that he’d opened his big mouth, he’d need to go back there and place the order.
Damn.
“So how is work going?” Brody said before Riley turned the conversation around again. His brother had started an after school program at the arts centered high school he’d once attended. For creative, energetic Riley, the job fit well.
“Awesome. The kids at the Wilmont Academy are loving the program. So much, we opened it up to other kids in the area. We’re already talking about expanding it in size and number of schools.”
“That’s great.” The waitress brought their food and laid a steaming platter of mini burgers and fries in front of Riley, a Waldorf salad in front of Brody.
“Why do you eat that crap?” Brody said. “You know what it’s doing to your arteries. With our family history—”
Riley put up a hand. “I love you, Brody, I really do, but if you say anything about my fries, I’m going to have to hurt you.”
“I just worry about you.”
“And I appreciate it. I’ll do an extra mile on the treadmill tonight if that makes you feel better.”
“It does. Did you get your flu—”
Riley tick-tocked a finger. “Don’t go all doctor on me. I’m out to lunch with my brother, and we’re talking about my job. Okay?”
Brody grinned. “Okay.”
As if to add an exclamation point to the conversation, Riley popped a fry into his mouth. “Things at Wilmont, like I said, are going great. We’ve got classes in woodworking, dance, film, you name it. They’re filling up fast.”
“That’s great.”
“Oh, yeah, before I forget. We’re having a career day next month and we’re looking for people to speak to the kids about their jobs. Answer questions about education requirements, things like that.” Riley fiddled with a fry. “Maybe you could come in and do a little presentation on going into medicine. You know, a day in the life of a doctor, that kind of thing.”
Brody pushed his salad to the side, his appetite gone. “I don’t think I’m the best person to talk about that.”
Riley’s blue eyes met his brother’s. Old school rock music flowed from the sound system with a deep bass and steady beat. “You’re the perfect one. You’ve got a variety of experiences and—”
“Just drop it. Okay?” He let out a curse and shook his head. Why had he called his brother? Why had he thought it would make things better? Hell, it had done the opposite. “I just want to get you some damned cupcakes. How many do you need?”
Riley sighed. He looked like he wanted to say something more but didn’t. “There should be fifty guests. So whatever it takes to feed that many. We’re keeping it small. I figure I’ve lived enough of my life in the limelight. I want this to be special. Just me and Stace, or as close as we can get to that.”
Brody nodded. Tried not to let his envy for Riley’s happiness show. First Finn, now Riley, settled down and making families. For a long time, Brody had traveled along that path, too. He’d dated Melissa for a couple years, and he’d thought they’d get married. Then just before he took over Doc Watkin’s practice, he’d spent two weeks working for free in a clinic in Alabama, tending to people who fell into the gap between insurance and state aid. He’d been in the middle of stitching up a kid with a gaping leg wound when Melissa had called to tell him she was done, and moving on.
“Thanks,” Brody said, getting to his feet and tossing some money onto the table. He turned away, shrugged into his jacket. “I’ll let the baker know about the cupcakes.”
“Brod?”
Brody turned back. “Yeah?”
“How are you? Really?”
Brody thought of the physicals and sore throats and aches and pains waiting for him back in his office. The patients expecting him to fix them, make them better. For a month, in Afghanistan, he’d thought he was doing just that, making a difference, until—
Until he’d watched the light die in Andrew Spencer’s eyes.
“I thought I was fine,” Brody said. “But I was wrong.”
CHAPTER THREE
KATE stared at the pile of orders on her desk, the paperwork waiting to be done, but found her mind wandering to the handsome customer who had come in a couple days ago. The doctor with the Red Sox basket, who had been both friendly and…troubled. Yes, that was the word for it. She’d joked with him about spreading the word about the shop, told him it would be enough to repay her work on the basket, and he’d said—
No it won’t.
Such an odd comment to leave her with. What on earth could he have meant? She hadn’t done anything more for him than she’d do for any other customer. Changed a bow, added some feminine touches. It wasn’t like she’d handed over a kidney or anything. Maybe she’d misheard him.
Kate gave up on the work and got to her feet, crossing to the window. She looked out over the alley that ran between her shop and the one next door, then down toward the street, busy with cars passing in a blur as people headed home after work. The sound system played music Kate didn’t hear and the computer flashed messages of emails Kate didn’t read.
Her mind strayed to Dr. Brody McKenna again. She didn’t know much about him, except that he was a Red Sox fan who’d been too distracted to notice the basket he’d picked out was more suited to a male than a female. Maybe he was one of those scattered professor types. Brilliant with medicine but clueless about real life.
She sighed, then turned away from the window. She had a hundred other priorities that didn’t include daydreaming about a handsome doctor. She’d met two kinds of men in her life—lazy loafers who expected her to be their support system and driven career A-types who invested more in their jobs than their relationships.
Few heroes like Andrew, few men who lived every day with heart and passion. Until she met one like that, dating would run a distant second to a warm cup of coffee and a fresh from the oven cookie.
The shop door rang. Kate headed out front, working a smile to her face. It became a real smile when she saw her grandmother standing behind the counter, sneaking a red devil cupcake from under the glass dome. Kate put out her arms. “Grandma, what a nice surprise.”
Nora laughed as she hugged her granddaughter. “It can’t be that much of a surprise. I’m here almost every day for my sugar fix.”
Kate released Grandma from the hug. “And I’m thrilled that you are.”
Growing up, Kate had spent hours here after school, helping out in the shop and sneaking treats from under the very same glass dome. The sweet tooth came with the family dimples, she thought as she watched her grandmother peel the paper off the cupcake.
“Don’t tell your grandfather I’m sneaking another cupcake,” Nora warned, wagging a finger. “You know he thinks I’m already sweet enough.”
“That’s
