Читать книгу Dating a Single Dad - Kris Fletcher - Страница 10

CHAPTER TWO

TWO WEEKS LATER, Hank stood in the middle of the Wolfe cabin and took in the changes with a critical eye. The missing bits in the fieldstone wall had been replaced, the wood floors were free of sawdust and thanks to a stretch of decent weather, he’d been able to open the windows long enough to clear all scents but a faint hint of fresh-cut wood. Taylor had added some throw rugs, ordered him to buy bed linens in some color he called red, but she insisted was cranberry, and hung curtains at the windows.

All in all, the place didn’t look bad. Kind of cozy, actually. And just in time.

Millie rushed in from her observation post on the porch. “She’s here!”

“Already?” Crap. Taylor had promised she’d be on hand for the move-in. Why did Brynn have to be the punctual cousin?

He reached for his phone, ready to tell Taylor to get it in gear, but Millie grabbed his hand. “Come on. We have to go see her.”

“Easy, Mills. Let’s not bowl her over in her first thirty seconds, okay?”

Millie huffed out her impatience with his adult ways. “Daddy. This is important. We have to make her like us. She’s our first guest. Our test...” Her nose wrinkled as she obviously struggled to remember his description.

“Our test subject? Is that what you’re trying to say, my little scientist?”

Her nod sent her glasses sliding down her nose. “Yes. Our first person. So we have to do a really great job with her, so come on, Daddy.” Tiny hands fastened on his behind and pushed. “Let’s go.”

“All right, all right. Take it easy.” It figured. The one time he would have welcomed some company there was none to be found. He would have to muddle through this on his own. The story of his life.

He shrugged on his jacket, took Millie’s hand and headed outside. A little blue hatchback sat at the end of the path he had cleared of snow. Yowzers, he hadn’t seen a car stuffed that full since he moved into his first university dorm.

“Hello.” He kept his voice hearty and brisk as he approached the car. “Welcome to Northwoods Cabins.”

The door creaked open. He spotted reassuringly serviceable boots—no heels, no suede—followed by long jean-clad legs. A head of dark hair followed. At last she emerged, giving him the full picture—one of those Icelandic sweaters the cross-country skiers loved, a hint of curves beneath the intricate design and a smile so dazzling it kind of knocked everything else out of his head.

“Hi!” Her voice was brisk also, a bit lower than he expected and friendly enough to ease Millie’s grip on his fingers. “I’m Brynn. I take it my cousin is late, as usual?”

“Sure looks that way.” He remembered his manners and stuck out his palm. “Hank North. This is my daughter, Millie.”

“Good to meet you.” Her hand closed over his. A flash of something—heat?—made him step quickly back, but she had already abandoned him to crouch in front of Millie.

“Hi. I’m Brynn. I know some people say you have to call adults by their last name, but Miss Catalano is just too long for anyone to say, so I’m good with Brynn. Or if your dad has a rule about that, I can be Miss Brynn, but that makes me feel like a teacher—” she glanced up at him, letting loose that smile once more “—so I hope we don’t have to use it.”

Taylor’s words about this woman coercing Russian hockey players to do her bidding took on a terrifying new significance. When she beamed that way, all warm and accepting and as if what she were asking was the most reasonable request ever made in the history of the world, well, it was easy to see how convincing she could be.

Millie pulled her thumb from her mouth. “Hi, Brynn.” From the way her eyes were shining, he was pretty sure that “Brynn” had become another way of saying “the most perfect person in the universe.”

“Let me guess.” Brynn smiled as she tipped her head to one side, studying Millie. “I think you must be in grade...three. Maybe even four.”

“Two.” Millie’s smile dimmed and her little shoulders hunched. Hank frowned. Was it his imagination, or did she do that every time anyone mentioned school lately?

“Only grade two?” Brynn placed a hand on her chest in mock astonishment. “I could have sworn you were older.”

That, at least, brought the light back to Millie’s eyes.

“So this is the place?” Brynn straightened and looked around. Hank braced himself as her gaze roamed over the snug cabin surrounded by winter-bare trees. She nodded and smiled once more.

“It looks adorable. I can’t wait to see the inside.” She moved toward the back of the car and popped the hatch. “By the way, Hank, Taylor told me you had to do some quick-time work to get ready for me. Thanks so much. I promise I won’t drive you crazy with special requests or anything now that I’m here. My goal in life is to be as low-maintenance as possible.”

She probably intended for her words to reassure, but instead they set off a warning bell. In Hank’s experience, when someone felt obliged to assure him they would never do something, he could expect the precise opposite.

Millie’s first subject might be more of a test than either of them had expected.

Brynn lifted a suitcase from the back. “Millie, could you lead me to my new home?”

They headed down the path, Millie chattering as if she had just been reunited with a long-lost friend, Brynn nodding and asking questions. He grabbed a box from the car and followed. He reached the cabin in time to see Millie grab Brynn’s hand and yank her to the center of the room.

“Mills,” he called, but he might as well have saved his breath.

“Okay. This is the living room, but it’s the kitchen, too, okay? Because see, it’s all one big room, but all the parts are in different corners. Aunt Taylor calls it open something.” Millie shook her head. “I don’t remember. But it sounds good. So here is your couch and here is your table, and here is where you can put your TV if you want one. Daddy says guests don’t get TVs. But you’re not a regular guest, so I think you will want one, because, you know, that’s the only way you can watch MythBusters.”

“Oh, I watch that on my computer,” Brynn said, and Millie froze in place.

“Really?” Her whisper was more reverent than anything he’d ever heard from her in church. “You watch MythBusters?”

“All the time. Did you see the one where they tried walking across banana peels? I laughed so hard.”

“I did! I loved that! And when they did the thing about the guys who escaped from—you know, that place, it was Alacrat—”

“You mean Alcatraz?”

Millie’s expression shifted from hero worship to complete and total adoration. It was time for him to step in.

“Uh, Brynn? If you get Millie going on this topic, you’re never going to have anything resembling a life, if you know what I mean.”

She waved his words away. “Oh, please. Like life would be worth living without MythBusters?” But she must have caught his underlying meaning, because she pointed to the freestanding island he’d installed the week before. “That looks like a great place to cook.”

“Yes. This is your kitchen.” Millie puffed up again and led the way, shrugging off her parka as she walked. Hank tensed when Brynn’s gaze lingered on the ragged fake lab coat—accessorized today with a ruler and a plastic thermometer peeking from the breast pocket—then let out a slow breath when her lips spread in an indulgent smile.

Shirttails flapping, Millie proceeded to open every drawer and cupboard, offering a running narrative of the things Brynn could either find within them or add to them. He sidled over to Brynn and nodded slightly in Millie’s direction.

“Don’t feel you have to encourage her, okay?”

“Not a problem. But you’re the dad. You call the shots.”

It was ridiculous, the way those simple words warmed him. Yeah, he was Millie’s father. Biology said so, and the divorce agreement made it clear that he was her primary caregiver. But just because it was on paper, it didn’t mean everyone agreed. This was a nice change from what usually happened, when folks would ask him for his opinion, then check with his mother when he wasn’t around.

“And now, this way!” Millie flew down the short hallway. Brynn hurried to follow, Hank tagging along with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, praying for Taylor to show up soon.

“There’s the bathroom. I guess you know what to do in there.”

“Millie!”

“Sorry, Daddy. Okay. This is the extra room. Aunt Taylor said you needed an office so we gave you this cabin ’cause it has an extra bedroom, but she helped us find a chair and table and stuff for you so you can work here. Do you like it?”

Brynn stepped into the room. He watched the way her gaze lingered on the furniture, the slight tilt to her lips as she took in the light from the window falling across the table. It seemed the lady liked what she saw.

Unexpected pride warmed him. He’d been more nervous about her reaction than he’d realized.

“See this?” Millie skipped to the wall where Taylor had instructed Hank to mount a giant whiteboard. “Aunt Taylor said you had to have this really bad. It was important. And it works, too. Me and Daddy played tic-tac-toe on it when he put it up there.”

“That was very responsible of you to test it. Did you try out all the stuff?”

Millie sighed. “I wanted to have a sleepover in your bed, but Daddy said that would be wrong.”

God, shoot him now.

“Well, that was very kind of you to offer to try it, and very...um...nice of your dad to protect my privacy.”

“Yeah, but it really is the best bed. Better than mine. Mine has a dumb old plain top, but yours has this curvy thing, like... Wait, let me show you.”

Again, she grabbed Brynn and yanked, this time with a force that pulled a little yip from Brynn’s mouth as she raced to keep up with the child.

“Millie, don’t kill Brynn on her first day here, okay?”

“Right.” Brynn’s voice was breathless but still tinged with laughter. “Let’s wait until I’ve had a night in this gorgeous— Oh, wow.”

They had reached the entry to the main bedroom, where Millie scampered ahead to display the beauty of the cherrywood sleigh bed with all the grace of a pint-size, bespectacled Vanna White.

“See?” She tapped the curve of the footboard. “Isn’t it so pretty?”

“It’s probably the most amazing bed I will ever sleep in.” Brynn smiled at Millie. “It must have been very hard to stay away from it. You get super bonus points for listening to your dad.”

“I’m a very good listener.”

“I bet you are. Now, I brought my favorite chair with me. Could you help me pick out the perfect place for it?”

“Oh, yes!” Without so much as a glance in his direction, Millie grabbed Brynn’s hand and took off down the hall. Voices and hints of laughter floated back to him. For a moment, he let himself enjoy it. He couldn’t remember the last time Millie had been so enthusiastic about something that didn’t involve a magnifying glass or some kind of chemical reaction. It was good to hear her giggling like a regular little kid. Not that he wanted her to be anyone other than herself, but still.

No, it looked like the biggest challenge facing him now wasn’t keeping Ms. Catalano happy, but keeping his daughter from falling head over heels for someone who was going to leave in a few short months.

* * *

BRYNN WASN’T AT ALL surprised that Taylor was late to help with the move-in, arriving well after quiet Hank had hustled his adorable daughter back to their place. She’d been prepared for the tardiness. What did catch her off guard was the thermos of premixed margaritas that Taylor dropped on the counter as soon as she walked in.

“Rough weekend?”

Taylor shook her head. “Rough month, rough day, rough...whatever. Let’s just say, it’s gonna feel good to help you unpack and exert some brute force on some things for a while.”

“Not that I can’t sympathize, but you know, I kind of like my stuff. Maybe I’ll do the heavy lifting and you take care of the ‘getting drunk’ part.”

“Yay, teamwork.” Taylor raised a glass of pale green liquid and downed half of it in one swallow. Brynn took in the shaking of her cousin’s hands, the tightness of her movements, and decided that further questioning could wait until the alcohol had kicked in.

“Actually, Hank already dragged in the worst of it. I tried to convince him he didn’t have to, but he just shrugged and kept hauling. He even carried Old Faithful in all by himself. Is he always so silent and chivalrous?”

“Quiet, yes. But chivalrous?” She wrinkled her nose. “I’ve never thought of it, but yeah. I guess he is, in a way.”

Brynn had a feeling there was a story behind those words, but she wasn’t sure she should hear it. Not when she was going to spend the next few months living in close proximity to the man. Years of short-term jobs had taught her the importance of keeping the work ties loose.

Though when Hank had bent forward to grab a box from the far reaches of the hatchback, she couldn’t stop herself from noticing that the stretch of his jeans had highlighted one very fine hind end. One very fine, very single hind end—which happened to belong to a member of the family that now employed her.

Nope. She wasn’t asking anybody anything about Hank. Wasn’t going to wonder who else in the family had that thick chestnut hair, wasn’t going to ponder how he would look without that faint line of stubble along his jawline. Instead, she crooked her finger and led Taylor down the hall to the bedroom and the suitcases that awaited.

“That Millie’s a sweetie. Chattered nonstop. How long has she been on the science kick?”

“As long as I can— Oh, damn. You didn’t mention your thing about MythBusters to her, did you?”

“She brought it up first. I was just being friendly.”

“You’re never going to get rid of her.”

Brynn shrugged and removed a pile of sweaters from the suitcase. “No hardship there. She’s a cutie. It’s okay with me if she pops in once in a while.”

“Oh, Brynn...”

It wasn’t Taylor’s words that made Brynn look up from the dresser where she was nestling her sweaters. It was the way Taylor hesitated that caught Brynn’s heart.

“What is it?”

“It’s just that... I really like Millie. The whole family. And it’s killing me that I’m going to have to leave them, you know?”

Brynn took an instinctive step, but Taylor shook her head.

“Don’t. I’m barely hanging on as it is. I don’t want to... Having you here is wonderful, don’t get me wrong. But all of a sudden this is real. I’m going to have to go. And I...”

Brynn’s throat tightened.

“If this doesn’t work, and I do have to leave, will you stay on? Do my job for me until they can hire someone else?”

“Oh, right. Because they would want to keep seeing the person who helped pull the wool over their—”

“Brynn, please. This is important. Will you do it?”

On one hand, Taylor was supposed to be thinking positive thoughts, marshaling her focus on the outcome they wanted. On the other hand, if she was thinking about the job, she wasn’t thinking about Carter.

Maybe.

“Sure, hon. If it will make this easier for you, and if they would want me around, then yes. Of course.”

“Thanks.” After a long moment, Taylor blew out a very loud breath and had another slug of margarita. “Anyway. Enough about me. Be careful with Mills, okay? Her best friend moved over Christmas and she’s been having a rough go of it since then. Not that she was ever one of the popular kids, you know?”

“More power to her.”

“Well, yeah, you and I can say that now. But when you’re little...” Taylor shrugged. “She’s not your average second-grader.”

“Yeah, you usually don’t see little kids running around in lab coats.”

“Oh. That.” Taylor ran her finger along the edge of her glass. “Don’t say anything to her about it, okay? Or to Hank. That shirt was Heather’s.”

“Who?”

“Millie’s mom.”

Ooooooh. “I thought Mom’s been gone for a while.”

“Most of Millie’s life, but there are visits. The last one was over Christmas. It takes her a while to get back on track.”

Poor little mite. Brynn had found it hard enough to cope with a family breakup when she was a teenager. She could only imagine the toll it would take on a little one.

“Well, not to worry. When she comes here, she can revel in total accepting geekery. Or, if she wants to try life on the other side, we can do our nails and watch Tangled until we wear out the disc.” Brynn closed the drawer and brushed her hands. “Okay, kiddo. You’re here, I’m here, there’s nobody else around. It’s time to commence making you fall in love again.”

“This is silly. You know that, right?”

“You agreed, Taylor. It’s part of the deal.”

“I know.” She sighed. “Honestly, I don’t have very high hopes. But I promise to give it my best. God knows if there’s a way to avoid the hurt that’s staring me in the face, I’m all for it.”

Well, that was better. Even if Taylor did nothing but follow directions, reluctant or not, Brynn had no doubt that she could make this happen. She’d pulled off harder things in her life than helping a woman fall back in love with a man who used to be the center of her world. Taylor might think it was hopeless, but Brynn was convinced it was a piece of cake. Wedding cake, to be specific.

“Okay. The first step is research. I need to learn all about Ian. More specifically, I need you to tell me everything that ever attracted you to him. What little things does he do to make your heart go pitter-patter? What’s the sweetest thing he ever did? How did you first know you were in love with him? Give me ten words to describe him.”

“Brynn—”

“Taylor.”

“Fine.” With a long sigh, Taylor uncurled from the chair, moved to the bed and stretched out full length.

“Hey! I haven’t even tested that yet. You do not get to be the one to break in my bed.”

“This is serious work, Brynn. Emotionally draining. I need to be supported.”

“Support, my ass,” Brynn said, but she rooted through the box marked Operation Sleeping Beauty and pulled out a notebook and an ancient tape recorder she had liberated from her mother’s basement.

“Is that what I think it is? I haven’t seen one of those in years.”

“Yes, it is, and you seriously don’t want to know how hard it is to find cassette tapes these days. Start talking.”

“Fine.” Taylor wriggled deeper into the pillows, making Brynn grit her teeth in envy. She’d stayed up way too late packing, and that bed was far too tempting. Though if Taylor was on it, Brynn couldn’t sack out and crash, so maybe this was better. “Any particular place you want me to start?”

Brynn glanced down at the notebook full of hastily scribbled ideas. “At the beginning, of course. Your first memory of Ian.”

“Um...let me think. That’s a tough one.”

“Two margaritas shouldn’t lead to this level of impairment, Taylor.”

“Bite me. I just can’t remember a time when he wasn’t in my life. I’ve known him since I was born. My mom and his mom went to high school together.”

“So when you say you’ve known him all your life, you’re not exaggerating.”

“That’s about it.”

Well, this might be a bit more difficult than anticipated. How could she help Taylor pinpoint the magic, when the magic had been with her every day?

“So were you in love with him all your life?”

“No.”

A simple answer, but there was just enough of a twist to the way Taylor drew the word out, almost dubiously, that made Brynn’s ears perk up.

“Elaborate.”

“Well, when we were kids, he was kind of on the outskirts of my circle. We saw each other when our folks got together, but there were two elementary schools, so we weren’t part of each other’s day-to-day lives.”

“You wouldn’t have been anyway, right? Isn’t he a couple of years older than you?”

“Right. He’s Greg’s age. And since you know how much girls like to hang out with their older brothers when they’re growing up...”

Brynn snorted. “Tell me about it. Sam couldn’t decide if he was supposed to protect me or sacrifice me to the hockey gods, so he usually did both.”

“How did he do that?”

She shrugged. “Put me in goal, shot pucks at me, then swooped in with an ice pack when I got hit.”

“Oh, that must have made for a secure childhood.”

“It had its moments.” At least, until it fell apart. But they weren’t supposed to be talking about her. “Okay. So when did you know that things had shifted with Ian?”

“Um...oh, hell. Promise you won’t laugh?”

“I swear.”

“Well...I was seventeen. It was his first year of university, and I hadn’t seen him since the summer, maybe earlier. He walked into church and he looked so...different. It was like he’d been... You know how, in the movies, the king will pull out his sword and tap the dude on the shoulders and say, ‘I dub thee Sir Fancy Pants,’ and they stand up and you could swear the guy’s standing a little taller? It was like that.”

Brynn had to swallow the lump in her throat. “That’s beautiful, Taylor.”

“Yeah, it was a pretty amazing moment.” Her laugh was short. “But, Brynn, I was seventeen. And it turns out that I wasn’t the only one who had been glad to see him come home. His old high school girlfriend had finally slept with him just the night before. So all I was seeing was afterglow.”

“Must you try to kill any hint of romance that ever existed in the world?”

“Well, no. Because like I said, I was a kid. It was all very romantic and magical, and I fell like that.” She snapped her fingers. “The thing is, I don’t think I was falling for Ian the person. I was falling for the whole idea of love and romance. He was just the rack that I hung my dreams on. Not like—”

Taylor bit her lip and Brynn knew what she was going to say: not like with Carter.

“It wasn’t like that with him, was it?”

Taylor shook her head. “But we’re not supposed to be talking about him.”

Brynn sat on the bed, a small corner of her brain noting how utterly sinkable the mattress was beneath her. She couldn’t wait to curl up beneath that fluffy comforter and indulge in an hour of reading when this day was over. “You’re right. Talking about Carter won’t be helpful.” She drew in a deep breath and hoped she wasn’t shooting herself in the foot. “But it might be good for me to know what draws you to him. So for the next ten minutes, you can tell me all about him. Anything. How it happened, how you knew things had shifted, the whole works. We’re going to lay it all on the table so we can deal with it. And then we’re going to stop talking about stupid men and finish off those margaritas and laugh for a while, okay?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Okay. Ten minutes. Go.”

“I won’t need that long.”

This was interesting. Taylor had always needed at least three sentences to say what Brynn could say in one.

“Go on.”

Taylor pulled a pillow onto her lap and hugged it close. “Ian is a wonderful, wonderful guy. Honestly, if anyone were to put him and Carter together and rate them on their amazingness, Ian would probably win, hands down. He’s more classically attractive, he’s great with kids, he’s more outgoing and charismatic. He’s got this air about him that makes people just, you know, like him.”

“And yet?” Brynn twisted her fingers and waited. Whatever this was, it was key. If she wanted to help her cousin find her happy ending, it was important to have all the facts.

“It’s like this. Ian is like a suit you put on for work. You can feel comfortable in it, powerful and happy and all those good things. But at the end of the day, you still want to come home and put on the clothes that call to you. Sweats. Jammies. The ones that are so soft and comfortable that you barely notice them.” She looked up. “Ian is the most amazing suit I will ever wear, Brynn. But it’s finally becoming clear to me that I’m not a suit person.”

Brynn reached for the margaritas. This cake might not be so easy to slice after all.