The Buy-In (Graham Brothers #1)(97)

I run my palms over the surface of the desk, then sit down. The small wingback is so much more comfortable than the cheap office chair I suffer in when I work at home.

“I know you don’t use your home office much, but I thought it was because you were avoiding me.”

It was, actually, and guilt floods me. I stand up and wrap my arms around him. “This is perfect. I will love working here.”

If my office got me all emotional, Jo’s room pushes me over the edge. The room is at least three times the size of her little closet room at the farmhouse, but still maintains the same cozy aesthetic. Curtains hang around the bed, which will give Jo the ability to close herself in. There is a built-in window seat with a cushion and storage underneath. One entire wall is bookshelves, half-filled already with many of her favorites. There is even a ladder that slides along the bookshelves, every book lover’s dream.

“Jo will never leave this room,” I say. “Speaking of which, I need to pick her up from school soon. She’s going to totally flip out.”

“One more room first,” Pat says, dragging me by the hand. We barely glance into the bathroom next to Jo’s room, and then Pat pauses in front of the last door, which is back by the kitchen.

“What?” I ask, suspicious of the guilty look on his face. “Is this like Bluebeard’s secret closet?”

Pat doesn’t immediately say no, which is not the best sign. He bites his lip, then puts a hand on the doorknob. “In my defense, I designed this place with hope in mind. I didn’t think we’d be moving in so soon.”

“Hope for what?”

The door swings open. I’m so distracted by the gorgeous master bedroom that it takes me a moment to see exactly why he’s hedging: the king-sized bed in the room.

The ONLY bed in the room.





Chapter Thirty-One





Pat





After Lindy leaves in my truck to pick up Jo, I head out, feeling a restless tension building in my body. Maybe it’s all the pent-up feelings left after twenty-four hours of being in the kissing zone with Lindy. Or perhaps I’ve been clubbed over the head with the same emotional overwhelm Lindy has.

I mean, sure—the house that just got eaten by a tree isn’t MY childhood home. Jo isn’t MY niece I’ve raised since infancy. But I don’t halfway invest in things. I leap before I look, or maybe as I’m looking. I’m fully in this thing, and it feels a little like I’ve jumped off a high dive platform. As I watch the water coming closer and closer, I’m not sure whether I’m going to execute a perfect ten or a big ol’ belly flop.

I consider heading to Mari’s for something to eat—I can always eat—but then I spot James’s truck parked by the silos. Well, isn’t that interesting!

I find him wandering around the open space outside the silos. “Well, look what the storm dragged in,” I say, making him jump.

He spins to face me and quickly smooths his expression, but not before I see a flash of panic, like a kid caught elbow-deep in the cookie jar. He nods. “Patty.”

“Whatcha doing, big brother?”

James clenches his jaw and looks away. “I’m just …”

“Just considering how this place would look as a thriving brewery? Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.” I mime locking my lips and toss the invisible key over my shoulder.

“You couldn’t keep a secret if you had your jaw wired shut.” He steps closer and squints, brushing a hand over my hair. “Is that glitter in your hair?”

I bat his hand away, ignoring the glitter comment. “Since neither of us have our jaws wired shut, how about some lunch on me?”

A few minutes later, we’re tucked into a back booth at Mari’s, the one where Jo sat the first day we met. Mari brings us both menus and me a kiss on the cheek. “Good to see you boys. How are Jo and Lindy?”

I explain the events of the morning and let Mari know the dogs are at her place with Val. James’s expression doesn’t change much, but Mari coos and pats me on the head.

“We’ll keep the dogs for however long. Whatever you need, necio.”

I put a hand over my heart. “After all this, am I still a pest?”

“Always.” I hear her laughter even after she heads into the kitchen with our orders. The Bobs are settling up their check, then the three of them amble over to our table.

“Did you read over our notes, Coach?” the first Bob asks.

Not even a little bit. This morning at practice, they handed me six single-spaced, typewritten pages. Even without the glitter tornado and the tree falling, I doubt I could have read their thesis. “Working on it. Thank you.”

The second Bob shakes his head. “The best thing you did was bench the Waters kid.”

“If he can get his ego in check, he’ll make a fine QB,” the third Bob says.

“Can any Waters keep their ego in check?” Bob number one scoffs.

“Hey!” someone calls. “I take offense to that.”

I somehow missed seeing Wolf Waters reading a book at one of the tables. He sets down his book—an unauthorized biography of Dolly Parton—and joins us. James gives me a look, silently asking if I’m going to need him to hold me back. But the whole proposal thing feels like a lifetime ago. Wolf’s easy expression makes it clear he isn’t holding a grudge about me trying to punch him OR about me getting the girl. He shakes the Bobs’ hands.