“Sure. Right now, it’s giving…I’m totally conflicted and not sure what I want to be.” Tam eyed me as she chewed her pizza, then said in a gentler tone, “Was that your goal?”
The weight of always feeling slightly out of step with everyone else made my shoulders tight.
Rolling my eyes, I retrieved an open bottle of wine and a glass from the laundry room that also served as my temporary wine cellar. “You want?” I asked Tam, lifting the bottle. “I can open a fresh bottle.”
She shook her head, so I poured the remaining half bottle into my own glass.
“Delaney.” Tam used her sister voice again. “Why not find something that reflects your style but also works with the house?”
I shook my head in disgust. “You sound like Brewer. He said the same thing after the vanity incident.”
“So why didn’t you listen,especiallyafter the vanity incident? I know you’re stubborn. It’s part of your charm. But I’ve never known you to be stubborn to the point of…” She wrinkled her nose at the cabinets. “Madness.”
“Because he’s bossy. He never explains his reasoning; he just acts like he knows best all the time, and I’m supposed to automatically trust him. And he gets this expression like…” I gave Tam a disparaging eyebrow lift. “His jaw gets all tight, and his eyes go all crinkly at the corners, and… he doesn’t listen.”
That look made me want to strangle him… and also kiss him until both of us forgot what we’d been talking about.
“So you decided you wouldn’t listen to him?” Tam gave me a scathing look and tucked a caramel-colored curl behind her ear. “Sure. Great plan. That’ll show him.”
Unlike me, Tam had always moved through the world with easy confidence—whether on the hockey rink or in motherhood. Her entire being radiated a sense of belonging that I’d never quite managed to capture for myself.
I gulped at my wine. “You wouldn’t understand, Tamsen. You get along with… people like that.”
“People who know how to do their jobs?” she retorted. “And have tons of satisfied clients?”
“No! Big, beautiful, muscly…” Feeling my face heat, I stared into the depths of my wine. “Never mind.”
The past week of cohabitation had been a special kind of torture. Brewer had been scrupulously polite, moving through the house like some kind of renovation ghost, materializing when I least expected him with tools in hand or, like this evening, coming out of the bathroom.
The image of him like that—water droplets sliding down his chest, towel knotted precariously low on his hips, body like a marble statue but so much warmer—flashed in my mind. His broad shoulders had tapered to a narrow waist, skin golden in the hallway light, dark hair curling damply at his nape. The brief glimpse had been enough to burn itself into my memory, and thinking of it now made my mouth go dry.
I took another gulp of wine.
Was it any wonder I’d taken to hiding in my office, emerging only when necessary… especially after what I’d heard through the wall that morning?
“Ahhh, I see.” Tam moved her fussing daughter out of the sling and onto her shoulder. “This isn’t about who’s right. It’s about you not feeling incompetent in front of someone you’re attracted to.”
“I’m not… That isn’t…” I blew out a breath and motioned toward the cabinets. “I’m tired of looking at these things. Let’s move to the living room, shall we? I’ll even light a fire.” I shot her a look before she could tease me again. “In the fireplace.”
“That’ll be a first,” she murmured, following me out of the disaster kitchen.
I knelt in front of the fireplace and attempted to start a fire, following all the standard best-practice advice. I wadded newspaper into balls, arranged them under kindling with competent precision, and placed a few logs in a crisscross pattern on top.
But after three attempts to light it, I’d barely managed to make the paper catch before fizzling out, leaving the logs untouched.
“Here. Take your niece, and let me do it.” Tam transferred Tierney to my arms. “Before people start talking about how you burned something else down.”
I held the baby in the crook of my arm while Tam knelt and did something with the newspaper that made the logs catch in minutes.
“You make that look so simple,” I said, mildly irritated.
“It is.” She stood and dusted her hands. “When you have practice. Remember, the summer after Mom died, Dad tried teaching us survival skills? You sat on a log reading the fire-building manual out loud while Law and Wells and I had a competition to see who could build the biggest blaze?—”
“And nearly set the woods on fire? Yeah.” I rolled my eyes. “Ironic that everyone acts like I’m the fire hazard now.”
“I was joking. Nobody around here actually thinks that,” she scoffed, curling up on one end of the couch. “You said the camper fire was an accident, and from what I’ve heard, Brewer says the same.”
“It was. A series of several accidents, actually—” I broke off when Tierney started to fuss.
