Page 52 of Denim & Diamonds

February

“Wow.” Brock stood in the bathroom doorway and looked me up and down. “You look smokin’ hot.”

After deciding to stay for the weekend, I’d had the brilliant idea to invite his brothers over for dinner on Saturday night—something I was now regretting as I stressed about getting ready.

I smoothed the black leather skirt I’d paired with an emerald green silk blouse. “Is this too much? Should I change?”

Brock hooked an arm behind my back and yanked me flush against him. “Out of your clothes? Yes.”

I smiled and rested my hands flat on his chest. “I’m serious. Am I overdressed? And do we have enough food?” My idea of hosting was generally picking items from a menu at a restaurant that did the cooking and cleaning up.

“You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Though I hadn’t asked how I looked; I’d asked if I was overdressed. But before I could clarify, an odd aroma wafted through the air. “Do you smell that?”

“The roast cooking?”

“No, something else.” I wiggled out of Brock’s grip and let my nose lead the way. The stench grew stronger as I moved toward the kitchen, and my eyes nearly bulged from my head when I saw the oven. Flames! “Oh my God!” I ran to the baby while screaming to Brock. “ Fire, Brock! Fire! ”

I wasn’t about to stop for a closer look or attempt to put it out.

Instead, I scooped poor sleeping Patrick into my arms and bolted to the door.

He woke with a scare, and Oak followed us in hot pursuit.

From the landing outside, I watched as Brock pulled a fire extinguisher from under the kitchen sink, opened the oven door, and sprayed.

Thirty seconds later, he set the extinguisher on the floor.

“It’s out. It was contained to the pan. You can come back inside.

” He pulled the still-smoking roast out of the oven and placed it in the sink.

Fanning away the smoke, he shook his head. “I think I ruined your dinner though.”

I walked back inside with Patrick and Oak, leaving the door open behind me to clear the apartment of residual smoke. “What the heck happened?”

Brock grabbed a fork from the sink and moved the charred roast around in the pan. He lifted what looked like burned paper. “I think you might’ve forgotten to take out the pad that’s packaged under the roast to absorb juices when you put the meat in the oven.”

“Oh my God.” I closed my eyes. “I’m such a dumbass. Why, oh why, did I think I could cook a meal for eight people? ”

“It’s actually nine now. Fritz asked if he could bring some woman he’s been seeing. Sorry. I forgot to tell you.”

I let out an exasperated sigh. “No biggie. Nothing to feed eight or nothing to feed nine —doesn’t really make a difference, does it?”

“It’s fine. We’ll order pizza.”

“But I really wanted to make a good first impression with Linda.”

Brock’s attention shifted to the baby in my arms, and his eyes went soft.

“You just ran from the apartment like a bat out of hell carrying this little guy, without even thinking. Your first gut reaction was to take care of Patrick. Trust me, that’s all it’s going to take to make a good impression with Elvin’s wife. Linda’s gonna love you.”

“Did someone say my name?” A voice came from behind us.

I turned to find Brock’s brother Elvin standing in the open doorway next to a pretty brunette who was holding the hand of a little boy. She smiled warmly as she entered. “You must be February.”

I smiled back, though inside I was kicking myself in the ass for what I had on.

Linda was dressed in a pair of jeans and a simple navy sweater.

Of course she is . I was an idiot for putting on this fancy outfit.

I was in Meadowbrook after all, not a restaurant in Midtown.

Great, now I’m overdressed and set our meal on fire.

Elvin fanned the air. “What happened in here? You trying to set the mood with a fire without a fireplace?”

Brock cleared his throat. “I accidentally left the absorbing thingy on the bottom of the roast. It caught fire. ”

I generally owned up to my mistakes, but just this once I was going to let Brock take the hit. I looked over at him and mouthed thank you . He winked and wrapped an arm around my shoulder.

Meanwhile, Elvin set two big casserole dishes on the counter. “Linda made a couple of apps—taco dip and stuffed mushrooms.”

“The dip needs to bake for twenty minutes at three-fifty,” she said. “But the mushrooms just came out of the oven, so they should be ready to serve.”

“Did someone say stuffed mushrooms ?” Trevor walked in the still-open door.

He set a big foil-wrapped tray down on the counter and lifted the lid from the one Linda brought.

Popping a mushroom into his mouth, he smiled and shut his eyes.

“Mmm… When are you going to divorce my dumbass brother and marry me, Lin? You know the way to my heart is through my stomach, and I love these things.”

Elvin rolled his eyes. “Ignore him. He sees a woman with a baking dish and automatically proposes.”

Trevor smirked. “My new lady made stuffed manicotti. She’s Italian and makes a mean Sunday sauce.”

Linda looked to me and put out her hands. “May I?”

It took me a second to realize she was asking to hold Patrick, who was still in my arms. The fact that I’d forgotten I was holding him was a testament to how comfortable I’d grown taking care of a baby over the last two days. “Oh sure. Of course.”

Just as I was about to pass him to Linda, Patrick burped and spit up.

It splattered all over my silk blouse. But I just smiled.

I was actually relieved to have a reason to change before anyone else arrived.

I wiped his mouth and kissed his little forehead, handing him to Linda as I silently thanked him for helping me out.

I pulled a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt from my bag and went into the bathroom to change.

Brock slipped in with me and closed the door behind him. “I came to see if you were good.” His eyes dropped to my lacy bra, and he grinned. “But now I’m feeling pretty damn good.”

I smiled. “I’m okay.”

“I hope Patrick didn’t ruin your blouse.”

“I couldn’t care less.”

Brock studied me a moment. “You mean that, don’t you?”

“Of course.” I pulled off my leather skirt and yanked on the comfy jeans. “I was happy for an excuse to change. Why didn’t you tell me how overdressed I was?”

He shrugged. “I was too busy taking in how beautiful you looked.”

“I want to fit in, not stand out.”

“Sweetheart, you could wear a potato sack and you’d stand out in any room.” He cupped my cheeks and tilted my head up so our eyes met. “You’re different than a lot of the folks around here, but that’s nothing to be ashamed of. You stand out in all the best ways.”

My insides melted. “For a man of few words, sometimes you know the right thing to say, Brock Hawkins.”

He kissed my forehead. “Come on, let’s get this dinner over with so I can have you all to myself again.”

That evening, I learned a thing or two about the Hawkins men.

For one, they could really eat. Not only did they devour half-a-dozen dishes that people brought, they also polished off four pizzas, three bags of chips, two containers of dip, and two cases of beer.

Patrick, for his part, had been in good spirits all night, considering he’d been passed around from person to person.

Only in the last fifteen minutes had he started to get fussy.

Linda tried rocking him, but that didn’t help.

Brock changed his diaper and attempted to give him a bottle, but nothing seemed to console him.

“Would you mind holding him for a minute?” Brock asked. “I left his yellow blanket in the car. Maybe he wants that. He sometimes grips it in his little fist while he sleeps.”

“Of course. Go ahead.”

Brock passed me the baby, but before he could finish pulling on his flannel, Patrick miraculously stopped crying.

Linda smiled. “Looks like he didn’t want food or a blanket after all. He just wanted a certain someone.”

This little guy was doing me all kinds of favors today. I looked down at his sweet little face. “Must be beginner’s luck.”

“Or you have the magic touch.” Linda glanced over at Brock, who was currently looking at me with a face I couldn’t put my finger on, yet I liked the way it made me feel inside. “With both these Hawkins boys.”

***

Eventually the crowd thinned out, and it was only Elvin and his family left.

Patrick was sleeping in his bassinet, and Elvin and Linda’s son, Michael, was knocked out on the couch.

I finished loading the dishwasher while Brock went downstairs with his brother to get some boxes of baby clothes out of Elvin’s truck.

Linda took a seat on a stool on the other side of the counter and motioned to the last bottle of wine. “Should we open that?”

I smiled. “I’ve been dying to, but I didn’t want you to think I drank too much around the baby.”

Linda laughed. “I like my wine, and I’m not one to judge. Plus, children are the reason alcohol was invented.”

She grabbed the bottle opener and deftly removed the cork. Pouring two glasses, she pushed one over to me before taking a big sip. “I have to say, I’ve never seen Brock look so happy.”

“He’s really a natural with Patrick, isn’t he?”

Linda set her glass down. “He is, but I don’t think that’s the only thing making him glow. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you all day.” She paused and ran her finger along the bottom of her glass. “Did you know I used to be an actress?”

In fact, I did not. “Really?”

Linda chuckled. “Don’t look so shocked. I wasn’t a very good one. But I was in some commercials and stuff, a few small-budget films.”

“Does that mean you’re not from Meadowbrook?”

She shook her head. “L.A.”

“Wow. How did you wind up in Meadowbrook?”