnic bench in the backyard. Nate’s gaze lingered on her red curls, then made a slow travel down her plain white T-shirt and cut-off jean shorts all the way to her sandals.
When his mom called to let him know Aunt Susie’s surgery had gone fine and she was back in recovery, McKenna had asked to speak to her. Nate never imagined that twenty minutes later they’d still be chatting and giggling over Harry.
Another laugh brought his focus back to her face where her eyes—almost emerald this evening—sparkled with amusement. “Really? Interesting. I never would have guessed that about him.”
Why did he get the feeling they weren’t talking about Harry anymore?
“Aw,” McKenna said, flashing Nate a grin on her way back toward the kitchen door. “I bet he looked adorable as a panda bear. How old do you say he was at the time? Fifteen?”
Nate aimed his tongs at McKenna. “Hand over the phone. Right now.”
“Oh, yes. I’d love to see those photo albums.”
“You two are done.”
“They’re in your bedroom you say?”
Nate lunged after her, but she spun out of reach and pointed at the grill as she lowered the phone from her mouth. “Might want to pay attention to the steaks, instead of my legs,” she said with a sassy smirk.
Busted.
Nate snapped his tongs at her, then stepped back to the grill. Smoke billowed out as he flipped their steaks over. “For the record, I was only thirteen,” he hollered to the tune of more giggles.
Didn’t take long before he and McKenna were seated at the picnic bench digging into their steaks, tossed salad, and honey garlic roasted potatoes. Before Nate knew it, he was pointing his fork at a nearly empty plate. “Nice job on the potatoes.”
“Ditto on the steaks,” McKenna said, lifting her lemonade glass in a toast.
“Thanks,” he said, tapping his glass against hers. “I was a little worried I overdid them, since someone kept distracting me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. All I was doing was having a lovely conversation with your mom.”
“Right. And just how many secrets did she spill about me during this lovely conversation?”
“Not enough,” McKenna answered, hiding a playful smile behind her napkin as she wiped off her mouth. “Pretty sure I’ll be calling her back for more.”
“Does this mean I get a twenty-minute tell-all conversation with your mom at some point?”
McKenna shrugged. “Only if you’ve got a direct line up to heaven.”
“Oh.” Had she mentioned that to him before? He didn’t think so. “Sorry. I had no idea.”
She shrugged again, dropping her wadded napkin onto her empty plate. “It’s okay.”
Nate finished his last bite of steak, then reached for his lemonade to wash it down. “What about your dad?”
“He’s gone too. That’s the short version.”
“And the long version?”
“I doubt you want to get into all of that.”
A chicken wandered past, fluttering and clucking her displeasure over all the new puddles. As McKenna smiled over the chicken’s antics, Nate took advantage of her distraction to study her face and how the sunset highlighted every one of her freckles and set her copper curls on fire.
He pushed his empty plate back and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I do, actually.”
“What?”
“Want to get into all of that with you.”
“Why?”
“Because . . .” Oh why not just admit it? “I like you.”
His candidness must’ve caught her by surprise. She froze with her lemonade glass in front of her mouth as a pretty blush stained her cheeks pink. But it was the soft smile that encouraged him to keep going.
“And the truth is I don’t really have a great relationship with my dad.
” Nate breathed out a humorless laugh. “What am I saying? I don’t have a relationship with my dad.
Period. So . . . yeah. I’m actually really curious to hear what your relationship is like with your dad.
I mean, that is if you want to talk about it.
I understand if maybe that’s not something you like talking about. ”
It sure wasn’t something Nate usually liked talking about.
“I don’t mind talking about it.” She finished her drink and lowered her empty glass to the table. “With you, at least.”
Nate held her gaze, not sure why her soft disclaimer made him feel like he’d just won the lottery. But it did.
“Because the truth is I’ve never really had a relationship with my dad, either. Biological or adopted.”
Nate leaned closer. “You’re adopted?”
McKenna nodded, refilling her lemonade. “Since I never knew my biological parents, I like to tell people I’m the tall, redheaded daughter of Jamie Frasier that Diana Gabaldon forgot to include in her Outlander books.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind.”
He’d look that up later. “So was your sister, the one I met at the river, also adopted?”
“Bobbi? No. She was my adopted parents’ biological daughter.
Which is why losing that ring is such a big deal.
I mean, it’d be a big deal anyway, but this ring also happens to be a family heirloom on her dad’s side.
It was the ring he gave to our mom when he proposed.
My mom made me promise right before she died to keep it safe so that Bobbi could receive it for her own proposal someday. ”
“I see now why you wanted to puke over losing it.”
“And that’s not even counting the ridiculously expensive diamond Oliver added to it.”
“Right. So . . . tell me again why you decided to hide it in my pants?”
“Hey.” She tossed her wadded-up napkin at him with a smirk. “Can we please not rehash my poor decision-making skills from that day on the bridge?”
“Remember when you kissed me?”
“I feel like you’re rehashing.”
“I’ll never forget the way your hands were all over me.”
“You know what?” She swung her long legs over the bench. “I’m finding that photo album your mom mentioned. You want to rehash something? Let’s rehash your teen years. How does that sound, Mr. Panda Bear?”
“Okay, okay.” Nate swiveled out of his seat, hands raised in surrender.
He walked around and met her on the other side of the picnic table with a grin.
“No more rehashing.” At least when it came to his teenage years and the bridge.
He still had plenty of other things he wanted to hash out with McKenna.
But she seemed more focused at the moment on his arm. “Did you get stung?” She grabbed his forearm and angled her head to the side. “Oh my goodness, you did. Why didn’t you say something?”
“It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not. Look how swollen it is.” Her fingers brushed over the tender area above his elbow. “I’m getting some ice.”
“I’ll grab some later. Right now I need to take care of the grill, then lock all the chickens in the coop for the night. We certainly don’t want another massacre, do we?”
“Fine, but as soon as you’re done, I’m making you put some ice on it because I know for a fact that you won’t do it later.”
He grabbed her hand before she could pass by him on her way to the kitchen. “If I promise to let you ice my arm, will you tell me more about your dad?”
Her gaze bounced off their joined hands back to his eyes. “Really? You want to hear more? Why?”
He leaned closer and whispered. “Did you miss the part where I said that I liked you?”
That pink blush on her cheeks deepened another shade as her lips lifted in a shy smile. “No. No, I did not.”
“Then how about we sit out on the front porch after I’m done?”
She bit her bottom lip, then nodded her head. “Okay. I’ll clean up the dishes and check on the goats, then meet you out there. With ice.” She pointed a finger at him.
“Perfect.” Maybe nothing real could develop between them this summer. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t get to know the real McKenna in the meantime, did it?