Know Your Heart: A New Zealand Enemies to Lovers Romance (Far North Series Book 2) (22 page)

He crossed the floor, dressed in a pair of Glen’s sweatpants and a tee shirt. Other than the brothers’ shared hair and eye color, there weren’t many similarities between them. James was slightly shorter than Glen but outweighed him by a few pounds in bulk. James also had a perpetual furrowed brow, looking as if he’d launch into lecture mode at any moment.

He took the glass from her hands with a murmured, “Thanks.”

Instead of disappearing back onto the deck, James carefully placed the glass on the counter. He sat on a barstool, moved his elbows onto the counter, and steepled his fingers.

Impending lecture in three, two, one…

“I want to apologize,” James said. “For calling you a bubblehead. It was inexcusable.”

The formality of his tone stung more than the initial insult. It wasn’t the first time someone who didn’t know her labeled her a bubblehead. What hurt was even after the four of them had dinner together, and later this evening played cards, after all that, James continued to address her with scrupulously cool politeness.

She could’ve passed it off as just the man’s way of dealing with strangers, except she’d seen him charming Lauren and Kathy before they left that afternoon. Another thing James had in common with his younger brother—an infectious laugh. Kathy had giggled like a schoolgirl at something he’d said.

“Don’t worry about it.” She retraced her steps to the microwave and popped the door. Transferring the mug to the counter beneath the kitchen cabinets, she hoped keeping her back toward him would give James the hint to leave. He’d only come inside to assuage his conscience, after all. “Really, it’s fine. Water off a duck’s back.”

It shouldn’t needle that Glen’s brother didn’t approve of her, should it? Wasn’t as if she and Glen were serious. Wasn’t as if she needed to find some kind of acceptance within his family.

“So. You and Glen.”

She located the box of hot chocolate mix and dragged it from the cabinet. “Yes. Me and Glen. Let me take a wild guess and assume you don’t approve?”

She banged the box down on the countertop, a puff of brown powder escaping under the lid.

“Is there something going on I’d disapprove of?”

Blood throbbed in her eardrums as she reached into the cabinet a second time for a packet of mini-marshmallows hiding behind the hot chocolate. Screw the diet.

“My relationship with your brother is none of your business. The only right you have to ask that question is with a father’s concern. So I’ll answer as if that’s what you meant. Tom has seen nothing inappropriate between me and Glen since he’s been here. Glen’s stayed in his room. I’ve stayed in mine. No sleepovers.”

James touched the point of his two joined index fingers to his lower lip. “You’re quite right—whatever dream-world you two have concocted up here isn’t my concern.” His eyebrows puckered inward. “But my son is under the delusion you’ll soon become his ‘Auntie Sav.’”

Sav brushed a greasy palm down her pajama pants and surreptitiously took a deep breath. Tom thought she and Glen were that serious? “We’ve been very discreet. I don’t know where he’s gotten that idea from.”

“My little brother thinks he’s head-over-heels in love with you. How is that
discreet
?”

James’ words had the power of an unexpected donkey-kick. Her jaw snapped shut, teeth nipping painfully on the edge of her tongue. He couldn’t have surprised her more if he’d flung off Glen’s tee shirt in a striptease while humming show tunes.

“Glen isn’t in love with me.”

The marshmallow packet clutched in her other hand dropped to the floor, her fingers numb like they’d fallen asleep. Marshmallows pattered over her bare toes in a spongy, soft cloud.

“You’re wrong. He’s not in love with me.” Somehow it seemed important to repeat this, since James looked at her with an expression he probably used on his kids when they were being stubbornly obtuse.

“The love word has muddled your hearing. I said, Glen
thinks
he’s in love with you. He isn’t, though. But he’s likely in love with the idea of being in love with you.”

“Well, that makes sense.”

“It makes perfect sense.” James returned to his former, finger-steepled lecture pose, a teacher imparting wise words to a struggling student. “He’s had a thing for you for years, and now here you are—falling into his bed, his fantasy come to life. Everything he’s ever wanted.” James dropped the steeple fingers and leaned on his forearms. “And you want him back?”

Her lips glued together with the sticky, molten fury burning through her system.

James nodded, as if she’d agreed out loud. “Yes, you do. And believe it or not, I’ve nothing against you, personally. I’m sure you’re as wonderful as Tom describes, and I’m sure you genuinely care about Glen.”

“I do. I care about him a lot.” She pushed each word out between clenched teeth. “So much so that I’ll choose not to throw this glass of water over your condescending, arrogant face.”

James jerked upright, wisely moving the glass out of her reach. “I’m glad you’ve got some spine. Because if you truly care about my brother, you’ll break this whatever-it-is off before you leave for L.A.”

Arguments that buzzed like killer bees in her throat died. “Oh.”

“Don’t let him fall in love with you for real, Savannah. He’s not a twenty-year-old who’ll bounce back like he did when you moved to Wellington and married someone else.” He shrugged when Savannah’s chin jerked up. “We might not be poster kids for
close
, but I wasn’t blind.”

A fever swept through her, burning, shivering, out of control. She clutched the edge of the counter, the surface steadying and cool under her flushed palms.

“Let him really fall in love with you, then leave for your new life in L.A.? Turn your back on him a second time?” James aimed the steeple-fingers in her direction. “It’ll shatter him.”

An image rose in her mind. Two days earlier she’d overslept, rising to find neither Tom nor Glen in the house. Following the path to the barn she’d heard laughter, rapid footfalls on the wooden floor, and a chink-chink-chink of metal against metal. She’d stopped in the barn doorway, jaw sagging at the two protective-masked men, foils slicing, dancing, stabbing at each other as they scuffled across the floor. Nate’s tall form and inferior skill was easy to identify—she remembered then he’d joined a fencing team at university for a while.

But Glen…skin glistened on his bare back as he relentlessly drove Nate away from him. The edge of his dagger tattoo peeped out above his pants, then disappeared under his chest protector’s white padding. Nate stumbled, and Glen lunged, a lethal cobra strike, the plastic tip of his foil hitting the center of Nate’s chest.

A muffled “Point!” from behind Glen’s mask as he pulled out of the lunge. Savannah hadn’t been able to drag her eyes off the tight mounds of his butt. His very, very fine butt. She must’ve made a noise, giving away her presence, as the mesh mask turned toward her, and with a quick hooking movement, Glen pulled it off. His eyes gleamed, freezing her across the empty space with the sheer power of his presence.

Power. Grace. Quiet strength that wasn’t limited only to his physique. How could she shatter someone so strong?

But want him? Oh, yes, she wanted him. But what terrified her more was that the wanting was a symptom of something bigger, something that infiltrated every part of her and now demanded her all.

“Savannah? You okay?”

She nodded, staring at her feet, the nails painted a pretty pastel pink. Glen and Tom had teased her while she sat on a deckchair, a rubber separator between her spread toes. Then with a wink, Glen took the brush from her hand and finished painting them for her.

“Maybe Glen is stronger than you think. Maybe he’ll decide to come to L.A. with me.”

Because then she wouldn’t have to break her own heart and walk away from him.

James tap-tap-tapped a finger on his glass rim. “And how would he support himself in L.A. when he couldn’t work as a lawyer?”

“He could write while I was on set…”

Even as she said the words, they left a bitter aftertaste in her mouth. Glen stay at home working on his book, letting her pay the bills, guarding what little time they had together, his niggling dissatisfaction slowly turning to resentment, and over time into passive rage…?

No
.

Glen was nothing like Liam. His pride and ethics wouldn’t allow her to provide for him financially. He’d be supportive of her, but the L.A. life, the life of a sitcom celebrity, wasn’t all roses and Hollywood dreams. And it wasn’t Glen’s dream, period.

James didn’t need to say another word.

“That wouldn’t work,” she said and wrapped her arms around herself, goose bumps popping out on her skin. “And neither would a long distance thing, especially if a second season goes ahead.”

“You’ve given this some thought, and you’ve realized the limitations of your relationship.”

“Yeah.” Sav crouched and retrieved a mini brush and dustpan set from under the sink. She scooped the fluffy chunks of pink and white marshmallows up and dumped them into the trash, her taste for sugar gone. She’d stick to plain, unsweetened hot milk. Like she’d stick to a plain, unsweetened-by-Glen life. Somehow, she’d accept their relationship’s limitations…its use-by date.

James slid the water glass across the countertop. “Well, I’ll leave you to it, then. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, James,” she said quietly.

He walked to the door and paused, pulling aside the drapes to reveal a star-studded night sky. “For what it’s worth…I’m sorry.”

The cold sparkle of stars beat against the glass, but the only thing she saw clearly was her reflection. Savannah Payne, mask in place, calling on her skills to present a calm woman with an appropriate hint of sadness. Nothing like the woman beneath the mask. One tap on that woman’s shoulder by the man sleeping in the master bedroom and her heart would explode into the atmosphere, broken into more jagged particles than stars in the sky.

Sav didn’t trust herself to speak, so she nodded and picked up her mug, turning her back on the dark, keeping her eyes on the light.

***

Something was off.

Glen noticed during breakfast when Savannah made her tea with full-cream milk. When she’d skirted around him as if he had a contagious skin disease. When she wouldn’t meet his gaze for more than a second at a time.

Huh
.

And the stick jammed up his brother’s ass seemed to have loosened overnight. Jamie cooked them all bacon and eggs, joked with his son, and even managed a genuine but strained smile after Tom announced his dad agreed to let him play at prize-giving.

“Once your exams are out the way though,” Jamie added.

“Yeah, Dad.” But after the eye roll, Tom continued to grin like a kid at Christmas.

“Great.” Savannah stood, the dining chair skittering backward. “You’ll slay them, Tom.” She picked up her plate which still contained most of her tiny portion of poached egg on wholegrain toast.

Glen’s eyes narrowed. She’d eaten half of the egg white and only nibbled on the toast.

“Will you come see me play, Sav?” Tom asked. “You’ll still be in Auckland then, won’t you?”

“Oh.” Tom’s plate, which she’d just slid under hers, rattled. “Well, I…” Her glance danced between Jamie, Tom, and then him.

An invisible fist gripped Glen’s gut so hard, he expected his breakfast to make an unexpected reappearance. She was pulling away, backing off. Retreating behind her walls where he couldn’t reach. His fingers turned to claws around his mug, gripping the china so hard the heat became uncomfortable.

She steadied a fork jittering on top of the plate and armed herself with a smile as fake as the effort she’d made to eat breakfast.

“I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try. You know I’m so proud of you.”

Tom shrugged. “Yeah, I’m pretty awesome.”

His dad nudged him in the ribs, and Tom shoulder-checked him back.

“If you miss it, Uncle Glen could get it on his phone and show you later, right?” Tom’s gaze flicked to Glen’s, his eyes certain with the knowledge that Savannah was now part of Glen’s life.

An assumption formed over hours of hanging out, debating
The Lord of The Rings
versus
The Hobbit
, talking about everything under the sun, and laughing…so much laughing. Savannah had evolved into part of Tom’s extended family circle in a way Tina never had. Savannah was his mentor but more importantly, his friend. She mattered to Tom.

And she mattered to Glen.

Too. Damn. Much.

Savannah wasn’t the only one who could fake a smile.

“Sure,” he said, lips two slivers of numb skin peeling back from his teeth. “I’ll make sure she sees you rocking the house one way or another.”

Tom’s nose crinkled. “Showing your age, Uncle Glen.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Glen stood and took the plates out of Sav’s hands before she dropped them. It gave him an excuse to walk away from the table so he needn’t endure his brother’s pitying gaze any longer.