Chapter 8
PIPER
“Mia! Knock it off!”
I’m breathing too fast, my internal organs ricocheting around inside of me like they’ve just been caught doing something naughty and are scrambling to get back where they belong.
I was meant to be comforting Brody, but it turned, at least for me, into something else. Something so hot, horny, and addictive that I couldn’t let him go.
Jesus. And after he’d just ripped open his chest and bared his soul to my entire family?
“I’m only trying to help,” Mia protests, a cheeky glint in her eye.
“How, exactly?” I cross my arms, attempting a stern face.
“Is that Mia?” Mom calls from the dining room.
“Yes, give us a minute!”
“Have you kissed yet?” Mia asks.
Brody takes a step back, his palms raised, and a little piece of my heart breaks off.
“Of course not!” I whisper to Mia, then gesture at Brody. “He’d rather kiss a piece of furniture. It’s fake, don’t you remember?”
“I know that.” She inclines her head toward the dining-room door. “But they don’t. You need to practice so you can make it look real.”
Brody shakes his head. “There isn’t going to be any kissing.”
Dammit!
I take a calming breath. “See? Now make sure you—”
“Aunt Mia!”
Martha runs toward us.
Mia scoops her up and whirls her around. “How’s my favorite Martha in the whole wide world?”
Martha giggles, then pulls Mia’s knitted hat off. “Hurry up! We’re having lobster rolls and pie!”
“I’m glad I’m not too late for that,” Mia says, then strolls to the dining room carrying her.
Brody and I follow. I want to take his hand again, but after Mia dropped the idea of a kiss on us like a bomb, I can’t. I don’t want him thinking that’s what I want, because I don’t. Well, not really. Although if—
He doesn’t want to kiss you, so back the sexy truck up.
Back in the dining room, Dad is getting an extra chair, and Mom is setting another place next to Hudson.
“Mom, there’s no room next to me,” he grumbles. “Put Mia next to Harper.”
Dad sighs with good-natured exasperation and moves the chair to the other side of the table as the show starts.
“I forgot how much extra room was needed for your ego,” Mia says to my brother with a smirk.
Hudson rolls his eyes. “Muscles, Mia. Muscles.”
I bite my lip to stop a laugh escaping as Mia squints and peers at my brother’s arms.
“I don’t think that’s muscle. It looks to me like too many big meals down at the station.”
She glances at Brody as he takes his place next to Hudson. “Now Brody’s got muscles. He’s seriously buff.”
Hudson instinctively flexes as he flicks a glance at Brody’s arms.
“See?” Mia says. “You should ask him what workout he does. He probably has some ex-Navy SEAL trainer.”
My traitorous eyes roam over Brody’s body. Unfortunately, most of it is clothed, but I’ve ogled his bare forearms long enough on the drive up—and felt his body against mine when we hugged, so I know Mia’s right. He’s solid in all the right places.
“Do you, Brody?”
Spots of color appear on Brody’s cheekbones, and he nods.
Mia squeals. “Knew it! Is his name Bullet? Or Warrior?”
“Major Gains,” he deadpans. “Or Major Ab Gains if he’s being formal.”
I giggle.
“Although after a session with him, I call him Major Ab Pains,” Brody continues.
“Really?” Mia asks, looking delighted. “Please let this be true!”
Brody grins. “Unfortunately, not. His name’s Weston.”
She sighs dramatically. “Well, you should still give his number to Hudson. He needs all the help he can get in the personal fitness department, especially after his poor showing in Hideaway’s Wife Carrying Championships last summer.”
Hudson growls and shoves an entire lobster roll in his mouth. They’re mini ones, but still.
Both Hudson and Mia are single. You don’t actually have to be married or even in a relationship with your teammate to participate, and Mia competes with her brother.
“Remind me who won this year?” Mia continues, an expression of pure innocence on her face. “And last?”
“Mia, honey, leave the poor boy alone,” Mom chides. “He still hasn’t processed the defeat.”
Hudson tries to speak, clearly taking issue with the word defeat, but Mia holds up her hand.
“Not with food in your mouth.” She turns to Harper. “How’s your search going for a shop for your perfume business?”
“I haven’t found the right place yet. But once Christmas is over and the pop-up shops are closed, there should be more choices.” She looks between Mia and me. “You don’t seem surprised about Piper and Brody. Did you know?”
Mia shrugs and finishes her mouthful. “Piper didn’t want to tell you in case you freaked out. Also, she didn’t want to jinx it.”
“Jinx it how?”
“You know, how she’s finally landed the—ow!”
A lifetime of kicking my siblings under the table means I know how to make contact with the right shin. And I also know exactly where Mia’s motormouth was running.
There’s no way I want Brody, or the rest of my family, to know I was head-over-heels for him all those years ago.
“How did they re-meet?” Harper asks.
I wave across the table. “Hello? We are here, you know.”
“Yeah, but Mia will make the story way more exciting than it probably is,” she retorts.
“One hundred percent. So, a few months ago—”
“Brody was dodging the paparazzi and slid into my booth at a coffee shop,” I say quickly. “We started talking and hanging out. I didn’t want to tell anyone in case it didn’t work out.”
Mia huffs dramatically. “See? Boring.”
“Not everything has to be a big drama,” Hudson says to her. “Nothing wrong with simple and straightforward.”
Which, of course, is nothing like the situation Brody and I are actually in.
“Is that a line from your online dating profile?” Mia asks Hudson. “Simple, straightforward, excels at coming second.”
Hudson raises an eyebrow at Mia and I watch her process the other meaning of coming second.
Her cheeks flush a deeper red than her hair, and she immediately changes the subject.
“Hey, Brody. You know you’re not the only new celeb in Hideaway this Christmas?”
Hideaway Harbor has always attracted famous people. They might like the patchy phone signal, the stunning scenery, or the small-town vibe. But they stay because they’re usually treated like normal people, and left alone.
“Amanda Willis is in town,” Mia continues. “She was great as an astronaut in Lift Off to Love. Have you ever worked with her before?”
The actress is stunningly beautiful, and my evil mind conjures up an image of Brody kissing her on camera. The director yells “Cut,” but they keep on going.
“No, we run in the same circles, but we haven’t properly met.”
“Well, if you run into her and have some kind of mwah-mwah-sweedie-dahhling moment, put in a good word for me, will you? I’ve always wanted to photograph her.”
Brody grins. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a mwah-mwah-sweedie-dahhling moment with anyone before.”
Mia smirks. “When in Hideaway …”
“Do you have any interesting jobs coming up?” Mom asks Mia.
“I've been doing some social media work for The Haven. That's been pretty cool.” Her face lights up. “And the other day, they had this mysterious package turn up. A bag filled with carrots and candy canes, and a note that said, ‘Healthy and not-so-healthy treats for the holidays.’”
"Who was it from?"
Mia shrugs. “No clue. Apparently, there's a secret do-gooder going about in the middle of the night doing things like leaving gifts and clearing snow from people's porches.”
This is one of the things I love about my hometown; there’s always something interesting going on. It also means the conversation can move away from Brody and me. My right arm is buzzing next to him, and when our elbows occasionally touch, I have to stop myself from jumping at the shock.
Dad collects our plates. “As long as good deeds don’t turn into pranks, I’m happy.”
He’s been Hideaway’s mayor for the past twenty-five years, and the town is like another one of his children.
“It’s an elf,” Martha says with the authority of a preschooler who’s figured out exactly how the world works. “An elf who doesn’t live on the shelf.”
“But are you sure it’s a good elf?” Hudson asks.
“He made a funny-looking snowman with a big smile in front of the school.”
“You sure it wasn’t the janitor?”
“I heard him talking to the principal about it. He said he didn’t do it.”
Hudson arches a brow, and Mia leans across the table toward him. “You gonna do a stakeout? Patrol the streets at night to protect us from a marauding elf doing good deeds?”
My younger brother ignores her and follows Dad into the kitchen.
“You never know!” Mia calls after him. “It might be me!”
“Is it you?” Martha asks.
“Sorry, I wish it were, but I only do bad deeds.”
“Really?”
Ethan clears his throat.
“Only joking,” Mia says quickly, hiding her smirk. “I’m ninety-nine percent good.”
Dad and Hudson return carrying the main course, and from the size of the pork roast in my brother’s hands, there’s no way Mom planned this meal for fewer than the entire family.
“Wow,” Brody says as Mom passes his empty plate to Dad so he can be served first. “This is incredible!”
Mom’s cheeks flush at the praise. “It’s basted with Maine maple syrup, Dijon mustard, and fresh herbs.
And slow-roasted all afternoon. The potatoes are mashed with butter and buttermilk, and the winter salad is a mix of baby greens, crisp green apples, dried cranberries, toasted pecans, and a maple-Dijon vinaigrette to complement the roast pork. ”
“This …” Brody slowly shakes his head, “is the best meal I’ve eaten in years.”
“Since you were last here?” Dad asks.
“Absolutely. There’s no cooking that compares to Mrs Locke’s.”
“Erica,” Mom says, leaning across me again to squeeze his arm. “Call me Erica.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I start eating and follow the happy hum of conversation. Brody seems more relaxed now, laughing at Harper’s terrible jokes, and the tension inside me melts away.
“Blueberry pie!” Mia exclaims as my mother places it on the table. “I have to take a picture.”