Chapter Eight #2
Right now, sitting next to her in his truck on his way to the family home for a cookout, was not the time. But remembering the feel of her lips against his had a way of sneaking up on him at inopportune times.
Minutes from introducing Lucy to all three of his brothers was definitely an inopportune time.
He should have waited to kiss her until after she’d met his brothers. They knew him too well, and he wasn’t going to be able to hide the chemistry between him and Lucy. Actually, the harder he tried, the more they would notice something was up, and they’d start paying attention.
“Why are you antsy?” she asked from the passenger seat, breaking into his thoughts.
“I’m not.”
“You’re drumming your fingers on the steering wheel, and you never do that.” She pointed a finger in his direction. “You know, Lavinia hates that. Don’t do that at the Scuttlebutt.”
Nick was so confused. He was often around Lucy, but this was next level. “Who is Lavinia?”
“The ghost. At the bakery.” She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Her picture’s right there on the wall.”
“Right, the whoopie pie lady.”
He took a right turn onto a dirt road, and then a left into his driveway. Four trucks made parking tight, but he pulled into his usual spot—farthest from the door because he was nice like that.
“Wow, what a pretty house. It’s not what I was expecting.”
He looked at the classic sage green Cape with the deep porch, trying to see it through her eyes. The early-season perennials were starting to bloom in the beds around the foundation, and he thought it looked pretty. “Should I be offended?”
“I thought it would be like a square house, probably painted gray, with lots of… I don’t know—man stuff.”
“I don’t even know what that means, but we do have a grill in the backyard and a riding mower in the shed.” He glanced sideways at her. “Don’t ever assume the toilet seat’s down, though. My mom gave up nagging about that by the time Theo was out of diapers.”
“It must be really cool to have a home you grew up in. I guess Gran’s cottage is the closest thing for me, and, well, you know how often I got to come here.”
“It felt pretty small for a while. It’s a three bedroom with a full bathroom upstairs and a half bath downstairs.
Sometimes, especially during our teen years, it didn’t even feel like we had elbow room.
” He chuckled, shaking his head. “We did bunk beds, with me and Gray in one room and Beck and Theo in the other. Me leaving for college was one of the best days of Gray’s life. ”
But he didn’t want to keep going down that conversational road because it dead-ended with Nick getting called home—and back to the room he shared with his brother—and realizing immediately they needed him to stick around.
“I’ve never shared a room,” Lucy told him.
And Nick’s mind started spinning. Like ever? Obviously she’d had relationships in the past, but had she ever lived with anybody? Hell, had she been married in the past? He wanted to ask, but it was also none of his business.
“I don’t remember having my own room, which I did until I was six,” he said instead. “But I remember the day they moved Gray into my room because Mom was about to have Beck.”
She nodded, and then gave him a thoughtful look. “Are you putting off getting out of the truck for some reason?”
Busted. To be fair, it wasn’t only a matter of putting off introductions. It also felt good to reminisce about his younger days, when the house was full.
They got out of the truck, and he led her around the house to the backyard, where everybody was already gathered. Nobody was at the grill yet, though, so they weren’t running as late as he’d hoped. The less time they spent here, the better.
Their parents had loved cookouts and had many friends, so a large patio made from paving stones extended from the deck steps. The grill was massive, and there were several tables with chairs, along with Adirondack chairs in conversational groupings.
It was overkill for how they used the space now—just whoever happened to be home throwing some meat on the grill—but so far none of them had suggested selling any of it.
“Okay, so the resemblance is strong in this family,” Lucy said as soon as they turned the corner.
“Yeah. Not only is it pretty obvious we’re brothers, but it was very obvious who our dad was, too. Mom always griped about how she had to carry and deliver us, but we got nothing from her.” He shrugged. “But I see her in my brothers’ facial expressions all the time.”
Lucy smiled at him, but he caught a glimpse of sadness in her eyes and wondered what it must feel like to have no siblings. And to have what sounded like a pretty terrible mother.
And for a second, he was tempted to tell her something that might help, but it wasn’t his secret to tell. And he’d promised Helen he wouldn’t say a word.
“Okay,” he said as his brothers approached. “These are my brothers, in order down from me—Gray, Beck and Theo. Everybody, this is Lucy Macauley.”
He deliberately said her last name because he trusted his brothers to greet her with warm smiles, which they did. She shouldn’t have to shy away from using her name, even in Wayward Harbor.
He stroked the dark hair of the little girl who ran up and wrapped her arms around his legs. “This is the best niece in the whole world, Sierra. She’s four. And the best nephew in the whole world, Jeremy—over there in the sandbox—is two. They belong to Beck.”
“It’s a good thing he had one of each,” she said, her eyes sparkling with humor.
“It did work out well for me. I’d hate to have to rank two nephews or two nieces,” he said.
“We were just about to fire up the grill,” Theo said. “You want something to drink, Lucy?”
“Just water would be great.”
“I’ll show you around inside,” Nick said. “I’ll grab her one while we’re in there.”
He could practically feel his brothers’ nosy stares boring into his back as he led Lucy across the deck and through the slider into the dining room.
Giving her a brief tour of the downstairs—pretty basic dining room and kitchen area, living room and what had been a playroom before being turned into the home office for Slater & Sons—he tried to see it through her eyes.
It looked a lot like it had before their parents passed, with simple, solid furniture and very little clutter.
Cream walls lightly decorated with family photos and a lighthouse painting from a yard sale.
Hardwood floors with throw rugs. But it didn’t feel the same to him since their mother died.
It was functional, but the heart had gone out of the home.
“The half bath is here,” he said, pushing open the door a bit. “So you’ll know where it is. And I’ll save you the upstairs tour since I have no idea what condition the bedrooms are in. It looks a lot like down here, except with furniture for clothes and sleeping instead of sitting and eating.”
“It’s a lovely home,” she said. “You must miss being here.”
Not really. “I have to run over here now and again because the office is here, but it’s actually been nice at the cottage. We tend to have a hard time leaving work at work in this house.”
He’d grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge and was about to open the slider when he realized Lucy had stopped in front of his parents’ wedding photo, which hung in the living room.