Our Finest Hour (The Time #1)(63)

I drive through the now green light and pull into the parking garage. “I appreciate your concern. But don't worry, I'll be—”

“Fine?” Britt's lips twist in an ironic smile.

I park and climb out, shooting her a look over the top of my car. “Yes. Now can you please help me pick out something daytime fancy? Or do I need to go it alone?”

“God, no, don't go it alone.” She shudders playfully.

Our heels snap against the concrete floor as we switch into power shopping mode. If anybody can get me daytime fancy in forty-five minutes, it's my best friend.



I'm ready.

I think, anyway.

Maybe prepared is a better word. I'm prepared to be hit over the head with mother-daughter love.

It's not just the brunch I needed to prepare for. All week long, it’s been a gluttony of maternal love and praise. This time of year always is.

I walk out of my room, Claire's rose gold patent leather flats dangling from one hand. Isaac and Claire are in the living room, sitting on the couch. He's running a brush through her hair. She sits poised, eyes wide, and Isaac looks like he's concentrating. It makes me smile.

Isaac catches sight of me and whispers loudly down to Claire. “Look at Mommy. Doesn't she look pretty?”

Claire giggles, one hand over her mouth. “I like your skirt, Mommy.”

I twirl, and she and Isaac laugh.

“There.” Isaac smooths Claire's hair. “All the tangles are gone.”

Claire scrambles off the couch. “I need my headband.” She runs from the room.

When she’s disappeared down the hall, Isaac turns to me, eyebrows creased. “Aubrey, while we have a second alone, I just wanted to make sure this brunch is OK with you.”

His concern makes me feel warm inside.

When I don't answer right away, he takes my hand and turns it over, fingertips trailing across the skin. “You can tell her you changed your mind. My mom won't be mad. She'd understand.”

I swallow, fighting off the tingling sensation starting up in my thighs. He's so close, and he smells so good. Does he know? Does he know what his nearness is doing to me? I can't focus on anything right now. He's waiting for me to answer him, imploring me with his eyes.

“Um, yeah. I don't think that's necessary. I'll be all right.” I withdraw my hand. It's for the best that we break physical contact. Hurt shadows the brightness in his eyes. Knowing I put it there makes me feel bad.

“You know what's best.” His frown turns to a smile.

Since our first date last weekend, we’ve spent four more hours together. Each hour amazing, each hour fulfilling, each hour giving me so much more than I deserve. I wish I could say all this, but thinking the words and actually releasing them are two different things.

“Did my dad call you back yet?” I ask, searching through my purse for my lipstick.

“He’s meeting us for lunch.”

“Technically it’s brunch.” I raise an eyebrow while I apply the lipstick.

He gives me a look. “Do you think your dad goes to brunch?”

“Hah. Good call.”

Isaac fingers the hem of my skirt. It’s modest, falling just above the knee.

“I like this on you.”

“Are you about to tell me you’d like it better on the floor?”

“Hmm maybe.” His hand slips under my skirt, fingers blazing a trail up my thigh.

“Isaac.” My voice is a warning. I cross my legs. Access denied.

“I know, I know,” he sighs. His fingers retrace their steps, appearing out from under my skirt. I uncross my legs and stand normally again.

“You need to get your game face on.” I can hear Claire coming from her room, and Isaac still has his hooded gaze on me.

He rubs his eyes and blinks twice. “I’m back,” he says, bouncing his shoulders a few times.

Claire walks in and rests her arms over the back of the couch, her pink cast standing out against the fabric. I double check my skirt, just to be sure. We spend a few minutes saying goodbye, and Isaac reminds me how to get where I’m going.

I don’t need the directions, but it’s Isaac’s nature. He’s a caretaker.

“Good luck with my dad,” I say, walking out with Claire in tow.

“Good luck with my mom and Lauren. They’re a little at odds right now.” Isaac frowns as he says it. “I wouldn’t advise asking them about it either.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” I say just as the door swings shut.

I’m happy to stay far away from whatever is going on with Lucia and Lauren. I don’t want anything to do with any mother-daughter dissension.

Claire holds my hand and attempts to skip all the way to the car, and I try to keep up, without twisting my ankle.



Lucia is waiting for us at the fountain near the entrance. When she sees us, she rushes forward.

“You both look lovely. I’m so glad you decided to come.” Her hat bumps my forehead when we hug. She bends down so she’s on Claire’s level.

“Look at that pretty dress.”

Claire nods with happiness and runs a hand down her stomach. She hasn’t stopped touching the soft fabric since I put it on her.

Lucia straightens. “Lauren should be here any minute.” She checks the gold watch on her wrist. “She’s always late. Operates on Lauren Standard Time.” There’s annoyance in her voice.