Here With You Read online

  Even though she’d seen more of Carter’s naked skin than Brady’s, it was the older brother who warmed her from the inside out.

  Who would have thought?

  “What’s for dinner tonight?” He towered over her, lifting the foil from the pan. “Smells good. Not too garlicky.”

  “Sorry about that.”

  “Who am I to complain? Beats frozen waffles and cereal for dinner every night.”

  “I sampled the tetrazzini before I came. It’s safe. Promise.”

  “Again. No complaints here.” He scratched his naked chest, and Grace caught the lingering effects of his soap. Nice. Clean.

  Still not Brady.

  “I’ll see you later.” Grace moved past him toward the back door.

  “You’re not going to eat with us?”

  “No. You guys enjoy.”

  “Let’s at least go through your website. You mentioned wanting to change one of the windows?” Carter opened his laptop on the kitchen table and patted the seat next to him. “Show me what you want.” A wicked grin escaped his lips. “Interpret as you may.”

  Grace laughed and shook her head. “You’re pathetic.”

  “You love me anyway.”

  She parked herself next to Carter and took the laptop from him, logging into her account.

  It didn’t take him long to add a new window and the graphics she found on a free photo site.

  “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

  Carter bumped his still naked shoulder against her. “For you, doll, anything.”

  “What’s going on?” Brady’s deep, yet soft voice asked from the archway. His hooded gaze was dark, his lips tight as if holding back an angry tirade of words.

  “Just hanging with our girl here. She made us dinner.”

  Brady’s glare didn’t budge from his brother. “You could put a shirt on.”

  Carter must have sensed a trace of jealousy or annoyance in his brother. He broke out into a shit-eating grin and stretched his arms back, one resting casually on Grace’s shoulder.

  Brady clenched his jaw and sniffed. Still, his eyes remained fixated on his brother. A low moan from down the hall had him spinning around and rushing off.

  “Your mom’s having a rough day?”

  “Yeah. That’s what Brady said.” Carter dropped his arm, his shoulders following suit. “I took on three new clients this week. Left for Portland at the ass crack of dawn, and I just got back.”

  Which meant Brady was with his mom all day long. “I should go. All three of you must be exhausted.” Grace pushed back her chair and stood.

  “You sure I can’t convince you to stay for dinner?”

  “I appreciate it, but you three need to rest. I’m sure your mom doesn’t want company in the house when she’s suffering.”

  “Stay,” Brady’s voice said from behind her.

  Carter smirked over the top of her head at his brother. “Guess I should get dressed if we’re going to have company for dinner.” He clicked his tongue at her and strolled out of the kitchen.

  Grace avoided Brady and helped herself to the cabinets, finding a pot and filling it with water. Once it was on the stove, she put the chicken dish in the oven to warm. Needing a bowl for the salad, she turned and bumped into Brady’s chest.

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  “You apologize a lot for a woman who’s done nothing but help us out.” Brady’s eyes darkened, trapping her with his gaze. “Me out.”

  “You’ve had a long day.” Having a will of their own, her hands reached up and stroked his chest.

  Brady dropped his gaze from hers and looked down at her hands. Nodding, he sighed. “This is the highlight of my day.”

  They were entering the danger zone. Two innocent kisses—well, one not so innocent, the second one sweet—later and a night of talking over pie, and they were already headed in the wrong direction.

  Or was it? Brady was the type of man who, when he kissed a woman, he wanted something more. Not in a sexual way, although she wouldn’t complain. He was relationship material. She was not.

  Why did he have to say such sweet things to her? Look at her as if she was a kitten and he wanted to pet her all day, and then look at her like a bowl of brownie batter he wanted to lick? It wasn’t fair.

  “How’s your mom?” she asked, knowing it would change the direction of his thoughts. Her tactic worked. Scratching his fingers across his face with a loud sigh, he lowered his head, resting his chin on his chest.

  “She’s mad at me for making her rest. Four times I caught her in the kitchen scrubbing the counter or organizing the fridge. She’s not one to sit idle.”

  “Did the doctor say it’s okay for her to be up and about.”

  “Yeah. If she can handle it.”

  “You don’t think she can?”

  Brady moved in closer, trapping her hands between them, and rested his chin on her head. “If it was anyone else, I’d push them to get up and move around. Not Dorothy Marshall though. She’ll overdo it and relapse. She’s too stubborn to see the danger in over-extending herself.”

  “How long has she been in bed?” Grace rested her head against his shoulder, melting into his embrace.

  “Pretty much since her first chemo. I’ve brought her for short walks outside, but the past few days it hasn’t hit above freezing. I’m not letting her out in the cold.”

  “She must be going stir crazy.”

  “She is. But every time she gets up and moves around, she gets sick.”

  “Is that normal?”

  “Unfortunately. Sleep is the best medicine for her. Well, that and chemo.”

  She didn’t know what else to say. What to do.

  “You need to take care of yourself as well, Brady. It won’t do her any good if you or your brother gets sick.”

  “That’s what I’ve been doing.” He lowered his head and nuzzled her neck with kisses.

  She was a distraction. That, she could handle. As long as he didn’t have any expectations of a future together. Her future plans were to leave this place. Set up shop somewhere more glamorous, where the action was.

  “I could say this is a surprise, but I’d be lying.” At the sound of Carter’s voice, they pulled apart. “You don’t hide your feelings very well, big bro.”

  Humiliated at being busted, Grace hid behind Brady’s body and dumped the pasta in the boiling water and stirred. And stirred. She couldn’t turn around and face Carter.

  “Make yourself useful and set the table,” Brady snapped.

  “What are you going to do while Grace is cooking and I set the table? Continue groping the hel—”

  “Enough.”

  Carter chuckled but dropped the jokes.

  “Sorry about that,” Brady said so only she could hear.

  Grace flashed him a quick smile and returned her focus to the boiling noodles. “Do you have a bowl for the salad? And a strainer? And can you put some dressings on the table?”

  He did as asked, and when the noodles were done she dumped the water into the strainer.

  “Can you get me some butter?”

  Brady complied while Carter opened the bagged salad and dumped it into the bowl. She took the chicken out of the oven and stirred the noodles into the mixture. Once combined, she carried it to the kitchen table.

  “Think Mom will want real food tonight?” Carter asked as he served himself salad.

  “I’ll make her a small plate after dinner. It sounds like she’s finally sleeping.”

  “She was up all day, huh? So I may have it easy if she sleeps all night?”

  “I hope she does.” Brady scooped out a healthy portion and placed it on Grace’s plate before he served himself. “What kind of dressing would you like?” He handed her the ranch, Italian, and balsamic vinaigrette.

  She hadn’t thought Carter rude for serving himself first. Brady, however, was the impeccable gentleman, treating her like a real lady.

  They ate in silence with the occasional, “So good,”
from Carter as he shoveled his food down his throat.

  “You’d think he hasn’t eaten in years.”

  “I’m a growing boy.” Carter patted his flat stomach. “I didn’t have time to stop for lunch today. Thanks again, Grace. This is amazing.”

  Compliments were still relatively new to her. She blushed at the praise and took her last bite. It was good. Hearty and filling. Hopefully, Mrs. Marshall would like it as well.

  Carter got up from the table and rinsed his plate. “I’ll do the dishes later. Just toss them in the sink for now.” He sliced into the brownies and wrapped one in a napkin. “For later. I’m gonna be in the office getting some work done. I’ll keep an ear out for Mom. You two,” he winked, “behave yourselves.”

  When he was gone, Brady turned her chair so she faced him and then spun his body around as well, trapping her legs between his.

  “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you earlier.”

  “You didn’t.” Yeah. Total mortification there.

  “I did.” He rubbed his big, calloused hands on her knees, and his fingers made circles on her thighs. “I like you, Grace Le Blanc.”

  “I like you too.” Too much.

  “I wasn’t expecting anything like this to happen between us.”

  Because her sister had made him believe she was a spoiled, self-centered bitch. She was. Maybe still was in some ways.

  “I know I don’t have a lot to offer, especially now with my time caught up on caring for my mother, but I’d like to...” he ran his tongue across his teeth, clearly uncomfortable with what to say next.

  If he were any other man, he’d say he’d like to have an affair. Keep it on the down low. That had been perfect for her in the past. Not being tied to a man but having a guy around to sleep with was a win-win.

  Relationships weren’t her thing. They didn’t suit her goals in life. Fancy dinners. Expensive gifts or exotic getaways in exchange for no-strings sex suited her just fine.

  Brady couldn’t offer any of those. Not even the no-strings sex. He didn’t have to say it; she knew. She could tell. He was the marrying type.

  Not wanting him to finish his statement with ridiculous words like date, see each other, commitment, or relationship, she continued for him.

  “I’d like to as well.” There. Whatever happened she could blame it on miscommunication.

  That cute, little boy smile like someone offered him a triple scoop ice cream cone lit up his face.

  “You understand I can’t—”

  “Shh.” She placed a finger on his lips. “Your number one priority right now is taking care of your mom. The rest will fall into place.”

  “Grace.” His fingers dug into her thighs, and she found herself being pulled into his body. When her knees hit his chair, he picked up her legs and draped them over his. Those magic fingers of his skirted up her sides and into her hair. “Grace,” he said again, drawing her into his body until they touched torso to torso.

  His lips were heaven on hers. Soft, pillowy clouds of sweetness, Brady kissed her with meaning. With gratitude. With passion. His hands never stopped moving, massaging first her sides, then her back, and up to her shoulders.

  Her mind floated in and out of consciousness as his mouth made love to hers, not leaving one centimeter of her mouth untouched.

  The passion flowed through her body from head to toe. With just a kiss, he managed to make her feel thoroughly loved, as if his lips had kissed every inch of her body. His hands moved to her face, cupping her cheeks in his palms, making her feel small with his powerful touch.

  Not small as in weak. Brady didn’t dominate, he gave. Her nurtured. He made her feel safe.

  Ironically, the only danger that existed was falling for him.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  THE KISS HAD TAKEN things to a new level with Grace. Brady warmed up a bowl of soup for his mother and put the rest of the food away.

  “Your girlfriend gone?” Carter tossed something in the trash and helped himself to another beer.

  “Grace left a few minutes ago,” he said, ignoring the girlfriend comment.

  “Did you try the brownies?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Don’t. They’re crap.”

  “I watched her make them. I’m sure you’re overreacting.” Brady cut off a healthy size chunk and tossed it in his mouth. Coughing—or choking, he wasn’t sure—he banged on his chest and swallowed. Hard.

  “Here. You need this more than me right now.” Carter handed him his beer.

  The cold ale helped wash the bitter, salty mess down his throat. “What was that?”

  “You’re the one who was there when she made them. You tell me.”

  Brady hadn’t focused on the ingredients as much as he had the movement of her hands, noticing her long, feminine fingers. When he wasn’t zeroed in on her hands, he studied her lips. She spoke with them, not only literally, but figuratively as well. When nervous, she worried her bottom lip between her teeth. When flirting, she pursed them. When angry, she tucked them in.

  And when passionate, she opened them to him, letting him explore their softness, their taste. Which unfortunately had been erased by the bitter, salty brownie.

  “She must have replaced the sugar with salt. Or measured wrong. I don’t know.” He eyed the pan. They looked amazing, just like the lasagna had. Deceiving. “I’ll throw them out. Don’t tell her though. It’ll only make her feel bad.”

  “Damn. You’re whipped already.” Carter laughed, taking out another beer from the fridge.

  “It’s called being polite.”

  “Uh huh. That for Mom?” He jerked his head toward the bowl on the counter.

  “Yeah. She had a half piece of toast this afternoon and felt nauseous. Try to get some liquids in her. I’m worried she’s going to be dehydrated.”

  “Why not make her a smoothie or something?”

  “Tried.” Brady set his still full beer bottle on the counter and scrubbed his hands across his face. “Dairy doesn’t agree with her. Found that out the hard way when I made her one for breakfast.”

  “Man.” Carter slouched in a chair. “Think we should bring her back to the doctors?”

  “I called Dr. Moore’s office earlier. Spoke with a nurse. Said if she doesn’t get any fluids in her she’ll need to come in. Have an IV.”

  “Mom’s not gonna want to do that.”

  “I know. And she needs company other than you and me. Someone to lift her spirits. Mrs. Le Blanc is away for another month. Mom doesn’t have many friends.”

  “What about Alexis? She can bring Sophie over. Mom loves little kids.”

  “Now that, my idiot brother, is the best idea you’ve ever had.”

  The next morning Brady managed to help his mother into the shower while keeping her dignity and his sanity. Once she was dressed, he called Alexis, who came over right away, daughter in tow.

  They hung out in the living room while Brady went out to the barn to work on the equipment. Not long before his father died, he’d taught Brady how to inspect the tractors. How to clean out the carburetor, fuel lines, and run multi-point inspections. He was diligent about keeping his equipment running smoothly and spent nearly the entire winter in the barn inspecting every piece.

  Brady followed in his father’s footsteps, only he also made time for his plowing business. Along with the tractors, he also inspected his truck and made sure the hydraulics on the plow were functioning properly.

  Sometime later, his stomach alerted him it was time to eat. And time to check on his mother.

  He found the three of them, Alexis, Sophie, and his mom having a tea party on the floor in the living room. The space wasn’t large. Just enough room for the woodstove, a camelback couch that he and his brother had always hated, and his father’s favorite recliner.

  It had seen better days eighteen years ago and hadn’t fared well since then, yet was still comfortable. His mother had covered it with a quilt his paternal grandmother had made for their weddi
ng, which covered up the worn and frayed green and blue checked print. They would have gotten rid of it years ago if it didn’t hold so many memories.

  The pictures on the wall above the couch hadn’t been updated since Carter’s senior year of high school. Brady’s and Carter’s graduation pictures were the only ones added since their father’s death.

  His parents’ wedding photo, pictures of each of the boys sitting on their dad’s lap on the tractor in the middle of the fields, their mother sitting on a blanket, surrounded by blueberry bushes, and Brady leaning over her shoulder and Carter swaddled in her lap. Memories that made their place a home.

  “Bwady.” Sophie pointed at him and held up a miniature teacup.

  “Hey, Sophie. Are you having a nice tea party?” He was surprised the little girl even knew who he was. They saw each other from time to time, but it was usually in passing.

  Sophie danced around his mom and Alexis and picked up a baby doll, feeding her pretend tea.

  “I’m going to warm up some food. Would you like to stay and have lunch with us, Alexis?”

  “Oh, you don’t need to go to any trouble.” She got to her feet and joined him in the doorway.

  “No trouble at all. We have a ton of leftovers. Your sister’s been keeping us well fed.”

  “My sister?”

  “Yeah. She’s a good cook.” He wouldn’t mention the garlic or brownie mishap.

  “I guess if it’s not too much trouble. Sophie’s incredibly picky so I doubt she’ll eat anything. She can pick off my plate if she’s hungry.”

  “I can make her a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”

  “Nah. I’ll wait until she asks to eat.”

  He watched his mother struggle to get up from the floor, knowing she hated how weak her body had become. She needed food. In one quick stride, he was by her side, lifting her to her feet. “I’m making you a plate as well. Do you want to sit at the table or out here?”

  “I forgot how exhausting a toddler can be.”

  “Oh, Mrs. Marshall. I’m so sorry. I’ll take Sophie home and let you rest.”

  “Don’t you dare. Sophie’s an angel. She’s exhausting me in the most wonderful way. I love listening to her constant chatter and watching her play with her dolls.”