Chapter 19 #2
Possibly because she, the adult-Bronwyn in charge of her own self, thank you very much, was starving, hangry, emotional, and wanted nothing more than to crawl into something fluffy and go to sleep.
She unrolled the silverware that rested on the tray as fast as she could. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was. But now, she was fighting the temptation to go for it face-first.
“If you don’t need anything else . . .” June’s voice trailed off as Bronwyn crammed a bite into her mouth and moaned.
She held her free hand over her face and spoke around the food. “Sorry.”
June smiled.
“I was hungrier than I realized. Of course, go home. You stayed way too late as it is. Take your time coming in tomorrow.”
“I’m fine, ma’am.” June pinched her lips together, clearly fighting a smile. “Enjoy your dinner. And you should take your own advice. Go home and get some sleep. You’ve had a long day.”
Bronwyn chewed, swallowed, and waited before she took the next bite. “I will. Meredith’s coming in a few minutes, then we’ll head to my house to talk all things decorating.”
“That sounds fun, but don’t stay up too late.”
“Yes, Mom.”
June made a face, then laughed. “See you tomorrow.” She closed the door behind her, and Bronwyn took five more bites before she slowed enough to truly taste the food. The ache in her stomach eased, but with the surcease came awareness of other small miseries. Her head hurt. Her eyes burned.
Exhaustion was winning.
And if the unknown Quinn cousin hadn’t sent her food, she would have settled for some yogurt and a few berries before she crashed.
This had been the longest week ever. How was it only Tuesday night?
She took another bite. The pasta deserved to be savored, but right now, her body refused to do anything more than consume the needed calories.
She ate with single-minded focus for several minutes, and the bowl still looked full.
Cassie must have assumed she hadn’t eaten for three days, not just one.
She’d sent enough to feed her for a week.
Her phone buzzed. She glanced at it and saw a text from Meredith.
I’m inside the gates. Sorry I’m so late.
Bronwyn gathered her things, including the pasta bowl because she wasn’t done and there was no way she was leaving it behind, and walked outside to meet Meredith.
What she found was Meredith parked behind her car, with Mo idling in his Jeep behind her.
Meredith lowered her window and waved. “I guess when you run the joint, you can walk off with the dishes.”
“You know it.”
“We’ll follow you home.” Meredith rolled her window up, and they waited for Bronwyn to climb into her car.
She’d had Cal give her a ride home after she was done at Landry’s this morning, and she’d driven back to her office.
She’d hoped Meredith and Mo would give up on the whole “let’s have a sleepover at Bronwyn’s” idea, meaning she would need her own car to get home.
But here they were.
They all parked at Bronwyn’s home. Once again, Mo cleared her house before they entered. He caught her eye as he returned to the door, but she had no idea what the look he gave her meant.
Bronwyn went straight to the kitchen and called over her shoulder, “I have this pasta from Cassie. It’s possibly the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”
“That’s because she isn’t eating enough to remember what food tastes like.” Mo’s low grumble wasn’t directed at her, but also . . . it was.
“We already ate,” Meredith said. “Besides, Mo will strangle me if I eat your food. He took the time to check your fridge and decided it was alarmingly empty. And yes, that is an exact quote. He’s worried you’re losing weight from stress and general neglect.”
Bronwyn had returned to the living room during Meredith’s speech, and Mo’s eyes didn’t waver from hers. He’d said all of that. And right now, he was daring her to say something about it.
She dragged her focus to Meredith. “So he decided to send creamy pasta to my office.”
“No. He called Cassie and asked her for the most decadent thing she had on the menu tonight.”
Bronwyn looked between the siblings. “That would be the lobster.”
“Yeah, but you don’t eat lobster. At least, that’s what Mo said. And it doesn’t reheat well, anyway.”
She couldn’t stop her eyes from returning to Mo. Again, he was looking at her. No hesitation. No shying away. What was happening?
“Bronwyn?” Meredith waved a hand in front of her. “Hon, you need sleep. Go to bed. We’ve got this.” She made shooing motions with her hands. “Seriously. I’ll prep your coffeepot, hassle my annoying brother for a few minutes, and then be right behind you.”
“It’s only eight o’clock.”
“We got up at four.”
“We went back to sleep.”
“For what? An hour? Two?” Meredith grabbed Bronwyn’s arm and pulled her toward the hall. “No. We’re in a sleep deficit. It’s time for rest.”
“Who put you in charge?” Bronwyn complained, but she let Meredith push her toward her room.
“Self-appointed role. You’re welcome.” Meredith paused at her door and gave her a quick hug. “Go to bed.”
Bronwyn paused in the doorway. “Will Mo sleep? Because he shouldn’t stay up all night again. He’s running on fumes too.”
“He’s going to work for a little while and then he’ll sleep on the couch.”
Bronwyn pinched the bridge of her nose. “That couch isn’t very comfortable. He should go home.”
“Don’t argue, Beep. There’s no point in it. If you push him too hard, he’ll sleep in his car out front.”
“No I won’t!” Mo yelled from the living room.
Bronwyn hadn’t realized he could hear them.
“If you kick me out, I’ll grab a lawn chair and sleep by the front door,” he continued.
“See what I mean?” Meredith patted her arm. “Go to bed. Sleep. Wake up tomorrow with new hope.”
“Mer, if something happened to him . . .” She couldn’t even finish the thought.
“Nothing’s going to happen. First of all, if either he or Gray, or Cal for that matter, thought something was going down, neither of us would be here. This is about not giving them an opportunity.”
“I’m not sure if that’s as encouraging as you seem to think it is.”
Meredith waved away her snide remark. “He’s already vetted your security.
He knows who we can trust, and he has them on speed dial.
He’s in touch with Gray and the officers, who will be nearby.
We have extra cars parked out front. If anyone was thinking of trying anything, tonight is not the night. ”
Bronwyn leaned against the doorframe. She had a sneaky feeling that there was something faulty in Meredith’s logic, but she didn’t have the mental capacity to suss it out. “If anything happens to him . . .” she said again.
“He feels the same way about you. That’s why he’s here.” Meredith squeezed her temples between her palms. “You two are giving me a headache. Go to bed.” And, with a lot of love but also a look that said she was done with the conversation, Meredith shoved Bronwyn into her room and closed the door.
Bronwyn stared at the door but when it moved . . . wait. No. The door hadn’t moved. She was swaying. Maybe sleep would be the best option.
But . . . Mo was on her couch again.
She went back into the hall and to the linen closet. She grabbed a set of sheets, a pillow, and a blanket, and walked back to the living room.
Mo sat on the sofa, again, computer in his lap. When she placed the linens on the sofa, he gave her a chin lift.
It wasn’t words.
But it was communication.
She swallowed hard, then nodded at him in acknowledgment before turning and running to her room like the big chicken she was.