Bride Quartet Collection (62 page)

“Yes, I know.”

He sipped his wine and watched her. “Flowers, huh?”

She shrugged and kept working.

Casually, and in long-standing habit, Del opened a canister for a cookie. “He’s not your type.”

She stopped long enough to arch her eyebrows. “Really? Attractive, considerate men who work in the food industry and love their grandmothers aren’t my type? I’m glad you let me know.”

Del crunched into the cookie. “He plays golf.”

“Good God! That was a lucky escape.”

“Twice a week. Every week.”

“Stop it. You’re scaring me.”

He pointed with the cookie, then took another bite. “And he likes art films.You know, the kind with subtitles and symbolism.”

She paused to take a sip of her wine. “Did you date him? Bad breakup?”

“Funny. I happen to know someone who did.”

“Is there anyone you don’t know?”

“I’m his cousin Theresa’s lawyer—and her husband’s. Anyway, Nick’s more Parker’s type, except his schedule’s nearly as insane as hers and they’d never manage to get together anyway.”

“Parker doesn’t like art films, especially.”

“No, but she gets them.”

“And I don’t because, what, I didn’t go to Yale?”

“No, because they’d annoy you.”

They did annoy her, but still. “There’s more to types than cinema choices and golf. He’s a good dancer,” she shot out, and hated the defensive tone in her voice. “I like to dance.”

“Okay.” He stepped over, put his arms around her.

“Cut it out. I’m not finished with the cake.”

“It looks good.You look better, and smell really good, too.” He sniffed at her neck. “Sugar and vanilla. I didn’t recognize Nick when you were dancing with him.” He turned her smoothly, right, then left. “It was crowded. And I was looking at you. Really, I was just looking at you.”

“That’s pretty good,” she murmured.

“It’s pretty true.” He dipped his head to brush her lips with his. “Hi, Laurel.”

“Hi, Del.”

“If you give Parker those flowers, I’ll buy you some more.”

It was, she thought, the perfect amount of beeswax in the sugar. “Okay”

H
OLIDAYS, THE REAL DEAL WITH NO WORK ON THE SLATE, WERE SO rare Laurel’s internal clock woke her at six sharp. She started to roll out of bed when she remembered she didn’t have to roll out. She snuggled back in with the same sort of giddy wonder she’d felt as a child with an unexpected snow day.

Even as she sighed and closed her eyes again, she thought of Del in another bed, conveniently close by.

She could get up after all, sneak into his room, into his bed. All bets off.

It was Independence Day, after all. Why not be independent? He wasn’t likely to complain or yell for help. She could change into something sexier than her tank and boxers. She had the equipment. The blue teddy would do the job. Or maybe the silk chemise with the pastel flower pattern, or ...

Thinking about it, she fell back to sleep.

Opportunity missed, she thought as she wandered down to the family kitchen nearly three hours later. Probably for the best as the others would surely gloat about her and Del losing the bet. This was the best way, the way to show they both were adults with willpower and sense. Just a couple more weeks, really, so no big deal.

Breakfast scents and voices filled the kitchen. And there he was, looking all gorgeous and relaxed, drinking coffee and flirting with Mrs. G. She could only wish she’d followed through on that early-morning thought.

“And she’s up,” Mac announced. “Just in time. We’re having the ginormous holiday breakfast, which, thanks to Del’s persuasive powers, includes Belgian waffles.”

“Yum.”

“I’ll say. We’re going to do nothing but eat and fat-ass all day, until we go to the park and eat and fat-ass there. Including you.” Mac pointed at Parker.

“Not all fat asses are created equal. I’m going to do a little reorganizing in my office. It relaxes me.”

“Your office is already organized to Obsessiveville,” Emma pointed out.

“It’s where I live, where I make my home.”

“Nag the girl while you finish setting the table,” Mrs. Grady ordered. “I haven’t got all day.”

“We’re eating on the terrace because, holiday.” Mac picked up a stack of plates, shaking her head when Carter started to take them from her. “Uh-uh, cutie. Grab something unbreakable.”

“Good thought.”

“We’re having mimosas, like grown-ups.” Emma handed Carter the bread basket. “What this is, is a prelude for our vacation next month, where every day’s a holiday”

“I’ll tend bar.” Jack hefted the champagne and a pitcher of orange juice.

“Someone should’ve woken me up. I’d have given you a hand with this, Mrs. G.”

“Under control.” Mrs. Grady flicked her spatula. “Get the rest out there.We’ll be ready in two minutes.”

“Nice start to the day.” Laurel glanced at Del as they carried platters outside. “Your idea?”

“Who wants to be inside on a day like this?”

Laurel remembered how often there’d been fun summer meals on the terrace when she’d visited as a child. Flowers, good dishes, and easy company on lovely, lazy mornings.

They’d already put tables together to accommodate the whole group, draped them in pretty cloths, and, yes, there were flowers and good dishes, and the sparkle of crystal in the morning sunlight.

She’d forgotten what it was to indulge like this with nothing more pressing on the day than enjoyment.

She took the glass Jack offered her. “Thanks.”Took a sip. “You could have a career.”

He gave her hair a friendly tug. “A fallback’s always good.”

When Mrs. G came out with the last platter, Del took it from her. “Head of the table for you, Waffle Queen.”

Of course she loved him, Laurel thought, watching as he fussed over Mrs. Grady until she was settled with a mimosa in her hand. How could she help it?

She stepped up, kissed his cheek. “Good job.”

It would be like this from now on, she realized. Oh, not Belgian waffles and mimosas on the terrace. But this group, this family. These voices, these faces, on holidays and impromptu family meals.

Voices crisscrossed the table along with the food. A sliver of waffle for Emma, fruit for Parker while she talked to Carter about a book they’d both read recently. Heaps of whipped cream for Mac, and Del arguing with Jack about a call on a baseball game.

“What’s on your mind, girl?” Mrs. Grady asked her.

“Hardly anything. It’s a nice change.”

Mrs. Grady leaned over, lowered her voice. “Are you going to show them the design you just worked up?”

“Should I?”

“Eat first.”

Mac tapped her spoon on her glass. “I want to announce we’re holding tours after breakfast for the new Carter Maguire Library. Carter and I hauled half a million books up there last night, so we expect lavish praise, with some left over for the architect.” She lifted her glass to Jack.

“It wasn’t more than a quarter million books,” Carter corrected. “But it’s great. Really great, Jack.”

“Nothing I like more than satisfied clients.” He aimed a look at Emma. “Well, almost nothing.”

“And no more hammering, sawing, painting. Not that we’re complaining,” Mac said. “But, oh boy.”

“Hammering and so forth starts next door next week,” Jack warned her.

“Earplugs,” Mac said to Emma. “Highly recommended.”

“I can take it. For a new cooler and work space, I can take it.”

“We’ll be doing some work on your space in tandem, Laurel.”

“She’ll bitch.” Mac waved her fork. “Me? I’m a saint, but she’ll bitch and complain.”

“Probably.” Laurel shrugged and finished her waffle.

“We’ll block off the work area from your kitchen,” Jack told her. “Keep out of your space as much as possible.”

“She’ll still bitch. It’s her nature.”

Laurel gave Mac a cool stare, then rose and walked inside. “What? What? I was kidding. Mostly.”

“She’s not mad. If she was mad she’d have snapped your head off.” Parker glanced toward the house. “She’ll be back.”

“True.You’re not mad, right?” Mac wagged her fork at Del. “If she’s mad you’d be mad on her behalf since you’re hooked up.”

“If that’s a rule, it’s a girl rule.”

“It’s not a girl rule. It’s a couple rule.” Mac looked to Emma for verification.

“Yes, it is. If you know what’s good for you.”

“I’m not mad, so if she’s mad she’s going to have to get over it.”

“You really don’t get how this works,” Mac decided. “Parker, you should write some of this stuff down for him. Rules are the thread that knits the fabric. He’s got holes in his fabric.”

“Are these girl rules, couple rules, or Quartet rules?”

“It’s really all the same,” Parker told him. “I’ll get you a memo.” She glanced over as Laurel came back out with her sketchbook. “But the point’s moot at the moment.”

“What’s the point?” Laurel asked.

“Anger and insult rule.”

“Oh. I’m not angry or insulted, I’m just ignoring her.” She walked around the table to Carter. “This is for you, not for her. Just for you.”

“Okay.” He glanced at Mac. “Is that allowed?”

“Depends.”

“She has nothing to say about it. For you, if you like it. The groom’s cake.” Laurel angled the pad so Mac’s view was blocked, and opened it for Carter.

She watched his face and saw exactly what she’d hoped to see. The quicksilver flash of pure delight. “It’s amazing. It couldn’t be more perfect, and I’d never have thought of it.”

“What is it?”

Even as Mac asked, shifted, Laurel snapped the book shut.

That brought a few hoots of laughter from around the table as Mac cursed. Then she shifted tactics with a sad, pitiful expression.

“Please? Pretty, pretty please?”

Laurel opened the book a fraction. “I’m only showing you for Carter. Not for you.”

“Okay.”

Laurel opened the book, heard Mac’s breath catch before she managed a shaky, “Oh.”

Jack craned his head to get a look. “It’s a book. It’s nice. Fits.” “It’s not just a book. It’s
As You Like It.
It’s kind of our book, isn’t it, Carter?”

“I was teaching it when we started seeing each other. It’s even open to Rosalind’s speech. See down here.” He ran his finger down the open page. “‘No sooner looked but they loved.’”

“Oh, big
awww.”
Emma leaned over for a better look. “I love the bookmark ribbon with their names on it.”

“I think I’m taking Mac’s off. I’ll just have Carter’s.” Laurel considered. “Yeah, just his. Carter Maguire, PhD.”

“You won’t take me off the cake.You love me.”

Laurel made a
pfft
sound.

“You love me,” Mac said again, scooting up. “You designed the perfect cake for my guy. You love me.” She grabbed Laurel in a hug, did a little dance.

“Maybe I love Carter.”

“Of course you do. Who wouldn’t? Thank you, thank you,” she whispered in Laurel’s ear. “It’s the best.”

“You almost deserve it,” she whispered back, then laughed and hugged hard.

“I’ll have a look at that while the lot of you deal with the dishes.” Mrs. Grady curled a finger. “Food’s ready to be packed up for the park when you are. You’ll need to get the hampers out.”

“Packing, family kitchen at three thirty,” Parker announced. “I’ll hand out specific assignments after kitchen duty. Loading up the van at four, which includes food, folding chairs, blankets, any sports equipment, and people. I have your assigned seats for transportation,” she added and only inclined her head at the groans. “It’ll save arguing. I’m driving.” This time she held up a hand.“I alone among us am dateless, and as such am to be pitied, indulged, and obeyed.”

“You could’ve had a date,” Emma objected. “I can get you a date in five seconds.”

“That’s really sweet, but no. Big no.” Parker rose and began to stack dishes. “Let’s get this done because I have some relaxing and satisfying file purging to do.”

“That’s just really sad.”With a shake of her head, Mac grabbed a tray.

“Who could you get in five seconds?” Jack wondered. Emma shot him a laughing look over her shoulder as she carried in dishes.

“I’ll be right in,” Del told Laurel. “I just need to take care of something first.”

“If you’re more than five minutes, I’m sticking you with the pans.

When Del pulled out his phone, Mrs. Grady looked up from Laurel’s sketchbook. “What are you up to?”

“Just looking out for my sister.” He wandered off to make a call.

I
T WASN’T EXACTLY LIKE HERDING CATS, LAUREL SUPPOSED, BUT IT was pretty damn close. Here were people who successfully ran their own businesses, who taught the youth of the country, who represented citizens in the court of law—and none of them could get to one place at one time.

A dozen essential items were remembered at the last minute, then retrieved. Debates broke out on the system of loading the van, then on Parker’s seat assignments.

Laurel dug a soft drink out of one of the coolers and, popping it open, walked over to sit on one of the low garden walls while chaos reigned.

“Why aren’t you over there fixing this?” she asked Parker when her friend sat down beside her.

“They’re having fun.” She held out a hand for the drink. “And I built an extra twenty minutes into the load time.”

“Naturally. Did you really purge files all afternoon?”

“Some people do crossword puzzles.”

“How many calls did you get?”

“Five.”

“Some holiday.”

“It works for me. Things seem to be working for you, too.”

Laurel followed Parker’s gaze and watched Del rearrange the placement of a hamper and a pair of folding chairs. “We haven’t had a fight. It’s kind of nerve-racking.”

“Oh, you’ll get back to that.” Parker patted Laurel’s knee, then rose. “All right, people, this bus is leaving the station. Everyone into their assigned seats.”

Del shut the back door of the van then walked over to take Laurel’s hand. “You get to sit beside me. My sister fixed it.”

“It’s going to be pretty crowded. I might have to sit on your lap.”

He grinned as she climbed in. “We can hope.”

CHAPTER NINE

T
HANKS TO PARKER’S SCHEDULE THEY ARRIVED EARLY ENOUGH TO claim a good location for what Laurel thought of as their camp. Folding chairs were unfolded, blankets spread, hampers and coolers hauled.

Del tossed a ball glove into Laurel’s lap. “Right field.”

“I always get stuck back in right field,” she complained. “I want to play first base.”

Dating status notwithstanding, he looked at her with pity. “Face it, McBane, you field like a girl. Most of the shots are going to stay in the infield, so I need Parker on first.”

“Parker’s a girl.”

“But she doesn’t field like one.Jack’s got Emma and Mac, Carter’s going to ump so nobody gets hurt. Plus he’ll be fair. We’re filling in the rest with pickups, and some are unknown quantities, so until ... And here comes my ringer.”

Laurel looked over. “You drafted Malcolm Kavanaugh?”

The light of competition sparked in Del’s eyes. “He’s got serious skills, plus it evens things out.”

“The lineups?”

“No.You know, with Parker.”

“Parker?” Shock, then amusement, then her own dose of pity ran over her face. “You got Parker a date? Jesus, Del, she’s going to kill you.”

“Why?” Absently, he tossed a ball from hand to glove, hand to glove. “I’m not asking her to marry him. We’re just hanging out.”

“It’s your funeral.”

“Why?” he asked again. “Does she have some sort of problem with ... Hey, Mal.”

“Hey.” He caught the ball Del tossed him, winged it back. “How’s it going?” he said to Laurel.

“We’re going to find out.”

“Ball game, free food.” Mal, in worn jeans, a white tee, and dark sunglasses used the bat he’d brought with him to pop up a fungo. “Good deal. My mother’s hooked up with your Mrs. Grady and some of them.” He laid the bat on his shoulder. “So, what’s the lineup?”

“I’ve got you on third, batting cleanup.”

“That’ll work.”

“Laurel’s in right field, leading off. Her fielding’s crap, but she’s got a good bat.”

“My fielding is not crap.” She hit Del with the glove. “Keep it up and you’re not going to have any problem winning that bet, Brown.”

When she stalked off, Mal took an easy, testing swing. “What bet?”

Laurel strode straight up to Mac. “I want to switch with you. I want to play on Jack’s team.”

“Baseball slut. Okay by me, but you’d better tell Jack.”

She walked over to where Jack sat on the ground writing his lineup. “I switched with Mac. I’m on your team.”

“Trading the redhead for the blonde. Okay, let me figure ... You’re right field, leading off.”

Son of a bitch. Did he and Del have telepathy? Laurel narrowed her eyes. “Why right field?”

He flicked her a glance, and she
saw
him reconsider his response. “You’ve got a strong arm.”

She pointed at him. “Good answer.”

“How come you ... ? Hey. Hey, is that Mal? Del hooked Mal?” Jack bared his teeth. “So that’s the way he wants to play the game.”

“Let’s kick his ass.”

Jack rose to slap palms with Laurel. “I won the flip. We’re home team. Let’s take the field.”

She did just fine at right field. And not just because no one hit a ball in her direction, but because she was
prepared.

Once they’d bagged three outs, she switched her glove for a bat and faced down Del on the mound.

He winked at her. She snarled back. Then swung hard at thin air as she mistimed the ball. He tried to fool her with a pitch that hung low and outside, but she held her ground. She caught the third with enough meat on the bat for a solid base hit. When she held up at first, she tossed her batting helmet aside.

“Del called Mal in to balance things out for you.”

“What?” Beside the bag, Parker straightened out of her waiting crouch. “Are you kidding me? Like some sort of pity date?”

“That, and Mal’s good at the game. I thought you’d want to know”

“Damn right.” Parker sent a scorching look toward the mound as Del wound up for the pitch. “He’s so going to pay.”

By the fourth inning Del had them five to three. He’d been right about Malcolm, Laurel had to admit. Serious skills. He held second now on a strong leadoff double, and the strikeout behind him brought Del to the plate. Cheers and calls went up from team-mates and the audience that had gathered. Laurel watched Del set, and Jack shake off the first suggestion from the twelve-year-old catcher.

He went with a fastball. Or she thought it was, as it looked fast to her. It looked even faster when Del’s bat smacked it and the ball winged into the air. In her direction.

“Shit. Oh, shit.”

She heard someone yelling—maybe it was her—as she raced back to meet the path of the ball, but her heart pounded so hard in her ears she couldn’t tell.

She lifted her glove and prayed.

When the ball slapped into it, no one was more surprised than she was. She shot up ball and glove to acknowledge the cheers from the crowd. And saw Mal had already tagged up and was charging third. She threw the ball to Emma’s waving hands. Her throw, while hard and fairly true, hit Emma’s glove one wild slide too late.

Jubilation to disgust, she thought, in less than five seconds.

Baseball sucked.

“Good catch, Laurel.”

“Don’t patronize me, Jack,” she muttered when they got out of the inning with Mal stranded on third.

“Who’s patronizing? Del creamed that ball. If you hadn’t caught it, we’d be behind a couple more runs. We held them off.” He gave her a brotherly punch on the shoulder.

“It was a good catch.” She nodded in satisfaction. Maybe baseball didn’t suck after all.

It sucked again when they lost seven to four, but she had the satisfaction of knowing her fielding hadn’t been crap.

“You did good out there.” Del tossed her a canned soft drink. “Two singles and an RBI. Plus you robbed me of a potential two-run homer.”

“You shouldn’t have said my fielding was crap.”

“It usually is.” He flicked the bill of her cap, in the same sort of brotherly gesture as Jack’s arm punch. Laurel tossed the cap aside, grabbed a handful of Del’s shirt.

“I think you’re forgetting something.”

She yanked him down for a good strong kiss, amused when the gesture brought on a smattering of applause by those who’d dropped down on the blanket or chairs.

“No, I remembered that.” Del linked his arms casually around her waist. “But thanks for the heads-up.”

“Well, well, isn’t
this
a surprise.” Hillary Babcock, one of Mrs. Grady’s friends, beamed at Del and Laurel. “I had no idea this was going on! Maureen, you don’t tell me anything!”

“What I don’t tell you, you find out.”

“But this is
big.
I’ve always thought of the two of you as the next thing to brother and sister, and here you are, getting all romantic.”

“Laurel fielded a long fly.” Del shifted to drape his arm around Laurel’s shoulders. His hand rubbed lightly at her biceps as if to soothe away a mild irritation. “She gets a reward.”

Hillary laughed. “Next time, sign me up! But really, how long has this been going on? Look at all of you.” She beamed the smile again, and her eyes got a little teary. “It seems like five minutes ago you four girls and Del were all running around this park with the rest of the kids, now you’re all grown-up. All paired up, too! Oh, Maureen, you should talk these girls into a triple wedding.Wouldn’t that be something special?”

“Hilly, the boy just kissed the girl. That doesn’t mean they’re picking out the china pattern. Why don’t you get the potato salad out of the cooler over there.”

“Why, sure. Kay, this must be your boy Malcolm. All grown-up, too! And you’re with Parker. Isn’t that nice?”

Mal watched Parker’s face as he answered. “She pulled her weight on line drives and pop flies, but I haven’t even kissed the girl. Yet.”

“Mal’s not actually with—”

One searing stare from his sister in Del’s direction stopped his explanation. Deliberately, Parker stepped forward.Aware they were directly in Del’s eyeline, she pressed her body to Mal’s, linked her arms behind his neck, and fixed her mouth to his in a long, slow, sumptuous kiss.

She pulled back, rubbed her lips together. “That ought to do it.” Mal caged her hips in his hands. “I think we should play a doubleheader.”

She spared Mal the slightest smile, flicked a cool glance at Del, then stepped over to help unpack a hamper.

“What was that?” Del demanded as he crouched down beside her. “What the hell was that?”

“What? Oh, that? Just trying to keep things nice and
balanced.
Wasn’t that the idea, big brother?”

“For God’s sake, Parker, I just ... He’s a friend of mine, so why not ask him along? Plus you said how you were the only one without a date.”

“And it was so nice of you to arrange one for me, without even asking if I’d like you to.” She jabbed him with her finger as he started to speak. “You’d better back out of my personal business, or I’ll sleep with him just to make your life hell.”

He paled, visibly. “You would not.”

“Don’t test me, Delaney.” She jabbed him again. “Don’t test me.”

“Time for a walk.” Laurel reached down to tug on Del’s arm. “No. Really time for a walk. Some things even you can’t talk your way out of,” she muttered to him as she dragged him away.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“She’s pissed at you, of course. I told you she would be.”

He skirted the path of a flying Frisbee, then stopped. “She wouldn’t be if you hadn’t told her. Why did you do that?”

“Because she’s my friend, and I was pissed at you before she was. I’d have told her even if I hadn’t been pissed at you, but that was a secondary factor. You can’t pull a date for her out of your hat without telling her, Del, or I have to.”

“Another rule. Maybe she should send me a damn memo.” She gave the hand she held an impatient shake. “You should know better.”

“I should know better? She’s the one who grabbed him and kissed him like that, in front of everybody.”

“Yes, she should’ve dragged him off to the bushes and done it in private, but you know Parker. She’s brazen.”

“You think it’s funny?” He stopped, stared her down. “She made a move on him in public, she’s really steamed at me, plus now I have to talk to Mal. It’s not funny.”

“No. No, you don’t have to talk to Mal. Leave it alone, Mr. Fix-It.They’re grown-ups.”

“You have your rules, I have mine.”

“Sometimes I could just ...” She turned away, turned back. “How many guys did you ‘talk to’ and/or warn off when it was me?”

He slid his hands into his pockets. “The past is the past.”

“You should probably have a talk with yourself.”

“Believe me, I have been. It doesn’t seem to do any good. I’ve got a taste for you now.”

“A taste for me?”

“Yeah. You know about tastes, and how some of them are just irresistible. That’s you.”

She let out a half sigh, then framed his face with her hands. “Semi-redeemed. Let’s walk the long way around. We’ll work up an appetite.”

WITHIN FIFTEEN MINUTES, LAUREL DECIDED THAT BETWEEN THE two of them they knew too many people.A simple walk around the park became a meet-and-greet, with the added slightly sticky layer of curiosity from those seeing them as a couple for the first time. She felt the speculation buzzing around her ears like mosquitoes.

“At least Mrs. Babcock came right out and asked.”

Del glanced over as they wound their way back. “Asked what?”

“‘What’s going on with them? Are they dating? Are they sleeping together? What’s Delaney Brown doing with Laurel McBane? When did that happen? What’s going on with them?’ I feel like I should’ve written up a mission statement.”

“People like to know what’s going on with other people, especially if there’s any hint or possibility of sex or scandal.”

“I can feel the eyebrows wiggling behind my back.” As if to dislodge them, she rolled her shoulders. “That doesn’t bother you at all?”

“Why would it? In fact, let’s give them something to wiggle about.”

He spun her around, locked her into a just-short-of-steamy kiss. “There. Questions answered. Let’s get some of that potato salad.”