Return of the Last McKenna (Harlequin Romance) (11 page)

A hundred other words came to mind when she looked at Brody
McKenna.

“Hey, don’t underestimate me. I read medical journals in my
spare time. And watch operation shows on TV. I’ve never been in the cool kids
clique.” He grinned.

She waved that off. “That’s overrated if you ask me.”

He grinned. “Oh, were you in the cool kids group?”

“I was a cheerleader.” She shrugged. “Membership came with the
pom-poms.”

“You were a cheerleader?” A grin quirked up on one side of his
face. “You do know that when you tell a man that, it gives him ideas?”

“Does it help to know I was terrible at it?”

He thought a second. “Ummm…nope.”

“Well, just don’t ask me to rah-rah and we’ll get along just
fine.”

“Even if I say please?”

“Even if you say please.” She laughed, but still a simmering
sexual tension filled the car, rife with the innuendos and unspoken desires
hanging between them. Maybe later, she’d explore a little of that with Brody
McKenna. Take a chance for once, and let the man not just into her house, but
into her heart.

They neared her exit, and she gave Brody directions. In a few
minutes, he had reached the driveway of her townhome. “Home sweet home,” he
said, and shut off the engine. The Jeep clicked a few times, then fell
silent.

Nerves bubbled inside her. She’d invited men into her home
before, but this time seemed different. Because she’d started to like Brody—a
lot? Because being around an enticing man like Brody embodied taking a risk?

Either way, the few steps it took to get from the driveway to
the front door seemed to last forever. She unlocked the door, then flicked on
the hall light and stepped inside, with Brody following. “Can I get you
something to drink?”

“Sure.”

“Um, beer, water, soda?”

He opted for water. She filled two glasses, then led him to the
small sunroom at the back of her townhouse. Screened in the summer, shuttered in
the winter, the room offered large windows and a fabulous peek of the outdoors.
“This is my favorite room. It’s not very big, but it has a fabulous view.” She
waved toward the picture windows, and the thick copse of woods that ran along
the back of the property. She’d hung birdfeeders on several of the trees when
she first moved in, which provided a constant flurry of winged activity.

Brody sat on an overstuffed floral patterned loveseat, a tall
man on a feminine couch. Somehow, Brody made it work. “I can see why you love
it,” he said. “It’s hard to get something like this so close to the city, with
woods and everything. Sitting here must be a nice way for you to unwind.”

“It is. I’ve spent many an afternoon or evening out here,
reading a book or just listening to music and watching the birds. It’s…”

“Calming,” Brody said.

“Yes. Very.” Except with Brody in the room, calm didn’t
describe the riot of awareness rocketing through her. Her mind went back to that
almost kiss the other day. For the hundredth time, she wished they’d finished
what they’d started.

Who was Brody McKenna? Between the flirting and the compliments
and the help in the bakery, he seemed interested in her, but when it came to
moving things to the next level, he backed away instead. Was she misreading
him?

“When I was in…” he stopped, started again, “overseas, we
stopped in this tiny village for several days. It sat in this little oasis, a
valley of sorts, nestled between several mountain ranges.” As he spoke, she had
the feeling in his mind, he’d gone to that destination, and his voice softened
with the memory. “Not many places over there had trees, but this one did. The
room where I stayed looked out over a stone wall and a field, all shadowed by
the majesty of the mountains. When the sun rose, it painted an exquisite
picture. Gold washing over purple, then over green, like unrolling a blanket of
yellow. It was simple and beautiful.”

“It sounds it.”

“The days there were long, and tough.” He ran a hand through
his hair and sighed. “Some days, that mountain range restored my sanity, brought
me back to reality. To what mattered.”

“My brother talked about something similar. He said that every
day he spent in Afghanistan, he made it a point to find something beautiful
wherever he went. And when things got tough, he’d just focus on that one
beautiful thing, and it would remind him of home and why he was there.”

“Those moments brought him peace?”

“I think they did.” She looked at Brody McKenna and saw a man
who needed that same kind of peace. He carried a load of troubles on his
shoulders. What troubles, she wasn’t sure, but she suspected it stemmed from a
recent tragic event. Maybe she could help him find a little solace, or if
nothing else, show him she understood. He was trying to do that for her, and the
least she could do was the same.

Kate got to her feet, and crossed to a cedar box that sat on
the shelf. All this time, the box had sat, closed, waiting for her to be ready.
To open it, to share the contents, to tell the story. She realized as she
carried the small wooden container back to the loveseat, that for a month, she’d
put her emotions on a back burner. She’d done that long enough.

“I want to show you something.” Kate settled herself beside
Brody, and opened the lid. “I haven’t shown this to anyone, except my
grandmother.” She pulled out a trio of velvet boxes, and laid them on the coffee
table. “Andrew’s medals, given posthumously. Odd word, isn’t that? Posthumously.
Like it was funny afterwards or something.” She shook her head, then reached
into the box, and withdrew another item. “The flag from his funeral.” She placed
the triangular folded item on the table, giving it one lingering touch then
reached inside one more time. “And the four leaf clover necklace he wore. He
called it his good luck charm.”

Brody remembered.

In that moment, he was back in the first village they’d stayed
in, sitting outside, watching the sun go down behind the mountains. Andrew sat
beside him, fingering the necklace. The clover had caught the last of the sun’s
rays, bouncing them off like an aura. Brody had asked Andrew about the emblem,
and that conversation had built the beginnings of a friendship between the two
men.

The memory sent a rush of emotion through Brody. He glanced at
the necklace in Kate’s hand. The explosion had chipped off one corner, twisted
another, doing the same damage to the jewelry as it had done inside Andrew’s
body. He could see Andrew all over again, lying on the ground, torn apart by the
blast, while his friends lay nearby. Blood mingled with fear, and Brody and the
other doctor with him rushing to try and save them all. Knowing at least one
would die before the day ended.

Brody’s throat grew thick, his eyes burned. “You okay?” Kate
asked, placing a hand on his arm. Her comforting him, when he should be the one
comforting her.

“Yeah.” A lie. He hadn’t been okay in a long time, and the
necklace brought back all the reasons why. “My father used to have a four leaf
clover necktie. He wore it whenever he called on a new client.” Brody had shared
the same story with Andrew, all those weeks ago and sharing it now with Kate was
like being back there on that porch while the sun sent the world a goodnight
kiss. “One of us inherited the tie when my father died. Finn, I think. We’re
Irish, so you know the four-leaf clover superstition is alive and well.”

“Andrew just liked them. When we were kids, we spent an entire
afternoon, combing the yard, looking for one.” She ran her thumb over the four
heart shapes that converged to form the trademark leaves. “We never found one,
but we tried our best.”

“Maybe that’s because luck isn’t something you find. It’s
something you…create.”

“True.” She gave the necklace one last touch then lowered it to
the table, one link at a time. “That’s why I don’t want to open another
location. Because I’m afraid that…”

When she didn’t go on, he turned to her, took one of her hands
in his and waited until her gaze met his. “Afraid of what?”

“Afraid that I’ll be as unlucky as Andrew.” The truth sat
there, cold, stark. “That I’ll take a risk and I’ll fail, and I’ll…” Her hand
ran over the folded surface of the flag, “Let him down. Let myself down.”

“You’re smart, Kate. Talented as hell. And you have something
that people love and enjoy. That’s a recipe for success.” He closed her palm
over the charm. “With or without a good luck charm, you’re going to do just
fine.”

“I hope you’re right.” She gave him a watery smile. “There are
days when it’s hard to find that view, and focus on the good.”

“I know what you mean. I don’t think I’ve seen that view in a
long, long time.”

She gave the box a loving touch then raised her gaze to
Brody’s. “I shared all this with you because I wanted you to know that I
understand what it’s like to need that one little thing that restores your
sanity, gets you back on track. I don’t know what’s bothering you, but it’s
clear something is weighing heavy on your shoulders.” She picked up the necklace
and dropped it into Brody’s palm. “I want you to have this. Let it be your view,
Brody. It worked for Andrew, and I’m sure it’ll work for you.”

The gold weighed heavy in his palm. “I…I can’t take this,
Kate.”

“But—”

Brody glanced at the medals, the flag, lying on the table, and
knew he could delay this no longer. Kate deserved to know the truth, even if it
hurt. Even if it went against her brother’s wishes. Maybe Andrew was wrong.
Maybe his sister could handle more than he’d thought.

“Kate, there’s something I want to tell you.” Against Brody’s
hip, his cell phone began to ring, the distinctive trilling tone that meant his
service was trying to reach him. Routine calls, like appointment changes, were
routed to voicemail, but emergencies went straight to Brody’s cell. He cursed
under his breath. “I have to get this.”

He flipped out the phone, and answered it. In seconds, the
operator relayed the information—one of his patients had landed in the hospital
a few minutes ago with heart attack symptoms. The cardiac team wanted the
primary care physician’s input before proceeding. “I’ll be right there.” He
closed the phone and put it back in the holster. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

“Duty calls?”

He nodded. “It’s an emergency. Listen, I’ll catch up with you
tomorrow, okay?”

“I can’t. My grandparents and I are going up to Maine for the
day to visit my mom. How about Monday?”

“I’ll be there.” Even though he dreaded the conversation he
needed to have with her, a part of him couldn’t wait to see her again. Today had
been fun, and brought an unexpected lightness to his heart. He craved more of
that.

Craved more of Kate.

“You’ll be there on Monday, with your apron on?” She gave him a
teasing wink.

He chuckled. “Of course. I’m starting to see it as the next
best fashion accessory. What all the cool docs will be wearing this winter.”

She led him to the door, then paused and put a hand on his arm.
Her gentle touch warmed his skin. “Brody?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for today. You made me laugh, and you made me
forget, and it was…wonderful.” A smile curved across her face, this one a sweet,
easy smile. “I needed that. A lot.”

All Andrew Spencer had wanted was his older sister’s happiness.
Brody had done his best to ensure that, and to ensure she followed the path
she’d been on before she lost her brother. A win in that column, but a loss in
the other, where the truth lay. And complicating the equation—

Brody liked Kate Spencer. A lot. He wanted more, wanted to make
her his. Wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her until neither of them could
see straight. To do that, he had to start them off on the right foot—

And tell her why he had walked into her shop that first day.
Was she ready to hear the truth? Or would it set her back even more?

His phone buzzed a second time, reminding him the patient came
first. Before what Brody wanted, before what Brody craved. And that meant any
relationship with Kate Spencer fell far down the line from the promise Brody had
made in that dusty hut.

CHAPTER EIGHT

T
HE
Morning Glory
Diner promised
good home cooked meals according to the sign in the window and the delicious
scents emanating every time someone opened the door. Kate stepped inside, and
opted for a table by the window. The flowers of the namesake ringed the bright
diner’s walls and decorated everything from the menus to the napkin holders. The
counters were a soft pale yellow, the seats a deep navy blue, which offset the
border of violet morning glories well.

A smiling blonde came over and greeted Kate. Her nametag read
Stace, but somehow Kate would have pegged her for a McKenna fiancé without it.
She had the kind of bright, happy personality that seemed to fit with what Kate
knew of the McKenna men so far. “Welcome to the Morning Glory,” Stace said. “Can
I get you some coffee?”

“Sure.” Kate put out her hand. “And if you have a sec, I’d love
to chat with you. I’m Kate and I’m making your wedding cupcakes this week.”

“Kate, how nice to finally meet you in person.” The other woman
smiled. “Brody told us about you. And so did Riley’s grandmother. She said you
made amazing chocolates.”

“Thank you.” Brody had been talking about her. At first, it
flattered her, then she realized it made sense. He’d hired her to make Stace’s
wedding cake, after all, and giving her business a plug would be part of that.
Kate had been puzzling over Brody’s words from Saturday all weekend. Something
troubled him, but what it was, she didn’t know. He’d left the necklace behind,
right next to a whole lot of unanswered questions.

“Listen, I need to get a couple orders on the tables, but then
I should have a few minutes to sit and chat. I’ll bring us coffee.” Stace cast a
glance toward the clock on the wall. “And knowing my husband-to-be, he’ll be
walking in those doors in about thirty seconds for his omelet fix, so you can
meet Riley, too.”

“Sounds great.” Kate gave Stace a smile.

A few seconds later, the door opened and a man who looked like
a younger version of Brody strode inside, straight to Stace. He took her in his
arms, gave her a quick dip that had her laughing, then a longer kiss that had
her blushing. She gave him a gentle swat, then gestured in Kate’s direction.

Riley crossed the room, a wide smile on his face. He slid into
the opposite seat and put out a hand. “Riley McKenna. The youngest and cutest
McKenna brother—and you can tell Brody I said so.”

Kate laughed and shook hands with Riley. She liked him from the
start. “Nice to meet you. Kate Spencer, owner of Nora’s Sweet Shop.”

“So you’re the one that has my brother all distracted. The man
doesn’t know if he’s coming or going lately.”

Had he said that? Been talking about her? “Brody and I are just
working together. He’s helping me out while my assistant is out of town.”

“Well, for Brody it’s more than some baking and measuring. The
man can’t stop talking about you.” Riley leaned across the table. “He’s smitten,
I’d say. Though if you tell him I said that, I’ll deny it.”

Kate put up her hands. “Brody and I are not dating—” well,
Saturday had been kind of a date, and the tension between them spoke of
something more than friendship “—I’m not sure he’s interested in me that way.”
Because despite the day they’d spent together, the flirting and the jokes, he
kept taking two steps forward, one step back. The mixed signals confused her,
and as much as she’d told Riley and Stace she’d come here to get more details
for their wedding cake, she knew the truth. She’d stopped in to pump those who
knew Brody best for more information. Something to help her solve the puzzle of
the enigmatic Brody McKenna.

“Tell me,” Riley said, “is Brody there pretty much every
day?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“Is he doing nice things like opening the door for you?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“And is he finding excuses to run into you when he doesn’t have
to be there?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“Then he’s interested. Trust me, Brody doesn’t waste his time
on things that don’t matter to him. If he’s around you all the time, he’s
interested. Not to mention, he manages to bring up your name about…oh, a hundred
times in conversation.”

Stace slid into the booth beside Riley and handed Kate a cup of
coffee. “You talking about Brody?”

“Yup. And how the middle brother is the last to learn that a
good woman is the secret to happiness.” Riley pressed a kiss to Stace’s cheek.
“It’s always the smart ones that are the dumbest.”

“I agree with that.” Stace gave him a gentle nudge, then turned
to Kate. “Riley was just as bad as Brody. Kept on pretending he didn’t have any
interest in me. And meanwhile, he was drooling behind my back.”

Riley feigned horror. “I was not. That was Finn with
Ellie.”

Kate laughed. “Brody mentioned him a few times.”

“The first to fall and get married, and he surprised the hell
out of all of us by eloping. He’s got one kid already, another on the way. By
taking the plunge, he blazed the trail for the rest of us.” Riley chuckled. “And
this weekend, it’ll be my turn. I can’t wait.”

Stace beamed at him. “Neither can I.” Riley slipped his arm
behind Stace and drew her a little closer, a little tighter.

Kate dug a notepad out of her purse. “While I have you two
here, I wanted to ask you some questions about the cupcakes. Brody gave me
information, but—”

“He’s a guy and they aren’t big on details, right?” Stace said.
“Whatever Brody told you, though, is probably just fine. I’m the least fussy
person you’ll ever meet. Just make them edible and pretty and I’ll be
happy.”

“Because all you want to do is marry me, right?” Riley
said.

“No. All I want to do is gorge on cupcakes.” She laughed.
“Okay, and marry you.”

Riley swiped a hand across his forehead. “Phew. You had me
worried there for a minute. I thought the wedding was all an elaborate plot for
dessert.”

“Oh, it is,” Stace said with a grin. “And you’re the dessert
I’m getting.”

The two of them embodied happiness. Kate envied them a bit. No,
a lot. Would she ever meet a man who would love her that much? “I’m not sure my
cupcakes can live up to that,” she said with a smile.

“I’m sure they’ll be all that and more. I heard all about your
chocolates from Mary at dinner last week.”

“A family dinner that Brody skipped,” Riley said. “I heard it
was because he was working with you.”

“I’m sorry, if I had known he should have been at a family
dinner—”

Riley put up a hand to stop her. “It was no big deal, really.
Honestly, we’re all glad Brody started working with you. It’s been good for
him.”

Stace nodded. Concern filled both their faces. “Be patient with
Brody. He’s been through a lot.”

Did that explain the distance he maintained? The way he pulled
back every time they got close? What could possibly be that bad that he felt he
couldn’t tell her?

“He told me his parents died.” Kate shook her head. “I meant
yours, Riley. I’m sorry about that.”

“Thanks, but that isn’t what troubles Brody these days. He’s
been through something…traumatic. In the recent past.” Riley exchanged a glance
with Stace.

Something Brody hadn’t shared. The big thing he kept dancing
around, then dropping? Hurt roared inside Kate. She had sat there with him and
poured her heart out, sharing her deepest fears, and he had yet to do the same.
Why?

“He said he’s working with me because it helps him get his mind
off things,” Kate said. “I’m glad that baking can do that for him.”

And that he can avoid the hard topics yet
coax them out of me.

“Brody hates to cook,” Riley said with a laugh. “Like seriously
runs the other way if someone turns on the oven. He’s a takeout only man.”

“Then why would he offer to help me?”

Again, Riley and Stace exchanged a glance and again, Kate got
the feeling there was something—something big—they weren’t telling her. “You
need to ask him about that,” Riley said. “Just know that if Brody is there doing
the thing he hates the most in the world, there is a really, really big reason
for him doing so.”

“Bigger than your wedding?” Kate asked.

Riley thought a second. “Brody’s not there for our wedding.
He’s there because—” Stace laid a hand on Riley’s arm and he cut off the
sentence. “Brody’s a good man,” Riley said instead. “And he’s trying his
damnedest to do the right thing. So before you judge him, think about that. And
give him the benefit of the doubt.”

* * *

Thursday afternoon, Brody sat in his office, surrounded
by charts he needed to finish up and notes he should be reviewing, and ignored
it all. He’d come so close to telling Kate the truth on Saturday, but at the
last minute, chickened out, using the emergency as an excuse to get out of
there. And in the days since, he’d found one excuse after another to avoid the
bakery. Instead, he’d gone for long, hard, punishing runs that hadn’t solved a
damned thing.

The problem? He liked Kate. Liked her a lot. And he knew if he
wanted a future with her, then he had to start being honest. Trust that she
could handle the information, and not be worse for knowing it.

Andrew’s concerns continued to nag in the back of Brody’s head,
though. Who would know her better than her brother? Maybe Andrew was right to
protect her, or maybe he didn’t realize his sister’s strength.

How well did Brody know her, though, after only a couple weeks?
Better than her own flesh and blood?

Mrs. Maguire gave his door a soft knock, and came inside. “Do
you need anything else before I leave, Doctor?”

“No, thanks, Mrs. Maguire.” His head nurse had been a model of
efficiency this week, and kept him on track despite his uncharacteristic lack of
attention to his practice. She’d noticed, and mentioned it a few times. He’d
attributed his inattentiveness to exhaustion, an excuse that didn’t work, given
he’d worked half days all week.

She lingered in the doorway, then came inside and put a hand on
the back of his visitor’s chair but didn’t sit. “I’ve noticed you’ve been
troubled lately, Doc.” He put up a hand to argue, but she cut him off. “Can I
give you some advice? The same advice Doc Watkins gave me one day?”

Concern etched her features. Working side by side with him for
years had given Mrs. Maguire an insight into what made Brody tick. Maybe she’d
share something that could take the edge off his emotions, give him a way to
find his direction again. “Sure.”

She swung around to the front of the chair and eased into it.
“Did I ever tell you about my daughter, Sharon?”

“Just that she’s married and given you two, no, three
grandchildren to spoil.” Every day it seemed Mrs. Maguire put out a new picture
of one of the three kids on her desk. Or a new drawing colored with thick
crayons, and marked with love for Grandma. The kids lived a couple towns over,
and Brody knew Mrs. Maguire devoted every spare minute to seeing them.

A smile curved across Mrs. Maguire’s face. “She has indeed. But
for a time there, I didn’t think she was going to do anything with her life,
anything except die.”

As far as he could remember, Mrs. Maguire had only shared the
good news about her family, never any kind of troubles beyond the typical colds
or restaurant meltdowns. “I didn’t know that. What happened?”

“This was before your time, and back when it was just me and
Doc Watkins. As a single mom, I juggled everything—work, school, soccer matches.
Sharon felt neglected, I think. When she got to high school, she made a lot of
bad choices. Fell in with the wrong crowd. Pot led to coke, led to crack. In
those days, crack ran rampant.” She shook her head. “I thought I was going to
lose her. I did everything I could to try to keep her safe. Console her, stay
home with her, whatever it took to keep her on track. But nothing worked. One
day at a time, I watched my baby die.”

“Oh, Mrs. Maguire, I’m so sorry.” He couldn’t imagine the
stress on her shoulders during those days, coupled with working full-time and
paying the bills.

“And here I was, a nurse. The kind of person who should know
better, you know? I kept trying to fix it, like putting a band-aid on a cut, but
it wasn’t a cut, it was a hemorrhage, and she didn’t want the help.”

“What did you do?”

“I came in here one day and I cried to Doc Watkins. Told him I
had to quit so I could take care of my baby. I was going to devote myself full
time to trying to fix Sharon. And you know what he told me?”

Brody shook his head.

“He said if I quit, it would be the worst thing I could do.
Well, he said more than that, and a whole lot more colorfully than I would. You
know Doc Watkins. He was nothing if not direct.”

Brody chuckled. “I remember.”

Mrs. Maguire crossed her hands in her lap and dropped her gaze
to her fingers. “Back then, there wasn’t a lot of that fanciness about enabling
and codependency, but that’s what it was. I just didn’t see it. All I saw was
that I was protecting my daughter, helping her. Doc gave me the number of a
great rehab. Told me to drop her off and drive away. I did, but damn, I didn’t
want to. She was crying and screaming and calling me names, then begging me to
come back in the same breath. I had to shut the windows, turn the rearview
mirror, so I wouldn’t give in.” Tears filled the older woman’s eyes at the
memory, and she leaned forward, grabbed a tissue from the box on his desk, and
dabbed at her face. “I left her there. Hardest damned thing I ever did in my
life, and also the best. Three months later, she came out clean. Moved to
Brookline, got herself a job in a dress shop, and after a year or so, met the
man that became her husband.”

“I’m glad that all worked out.” He’d admired Mrs. Maguire
before, but his esteem for her increased tenfold. The woman sitting across from
him possessed an incredible inner strength. “You must have been so worried.”