Savor the Moment
Page 18
“A little bit. I’m working on it.”
“It’s not like I’m lovesick or have this major crush or anything mortifying like that. It’s just a ...”
“Thing.”
“Yes, it’s that. And since I did what I did, I’m already smoothing out about it.”
“He’s that bad a kisser?”
Laurel spared a bland glance as she reached for her bowl of filling. “I made the move, and now that I’m over being embarrassed, I feel better. It was just part of the argument really, which was my fault. Mostly my fault. He shouldn’t have tried to pay me for the cake. It was the red flag when I was already pawing the ground. You wouldn’t try to pay for a damn cake.”
“No.” Still Parker held up a finger. “So, let me see if I understand. You don’t want him to lump you in the pile, so to speak, but you don’t want him to offer to pay you for your work, because that’s insulting.”
“You had to be there.”
“Can we forget he’s my brother for a minute?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Let’s give it a shot.” To keep it casual, Parker leaned back against the counter. “You’re attracted.You’re both interesting, unattached, attractive people. Why wouldn’t you be?”
“Because it’s Del.”
“What’s wrong with Del?”
“Nothing. See, this is weird.” She grabbed her bottle of water, then set it down again without drinking. “It’s not logical, Parker, and not something you can work out for me. We’re going to be fine—Del and me, I mean. I’m already over it, and I doubt he gave it a minute’s thought after the fact. Now, go away, so I can concentrate on this baklava.”
“All right. But you’ll tell me if there’s anything to tell.”
“Don’t I always?”
Up till now, Parker thought, but left it at that.
CHAPTER FIVE
GROWING UP IN A FEMALE-DOMINATED HOUSEHOLD PROVIDED DEL with certain basics to live by One, which he thought applied at the moment, decreed if a man didn’t understand what was going on, and the lack of understanding meant trouble, a certain distance was recommended.
The same rule, he felt, applied in more ... personal male/female relationships—which was also oddly apt under the circumstances.
He’d kept his distance from Laurel, and while it hadn’t led him to a brainstorm of understanding, he could only hope the space had given her room to simmer down.
He didn’t mind a fight. They kept things lively, for one thing, and often cleared the air, for another. But he liked to know the rules of the bout. In this case, he didn’t have a clue.
He was used to her temper, what he thought of as her quicksilver moods. And having her take a few swipes at him was nothing new.
Kissing him brainless? Brand-spanking-new. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, and thinking about it hadn’t helped him reach any conclusions.
Which just pissed him off.
Conclusions, solutions, alternatives, compromises—they served as his stock-in-trade. And with this very personal puzzle, he just couldn’t find the key pieces.
Regardless, he could hardly stay away indefinitely. He not only liked dropping in when he had the time, but the steady stream of business flowing between him and Parker and their business demanded attention.
A week was long enough for space and cooling off, he determined. They’d just have to deal with each other. One way or another. Which they would, of course. It was no big deal. No deal at all, he told himself as he turned into the long drive on the estate. They’d just had an argument—with unusual elements. She’d been trying to prove a point. On some level, he got the point. He tended to think of her—of all of them—as his responsibility, and it annoyed her.
She’d have to be annoyed because they damn well were his responsibility. He was Parker’s brother, he was their lawyer. And through circumstances none of them could control or change, he was head of the family.
But he could try to be more subtle about shouldering responsibility.
Although it wasn’t like he pushed his nose in her business every five minutes.
Still ... Still, he told himself, he could try to back off a little. He couldn’t argue the fact she’d made her point. She wasn’t his sister. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t part of his family, and damn it, he had every right to ...
Stop, he ordered himself. They’d get nowhere if he approached her already spoiling for trouble. Best to gauge the ground and let her take the lead.
Then he could haul her back where they belonged. Subtlety, he reminded himself.
Where the hell had all these cars come from? he wondered. It was Tuesday night, and he couldn’t remember anything on Vows’ slate. He swung off to park by Mac’s studio, got out, frowned at the house. No question an event was in progress. He could see Emma’s handiwork in lavish displays around the portico, and hear—even from the distance—the clatter and voices of a party going on.
For a moment, he simply stood where he was, watching. Lights glowed in the windows, turning the house into a welcoming celebration. Hospitality, with an elegant flair. It had always been. His parents had loved to entertain—small intimate gatherings, big flashy parties. He supposed Parker came by her skills there naturally. Yet when he came home unexpectedly—and it was still home—he’d feel that quick tug, that poignant sorrow for what he’d lost. For what they’d all lost.
He took the path, wound his way home, choosing the side door with its easy access to the family kitchen.
He’d hoped to find Mrs. Grady there, fussing at the stove, but a single light burned in the empty kitchen. He wandered to the window, watched some of the guests who’d gathered on the terrace, strolled the gardens.
Relaxed, at home, impressed, he judged. Infusing an event with those qualities was another Parker skill, or the blend the Quartet combined.
He caught sight of Emma and a few of the catering staff he recognized carrying linens, flowers. A last-minute adjustment, he assumed, then watched as they set up a table. Quick, efficient, he noted, with Emma chatting with some of the guests. All smiles and warmth—that was Emma. No one would know her mind was scrambling toward the next duty.
Emma and Jack, he mused. Now that was a last-minute adjustment for him. His closest friend and one of his girls. Even as he considered it, Jack came out carrying a tray of tea lights. Pitching in, Del thought, as they all pitched in from time to time. But it was different, he thought. And it occurred to him that this was the first time since Emma and Jack became ‘Emma and Jack’ that he’d observed them when they weren’t aware of him.
“It’s not like I’m lovesick or have this major crush or anything mortifying like that. It’s just a ...”
“Thing.”
“Yes, it’s that. And since I did what I did, I’m already smoothing out about it.”
“He’s that bad a kisser?”
Laurel spared a bland glance as she reached for her bowl of filling. “I made the move, and now that I’m over being embarrassed, I feel better. It was just part of the argument really, which was my fault. Mostly my fault. He shouldn’t have tried to pay me for the cake. It was the red flag when I was already pawing the ground. You wouldn’t try to pay for a damn cake.”
“No.” Still Parker held up a finger. “So, let me see if I understand. You don’t want him to lump you in the pile, so to speak, but you don’t want him to offer to pay you for your work, because that’s insulting.”
“You had to be there.”
“Can we forget he’s my brother for a minute?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Let’s give it a shot.” To keep it casual, Parker leaned back against the counter. “You’re attracted.You’re both interesting, unattached, attractive people. Why wouldn’t you be?”
“Because it’s Del.”
“What’s wrong with Del?”
“Nothing. See, this is weird.” She grabbed her bottle of water, then set it down again without drinking. “It’s not logical, Parker, and not something you can work out for me. We’re going to be fine—Del and me, I mean. I’m already over it, and I doubt he gave it a minute’s thought after the fact. Now, go away, so I can concentrate on this baklava.”
“All right. But you’ll tell me if there’s anything to tell.”
“Don’t I always?”
Up till now, Parker thought, but left it at that.
CHAPTER FIVE
GROWING UP IN A FEMALE-DOMINATED HOUSEHOLD PROVIDED DEL with certain basics to live by One, which he thought applied at the moment, decreed if a man didn’t understand what was going on, and the lack of understanding meant trouble, a certain distance was recommended.
The same rule, he felt, applied in more ... personal male/female relationships—which was also oddly apt under the circumstances.
He’d kept his distance from Laurel, and while it hadn’t led him to a brainstorm of understanding, he could only hope the space had given her room to simmer down.
He didn’t mind a fight. They kept things lively, for one thing, and often cleared the air, for another. But he liked to know the rules of the bout. In this case, he didn’t have a clue.
He was used to her temper, what he thought of as her quicksilver moods. And having her take a few swipes at him was nothing new.
Kissing him brainless? Brand-spanking-new. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, and thinking about it hadn’t helped him reach any conclusions.
Which just pissed him off.
Conclusions, solutions, alternatives, compromises—they served as his stock-in-trade. And with this very personal puzzle, he just couldn’t find the key pieces.
Regardless, he could hardly stay away indefinitely. He not only liked dropping in when he had the time, but the steady stream of business flowing between him and Parker and their business demanded attention.
A week was long enough for space and cooling off, he determined. They’d just have to deal with each other. One way or another. Which they would, of course. It was no big deal. No deal at all, he told himself as he turned into the long drive on the estate. They’d just had an argument—with unusual elements. She’d been trying to prove a point. On some level, he got the point. He tended to think of her—of all of them—as his responsibility, and it annoyed her.
She’d have to be annoyed because they damn well were his responsibility. He was Parker’s brother, he was their lawyer. And through circumstances none of them could control or change, he was head of the family.
But he could try to be more subtle about shouldering responsibility.
Although it wasn’t like he pushed his nose in her business every five minutes.
Still ... Still, he told himself, he could try to back off a little. He couldn’t argue the fact she’d made her point. She wasn’t his sister. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t part of his family, and damn it, he had every right to ...
Stop, he ordered himself. They’d get nowhere if he approached her already spoiling for trouble. Best to gauge the ground and let her take the lead.
Then he could haul her back where they belonged. Subtlety, he reminded himself.
Where the hell had all these cars come from? he wondered. It was Tuesday night, and he couldn’t remember anything on Vows’ slate. He swung off to park by Mac’s studio, got out, frowned at the house. No question an event was in progress. He could see Emma’s handiwork in lavish displays around the portico, and hear—even from the distance—the clatter and voices of a party going on.
For a moment, he simply stood where he was, watching. Lights glowed in the windows, turning the house into a welcoming celebration. Hospitality, with an elegant flair. It had always been. His parents had loved to entertain—small intimate gatherings, big flashy parties. He supposed Parker came by her skills there naturally. Yet when he came home unexpectedly—and it was still home—he’d feel that quick tug, that poignant sorrow for what he’d lost. For what they’d all lost.
He took the path, wound his way home, choosing the side door with its easy access to the family kitchen.
He’d hoped to find Mrs. Grady there, fussing at the stove, but a single light burned in the empty kitchen. He wandered to the window, watched some of the guests who’d gathered on the terrace, strolled the gardens.
Relaxed, at home, impressed, he judged. Infusing an event with those qualities was another Parker skill, or the blend the Quartet combined.
He caught sight of Emma and a few of the catering staff he recognized carrying linens, flowers. A last-minute adjustment, he assumed, then watched as they set up a table. Quick, efficient, he noted, with Emma chatting with some of the guests. All smiles and warmth—that was Emma. No one would know her mind was scrambling toward the next duty.
Emma and Jack, he mused. Now that was a last-minute adjustment for him. His closest friend and one of his girls. Even as he considered it, Jack came out carrying a tray of tea lights. Pitching in, Del thought, as they all pitched in from time to time. But it was different, he thought. And it occurred to him that this was the first time since Emma and Jack became ‘Emma and Jack’ that he’d observed them when they weren’t aware of him.
