up his hands, visibly protesting his innocence. “What? What did I do?”
“Go check on the caterer, would you?”
Moments later Duncan bore his grandmother deeper into the house, leaving Cate alone with Brody.
The man who had avoided eyeing her until now, gave her a crooked grin. “Surprise, lass. I’m back.”
* * *
Brody wasn’t an idiot. He knew when a woman was glad to see him and when she wasn’t. Cate Everett looked like someone who had swallowed bad milk. His pride took a hit, but he maintained his smile with effort. “It was nice of you to come with Granny. I know she’s been dreading this moment.”
Cate took off her coat slowly and handed it to him. “Then why force the issue?”
He shrugged, turning to hang up Cate’s wrap. “There are decisions to be made. My ninety-two-year-old grandmother has been sleeping in a closet-sized room with the barest of essentials. Grandda is gone. This house is still here. We can’t pretend anymore.”
Cate’s jaw tightened. “Are you always so sure you know what’s best for everyone?”
He cocked his head, studying her from a distance, even though he thought about grabbing her up and kissing her soundly. The last time the two of them had seen each other, they had been naked and breathless in Cate’s bed.
“Have I upset ye in some way, Cate? I had to leave. You knew that.”
A month after his grandfather’s funeral, Brody had returned to Candlewick to spend time with his grandmother and to assess the state of the family business. Stewart Properties was a thriving company with a stellar reputation in the United States.
Unfortunately, Geoffrey Stewart was gone now. Brody’s own father had no desire to return to the States permanently. So something had to be done about Granny Isobel.
Brody had spent four weeks in North Carolina, two of them wildly in lust with the beautiful and brilliant Cate Everett. By day he had been a dutiful grandson. At night he had found himself drawn time and again to the woman who had a reputation around the small town for being kind but standoffish. With Brody, she had been anything but...
To be honest, the depth of his physical infatuation had made him the tiniest bit uncomfortable. He understood the mechanics of sexual attraction. He’d even had his share of serious relationships. But when his grandmother introduced him to her friend and neighbor, Cate Everett, Brody had felt like a tongue-tied adolescent.
Cate was a mix of femme fatale and spinster schoolteacher. Her pale blond hair was like sunshine on a winter afternoon, though she kept it tucked up in a tight knot on the back of her head most days, the kind of knot that looked headache-producing from the get-go.
But when she let it down...hot damn. Even now Brody’s fingers itched to touch the fall of silk that had spilled across his chest and still featured in his fantasies.
She was tall, five-ten at least. Brody knew the curves and valleys of her alluring shape, but Cate kept her body mostly hidden beneath loose cardigans and below-the-knee jumpers. He had no clue why a woman as intensely feminine as she was would make a concerted effort to hide in plain sight.
After a long, awkward silence, she cast him a sideways glance, her small smile rueful. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long day. It’s nice to see you again, Brody.”
He wrinkled his nose. “Nice?”
“I didn’t want to give you any ideas.”
“About what?”
“You know what,” Cate said crossly. “I’m not interested in picking up where we left off.”
“Maybe I wasn’t going to ask.” He taunted her deliberately. Her prickly attitude was both frustrating and a challenge. He’d never met a woman with as many complicated layers as Cate Everett.
Cate sighed. “It’s cold here in the foyer. Do you mind if we go find the others? I’m starving.”
“Of course. I do remember how ye like to eat.”
When Cate flushed to her hairline, he smiled inwardly. On one memorable occasion last fall, the two of them had climbed out of Cate’s bed at midnight and fixed scrambled eggs and bacon, because they had skipped dinner in favor of urgent, mind-blowing sex.
Cate knew her way around Isobel’s house, so he let her lead. She and Granny had been friends for several years. Although Brody had pumped his grandmother for information about the aloof American, she had fed him few details.
They found Duncan and Isobel in the dining room. The caterer who was preparing dinner had set an elegant table with Stewart china and silver and crystal. Brody’s grandmother stood behind the chair that had been her husband’s and rested her hands on the tall back. “One of you boys should sit here,” she said with the tiniest quaver in her voice.
Brody and Duncan looked at each other. Cate winced. Finally, Brody shook his head. “I can’t, Granny. Neither can Duncan.”
“Then why did ye make me come up here?” she snapped, her eyes welling with tears. “If my own grandsons won’t move on, how am I supposed to?”
To Brody’s relief, Cate stepped forward. “What if I take Mr. Geoffrey’s chair tonight, Miss Izzy? It would be my honor. You can sit here beside me.”
Brody mouthed a thank-you to her over his grandmother’s head. Izzy had some definite ideas about how the future was going to play out, and she wasn’t above emotional manipulation to get her way. He and Duncan had spent hours discussing possibilities, but no single solution had presented itself as of yet.
Without extra leaves in the antique table, the four adults sat in an intimate enclave, Cate and Duncan at the head and foot, Brody and Izzy to Cate’s left and right. Fortunately, the caterer was on his game, and the elaborate meal kicked off immediately, helping ease the moments of tension. The brothers had ordered all of Izzy’s favorites: fresh brook trout, seasoned carrots and potatoes, flaky biscuits and tender asparagus, all washed down with an expensive zinfandel. Though the elderly woman’s capacity for food was modest, she ate with delight, her worn, wrinkled face aglow.
Cate did her part, not only by sitting in for the ghost at the table, but also by contributing with her quick wit and stimulating conversation. The four adults covered books and politics and international affairs.
Duncan, much to Brody’s dismay, seemed especially taken with Cate. That was a really bad idea. Maybe Brody should have given his little brother a heads-up that the lady was spoken for.
He choked on a bit of carrot and had to wash it down with half a glass of water, red-faced and stunned. If Duncan ended up being the one to move here with Granny and keep the business afloat, it made perfect sense that he and Cate might hit it off.
Apparently, Brody did a poor job of disguising his emotions. Granny Isobel waved a fork at him. “Ye okay there, my lad? Did you find a bone in your fish?”
Brody grimaced. “I’m
