Page 152 of Our Little Secret

Leah looked up sharply, as if she’d caught the sarcasm in Brooke’s words. “I know, I know, I’ve said it before,” she admitted, little lines creasing her brow. “And let’s be clear, Eli knows all about my previous marriages, but this time is different.”

“Of course it is,” Brooke said flatly. “And what about you, Eli? Been married before? Any kids? Or old girlfriends?”

Leah’s mouth dropped open.

Neal shot Brooke a look that warned her to be careful and Shep settled in next to Marilee, who stroked him absently, her attention fixed on Leah and the new man in her life, her future husband.

Eli took the questions in stride. “No ex-wives,” he said with the lift of one shoulder. “And no kids. At least none that I know of.” His cocky smile hardened a bit, and Brooke remembered the miscarriage, the blood visible in the water near the marina where theMedusawas docked. “There are a few women in my past, of course,” he admitted. “One in particular I always thought was the one who got away.” Leah’s smile faded for a second and she glanced sharply at him. “Then, though, I met Leah and everything changed.” He gave her a squeeze and her smile returned, though it didn’t seem to shine quite as brightly as it had earlier.

The ancient timer on the stove buzzed loudly and Brooke turned back to the kitchen, grateful for the distraction. Her head was pounding with a headache, her thoughts spinning, and it was all she could do not to panic.

This was all so wrong.

So very wrong.

“Look—the snow’s really pilling up!” Leah pulled Eli to the window overlooking the backyard. “There must be two inches already!” Leah was as delighted as a kid who thought she would miss school for a snow day. “Look, babe!”

Eli did stare out the window but, Brooke noted, as he looked at the glass, she sensed he wasn’t caught up in Leah’s enthusiasm.

Nor was he surveying the snow.

Instead, his reflected gaze caught hers. Cold. Piercing. Ruthless.

It turned her blood to ice.

“Brooke?” Neal’s voice brought her around. “The bread?”

“Oh! Crap! Right,” she said automatically as she turned to the stove, opened the oven door, and fumbled with the hot loaf. She dropped it onto a cutting board, but her mind was reeling. She was not about to serve goddamned Gideon Ross Christmas Eve dinner and . . . and . . .

“The soup?” Neal said, looking at her strangely.

“Oh. Sorry, sorry,” she said and saw that the chowder was at a roiling boil. She picked up the wooden spoon and dropped it into the pot, splashing hot broth onto her hand. “Ouch!”

“You okay?” Neal asked.

Brooke was already reaching into the freezer for the ice but found the old cubes frozen into a solid block. “Fine.” A lie, but one she could live with as she found an ice pick in the old knife rack and chipped off some ice, jabbing at the block ferociously.

“Taking out your frustrations?” Leah said from the living room.

“Something like that,” Brooke bit back and slid a knowing glance in Eli’s direction.

Sensing the festive mood on the verge of being destroyed, Leah said, “As I said, we brought champagne! It’s in the car—?” She motioned to Eli and in that cutesy voice she sometimes used when she was wheedling a favor, a high-pitched baby voice that Brooke detested, she said, “Maybe you can bring it in? With the luggage?”

“Sure.” He winked at her and turned on his heel to walk outside.

Brooke held the ice to her fingers.

The minute the door closed behind him, Leah rushed into the kitchen. “Isn’t he fabulous?” Then, finally understanding that Brooke was tending to the burn on her hand, said, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine,” Brooke snapped. “But tell me, what is all this about you getting married to this . . . this man you barely know!” Her hand smarting was making her more irritable than she was already feeling, feeding the panic she’d felt since the moment she saw Gideon posing as Eli. Now that he was out of the house Brooke saw no reason to dance around the subject.

“I know, I know, I know! It’s fast.”

“Speed-of-light fast!” Brooke countered as the ice melted, drizzling down her fingers to her palm.

“That’s the way it happens sometimes!” Leah said as Brooke found a plastic bag and loaded chipped ice into it. “I can’t believe how we met just when I’d sworn off men for good.” She let out a sigh. “It’s funny how life works, isn’t it? How fate steps in and makes decisions for you?” She glanced up at the crucifix still mounted on the wall, a relic from the past, and crossed herself fervently. “Nana would’ve said it was God’s work.”

“You think God was involved?” Brooke asked skeptically as she replaced the melting chip with the plastic bag.