with her skills to walk the property line in search of these scenarios.
His gaze lit on the crushed mushrooms and his expression fell. There was no question that she’d rained on his parade somehow. As if she’d kicked a puppy instead of fungus, he bent down and gathered the bunch into his hands protectively.
“These are not just mushrooms.” He towered over her as he spread his hands open to show her. “They’re oyster mushrooms.”
“Ohhhh-kay. Oyster mushrooms,” Fiona repeated since the distinction clearly meant something to him. Wow, he was really tall. She had to crane her neck to look up at him. “Sorry.”
“They’re really delicious and extremely rare for this early in the season,” he informed her in a tender voice better reserved for when speaking of a dearly departed relative.
Wait, delicious? As in he’d planned to eat them? Food came wrapped in plastic at the grocery store, not clinging to a log outside. In the elements. Where bugs and stuff could crawl on it.
“Well, I didn’t mean to interrupt your harvest,” she shot back.
He might be cute but he had this way of smirking that put her back up, as if she were a bumbling idiot from the city who couldn’t possibly know the secrets of Vermont real estate, particularly when it came to property value.
“I still gotta take mushroom soup off the menu,” he informed her, his breath turning white in the chilly air as he turned his back on her.
“Menu.” The word did not compute. “Menu for what?”
But the not-so-cute-after-all groundskeeper had already walked away, clearly not interested in continuing a conversation with Fiona the Destroyer. The guy might have cheekbones to spare, but he’d left his personality in bed this morning. Until he found it, she’d be happy to stay indoors, well away from the surly groundskeeper.
“Fi!” a male voice behind her called out and she whirled.
The only male she cared about at this moment charged down the steps and rounded the car, his smile wide and welcoming.
“Brandon!”
Before she could blink, her brother engulfed her in a hug and everything bad that had happened thus far melted away. It had been far too long since she’d seen him, a by-product of the feud with her father since Brandon had been living here at the inn for two or three years now. The former tech-exec couldn’t seem to find his footing in the city, so he’d exited stage left for Vermont, which meant he and Fiona didn’t get to have dinner on a regular basis anymore.
Shame. She might have to bend a little more about visiting or she’d keep missing her brother. Delia too, for that matter.
“Hi, Brandon,” Angela called in a singsong voice she reserved for Fiona’s brother.
He stiffened slightly and pulled away from Fiona, turning to greet the redhead whom he’d long considered the bane of his existence. “Angela.”
His tone changed when he talked to Fiona’s childhood friend, as well. If the two of them couldn’t see that the reason they were always so weird with each other was because they belonged together, then she wasn’t going to tell them. They had to figure it out on their own.
“The trouble twins return,” he announced as he glanced back and forth between the two of them, though Fiona didn’t miss that his gaze lingered on Ang.
“Awww.” Angela punched him on the arm the way a woman does when she wants to touch a man without cluing him in that she liked him. “You still sore about those snow cones?”
“The snow cones that ended up on my head?”
They’d totally edged out Fiona, facing each other as if there was no one else in the world, which amused her. The air fairly crackled between them.
Ang slid a finger through her hair to tuck it behind her ear as she gave Brandon a saucy smile. “From how I recall it, I was ten and you pulled my hair first.”
Brandon scoffed and said something else that Fiona didn’t catch because Surly Groundskeeper had lifted the wheelbarrow and pushed it toward the back of the house. There was no denying that watching that man leave had definite appeal—she got the best view of him and she couldn’t see that annoying smirk on his face.
“Fiona,” Angela snapped in a way that indicated it wasn’t the first time she’d said her name. “Back me up on this.”
“Oh no.” Fiona shook her head and focused on her brother. “I’m not getting in the middle of it. I can’t believe you’re still living here.”
Brandon jumped on the subject change. “It’s only temporary. Just like it was last summer.”
“And the summer before that and the summer before that,” Fiona finished with an indulgent eye roll. He’d had a run of bad luck with his dotcom business in New York. She couldn’t blame him for taking time to clear his head.
She’d come to Vermont for the same reason, after all.
“I know. But you know what? I won’t knock it. Helping Dad keep this place running is a better workout that I ever got in any gym. Although I do miss being in the center of things.”
Of course he did. What sane person would pick Vermont over New York on a permanent basis? Only one with a strong sense of family, which he had in spades. “I’m sure your tech-wizard side will rise again.”
“I hope you’re right,” Brandon admitted, which told Fiona he wasn’t as happy here as he pretended. “You guys go on inside and I’ll grab your bags.”
Fiona nodded and climbed the stairs to the wide wrap-around porch. Trailing her, Ang leaned in and murmured, “He’s working out now?”
They barely made it across the threshold before a blonde dynamo nearly bowled them over. “Fiona!”
Her stepmother, Delia, swept her up in a hug. The last year of being apart vanished and Fiona settled into her stepmother’s embrace with ease as if they’d just seen each other yesterday. Delia had that way about her. No one stayed a stranger, friends only got closer and family—that was forever. Fiona didn’t even mind the slight gleam of concern in Delia’s eyes that meant she would definitely be circling back to the breakup with Nate soon. Very soon.
Maybe telling Delia about it would be the final step Fiona needed to let it go. If nothing else happened on this trip than that, it would be time well spent.
Turning her attention to Ang, Delia hugged her as well, murmuring hellos and welcomes with a broad smile.
“Oh, my gosh, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you,” Delia exclaimed.
“I know,” Fiona cut in quickly. “It’s only been since last summer, though.”
That excuse didn’t assuage her guilt. Delia loved her and wanted to spend time with her. It was that simple, and Delia didn’t understand why Fiona couldn’t put aside the difficulties with her father. No one did. Fiona included. Her father refused to talk about his reasons for selling the apartment that Fiona had loved, and therefore, Fiona refused to forgive him.
“When
