with them.”
“Paid help,” he admitted. “But for some reason nannies have never seemed to last too long…”
“What about your folks?”
“They’re not like yours,” he said with an appreciative smile for her parents. “For one thing, they still live in Detroit, where Dad’s an automotive engineer. He’s always busy with work. And Mom has a heart condition. Weak valves. She doesn’t have enough energy to deal with Buzz and TJ.”
“I’m sorry about that,” Brenna said.
“You’re lucky,” he said, “that your parents are so…”
“Overwhelming?”
“I was going to say energetic.”
She smiled. “They’re certainly healthy, so I am lucky. I remember what Molly went through when Mr. McClintock got sick.”
“She and I have talked about that.”
“She told you?” Despite all their years of friendship, Molly had never talked much with Brenna about losing her father.
“Yeah, it sounds like it was tough on all of them.”
“It was toughest on Mrs. McClintock.” Brenna sighed. “She lost the love of her life.” Was Josh the love of Molly’s life? Brenna had always thought that Eric was. But maybe that was just wishful thinking now.
“Molly told me how close her parents were, and how devastated her mother was when her dad died,” he said. “My parents have that kind of relationship, too. That strong bond, that love and commitment that carries them through sickness and health.”
Brenna was moved by the longing in his voice. “You want that, too?”
His gaze met hers and held. “Doesn’t everyone?”
She nodded, then cleared her throat and asked, “Have you heard from Molly?”
“She left me a voice mail.” He lifted the glass to his lips, swallowed a mouthful, and then coughed and sputtered. “What’s in this?”
“Spikes. Or nails.”
“What?”
“That was Buzz and TJ’s interpretation of Nick telling them the punch bowl had been spiked.”
His eyes rounded. “They didn’t have…”
She shook her head. “No. So can you tell me what she said? Or is it too personal? I don’t want to pry, but…” She damn well wanted to know what explanation her friend had given for backing out.
He lifted his shoulders in a slight shrug. “She didn’t say much. She’s sorry. She hopes I understand.”
“Do you?”
He rose from his chair and walked toward the railing to stare across the moonlit garden. “She came to see me last night and admitted she was having doubts.”
From his tone, Brenna suspected Molly wasn’t the only one who’d been having doubts. Or was that more wishful thinking on her part? “If she was having doubts, then she did the right thing by not marrying you. Granted, she could have handled things better, so that you weren’t…”
“Humiliated?” Josh asked when her voice trailed off into the darkness. “I wasn’t, really. Hell, I should be used to women running out on me.” He pushed a hand through his hair, then laughed at himself. “Damn, don’t I sound full of self-pity?”
“You’re entitled,” Brenna said as she stood and joined him at the rail. Stepping close to him, she patted his arm as her dad would have done.
But she didn’t have Pop’s massive hands or his strength. Her pat was gentle, her touch lingering as the heat of her palm penetrated the thin material of his shirt. His skin tingled, and his body tensed.
“You’ve had a bad day,” she said, almost as if he was one of the twins and she was excusing a temper tantrum.
“No, I think Nick’s right,” he admitted. “Although I’ll deny it if you tell him that.”
She laughed. “Okay, your secret’s safe with me.”
He wondered. Would she keep his real secret—that he was more attracted to her than he’d ever been to the woman he was supposed to have married that day?
“I have bad judgment,” he shared. And the fear that he was about to indulge in it again quickened his pulse.
She withdrew her hand from his arm. “Well, I have to argue with you
“Paid help,” he admitted. “But for some reason nannies have never seemed to last too long…”
“What about your folks?”
“They’re not like yours,” he said with an appreciative smile for her parents. “For one thing, they still live in Detroit, where Dad’s an automotive engineer. He’s always busy with work. And Mom has a heart condition. Weak valves. She doesn’t have enough energy to deal with Buzz and TJ.”
“I’m sorry about that,” Brenna said.
“You’re lucky,” he said, “that your parents are so…”
“Overwhelming?”
“I was going to say energetic.”
She smiled. “They’re certainly healthy, so I am lucky. I remember what Molly went through when Mr. McClintock got sick.”
“She and I have talked about that.”
“She told you?” Despite all their years of friendship, Molly had never talked much with Brenna about losing her father.
“Yeah, it sounds like it was tough on all of them.”
“It was toughest on Mrs. McClintock.” Brenna sighed. “She lost the love of her life.” Was Josh the love of Molly’s life? Brenna had always thought that Eric was. But maybe that was just wishful thinking now.
“Molly told me how close her parents were, and how devastated her mother was when her dad died,” he said. “My parents have that kind of relationship, too. That strong bond, that love and commitment that carries them through sickness and health.”
Brenna was moved by the longing in his voice. “You want that, too?”
His gaze met hers and held. “Doesn’t everyone?”
She nodded, then cleared her throat and asked, “Have you heard from Molly?”
“She left me a voice mail.” He lifted the glass to his lips, swallowed a mouthful, and then coughed and sputtered. “What’s in this?”
“Spikes. Or nails.”
“What?”
“That was Buzz and TJ’s interpretation of Nick telling them the punch bowl had been spiked.”
His eyes rounded. “They didn’t have…”
She shook her head. “No. So can you tell me what she said? Or is it too personal? I don’t want to pry, but…” She damn well wanted to know what explanation her friend had given for backing out.
He lifted his shoulders in a slight shrug. “She didn’t say much. She’s sorry. She hopes I understand.”
“Do you?”
He rose from his chair and walked toward the railing to stare across the moonlit garden. “She came to see me last night and admitted she was having doubts.”
From his tone, Brenna suspected Molly wasn’t the only one who’d been having doubts. Or was that more wishful thinking on her part? “If she was having doubts, then she did the right thing by not marrying you. Granted, she could have handled things better, so that you weren’t…”
“Humiliated?” Josh asked when her voice trailed off into the darkness. “I wasn’t, really. Hell, I should be used to women running out on me.” He pushed a hand through his hair, then laughed at himself. “Damn, don’t I sound full of self-pity?”
“You’re entitled,” Brenna said as she stood and joined him at the rail. Stepping close to him, she patted his arm as her dad would have done.
But she didn’t have Pop’s massive hands or his strength. Her pat was gentle, her touch lingering as the heat of her palm penetrated the thin material of his shirt. His skin tingled, and his body tensed.
“You’ve had a bad day,” she said, almost as if he was one of the twins and she was excusing a temper tantrum.
“No, I think Nick’s right,” he admitted. “Although I’ll deny it if you tell him that.”
She laughed. “Okay, your secret’s safe with me.”
He wondered. Would she keep his real secret—that he was more attracted to her than he’d ever been to the woman he was supposed to have married that day?
“I have bad judgment,” he shared. And the fear that he was about to indulge in it again quickened his pulse.
She withdrew her hand from his arm. “Well, I have to argue with you
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