Love, Laughter, and Happily Ever Afters Collection (27 page)

He could see that. There wasn’t a single thing about her that cried out ‘damsel in distress,’ even given what could’ve happened to her back there. She wasn’t a leaf shaking in the wind over it, and it wasn’t because she was just made of tougher stuff either; he could see the weary, still-simmering terror in her eyes. She wasn’t over the situation by a long shot—she just appeared…acceptant of it. Simple as that.

And that intrigued him as much as it rankled. He remembered how devastated she’d looked at the wedding when she’d told him how she lost her sister to Huntington’s. He knew that devastation, knew exactly what that kind of loss did to a person. Simple acceptance was the last thing he’d expect from her.

The one thing he’d yet to be able to achieve himself.

“Why didn’t you scream?”

“What?” She looked up in surprise.

“When you fell, and when you saw the javelina—you didn’t scream. Not even a little. Why not?” He had to know.

She blinked as if the question, and the reason, had never occurred to her. Her shoulder lifted and fell in a no-nonsense shrug as she said simply, “I didn’t think anyone would come.”

When she smothered a pained wince as she bent down to get her keys from her now tattered bag on the ground, he reached for her again, not wanting her to go with an intensity that stunned him.

“Turn around.” He tried gentling his voice. “Let me check out your legs.”

Smooth, Sullivan. Real smooth.

At least that made her stop backing away from him though. Of course now she was just staring at him like he was nuts. “Let me check out your
injuries
,” he amended. “I have a first-aid kit in my car.”

“Oh. That’s okay. So do I.” She was back to cutting quickly across the lawn. Three more stealthy steps back. “I have a whole survival kit in there, in fact,” she continued on a cute ramble, “complete with food for a week, extra changes of clothes, and a small generator. I even have a SAM splint and one of those foldable pocket walking canes in case I break a leg or something.”

Well that was…unexpected. Brian wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. “Are you some sort of apocalypse radical or just on the lam from the authorities?”

Yeah…he should’ve just kept his mouth shut. The woman rattled him, infected him with that talking-out-of-his-ass virus he hadn’t had since he was a teen.

For some reason, however, that especially asinine comment succeeded in making her stop retreating. And laugh.

That laugh.

It was like hearing a Christmas carol on the hottest day of summer.

“I almost forgot how much I like you, Brian.”

Likewise.

“Listen, thanks again for saving me, but I really do have to run. I’ll ask Connor for your number and take you out for coffee sometime. Or pie!” She grinned. “Pie is better as a thank-you.”

Then she turned and ran off to the parking lot, leaving Brian to stand there and simply stare at her long ponytail windmilling around with every buoyant step she took.

The fact that she stopped suddenly and spun around at the edge of the lot to give him a final smiling wave had him completely off-kilter. She was freakin’ adorable as hell.

And absolutely, positively the last woman on earth he pictured himself being
this
drawn in by.

CHAPTER TWO

BRIAN GRABBED a bag of tortilla chips from the pantry and checked Connor’s fridge for some fresh guacamole. He knew Abby had a big presentation this past week with the intertribal education board members on her most recent research recommendations so he knew she had to have made a vat of guac to munch on while she’d prepared.

Jackpot.
He swiped the familiar glass tupperware off the top shelf and dug in.

“Don’t you have food at your own house?” complained Connor as he entered the kitchen.

“Not since you went and married my best friend,” complained Brian right back. He sighed in mock melancholy. “Abby’s guac used to be in
my
fridge every week. Not to mention the homemade cookies and all these great sandwiches she’d make for me to take for lunch.” At the fond reminders, his next sigh was less feigned. And utterly silent. While he was thrilled to have Abby as a sister-in-law now, he missed how close they used to be.

Not that he ever mentioned that fact to Connor or Abby. Even though he really was truly over his non-platonic feelings for her, any and all conversations on the topic generally ended up being pretty awkward for all involved, so he avoided it altogether.

“Nice of you to say hi before you raided my kitchen by the way.” Connor checked the time. “Tell me you haven’t been here since school let out.”

Brian saluted him with a loaded chip as a non-apologetic hello. “I just got here. Today’s faculty meeting was short. And since it’s my turn to take Skylar and Becky out for Friday night dinner, I’m just killing time until they’re done with musical theatre club rehearsals.” He looked around for the remote. Connor had a way better satellite sports channel package than he did. “I didn’t even know you were home. Where’s your car?”

“Abby took the Lexus to work since her car is in the shop again. I came home to get my tux and Abby’s dress for tonight. We’ve got another fundraising benefit to go to.”

“And you’re not concocting some excuse to get out of it?” Weird. Connor usually hated going to those functions.

“This isn’t for work. It’s for one of the charities Tessa and I have been helping out.”

At the mere mention of Tessa’s name, Brian’s hunt for the remote was instantly forgotten. Carefully keeping his voice neutral, he launched a very
casual
interrogation. “Tessa…that’s your caterer friend, right? The one with the pink-striped hair? What’s the deal with her? Why’d you end up picking a cook to help you with all your pro bono grant write-ups?”

“Because she’s damn good at it. Besides, the catering thing is just a part-time gig for Tessa and Lana. Lana started the catering company and asked Tessa to partner in because of all her dessert-making experience. Once upon a time, Tessa worked at a bakery for maybe five years, I think. But just like Lana, Tessa also has a day job. She’s the chief editor of the two sister magazines,
AZ Hotspots
and
AZ Potluck
.”

Brian was impressed. He knew of both those local magazines; the seasonal travel magazine was his standard reading material of choice in every doctor’s waiting room he’s sat in for the past few years, and he knew for a fact that the online cooking magazine was a huge hit with his colleagues at school. This Tessa was just full of surprises.

Feeling Connor quietly studying him, Brian looked up. “What?”

“You’re into her, aren’t you?”

“Who? The odd, opinionated woman who thought it was a good idea to have my daughter hack away at some fruits with a gigantic cooking knife at your wedding reception as a means to get her over her fear of knives? Fully aware that I’d bust a nut if I found out about it?”

Connor arched a knowing eyebrow.

Brian grunted and turned to grab a soda from the fridge. “Yeah. A little bit.”

* * * * *

HE WAS STILL THINKING about that ‘little bit’ the next day on his Saturday morning run. With Beth having been his high school sweetheart, and Abby being the only other woman he’d ever had any feelings for, Brian had a sorely limited dating experience database to draw on to analyze the matter.

“Maybe Connor had the right idea all along,” he muttered to himself as he hit the two mile mark and turned around to head back. He’d dogged Connor constantly about being a man whore with his one-month fling rule, but look how it had ended up. He got the girl, and he’d never lacked for female company all the way up until then.

Visions of Tessa began swimming around in his head then—images of that stubborn frown of hers that seemed to come as a combo pack with her dancing, dark-as-night eyes. It went hand in hand with the inexplicably cute way she seemed to just say exactly what she was thinking. And that killer smile.

No.

A girl like that wouldn’t be into casual flings. For all he knew, she already had someone she went home to every night.

Hitting the last mile mark, he pounded down harder on the pavement at a near sprint back to his house. Mostly to stamp out the feelings of jealousy crawling up his spine.

He had to stop thinking about the woman.

Yanking the iPod velcro strap off his bicep as he toed his sneakers off, he called out to see if Skylar was awake yet.

Silence.

Not surprising. The kid had spent most of the night on the phone with her BFF-since-daycare. And this was
after
he’d taken the girls out for pizza and ice cream. Seriously, the two were inseparable all week in school as well as every weekend at each other’s homes on alternating sleepovers—how on earth they still had things left to talk about on the phone was beyond him.

He grabbed a quick shower and set out with grand plans for cooking up a big breakfast instead of his usual cereal and sliced fruit specialty. He rocked that culinary masterpiece something fierce. Lately, however, Skylar seemed to be getting a little fancy in her taste palate. Probably from watching all those cooking shows she seemed to be into now.

As he passed Skylar’s still-closed door, he heard her talking quietly on the other side.

Geez, how much could two thirteen-year-olds possibly have to discuss?

But then he heard something that made him stop in his tracks.

That laugh.

Every single time he heard it, he was reminded of how long it’d been since he’d laughed like that. As if the universe wasn’t at times cruel and unyielding. As if the heart didn’t have limits to how much pain and disappointment it could take.

Then the next words he heard had him flipping his lid and grabbing for her door knob.

“Have you checked out those websites I told you about for the HD gene testing—”

“Skylar,” he thundered, using his break-only-in-case-of-emergency voice to breach her privacy without knocking first. “What’s going on in here?” His gaze sliced over to Skylar’s computer and the woman staring at him from the Skype screen.
Tessa.
When her face lit up just the tiniest bit for a split-second before quickly shifting to a calm, diplomatic smile—as if she hadn’t just been advising his daughter on a life-changing gene test, while looking as distractingly soft and sweet as ever—he felt his blood pressure shoot through the roof in two different directions.

“Hi dad,” hazarded Skylar carefully. “You remember Tessa, right? Uncle Connor’s friend from the wedding?”

Jaw locked, he merely nodded, keeping his eyes trained on Tessa.

Who took that moment to wave at him.

Good lord, the woman knew how to push his buttons without even trying. “Skylar, since when do you skype your uncle’s friends about your private health matters?”

...Matters that they’d already decided
against
.

“Dad, she knows so much about this gene-testing stuff. I was just asking her some questions.”

“Questions that should come straight to me or your doctor, or even your therapist.” He shot a pointed look at the screen. “Not to random adults you met once a few months ago.”

“Actually, we’ve talked a bunch of times since then over at Uncle Connor’s house—”

“Skylar,” Tessa broke in, “I think it might be a good idea for me to log off now because frankly, I’m a little worried my staying online is going to give your dad an ulcer.” She turned back to stare him straight in the eye then, locking horns with him as she added, “But feel free to skype me again anytime. You can ask me anything you want about the HD testing.”

Brian bristled. Clearly, the woman wasn’t
that
concerned about his stomach lining.

The screen blipped out to black and he swung his gaze back over to his daughter.

He didn’t even know where to begin.

Thankfully, the faint chirping of Skylar’s cell phone gave him a brief moment to put a lid on his temper and gather his thoughts. After all, it wasn’t Skylar he was pissed at.

“It’s Tessa.”

Exactly.

No wait, what? He looked up and saw Skylar waving her phone at him. “It’s a text from Tessa. She wrote,
‘
TELL YOUR DAD I’D LIKE HIM TO MEET ME FOR LUNCH OR DINNER ONE OF THESE DAYS SO WE CAN DISCUSS THIS. ANYWHERE HE WANTS, ANYTIME. HIS CHOICE
.’”
Skylar shrugged and gave him a wide take-it-up-with-management smile.

Another chirp.

“Um…”

“What does it say?” he barked.

“She texted, and I’m totally quoting her here,
‘
FIGURED THIS WAY HE CAN’T SAY NO
.’
End quote.” Her teeth flashed again as she gave him an innocent look. “That text was probably just for me.”

Great. Now Skylar was looking thoroughly entertained by the situation.

Another innocuous double blink. “Why don’t you meet Tessa tonight? I’ll be leaving for Becky’s right after lunch and won’t be back until late tomorrow.”

He knew she offered the oh-so-helpful comment just to keep him from being a hermit all weekend, but his now unruly imagination was having a field day with the suggestion.

“Fine,” he ground out. “She and I may as well hash this out as soon as possible.”
Uh-huh, whatever you need to tell yourself, buddy.
“Tell her dinner, 6:30 at the Italian restaurant the block over from her street.”

With a slow smile, Skylar tilted her head over to a do-tell angle. “How do you know what street Tessa lives on?”

Dammit. Busted. “Your uncle mentioned it. Just text her back, will you?”

She bit her lip to hide her grin when the chirping reply came back moments later.

He waited, not at all patiently.

“Errr…she wrote back,
‘
I PROBABLY WON’T BE HUNGRY THAT EARLY BUT THEY HAVE A GREAT HAPPY HOUR SO TELL HIM TO GO FOR IT. I’LL BE THERE AT SEVEN. BYE!’
Then a smiley face.”