4. Chapter Three #2
I prayed Doris had left something in the fridge. She knew I was a disaster in the kitchen.
I headed toward the kitchen, but the doorbell rang. Without thinking, I turned around and—just like I used to—slid across the marble entryway in my socks. It made me smile. For one glorious second, it felt good to be home.
Then, I had to go and open the large mahogany door.
And the smile vanished.
“Brady,” I sighed. “What are you doing here?”
Brady looked me over—old jeans, faded Auburn jersey. He probably recognized them. Pieces of the girl he used to know.
I followed his gaze down, and that’s when I saw her. A tiny ginger-haired girl, maybe five, peeked around his leg with wide, expectant eyes.
“Well,” he said, a little sheepishly, “I was telling my niece her favorite author was in town . . . and she insisted we come over and meet you.”
I looked again at her sweet face. Bright eyes. Missing front tooth. She was absolutely darling.
It was then that I realized this was a setup. I had a feeling I was about to be blackmailed—by a five-year-old and her uncle.
I smiled despite myself. “What’s your name, sugar?” I always loved the term of endearment I’d learned from my aunt.
She grinned, practically beaming. “I’m Caroline Jackson.”
Oh.
Not a niece by marriage. Not from his wife’s side. Which meant Brady wasn’t married. Not that it mattered. There were rules, and Jackson men couldn’t be trusted. He’d proved that. But that also meant one of Brady’s brothers had had an oops. Just like Brady had been. He was the baby by a long shot.
“Well, Caroline Jackson,” I said, opening the door fully, knowing it was best to just give in and get this over with—besides, she was too cute to turn away, “would you like to come in?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I loved her manners. “You can call me Miss Elle.”
“But Uncle Brady said you liked to be called Miss Ellie.”
I narrowed my eyes at him and glared.
This didn’t faze him in the slightest. Instead, he gave me that maddening smile of his I used to love so much.
I shook my head, ignoring him and focusing on Caroline. “Did he now?”
She nodded her head as cute as could be.
I led them into the drawing room. She sat down with her uncle on the velvet-covered couch while I took the chaise.
Brady looked way too comfortable sitting there. His eyes hadn’t stopped following me since I’d opened the door. It was disconcerting, to say the least. Honestly, I couldn’t understand why he was here.
“So, Caroline,” I said, trying to sound breezy and like my heart wasn’t pounding wildly out of control, “what else has your uncle told you about me?” I was curious to know. I couldn’t believe he talked about me at all.
Her entire face lit up like a tree on Christmas Eve. “He told me that you are the nicest and prettiest person he’s ever met and that you like Auburn just like me and my mommy.”
Surely, I heard her wrong. No Jackson liked Auburn. That was a cardinal sin.
“Sweetie,” I said slowly, blinking in confusion, “did you just say Auburn ?”
She nodded as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Yes, Miss Ellie. War Eagle! ” she shouted, beaming with pride.
I whipped my head toward Brady. He looked absolutely delighted—his eyes twinkling as he beamed at Caroline, and then at me. With that gaze.
I had to remind myself I hated him.
“Ellie,” he said casually, as though he hadn’t just detonated a family tradition, “Caroline’s daddy is Benjamin. He and her momma were married just over six years ago. Her name’s Kendra. She graduated from Auburn.”
Whoa. I needed a moment to absorb all that.
What happened to Miss Teen USA—the one Benjamin had been married to before?
And why in the world was he now married to a woman who wore orange and blue on purpose ?
“Do your parents know?” I asked, trying to keep the edge out of my voice and mostly failing.
Brady laughed. “Of course they know. I told you—things have changed.”
I seriously doubted it. She was probably like Miss Universe or something. A onetime exception. And I could guarantee you—her last name wasn’t Eaton.
I turned my attention back to my little admirer. “How old are you, Caroline?”
“I’m five and I’m in kindergarten—and Uncle Brady says I go to the same school you went to.”
“You live in Kaysville?” My voice cracked slightly.
“Yep,” she chirped.
I looked at Brady again, utterly bewildered.
“Benjamin is the president of the bank now,” he offered casually.
Maybe I should’ve talked to Aunt Lu a little more about what I was walking into.
Just then, my stomach betrayed me with a loud growl. Wonderful.
“Excuse me,” I said, mortified. “I was just about to get something to eat when you came over.”
“You can cook now?” Brady teased.
Oh, he remembered. Those disastrous cookie attempts. He’d eaten every last crumb and claimed they were his favorite—even when they tasted like sugary drywall.
“No,” I admitted. “I was hoping Doris had left something for me.”
Brady gazed at me with that familiar gleam. “I was going to take Caroline for pizza after this. Come with us.”
Caroline jumped up and bounced on her toes. “Please, please, please!”
I looked from her sweet little face to her uncle’s. The Eatons and the Jacksons didn’t mix. Rules. History. Heartache.
“I wish I could,” I said carefully. “But I have three trees to decorate tonight.”
“Ahh,” Caroline sighed dramatically.
Brady grinned—mischievous and far too charming. “Caroline, I think we should order pizza and help Miss Ellie decorate her trees. What do you think?”
No. Absolutely not. Brady Jackson was not going to help me do anything. He’d already crossed a boundary just being here.
Caroline ran up and grabbed my hand, eyes wide. “Could we?” she asked, voice dripping with sweetness and innocent hope.
I looked at Brady—who was still grinning like a fool—and then at the little girl clutching my hand, that precious gap-toothed smile shining like twinkle lights.
I will not let them stay. I don’t care how cute she is. I will not—
She wrapped her tiny little arms around me, and I fell for it, hook, line, and sinker.
“Of course, honey.” I found myself saying almost against my will.
Brady winked at me.
I curled my lips.
I still hated him.