Chapter
Four
Clara carried a green salad and dressings outside to the patio table, grinning at her youngest brother, Lincoln, grilling the chicken for dinner. Of course Linc couldn’t simply watch the marinated chicken pieces to make sure they weren’t burning and flip them on the grill. He had music blasting from his phone and was dancing and singing to a popular song, using the spatula as his microphone.
She was relieved it was only her, Lincoln, and Brex for dinner tonight. Her parents had a dinner at the church. Her other siblings were either living out of the valley for work or school or had their own homes and she hadn’t felt the need to invite them. Like Linc with cookies, she wanted her fair share, and then some, of the fascinating Brex. Did he think she was a loser being thirty years old and not having her own home?
Her focus throughout high school, college, and adulthood had been her mission trips and raising money for supplies for the schools and orphanages they supported in various countries. Living expenses were set up in the foundation, but she didn’t use much of the money transferred into her account, only for rent money her parents didn’t want, material to make clothes for herself, toiletries or shoes for herself, or presents for family and friends on holidays. She was trying to save for a home.
“‘Hey … I had some help’,” Linc sang at the top of his lungs as he flipped a piece of chicken high in the air. The chicken missed the grill completely and splatted on the concrete patio.
“Linc.” Clara shook her head and laughed.
He whirled around with that irresistible grin. All of her siblings were a mix of their parents’ heritage. Linc had inherited their dad’s red hair and height but their mom’s brown eyes and caramel-colored skin. He had a unique and handsome look, but it was his fabulous attitude and humor that made him special in her mind.
“Baxter was hungry,” Linc said with a wink.
Their dog Baxter, a spunky Border Collie, gobbled the chicken then ran off, doing laps around the yard.
The doorbell rang. Clara dodged in front of her brother. “You focus on flipping the chicken onto the grill, not the ground, or you won’t get any.”
“Ah, sis. You know how hungry your boy always is.”
“Then stop wasting the chicken on Baxter.”
“Dissing on our dog now?” He shook his head, wagging a finger at her, but he turned back to the grill, already singing along to his song before she’d made it halfway through the main living area.
She slowed her pace as she reached the entryway. Looking through the sidelight, she was rewarded with a glimpse of Brex. Tall, dark, and handsome didn’t do enough to describe his mesmerizing brown eyes, manly and sculpted face, and ultra-tough body.
Pulling in a quick breath, she wished she’d thought to check her makeup, but Brex had met her hiking with no makeup and her hair in a ponytail and seemed interested. The little bit of mascara, eyeliner, and lip gloss she wore didn’t change her face to model-perfect. Did Brex usually date models, actresses, or influencers? She was afraid to find out what his type was but knew she’d be asking Melody to do a deep-dive social media investigation on her new friend.
She yanked the door open wide.
“Hey,” she said. He looked just as good in a dusty blue Henley that matched his eyes and gray golf shorts as he had in workout clothes this morning. She made most of her own clothing and knew material. It was easy to recognize that Brex’s clothing was high-quality and expensive. He wore it well. Could such a classy, upscale guy—what her twin brothers Talon and Wade would call a ‘swanky pretty boy’—fit in her valley or with her? There was an obvious wide gulch between their social and economic standings.
“Hey.” He handed over a spring bouquet of flowers. Their hands brushed, and his gaze trailed over her face. “You look incredible.”
“Thank you.” With understated makeup taught to her by her younger sister Melody who was a social media expert, her dark hair in long curls, and a floral sundress that showed off her shoulders and legs, she felt attractive. His compliment and that look surpassed ‘attractive’. She felt like she sparkled.
Brex bent and softly kissed her cheek. He smelled delicious, like a mixture of musk and clean linen out of the wash. His lips made tingles erupt from her cheek and throughout her body. She felt like she was in a movie where the dashing and charming hero with movie star looks brings the simple farm girl flowers and kisses her on the cheek. She loved it, but it felt far from reality.
He stepped back, and she clung to her flowers, swaying from the impact of that simple kiss.
“Did you just kiss me?” she asked, breathless and increasingly disoriented.
“Only on the cheek. My mother taught me to bring a gift to the hostess and a kiss of hello.” He smirked and arched an eyebrow. “Should I have made the hello kiss on the lips instead of the cheek?”
“I think I’m going to pass out.” She fanned her face with her free hand. His lips on her cheek made her head spin. What would his lips on hers do? She was unprepared for such deliciousness. “Water. We need water.”
He directed her through the entryway and toward the living area, wrapping his arm around her waist. She felt even more faint and leaned into him. The contact of her arm pushing against his abdomen added to the disconcerting euphoria.
They reached the kitchen, and he glanced around for a glass. “You need water … so you don’t pass out from a kiss on the cheek?”
“No.” She grinned up at him. “For the flowers.”
He chuckled. “You got me.”
She stared up into his brown eyes, trying to remember to keep her distance. She couldn’t risk another boyfriend dying. Brex’s foot slipping on the edge of the cliff this morning had brought back all those awful memories.
Distance from Brex felt impossible at the moment.
“Sis!” Lincoln called out in a singsong voice. “I need a platter, or all the chicken will be burned and I’ll have to give it to Bax-ter.”
She laughed and pulled away from Brex. “Coming.” Turning, she grabbed a small platter and hurried out the open sliding glass door. Brex followed.
She handed the plate over to Lincoln. “Linc, this is?—”
“The man, the myth, the legend. You’re Brexten Cabella, Aiden Porter’s top operative and all around stud.” Lincoln grinned. “Clara couldn’t keep her jaw from flapping about you.”
“Ah,” Clara protested, even though it was true. She’d gushed about details from this morning and Lincoln had dug for more.
Lincoln shoved the platter and the spatula at Clara. “Please get the chicken off for me, sis. Pretty please. I need to shake Brexten’s hand like a man.”
Clara smiled. She didn’t mind. She lifted the chicken off the grill and shut it off while Lincoln shook Brex’s hand and gushed. He kept repeating he couldn’t wrap his mind around Brex really and truly working for the Aiden Porter.
They sat down to eat and after the prayer, Lincoln waited while Brex and Clara took what they wanted to eat. After asking several times if they’d indeed gotten all they wanted, he dumped the rest of the grilled chicken, cheesy bacon potatoes, and four slices of homemade bread onto his plate. He didn’t waste space for the salad.
Then he grilled Brex with questions while Brex and Clara ate and Lincoln consumed his food. Brex was patient and funny with Lincoln. Sometimes he couldn’t answer a question, explaining it was information that he couldn’t reveal. Lincoln loved that ‘super-spy guy’ answer and also loved anything Brex could reveal.
When Lincoln had devoured everything on the table but the salad, he announced, “It was delectable, sis, mostly thanks to my superior grilling skills. I’ll clean up quick, then I’ve got to jet. The boys are meeting at the park to pickle the ball, and I’ve got to smash them.” He made a motion like he was holding a paddle and slamming it into a ball, then turned to Brex. “Thank you so much for coming to dinner and answering most of my questions, Brex. You’re the best. I want to have your rizz someday, and I’m stoked you’re dating my sis!”
He grinned, leaped to his feet, and started hauling serving dishes into the kitchen before Clara could correct that they weren’t dating.
Brex turned to her with a lifted eyebrow. “Will he really clean up before he goes to meet his friends?”
“Oh, for sure. He’s always happy to clean up because he likes to eat so much and if he leaves a mess, we all threaten not to cook or grocery shop for him.”
Brex chuckled at that. “He is the friendliest and most impressive sixteen-year-old I’ve ever met.”
“He’s ‘the best’ like he always says.” She nodded. “We all worry we’re going to spoil him as the youngest and him being so ‘well loved’ as my mom likes to say. But in my personal opinion, he’s as generous and fun as any teenager around.”
“I can agree with that.”
He grinned at her, and she decided she really, really liked him. He shook his wrist and glanced at his watch.
“Do you have to be somewhere?” she asked him.
“Oh, no.” He glanced at his watch, then back at her. “Sorry. Habit.”
“Nervous habit? Like I make you nervous?”
He grinned at that. “Maybe.”
Of course he was teasing. He was too poised and accomplished to be nervous around her.
Lincoln rushed back out onto the patio, grabbing the rest of the serving dishes and announcing, “Did you want any of those cookies you made, Clara, or should I just take them all to the boys?”
“Linc. Don’t you dare steal all of those cookies!” She sprang to her feet and pushed around her little brother, who was twice her weight and half a foot taller than her.
“I wouldn’t steal all of them. Just a plate or two.” He looked as if she’d wounded him.
“Yeah, right. I know how you think.” Clara laughed and gathered up the paper plates and cups from the table to throw in the garbage.
Brex helped her and Lincoln and before long, everything was cleaned up or put away.
“I thought those cookies were for me,” Brex said, pointing to the trays of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies on the linoleum counter top.
Clara loved her parents’ spacious, comfortable, and clean, though outdated home. What did Brex think of it? Was he used to ultra-modern and fancy living spaces? Views of the ocean and all stainless steel and glass?
“They are,” Clara said, giving Lincoln a warning look.
“Ah, no way. Bad plan, my man,” Lincoln said. “You’re all built and buff. I don’t think you want that much sugar racing through your body. As a teenager, I can metabolize sugar and not have it affect my studliness.” He flexed. “But though you’re a legend, you’re kind of an old man, like what are you, almost thirty? You could damage your perfect physique with more than a few cookies.”
“I’m thirty-four, and I’ll take my chances.” Brex chuckled and winked at Clara.
Thirty-four. She liked that. He was the perfect age for her. He seemed ideal in every way. If any man was worth letting down her guard for again, it would be Brex. He was classy but too tough for someone to murder. Like James Bond. Yet her other boyfriends’ deaths had all been seemingly accidents. Anyone could die in an accident. Her gut turned over at the thought.
“One plate,” Lincoln begged, putting his hands into prayer mode when his reasoning with Brex had failed. “The guys all love your cookies, my favorite and most beautiful sis.”
Clara and Brex both laughed. “One plate,” Clara said. “And promise you’ll share some with your friends.”
He grinned impishly, folded his hands under his chin, gave her an innocent, little boy look with his big brown eyes, and quipped, “May-be,” drawing out the word.
Clara laughed harder, exchanging a look with Brex. He grinned back at her as if he agreed that her little brother was the most hilarious and adorable teenager on the planet.
Lincoln overloaded a paper plate with cookies, inhaling four while he worked. He wrapped the plate in three layers of Saran wrap and then gave her a hug and Brex a fist bump. “Thanks for answering my questions. You’re the best! I hope you fall madly in love with my sis and I get to see you all the time.”
He winked at Clara, gave a silly wave with his fingers wagging but his hand not moving to Brex, and ran for the garage.
Clara couldn’t meet Brex’s gaze after that proclamation. She hardly knew him and Lincoln had just made this completely awkward. Knowing her teenage brother, he’d done it on purpose. Sometimes he seemed far too innocent and unaware, but not always.
“Clara.” Brex stepped closer to her.
She glanced up. His brown eyes were … uncertain and stormy.
“I … don’t know what to say,” he admitted.
“Don’t say anything,” she said quickly. “Linc’s a silly teenager. It didn’t mean anything. Cookie?” She grabbed a cookie and handed it over.
Brex’s eyes settled and he grinned, probably relieved she wasn’t boxing him into a corner when they hardly knew each other. He took the cookie and a large bite. Chewing slowly, he studied her. Why did he look so intense and alluring if he didn’t want to fall madly in love with her and didn’t know what to say to her brother’s teasing?
“Delectable,” he murmured. He took another step in and extended the last bite of the cookie. “Would you like a bite?”
She’d already eaten enough cookie dough to satiate her sweet tooth for a while, but she could only nod in response. She opened her mouth and he gently placed the bit of cookie on her tongue. His fingers brushed her lips as he pulled back. She chewed and swallowed the delicious mix of brown sugar, butter, and chocolate, her eyes focused on him.
“Clara.” He framed her hips with his hands against the counter, leaning in and setting her body on fire. “I’m only here for a short time and I’m sadly not in a position to ‘fall madly in love’.” He swallowed and his gaze swept over her face.
Clara felt the sting of disappointment. Not that she expected him to fall madly in love with her, but it still stung. What woman wouldn’t want Brex to fall madly in love with her?
“But I’d like to see Lincoln again,” he said.
“Lincoln?” she managed. Was he teasing, or was it an olive branch? He was only in town for a while, but he liked Lincoln and maybe he liked her too.
“Yeah.” He eased even closer, his chest brushing against her, his arms encircling her from the side, his body pressing her into the counter. “I’d really like to see Lincoln’s sister again. Share more cookies and kisses hello on the cheek.” He arched an eyebrow, and she got hot all over.
“If hello is a kiss on the cheek,” she said through her dry throat, forgetting all about the awkwardness of a moment ago and him not wanting to fall in love with her, “what happens at goodbye?”
His mouth curved in an enticing smile. “I guess you’ll have to wait and see.”
Fire raced through her. “I don’t want you to leave,” she admitted. “But maybe it’s time to walk you to the door.”
He chuckled at that but then leaned even closer. She inhaled his musk and linen scent. “Maybe we should practice goodbye right here in the kitchen.”
Clara’s stomach swirled with butterflies. She ran her hands along the firm muscles of his arms and up to his shoulders. He quivered under her touch. Maybe he wasn’t ready to fall madly in love. She shouldn’t be either and she shouldn’t long for love when she was a boyfriend killer.
But something was happening between them, sparks unparalleled in her experience. She wanted to explore their connection and the warm tingles erupting inside her.
She arched up as he bent down.
The doorbell rang.
Clara bit back a groan of frustration.
Brex swiveled from studying her to glance toward the wall blocking them from the entryway. He looked back. “Dare we hope they go away?”
Clara laughed. “We can hope.” She entangled her fingers in his short dark hair and urged his head down toward hers.
His grin made her knees weak.
A pounding came on the door.
“Maybe if we sneak out back,” he whispered against her lips.
“I like that idea.”
Before they could move, she heard the door fling open and calls of, “Clara! Where are you, girlie?”
Her stomach sank. Usually she loved to see her sister.
Tonight she wanted to curse the interruption.