Family Matters (DiCarlo Brides book 4) (The DiCarlo Brides) (22 page)

Jonquil’s laugh echoed through the phone before she hung up.

“So? What’s the answer?” Cleo asked. She had a cocky little grin that reminded Rosemary of herself at that age and she no longer wondered why so many people wanted to beat her up when she wore it.

“He was playing in the arcade.”

“Nope. He was at a theater. Our turn!” Cleo sang and pushed the card holder to Rosemary.

The girls didn’t know the sixteenth president of the United States was Abe Lincoln, but they declared that if they didn’t know it, it must be too hard.

Amused, Rosemary let it go. “How would I know what Elmo’s favorite food is?” she asked when that question came up. “I never had a kid who watched Sesame Street.”

“Don’t you remember from when you were a kid?” Hannah asked, all innocence.

“No, Elmo didn’t come around until I was grown up,” Rosemary said. “Ask me what Cookie Monster or Oscar the Grouch love best and I can help you out, but Elmo is a mystery to me.”

“Just guess,” Cleo said.

“It’s too hard,” Rosemary put on her biggest whiner voice. “It must not be a fair question if I don’t know it.”

“You’re supposed to know everything, ‘cause you’re an adult.” Cleo wasn’t giving an inch. “Come on, just guess.”

“Fine.” Rosemary racked her brain and decided to go with Cleo’s favorite food. “Pizza?”

“Yes! How did you know?” Hannah asked, wide-eyed.

“Who doesn’t love pizza?” Rosemary was relieved she was going to have at least one move in this game.

It ended up being almost the only move she got before the girls won. Patently unfair, but Rosemary decided it was fun anyway, and started setting out ingredients for cookie dough.

“We need a hut to sit in while we eat these,” Hannah said as she cracked an egg.

“Yeah. You should see her grandma’s barn, Rosemary, it’s so cool,” Cleo enthused. “They set up a corner just for the kids to play in and it has little furniture and everything. We play in it all of the time.”

“In this weather? It’s cold out there.” Just the walk from work to the car made Rosemary cold—but Cleo didn’t seem to mind cold the way she did, which made Rosemary wonder if she had become a wimp as she became an adult.

“It’s not that cold. The horses don’t mind it, right?” Cleo grinned as she added a teaspoon of salt.

“How about if we make a hut out of the furniture downstairs and some blankets instead?” Rosemary suggested. It would probably irritate Jonquil and Delphi if they had to crawl through the blankets to get to their rooms if it wasn’t down when they got home, but the furniture was easier to move down there than the sofas in the great room were and she wasn’t much use with her injured shoulder.

The girls were quick to agree and as soon as the first tray of cookies was in the oven, they ran downstairs to start setting up their hut.

Rosemary smiled despite the fact that they’d already tired her out. Who knew parenting could be so exhausting? Or so fun.

“How come you live so far away?” Cleo asked as they drove to Harrison’s the next evening.

Rosemary glanced at Cleo, who sat in Harrison’s back seat. “It’s not that far.”

“But Vince and Cami are only a few blocks, and Sage and Joel are building next door to the house,” Cleo said. “So how come you’re across town, Harrison?”

“There weren’t that many options,” he said. “I didn’t buy it. George leased it for me for the year. He said if I decide to stay, I could buy something else.”

Rosemary turned to Harrison, curious, though it hadn’t occurred to her to ask. “Are you planning to stay longer than the rest of us?” She reconsidered. “Then again, I don’t really see Cami going anywhere anytime soon. Or Lana. They’re both pretty entrenched.” Lana had already accepted the job before she heard the terms of the will and said from the first that she intended to ride the current for as long as it lasted. Cami married a local, and Vince owned businesses in town, so he wasn’t likely to go anywhere.

“I have the feeling most of you will be pretty entrenched by the time the year is up.” Harrison took a quick glance, but his expression was hard to read.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” His knowing tone said there was more to it, but he shrugged instead of explaining.

“Have you been talking to Sage? Is she reading the stars about it or something?” Rosemary had to know now that the topic had come up.

He sighed. “You never give up. Yes, Sage thinks you’re all going to stay, at least for a while longer.”

“And you? Are you going to stay?” Rosemary suddenly wanted very much to know.

His lips twitched. “I guess that depends.”

“On what?” Cleo asked.

“On whether or not Sage is right.”

“I thought you said she was
always
right,” Cleo said.

“Yes, she is.” He pulled the car into a curved driveway. “Here we are.”

Rosemary let go of the questions about what exactly Sage had said—there would be time to go over that again later. She had never seen Harrison’s house before, so she took a long look. It was covered in a stone facade, which gave it a cottage-y look, despite the fact that it was really too big to be a cottage. The forest encroached almost to the front porch with just a small clearing in the front for grass or flowers.

“It’s hard to imagine what it’ll look like in the summer—the snow kinda gets in the way,” Rosemary said, but she liked it. It felt homey and comfortable.

“Yeah. Sage said it looks like a cottage in the woods—which it is, so it makes sense. She was talking about planting a bunch of wildflowers this spring.” He pushed out and came around to open their doors.

“It’s charming.” Rosemary couldn’t help but approve. It didn’t have the sweeping grace and bank of windows that their father had built for his daughters, or the middle-class boxiness of her neighborhood back home. It was a perfect mix of the two, tucked into the forest like it belonged there.

“Yes. And wait until you see the inside.” He led them up the front walk, onto the log front porch, and pushed open the door. “The whole place has hardwood floors and a few of the rooms have log walls. I have two wood stoves; one in here and one in the master bedroom.”

“I guess they didn’t want to get cold if the power went out,” Rosemary said. The space wasn’t huge, but it was nice, with an open floor plan into the kitchen. She walked over and stared at the tiny space. “How does anyone cook in here? Seriously, it’s smaller than my bathroom.”

“The bathrooms in your house rival the Taj Mahal,” Harrison said.

“Don’t exaggerate.”

“You started it,” Cleo said. “The kitchen is
not
smaller than your bathroom.”

“She’s right.” Harrison leaned against the cabinet and snaked an arm around Rosemary’s waist, pulling her close.

“Hey, not in front of the kid.” Rosemary put a hand on his chest to push off. His warm, very firm chest.

“I don’t care. And I’m not a kid.” Cleo wandered to the counter and lifted the lid on the crockpot.

Harrison pulled Rosemary a little closer. “She doesn’t care.”

“I do.” Her voice wasn’t steady though. When he didn’t kiss her, Rosemary looked over at her daughter. She had already smelled the meat simmering when she walked in, but the lid coming off poured scent into the room, making her salivate. This was bad. She’d known it would be. Dinner would be like a normal daily calorie intake if she wasn’t careful.

Cleo took two more steps and lifted a second lid. “What’s this?”

“Dump cake. It’s a fruit cobbler. Put that back on. It needs more time and when you open the lid it lets out all the heat.” Harrison spoke lightly, not upsetting Cleo, despite the fact that she had become very jumpy lately.

“Oh. It smells yummy. Do you have ice cream to put on top?” she asked hopefully.

“Of course.” Harrison buried his face in Rosemary’s neck and whispered, “You smell really good too.” His lips brushed her neck, making her shiver, then he released her. “You ladies ready to eat? We can set the table.”

Cleo kept up a lively chatter about a kid who got sick at school and how gross it was, though her eyes were filled with excitement. They all worked together to set out the dishes. Rosemary wouldn’t let herself think about the way they worked in sync, how Harrison anticipated them, pointing out the right cupboards, testing the food, filling the water pitcher. It felt good, right—the three of them working together, preparing for dinner, to sit for a meal in his home. And the place was surprisingly homey considering he was a bachelor.

“Who decorated for you?” Rosemary asked. “I’m not buying that you did all of this.”

“Most of the furniture came with the house,” Harrison admitted. “Sage came in and dressed the place up a little more when I moved in, rearranged a few things to comply with Feng Shui. She said I shouldn’t be staying in a place that was less homey than a hotel.”

“She would be right. It’s nice.”

“Thanks. I’m comfortable here. Especially settling on the sofa in front of the fire at night with a nice cup of chamomile tea. It’s cozy.” Their gazes met and the promises in his eyes made her smile.

She could imagine it—with both of them on the sofa, of course. “Sounds cozy.”

“Ugh. You two are so stupid,” Cleo said. “If you want to kiss her, just do it. Don’t stand there and make googly eyes at each other.” Cleo was arranging the silverware, sending them covert glances.

“Okay.” Harrison crossed to Rosemary in two long strides, pulled her close and laid his lips on hers almost before she could process.

Just before Rosemary closed her eyes, she saw Cleo peek at them again and grin. If she was happy about it, Rosemary didn’t see why they shouldn’t enjoy the moment. His lips were firm but yielding, his touch teasing, tender. His hands raced up her spine once, then settled around her waist, pulling her even closer. She settled into the kiss, lingering over it for a long moment, drawing it out until she felt her heart beating in her throat and she wished they didn’t have an audience. She snuggled closer to him and sighed when he ended the kiss.

“Hello,” he said in a husky voice in her ear.

She smiled, almost giggled aloud despite the fact that she hadn’t giggled in years. “Hello. It took you a while for you to greet me properly.”

“I won’t wait next time.” He pulled back and picked up the hot pads. “Time for dinner.” He turned off the heat in the main crockpot and carried the crock onto the table.

Rosemary took a large helping of carrots, a small one of meat and skipped the starchy potatoes. It tasted fantastic. Though she tried to turn away dessert, Harrison served her some anyway, and she found herself unable to resist the sweet aroma, finishing half of it.

After they ate, they sat down to a rousing game of canasta, which Cleo won handily, and then Harrison put on the latest family movie release, which Cleo had seen in the theater, but neither Harrison or Rosemary had paid attention to before. Not surprisingly. Cleo snuggled under a fluffy blanket on the easy chair, and quickly fell asleep.

“It must be all that excitement with the puking kid at school that wore her out,” Harrison suggested.

“Right. It always makes me tired when I see people puking around me,” Rosemary agreed.

He pulled her a little closer, and she set her hand on his shoulder. She should be seriously freaked out right now, crazily freaked. The day before he said that he loved her, that he thought they were going to be together, and in the car, he insinuated that he would stay in town if she did.

He was actually serious about them, and she wasn’t freaking out. She pushed the thought away, just really glad to be there with him, to feel reasonably safe at the moment, despite the troubles they’d been having. She needed a night without any troubles, time to just relax with Harrison and Cleo. A night to ignore the echoes of the bad decisions she’d made in her past.

So when he tipped her chin up and kissed her, she let everything around them drop away.

Rosemary stretched the muscles across her back and sighed. She’d been at the resort since five, getting things up and running for the breakfast service. It meant Jonquil had to get Cleo off for school that morning, but that Rosemary would be able to pick her up and spend the rest of the day with her. She walked through the kitchen and got reports for the afternoon snack service and dinner preparations for the meeting being held in one of the small conference rooms, then checked her watch. Two o’clock. Time to go if she was going to be at the school on time. Mornings did have the advantage of allowing her to spend the afternoon with Cleo, so she accepted the trade-off of the too-early hours.