The Lemon Sisters (Wildstone #3)(18)

Or months . . .

She was awakened the next morning by the banging in her head. Damn wine, she thought, and started to fall back asleep.

But then Tommy was standing at the bedside, looking disgusting healthy and not hungover in the slightest. He held out his phone. “For you,” he said.

“’Lo?” she managed, holding her head onto her shoulders. Damn. Thirty years old was too old to drink until two in the morning.

“When you’re not dead,” Brooke said in her ear with false politeness, “you return a damn phone call.”

Mindy gasped, sitting straight up. “The kids, is everyone—”

“They’re good. They’re great, actually. But jeez, Min, tell me you’re not still sleeping while I’m over here working on no sleep at all.”

Mindy let out a breath of relief. “Not still sleeping, at least not anymore. And hey, sometimes you just need to lie in bed and rest for a couple of years, ya know?”

“I hate you.”

Mindy could hear Maddox crying in the background. “What’s wrong with my baby?”

“Lots of things,” Brooke said. “But at the moment it’s the fact that I won’t let him get into the oven with my sweet lemon bread.”

Mindy snorted, but only because she totally understood. There was no reasoning with Maddox on the best of days. “You’re making my kids your sweet lemon bread?”

“Yeah. Figured it was more acceptable than a pitcher of frozen margaritas. So it’s been the agreed-upon two days, Min. What time are you coming home today?”

“Yeah, about that . . .” Mindy bit her lower lip, torn between momma guilt and the need to clear her muddled head. “I’m not.”





Chapter 5


When life gives you lemons . . .

Brooke stood in the kitchen staring out the window, running the pads of her thumbs over the tips of her fingers, back and forth, back and forth.

The calming gesture wasn’t working today. It’d been an hour since Mindy had told her she wasn’t coming home, and Brooke was still trying not to freak out.

Mindy wanted the rest of the week.

Brooke had taken personal time off from work for these past few days, and that hadn’t been a problem. Calling out for the rest of the week would be. Cole had a lot of good qualities. Patience wasn’t one of them. He’d most definitely bitch about it.

Or he’d show up here in some misguided attempt to take her back. Sweet, but she didn’t need him here. She had this.

Restless, she stepped out back to sit in the only shady spot on the deck. She had a glass of homemade lemonade—because when life gives you lemons, and all that—but wished it was something stronger.

A lot stronger.

She turned the glass around in her hands. Exactly twice. Then twice more. Rolling her eyes at herself, she drew in a deep breath of fresh air. Late May in Wildstone was just about perfect. Seventy-five degrees, with a light breeze that was scented with oak trees, sea air, and . . . more than a hint of lost hopes and dreams.

She didn’t miss LA. That was the shocker. She didn’t miss her current job, either. That wasn’t a shock at all. No, the things she missed, like the weight of her camera around her neck and the ability to go adventuring, hadn’t been within her reach in a long time. They were within her reach now. Or so she told herself. After all, she had her plan: Help Mindy and kick Linc’s ass. Apologize to Garrett. But that was proving harder than she’d thought it would be, and she’d thought it’d be really hard. He’d been right in front of her, and instead of apologizing for what she’d done, she’d . . . She shook her head. She’d ended up tongue-tied and unable to bring it up at all. She had no idea what was wrong with her, but all her feelings for him from that time in her life seemed stuck in her throat. Fact was, she was crushing on him all over again, and that couldn’t happen. She needed to handle this chapter of her life and move on. Go back to LA, talk to Cole about getting her old job back or one like it, and live life again.

She couldn’t wait. She’d absolutely loved traveling the planet on someone else’s dime, going home between gigs, keeping both worlds in motion. Loved the freedom that had allowed her to wander to her heart’s content, but also have a place to call home.

That’s what she missed.

With the kids still at camp for another few hours, she set her head back and closed her eyes, which was when she heard it, an odd thunk, thunk, thunk. Rising, she followed the sound to the side yard, passing the Slip ’N Slide, which appeared to have gotten bigger and longer than the last time she’d seen it.

The fencing was open rail. The neighbors to the back and right of the house were both horse ranchers. Garrett was to the left. He had enough land to ranch, but at the moment, it was just the house, the barn, and empty pasture.

Following the rhythmic noise, she made her way through a break in the fence, finding herself insatiably curious in a way she hadn’t been when she’d grown up here. The barn door was open. Three cats sat in the doorway, one of them Princess Jasmine, all watching someone inside with intense interest. Brooke moved closer and solved one mystery.

Garrett stood in the center of the barn wielding an ax in the same way he’d handled his hard-knock life—with effortless ease. But that wasn’t what stopped her in her tracks and had her heating up from the inside out. No, that honor went to the fact that he’d stripped off his shirt, leaving him in nothing but low-slung jeans and work boots as he attacked a mountain of wood rounds.