Opposites Distract (19 page)

“Then give me something else to do.” He wasn't leaving the kitchen, she could tell.

“You're in charge of rice.” She told him how to cook it, and he measured out cups of water.

There was a small noise, and they looked up to find Bridget watching them. Harmony felt the familiar blush heat her cheeks.

Bridget smiled. “I came to offer some help, but you guys have got this. I'll see you at Tessa's.” She turned and walked away.

Harmony bit her bottom lip. She grabbed some more carrots to slice and cut her finger instead. Brody brought her a Band-Aid and fussed over her. Rolling her eyes, she snapped, “I'll live.”

When it was time to load everything up, Harmony kept a small piece of salmon for herself and piled salad next to it. “I've lost a lot of sleep lately. I'm tired. I'll catch up with Tessa tomorrow night.”

Brody scowled, but Ian and Bridget hustled him into the pickup and drove off with him. He gave her one backward glance as he went out the front door. He was upset, and she felt bad about that, but she needed some time alone.

She took her tray into the library and turned on the TV. The evening news was on, and she watched it while she ate. She hadn't kept up with world events since she got here, and she wondered how life on this planet was doing without her. Someone peeked into the room, and Aiden asked, “Can I come in?”

“Sure.” She moved her TV tray so that he could sit next to her.

“Do you still like us?” he asked.

Harmony blinked. “Brody and I think you and Bailey are the best kids ever.”

“Yeah, but we're kids.”

“That's better than being green slime or flesh-eating bacteria.”

He grinned. “You didn't read to us tonight. Mom did.”

“Brody's ribs are really sore. He can't hold Bailey right now, and he misses that, but I think your mom likes spending story time with you.”

He nodded. “It was nice, but we liked coming up to your room.”

“We liked seeing you.” She wasn't sure what else to say, but Aiden's attention was caught by the TV. He looked at it and hunched his shoulders. Harmony looked, too. Soldiers in uniform were carrying a coffin, draped with a
U.S.
flag, off a plane.

“That's how Dad came home.” Aiden's voice was small.

“Oh, God.” Harmony turned off the news. “I'm sorry you had to see that.”

“You would have liked my dad,” Aiden said. “He took me fishing.”

Harmony smiled, hoping it looked reassuring. “He liked spending time with you.”

“Yup. Brody told me he knows how to fish. He said the next time he comes to visit Ian, he'll take me fishing.”

Harmony's heart twisted in a knot. Brody would make sure he followed through on that promise. “He likes spending time with you, too.”

“Do you want to come?”

Harmony would rather shoot herself. “I can't sit still that long. You guys would toss me overboard.”

Aiden laughed. “Are you a good swimmer?”

“It depends how far out you are on the lake.”

Aiden reached for the remote. “Wanna watch
Spiderwick
?”

“What the hell is that?”

“A kids' movie. You'll like it.”

Sure she would, but Aiden wanted to hang out with her, and they sure as hell weren't going to watch the news. She shrugged. “Why not?”

He went to a shelf and loaded a DVD into the player. Monsters and evil filled the screen. Why wasn't she surprised? Kids' movies were always scarier than she expected. After all, Snow White's stepmother paid a guy to carve out her heart. But she and Aiden were both tired. Before long, they were blinking, trying to stay awake.

She woke to Brody tapping her shoulder. She opened her eyes groggily, and Ian smiled down at her. “Time to put the kids to bed, bro. I'll carry Aiden if you help Harmony up the stairs.”

She yawned and reached for her dirty dishes. “I'm okay. I'll clean these up and head to bed.”

“I've got these.” Bridget walked into view and cleared the TV tray.

Brody tugged her to her feet and put his right arm around her. “Come on, Sleepyhead. I'll tuck you in.”

He walked with her to her room, stopping in the hallway. He leaned down to gently kiss her goodnight. Before he could straighten, she deepened the kiss. When she pulled away, she said, “You're such a good person. Aiden needs you. He's ready to go fishing.”

Brody's gaze burned hot, but he shook his head. “I'll come back this summer. I promised him.” His hand went to his ribs, and she immediately started to apologize.

“I shouldn't have . . .”

“I liked it. I want more, but not now. For now, you need some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow.” He gave her a small push into her room and closed the door.

She leaned on it a minute, then jerked it open. Sticking her head out, she called, “Is someone staying with you tonight?”

“Bridget's sleeping on the couch. I'll be fine.”

That settled, Harmony walked straight to her bed, shrugged out of her clothes, and climbed under the covers.

S
omeone knocked on her door at nine in the morning. Oh, god, why? She tugged on the clothes she'd let drop on the floor and went to see who was there.

Tessa stood in the hallway with a basket of scones. “Your favorites, with dried cherries and pecans.” She had an insulated coffee pot in her other hand.

“Come on in.” Harmony went to plop on the side of the bed. She felt groggy, she'd gotten so much sleep, but she'd needed it.

Tessa fussed at the little table, pouring them tea. When Harmony frowned, she said, “I can't have caffeine. This is good. You'll like it.”

If it was hot and sweet, she'd be satisfied. Harmony reached for a scone. She and Tessa had been friends too long to stand on ceremony. She bit into it and groaned. “This is heaven.”

Tessa pulled a chair across from her. She glanced at Harmony's laptop. “How's the book coming?”

“I finished the first draft yesterday. You?”

“I feel like all I do is sleep, but I'm getting there, thanks to you and Brody cooking supper every night. Only fifty more pages. I missed you last night.”

Harmony grinned. “Aiden kept me company.” She told Tessa about the news and the soldier's coffin coming home.

“Paula's done a great job, helping them through their grief. I hope I'm as good a mom as she is.”

“You will be. Great people make great moms.”

Tessa finished her tea and set her cup on the table. Uh-oh, here it came. Harmony braced herself. “Great people make great
wives
, too.”

Harmony squirmed. She'd wondered what was coming. Now she knew.

Tessa looked like she wanted to shake her. Brody's sister had red hair, but Tessa's wild copper locks warned of temper, too. “You realize Brody loves you.”

Harmony nodded. She wouldn't play stupid. She knew.

“How do you feel about him?” Tessa asked.

“I love him back.”

Tessa let out a whoosh of frustration. “Then what the hell's the matter with you?”

“I'm scared.” Harmony's voice sounded brittle to her own ears. “I'm so
not
like anything else in his world. We don't fit. It doesn't matter here, but it will when he goes back to his country clubs and rich friends.”

“Brody knows what he wants. He's not like that.”

Harmony let out a ragged breath. “What if I'm not good enough? What if I suck at being a wife?”

Tessa leaned forward and pressed her hand on Harmony's knee. “But you
are
good enough. You always have been. It's just that no one's ever told you.” She stood up to leave. “Don't be as stupid as I was. I almost lost Ian because I didn't want to step up to the plate and claim his love. Don't drop the ball, because Brody won't try again. You'll break his heart, and he'll give up. He deserves better. So do you.”

Damn. Would Brody really give up? Because of her? Even as Tessa said it, Harmony knew it could be true. She needed another walk. She bundled up, left the lodge, and started down the driveway. When she reached the end, her Jeep pulled up beside her. She panicked when she saw Brody behind the wheel.

“What are you doing? You shouldn't be driving!” His left coat sleeve draped over his broken arm. The cast was too thick to fit.

“I'm not leaving the lot. Get in. I'll drive you back. A storm's coming.” He motioned to the dark clouds overhead. Once she was settled, he turned around, just in time. Sharp shards of snow pelted the windshield. He parked, but didn't turn off the engine.

She frowned at him. “Are you okay? Do you want me to leave you off at the front door?”

His face set, he stared out the window. “Let's leave here. Let's buy tickets and fly somewhere secluded and warm.”

“What? I like it here. Why would we leave?”

“Because I'm going to lose you. There are too many extras. You look ready to bolt, and I don't want you to.”

Tears misted her eyes. She rubbed at them. “I'm not a coward.”

“Neither am I, but I'm tired of being
all right
. I want to be happy, and you make me feel that way, like I have it all.”

She dug her nails into her palms, fighting for calm. “I drink. I cuss. I'm sloppy . . .”

He reached for her hand. “I don't care about any of that. I've met lots of women who are supposed to be perfect matches for me, and guess what? I don't feel anything. Harmony, I love you. I want to keep you.”

Tears
did
fall. “I'm ugly when I cry.”

“Not to me. Never to me.” His expression grew bleak. “Be mine, Harmony. I need you.”

Brody needed her. Her Brody. So big. So strong. “Okay.”

“Okay?” His grip tightened.

“If I don't leap in, I'll get cold feet. I'm scared, but I love you.”

His sigh sounded like it was ripped from his soul. “I can call a Justice of the Peace. We can make it official before we leave here.”

“Okay.”

He pulled her to him, and his kiss made her tingle from head to toe. There was so much more to Brody than she realized.

T
hey kept the wedding simple. All of Brody's family flew in for it and stayed in the lodge. Harmony thought about bolting when Brody's mom and dad, his sister Maeve and her family, and Bridget's husband and children arrived, but Brody kept an arm firmly around her waist and introduced her to everyone. The best part? They all made her feel welcome.

Bridget put it plainly. “You make Broody Pants happy. What more could we want?”

Paula, Aiden, and Bailey came to watch them get married in the huge lobby. Tessa and Ian had decorated it, and flowers overflowed on every table. Harmony wore a simple white dress she'd found in Mill Pond. Tessa was her bridesmaid, and Ian stood as Brody's best man. Brody had worried that Harmony's family hadn't been invited, but that was her choice, and she was fine with it.

Harmony had called her landlord to give notice on her apartment, and he'd been thrilled. He couldn't wait for her to leave so he could raise the rent. She'd move in with Brody until they found a house they wanted.

“Something comfortable with a French country feel,” he told his mom.

“With a huge kitchen and granite countertops,” Harmony added.

Brody couldn't wear a tux, because the left sleeve wouldn't fit over his cast, so he wore a suit instead and pinned the sleeve in place. He'd hired a caterer from Indianapolis so that Harmony and Tessa wouldn't have to cook, and there were fancy appetizers, wonderful food, and plenty to drink. He'd stocked up on Harmony's favorite wine. And when the wedding was over, he and Harmony climbed into her Jeep and waved their farewells.

“You're sure you want to drive to my place in New York?” he asked again.

She nodded. “What good is an expensive honeymoon when you can't get in the water? We could play in the sand on the beach, but we could only watch the waves.”

When they reached the intersection, he said, “Turn right.”

She frowned at him. “That's not the way to the interstate.”

“No, it's the way to the Indy airport.” He pulled two tickets out of an inner pocket. “Tessa said you'd never turn down a long weekend in New Orleans.”

She could feel her jaw drop. “I thought you wanted to go to someplace warm and secluded.”

“That, too. Later. Honey, you married a rich man. I can afford two vacations in one year. I can fly you anywhere you want to go.”

She leaned over to kiss him. She still wasn't used to an abundance of money. “New Orleans is famous for voodoo. I might put a spell on you.”

“You already have.” His voice turned gruff. “I never want it broken.”

Neither did she. Harmony made a right turn and knew she'd never look back. Her whole life had changed. With Brody, it would be bigger and better.

Please turn the page for an exciting sneak peek of Judi Lynn's next Mill Pond Romance coming in November 2016!

P
aula Hull walked with Aiden and Bailey to the end of the resort's driveway to wait for their school bus. The kids skipped and hopped, and she had to hustle to keep up. That was the thing about being short. Her legs had to do double time when she needed speed. Of course, if she lost twenty pounds it might help, but every chef tasted as they added ingredients. A hazard of the trade.

When the bus turned the corner, she planted a kiss on each kid. “Have a good day.”

“Mom!” Aiden winced. He was almost nine. She'd better enjoy smooches while she could, because next year there'd be no public displays of affection. He'd be too old, too cool. Bailey, six, bounced up and down next to her brother, anxious to get on the bus and see her friends.

“I want to show Maddie my blue fingernail polish!” She tugged on Aiden's arm. He grimaced, but tolerated it. Since their dad's death, he'd turned protective of her.

When the kids disappeared inside the bus and it pulled away, Paula started back to the lodge. Fast footsteps. Lots to do! Her assistant chef was starting today.

She paused briefly to look at the inn's limestone exterior, like she always did.
Lovely!
Because of her look—the stud in her cheek, her nose ring, and tattoos—people assumed she liked dark and dreary. Not so. She was a cozy girl, and the inn's three storied center with a wing off each end, its white trim, red double doors, and tin roof gave off a warm, homey feel she liked.

Move it!
she told herself. She huffed into the foyer and lounge. Wood floors. Beamed ceilings. Leather furniture grouped around a fireplace. She barely gave it a glance. Time to switch from Mommy to Chef. She took a deep breath as she headed to Ian McGregor's office.

When he hired her last June, he'd expected business to start slow, hoping it would grow steadily. He wasn't prepared for how popular the inn became so fast. He was scrambling to keep up. So was Paula.

“I'm sorry,” he told her. “You've gone from chef to jack of all trades.” But she'd suspected that might happen. Startups were always messy. No biggie.

With four suites in the west wing, four rooms on the second floor, another four on the third, and five log cabins near the lake, the inn could hold up to eighty people. Thankfully, it was only the end of April and kids were still in school. Every room was taken—had been since mid-March—but by couples. That meant thirty to forty people expected breakfast, lunch, and dinner in the dining room each day. Once June hit, things would get busier.

She hesitated before she opened the office door, collecting her thoughts. When Alex had died in the military, she'd struggled to hang in there as a chef for a prestigious New York restaurant. But restaurants demand lots of hours and she never saw her kids, so she'd come to Mill Pond to work for Ian. Thank God, the man was married and madly in love with his wife, or he'd be damned tempting. Her boss was a long slurp of eye candy who could hardly wait until his and Tessa's baby was born. Paula smiled, remembering. Alex had been excited when she got pregnant, but not like Ian. The man was already mapping out tennis lessons and fishing trips with his first born.

Fishing trips.
Paula sighed. It brought back memories of her Alex. He had been a fun father and took Aiden fishing every summer. The kids missed him. She'd moved here because she could keep the kids close.

“I can offer you the inn's east wing as an apartment,” Ian had said.

It had seemed the perfect fit, but then the inn had gotten so popular, she put in long hours here, too. She was still trying to find her way as a single mom, to find balance, but it wasn't easy.

“This isn't working,” Ian told her a couple weeks ago, and her stomach sank. Was he going to fire her? Hire someone younger, without kids? “You're working too many hours. You need help.” And he started looking for an assistant. Betty came in every day from ten to two—ready to do anything and everything—but she wasn't enough. Neither was Howard, who took Betty's place from four to eight. Ian realized that. He was good that way. He'd even asked her to sit in on the job interviews for an assistant chef, and they'd decided on Tyne Newsome, just off a long trek through Thailand.

“Here I thought you'd focus on cooking creds,” Ian teased her. “I didn't think you'd swoon over Tyne's looks.”

The man was nothing short of gorgeous, but looks alone didn't trip her trigger. She went for the aloof bad asses every time, and unfortunately, one happened to be delivering the inn's groceries every morning: Jason.

She gave a quick knock on Ian's door and entered the small room that held a table and his laptop. Bookcases lined the walls. Tyne was already seated across from their boss.

“Hey, you ready?” Ian asked, standing to greet her.

“Can't wait.” With an assistant, she might have time to breathe, to have a life.

She took the chair next to Tyne's.
Poor Ian.
He was going to have his hands full. First, he'd hired her—a Goth mama with a New York attitude. She'd grown up an army brat, always the new kid in school, a little on the wild side. Her looks told the world that she was who she was. Take it or leave it.

Ian took it. “Mill Pond is Midwest, but once they meet you and like you, you're in. They might balk at the stud, but they'll move past it. Besides, you're so cute, you can pull it off.”

Cute
. That had been Alex's word for her, too. She'd never win a beauty contest, or even be called pretty, but
cute
she could pull off. “What about the inn's guests?”

“After they taste your cooking, they won't care.” And so far they hadn't. Lots of cooks sported tattoos. Add a stud and a tiny nose ring, and guests barely blinked, but then Mill Pond was a bit on the eclectic side. Lots of artists and creative types. That helped.

Hiring her had been bad enough, but then Ian hired Tyne. The man was so hot Ian would have to hang a No Touching sign around his neck. Over six feet tall, he had tousled, dirty blond hair. A chin strap beard added a scruffy look. And dark brown eyes finished the package. Oh, and there was the body—all rock-hard abs and sinews. Teenage girls would cling to his ankles to worship.

Tyne raised an eyebrow at her. “Any second thoughts?”

“About what?”

“About allowing me in your kitchen. We have really different approaches to food.”

She shrugged. “That's why I like you. I don't want a carbon copy. I want someone to make this place stand out.”

His grin was as devastating as Ian's. Women would come here just to ogle. They'd be lucky if they didn't dehydrate from drooling too much.

Paula glanced at her watch, immune to their hotness. If they got the intros over with soon enough, she'd be in the kitchen in time to meet Jason when he made his deliveries. Her skin prickled. Her pulse pattered. Jason was no looker like these two, but he had swagger. He played it cool, uninterested. For her, a real turn on.

Ian leaned back in his chair. “We already went over all the specifics. Anything either of you want to ask or add?”

Tyne shook his head. So did Paula.

Ian grinned, dimples showing. “Then good luck to the two of you. This is going to be a fun mix.”

That was the idea—Tyne's international fusion dishes mingled with her classic, traditional style. Guests should have plenty to choose from. Mill Pond was a foodie retreat. There were so many specialty farmers and suppliers in the area, people expected more when they came here.

Paula pushed from her chair and Tyne followed her to the kitchen. She had everything ready to go for breakfast. Early risers could choose from cereals or homemade granola, fresh fruits, and rolls or donuts, but most guests opted for a leisurely breakfast at nine. She poured lemon-blueberry batter on the griddle for pancakes, checked the sausage patties, links, and candied bacon strips she'd already put in the warming oven, and started filling ramekins, nestled in a steel serving pan, for eggs en cocotte with smoked salmon.

Ian's wife, Tessa, owned a bakery and made a different kind of muffin each day. Today's were banana with a streusel topping. A toaster sat at the ready on the serving bar in the dining room, along with different kinds of breads, bagels, and muffins.

Tyne watched for a second, then pitched in. They worked in companionable silence until it was time for set-up. “A warming table?” he asked.

She nodded.

They carried everything out, put pitchers of juices close to the coffee urn and hot water dispenser, then retreated to the kitchen as guests came and went. She and Tyne flitted in and out to clear tables and refill empty pitchers. Women stopped, gawked. He didn't notice. In between work, he asked, “Same thing every morning?”

Paula shook her head. “This is the Tuesday and Thursday offering. Wednesdays, I make croissant French toast with a peach filling in place of the pancakes. Mondays and Fridays, I switch to a southwestern strata with sausage, and Saturdays are Dutch babies with fruit filling and whipped cream. I need to start those early while the kids sleep in.”

“And Sundays?”

“We serve a brunch buffet. We'll both have to work that one. Betty's helped, but she likes Sundays off.”

“Betty?” Tyne turned for an answer.

“She helps anywhere and everywhere, like most of us. Works ten to two, six days a week. Her bark's a lot worse than her bite.”

Tyne blinked. “I'll try to get on her good side.”

“You won't have to try too hard.” He was probably around thirty, like Paula, but parenthood had made her feel older, more responsible. Betty was in her sixties with two grown boys. She'd be tempted to take Tyne under her wing. “You've come to a good place to meet food people.”

“That's what I've heard, why I put in for the job. Ian said I could experiment, try to find my own style. Someday, I want to open my own restaurant. Mill Pond should give me lots of ideas.”

The clock hit ten and the last guest left the dining room. Paula started clearing it.

“No stragglers?” Tyne asked.

“This isn't a restaurant. It's an inn. We serve breakfast at nine, lunch at twelve-thirty, and supper at six. There are choices, but no menu. If a guest wants something else, there's a diner in town.”

“Reminds me of the summer camps my parents shipped me to as a kid, only classier.” Tyne's voice had a bite to it. That must have been a sore point.

Paula had to laugh. “Sort of the same idea, only Ian offers golf, tennis, horseback riding, and the lake.”

She'd barely mentioned his name when Ian bustled into the kitchen to pitch in with clean-up. Once school was out, a high school kid came to work the dishwasher for breakfast and lunch, but during the slower months, Ian offered a hand. When Betty strolled in, she joined them.

“Tyne, Betty,” Paula said in way of introductions. “Betty, Tyne.”

Betty cocked an eyebrow. Her hair was as salty as her attitude. “He's too cute to cook. You just chose him for his looks.”

Paula sighed. So did Tyne. “I've cooked in more than a dozen different countries,” he told her.

Betty shrugged. “So? No girl anywhere would turn you away—except maybe her.” She motioned to Paula. “All she does is work.”

Tyne rolled his eyes, but let it slide. He went back to helping Ian.

Paula had heard it before. Often. Even though Jason tempted her, it had been a while since she entertained the thought of being with a man. She'd pictured herself as a work horse for so long, she couldn't think of herself as sexy anymore. Alex had loved her curves and cockiness. She had a sharp tongue and a temper, but she'd put everything under wraps when he died. Literally. People would be surprised she had a figure under her chef coat and drawstring pants.

Betty gave a wry smile. “It's not going to happen, is it? Okay, do what you always do. Start cooking.”

Paula's comfort zone. She showed Betty the menu for lunch. The older woman glanced at it with a quick nod. “I'll get the buffet table and dining room set up, then start the sandwich fillings. You've already roasted the beef?”

“Yup, ready to go.” She and Tyne were slicing eggplants and Vidalia onions for today's veggie sandwich when the kitchen's back door opened. Paula stopped working. Her gaze followed Jason as he wheeled a stack of boxes inside, full of produce, meats, and supplies. Her pulse quickened, and the kitchen melted away as a backdrop. She turned to Jason with a smile. “Good morning.”

He gave a curt nod, ignored Betty—as usual—barely acknowledged Ian, then narrowed his eyes at Tyne.

Paula hurried to make introductions. “Jason, our new assistant chef, Tyne Newsome. Tyne, our delivery man, Jason Baxter. I don't have time to go to each of our suppliers every day. Neither do Chase or Ralph, in town, so Jason does it for us. We rely on him. He checks each item, fills our food lists, and delivers them.”

“Nice set-up.” Tyne glanced at the variety of suppliers' names on the boxes. “Chase and Ralph own restaurants, too?”

Ian nodded. “Ralph runs the diner. Chase owns the bar.”

“Where you from?” Jason looked Tyne up and down. “You don't look like a cook. No studs or tattoos like Paula here.”

Paula blinked, taken aback. He'd never mentioned anything about the stud in her cheek, never stared at her little nose ring or tattoos. She thought Mill Pond had gotten used to her pitch black hair, pulled up in a clip so it spiked at the back of her head, and her fondness for wearing black.