10. Brody #2
“What am I, a fancy salad?” I ask.
On the mainland, they’d say chopped liver, but Newfoundlanders love chopped liver so that comparison doesn’t work. Fancy salads, we don’t like them so much. Except for Ma.
She ushers Jami down the hall, leaving Jaxon and me standing on the porch. I glance at him. “It’s like we’re yesterday’s news,” I mutter.
“Hey, at least this will get them off my single back,” Jaxon says.
“Really? That’s what you think? Did you just meet them?” I ask.
Jaxon laughs and throws his hand over my shoulder, then goes serious. “Wait…why aren’t they after you?” His lips tighten as he nods, the answer dawning. “Right.”
Elise.
“There’s a window, though,” I say, tapping my fitness watch like it holds the secrets of the universe. “But it’s closing fast. Soon they’ll be all over me to get back out there, too.”
I step in, and he follows. Voices echo through the house, and I nod toward the chaos. “Let’s go save her, shall we?”
We hang our coats, toss hats and mitts aside, and follow the trail of delicious smells: pot roast, roasted vegetables, and something sweet baking in the oven. Warmth and love fill the house—it’s everything I missed about these Sunday dinners when I was away.
“Hey, baby bro!” Sadie swoops in, arms around me. She pulls back just enough to pinch my side. “You’re getting too skinny. Ma, extra serving for the baby.”
I roll my eyes, catching Jami’s amused grin before I can respond. Then—chaos hits. Two miniature elephants come barreling into the kitchen.
“Uncle Brody!” they squeal.
I scan the kitchen. “Do you hear that noise?”
They run at me full throttle, each grabbing a leg. I start dragging them around, their squeals filling the room. I don’t miss Jami, standing off to the side, watching my family in awe and delight.
“Uncle Brody, we’re down here!” little Abby yells.
I cup my ear. “Did anyone else hear that?”
“Didn’t hear a thing,” Ma says, taking Jami’s coat and carrying it down the hall.
“Uncle Brody, it’s me,” Mason chirps. “Down here. Look!”
I start walking around the kitchen, dragging the miniature tornadoes with me.
Their laughter bounces off the walls, filling every corner, and I can’t help but grin.
My chest tightens in that familiar ache that only family can make.
I always thought I’d have kids of my own someday.
I like kids. I really do. But after Elise…
I don’t know what my future holds. Except maybe social leagues and pickleball tournaments.
And Jami…
Yeah. There’s always Jami.
Pretty little thing who’s watching me like I’m a circus act.
The girl I shouldn’t have kissed this week.
Twice.
Sweet little birdie who’ll be gone in a couple months.
Which is probably for the best.
“Sis, did you hear anything?” I ask Sadie, trying to sound casual.
She taps her chin, thoughtful. “Could’ve been mice.”
“Big mice,” Jami pipes in, stretching her arms wide.
I love that she’s playing along.
“Mice, huh? You know what we do with mice around these parts?” I crouch slightly, letting the suspense build.
“No, what?” Jami asks, leaning forward.
“We tickle them.”
I drop to the floor. The kids dive on top of me like tiny wrestling champions, fingers probing for every ticklish spot. I’m laughing so hard I can barely breathe.
“I surrender! I surrender!” I shout, gasping. Ma swoops in, scooping up Mason while Sadie grabs Abby.
“I think he’s had enough,” Sadie laughs, ruffling my hair as the kids cling to her instead.
Abby tugs her brother along. “Come on! I want to watch Mr. Whiffle!”
I glance over at Jami. She’s leaning against the counter, laughing, completely caught up in the chaos, and my chest tightens again, part amusement, part something I can’t name.
I stay on the floor for a moment, catching my breath as Jaxon heads to the fridge and pulls out two beers.
He’s officially a family member at this point, practically one of the chaotic tribe.
I glance at Jami and wonder if she’ll ever feel this comfortable in my childhood home, or is she just a guest in the circus?
Sadie hands her a glass of white wine, which, naturally, makes me want to kiss the taste off her lips again. I take a long pull from my bottle, and Jaxon extends a steadying hand, hauling me back to my feet.
“We’re here,” a voice sings from down the hall, boots stomping the mat.
“Who’s that?” Brody asks.
“Don’t be dense b’y. That’s Rachel,” Ma explains, all casual, as Rachel and Laci appear. “Nice for Laci to play with the kids.”
I glance at Jaxon. His eyes squeeze shut for a second.
Real subtle, Ma. Really subtle.
“Laci,” Ma says, crouching. “Why don’t you run into the living room? Abby and Mason are watching Mr. Whiffle.” Laci gives a shy nod and hustles off to the other room
“Thank you for the invite,” Rachel says.
“Of course, ducky. Any time,” Ma chirps grinning like the damn cat that ate the canary.
I lean in, feeling sorry for Jaxon, but at least she’s leaving Jami, and me alone. “Ma, you can’t—”
Before I can finish, the front door swings open again. “Ah, that would be Liam,” Ma says cheerfully.
“Who the hell is Liam?” I mutter. The only Liam I know is Liam Walsh, big city veterinarian, probably lives in a modern loft with a rescue retriever.
The perfect companion dog to a guy who’s always been perfect.
I don’t hate him. He’s a nice guy who does nice things.
A guy who excelled in school, in sports and in life in general. Everyone loved Liam Walsh.
Ma shakes her head. “By God, you’re dense today. You don’t remember Liam Walsh? James’s aunt’s nephew’s boy? Back in town to take over his father’s business. Single. Heard he just rescued a puppy.” She nudges me as footsteps draw closer. “Perfect man for Jami.”
So much for her leaving Jami alone tonight.
I turn just in time to see Liam walk into the kitchen. But it’s not just a walk. He commands the room. Every head swivels, even Jami’s, likely because he looks like he just stepped off the cover of a charity calendar.
And he’s holding a puppy.
The cutest.
Mother.
Fucking.
Puppy.
I’ve ever set eyes on.
And it’s a rescue.
I shouldn’t feel anything—especially jealousy—toward Mr. Hot Veterinarian (yes, I can admit that) whose good looks could have an animal (or human) in dream land faster than any anesthetics.
But I do.
And I’m really worried everyone in the room knows it.