As Brooke got ready for the dinner with her new client—and Nick’s father and brother—she couldn’t stop thinking about everything he’d told her. At least now she knew what she was dealing with.
She pulled a sleeveless floral sheath dress from her closet, and a pair of low-heeled sandals, aware of how nice it was to get ready without the twins in their carriers, on her bed. A few weeks ago, with no nanny or sitters available, she’d had to bring the twins with her to the Mayfair Hotel in Brewer for wedding-day prep for the Webber-Hayfield union, and she’d been on the phone with the very late florist when she realized she had two different shoes on. Between the stroller—albeit quiet stroller, thanks to the serious napping her twins had done that late afternoon—and her mismatched shoes and the spit-up on the lapel of her suit, she’d gotten more than a few raised eyebrows and zero referrals from the Webbers or the Hayfields.
She had a lot on her mind right now—Nick, the dinner at his family’s home, not to mention hoping to secure his future stepmother as her client—and not having to worry about the twins right now was a relief. She could hear Mikey babbling in the nursery and occasionally Nick’s voice as he talked to the twins. He was telling them they were going to get to meet his dad’s dog, Fritz, and that he was probably the cutest dog they’d ever seen in their three months on earth.
She laughed, marveling at how Nick always managed to make her forget her stress—even when he was the cause of it.
She froze for a moment, wondering if being with her twins caused him stress, reminding him of Aisha and all he’d gone through. He’d walked into her life, picked up Mikey and taken the job as her nanny all to fulfill a promise, so if her babies did trigger memories, he certainly plowed through it. The soldier in him, she realized. But still, what did he do with all of those feelings?
He probably dismissed them. Ignored them. Fought them.
She sat on her bed and slipped her right foot into a flat brown hiking sandal before she realized it hardly matched the pretty silver one on her right foot. She shook her head and kicked off the brown one, then grabbed the other silver one. Concentrate, she told herself. Stop thinking about Nick Garroway when he’s not going to be here come August. Appreciate him while he’s your hot manny, but stop wondering and speculating...and fantasizing.
As if she could stop thinking about the way he’d kissed her, how she’d been backed against the wall, his hands roaming, the hard planes of his chest pressed to hers.
“Fritz has the floppiest ears you’ll ever see,” she heard Nick say.
“Ba ga!” Mikey yelled.
Then baby laughter.
“You little scamp! Does your chewy bunny like being thrown on the floor? I doubt it.”
More baby laughter.
She sighed and strapped on the silver sandal. The reality of her life and the fantasy of Nick were one and the same. That was the problem. That was why she couldn’t stop the crazy thoughts popping into her mind all day.
You look like a family...
Her family had always been just the three of them—she and the twins. She’d been alone in the delivery room. No husband, no significant other, no family. She’d been alone while pushing the stroller up and down Main Street these past three months, noticing all the families. Not just ones that included two partners, but generations of family. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins. It wasn’t her life, but what she’d give for her twins to have all that love and connection and a clan of their own.
“Five minutes to head out,” came the loud, strong voice of her hot manny.
Nick Garroway wouldn’t let her leave the house with mismatched shoes or baby spit-up on her lapel. He wouldn’t let her be late to a meeting. He was here for her, just like he’d said he’d be.
Like he’d promised to be.
She bit her lip. All those crazy thoughts she was having? She had to stop it. He’d promised a fallen soldier to make sure she was okay, and since she wasn’t really okay, he’d stepped into her life and was taking over until her regular nanny returned. That’s all this is, she reminded herself. If you forget it for a second, you’re an even bigger fool than you were with Will Parker.
She took a deep breath and stood up. “Be there in a sec,” she called back.
With no thoughts of Nick Garroway as her person, she told herself.
How she’d accomplish that when she was going to a family dinner of his was beyond her, but one thing at a time, right?
According to Nick, his dad and her prospective client were both thrilled about the idea of babies coming to their family dinner tonight. That gave Brooke a good feeling about Jeb Garroway. Anyone who’d welcome the wedding planner’s twin babies to a dinner gathering had to be all right. By her anyway.
“What did he say when you told him your temporary job was as a nanny—and for the wedding planner?” she asked as they pulled into the driveway of his father’s house.
Nick turned off the engine. “He said, ‘You always do your own thing, that’s for sure.’” I couldn’t tell if he meant that in good way or a bad way.”
Brooke got out and opened the back door to take out Morgan’s car seat. “I think most people admire those who do their own thing. Even when it doesn’t serve them.”
“I don’t know about that,” Nick said, unlatching Mikey’s seat and carrying him in one hand while he grabbed the gift bag containing the bottle of champagne he’d stopped for. “Most people I know want their loved ones to toe the line. Do what’s expected of them.”
“Welcome!” came a male voice from the doorway as an adorable brown-and-white cocker spaniel came padding out, wagging its tail.
Brooke turned to see a man in his late fifties, tall like Nick, but with lighter hair and softer features, and a woman heading toward them.
“I’m Jeb Garroway, Nick’s father. And this lovely woman is my fiancée, Cathy Wylie. The floppy-eared guy is Fritz.”
“So nice to meet you,” Brooke said. “And hello, very cute Fritz.”
The dog sniffed her leg and padded back inside.
“Such a small world,” Cathy said, smiling at them. “To have my fiancé’s son working as the nanny for the wedding planner I made an appointment with. Something here has definitely been charted in the stars.” Like Jeb, Cathy was in her late fifties. She had wavy blond hair to her shoulders and sparkling green eyes.
“I believe the correct word is manny,” came another voice from the doorway.
Brooke glanced up. A guy who looked something like Nick stood there, holding a drink. He was tall and muscular and good-looking, but his half-wary, half-scowling expression took something away. The infamous brother, she presumed.
“Meet Brandon, my other son,” Jeb said. “Jeb, this is Brooke Timber.”
Brandon nodded at her, and she smiled back.
“And who are these darlings?” Cathy asked, peering into the car seats. “Let’s get them inside and you can introduce us.”
They headed in, with Brooke aware of the tension between Nick and his brother. Everyone seemed aware of it but was ignoring it for the time being.
They went into a big living room that had a gorgeous stone fireplace with two sofas set around it. Fritz curled up on a red dog bed by the fireplace. Brooke set the baby seats on the rug beside the huge wood coffee table, and Cathy rushed over to coo at them.
“This is Morgan and this is Mikey. They’re three months old,” Brooke said.
Cathy touched a hand to her chest. “They’re precious.”
“They are, indeed,” Jeb said.
From the way Cathy slid her hand into Jeb’s and squeezed, Brooke could tell that Jeb was thinking of his own two boys when they’d been babies. And that Cathy had had a hand in helping Jeb accept his older son for who he was, not who Jeb had wanted him to be. Or become.
Brooke smiled at Jeb and Cathy. “And luckily it’s close to their bedtime, so they should conk out any minute. We’ll have a nice, peaceful dinner and can talk all about the dream wedding you envision.”
“Of course, if one or both get fussy, you’ve got your nanny right here to step in,” Cathy said with a grin. “I love it. Former soldier turned baby whisperer.”
Brandon rolled his eyes. “That’s not a thing.”
“Well, it is now,” Jeb said with a piercing look at his younger son.
Brooke glanced at Nick, who was sitting as far away from his brother as possible while still being in the same room.
“A temporary thing, though,” Brandon remarked. “Isn’t that what you said, Nick?”
Nick nodded. “I’m at Brooke’s service until her regular nanny returns at the start of August.”
“So, then you’ll come work at Garroway Paper, right?” Brandon asked, staring at Nick. “I’ll have to train you, but we’ll start you in sales and you’ll pick it up fast. I’m sure you’ll be regional manager by Christmas. Our guy right now is just about ready for a promotion. Then in a year, we can talk a VP title.”
Nick cleared his throat. “We’re here to talk dad and Cathy’s wedding.” He turned to Cathy. “Brooke said something about a wellness retreat?”
Brooke glanced at Brandon. The guy was frowning at being shut down, but at least he wasn’t insisting on an answer.
“Sagebrush Sanctuary and Retreat,” Cathy said. “It’s just an hour from here but pure rural. The cabins blend right into the surrounding nature. It’s so peaceful. The center offers yoga retreats, mindful-living seminars, everything to do with a calm mind and healthful body. I’d love to have the ceremony outside, in the gazebo, and the reception in one of the open-air structures.”
“Sounds lovely,” Brooke said. “I did some research on the place, so we can talk about options tonight.”
Cathy smiled. “Great.” She stood. “Let’s head into the dining room. Dinner is ready.”
Nick picked up both baby carriers and followed Cathy, with Brooke beside him. Jeb and Brandon were behind them.
“Have to say, I never thought I’d see Nick holding a baby, let alone two,” Brandon quipped. “Wonders never cease, I suppose. Gives me hope that he’ll take his rightful place with us at Garroway Paper.”
Brooke turned just in time to see Brandon lay a hand on Nick’s back, and she could see Nick stiffen.
“Ga ba da!” Mikey said, waving his arms. “Ba da!”
Nick seemed glad for Mikey’s interruption as they entered the large dining room. “If none of you speak baby, that means ‘pick me up right now!’”
“Oh, I speak baby,” Jeb said. “You two were champion babblers.”
Brandon laughed. “I never babbled.”
“You most certainly did,” Jeb said. “And I always knew what you were trying to say.”
“Come on, you weren’t exactly a hands-on father, even when we were talking in full sentences,” Nick said, and then froze the moment the words were out of his mouth.
Brooke knew he regretted it, that it had just tumbled out before he could think, before he could stop himself.
Jeb stiffened too, his expression tightening. “No, I wasn’t. But when my boys have children, I’ll certainly be a hands-on grandfather.”
“We can only move forward, not backward,” Cathy said, nodding. “Nick, you can set the carriers down on the floor.” She pointed to the left.
Nick closed his eyes for a second, then opened them, moving near a window. “Dad, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“You’ll say anything to defend betraying the family,” Brandon snapped. “As if Dad working all the time had anything to do with you leaving.”
Now the entire room was full of stiff, unsmiling people. Except for the babies, who were both wiggling and wanted to be out of their carriers.
Nick’s expression was grim as he took out Mikey, and Brooke rushed over to take Morgan. They stood in front of the window, the filmy gauze curtains filtering the early evening light. Nick had told Brooke he’d changed and fed both boys before they’d left, so the babies should require just a little soothing and swaying, and they’d be ready to be put back in their carriers and down for the next few hours.
“Hush, little baby,” Nick whisper-sang, rocking Mikey gently back and forth.
It amazed Brooke how Nick was able to compartmentalize. His focus was laser sharp on the baby in arms. Not the tension in the room. Or what he’d said.
“As I live and breathe,” Brandon muttered, shaking his head. “All you need is the Mary Poppins umbrella.”
Nick let out a ragged sigh. “I’d ask you what your problem is, Brandon, but I know what it is. Let’s leave our issues out of tonight. This is about Dad and Cathy and their wedding.”
So much for the laser-focus, Brooke thought, her stomach sinking.
“So big of you,” Brandon said, but yanked out his chair and sat down.
Jeb sent each of his boys a sharp look and sat down, as well.
“Well, this guy is ready for bed,” Nick said. “How about his twin?” he asked Brooke.
Brooke forced a smile. “Yup, he’s ready.”
They put the babies back in the carriers on the floor. Between the dim lighting, the candles on the table and the curtains filtering the still-strong sunshine at past six o’clock, this setting and hum of voices was ideal for baby sleep. Both little ones fought their eyes closing, but with a few rocks of the carriers, Mikey and Morgan were asleep.
“Ah, success,” Nick said as he moved to the table and held out a chair for Brooke—the one directly across from his brother, so that he wouldn’t have to sit there. Then he sat beside Brooke. Hey, she got it. She wouldn’t want to face that scowl for the next hour either if it were directed at her.
“Brandon, will you help me bring everything out?” Cathy asked.
Brandon leaped up. “Sure.” He followed Cathy into the kitchen, and there was some murmuring, which Brooke assumed was Cathy asking Brandon to chill out for the sake of their dad.
Moments later they returned with a huge tossed salad, an amazing-looking pasta dish and bruschetta.
“Help yourselves to whatever appeals,” Cathy said, and they all stood and heaped their plates full. “Brooke, did you always want to be a wedding planner?” Cathy asked as they sat down, ready to eat.
Brooke nodded. “I think I got lucky—being a wedding planner was all I’ve wanted to do since I was very young. My grandmother started the business and I was her apprentice for as long as I can remember. Brides seemed like princesses to me, royalty for the day. I loved the idea of planning something so special. Wedding planner feels like an honor to me.”
“I’m glad you see it that way,” Cathy said. “Because special is the word for the wedding I envision.”
Brooke smiled, heaping some pasta and salad on her plate. She had a feeling she and Cathy would get along just fine.
“That’s the way I’ve always looked at family businesses,” Brandon said, then took a bite of the pasta. “You apprentice young, learn the ropes and then suddenly you’re running the enterprise. I’m impressed, Brooke.”
She slid an uneasy glance at Nick, who was staring at his plate. “Well, as I said, I loved the world of weddings. It’s what I wanted to do with my life. But what if I wanted to be a chef or an ambassador in the foreign service or a teacher? I think my grandmother would have wanted me to follow my passion.”
Brandon sipped his wine. “She might have said so, but I’m sure it would have broken her heart to have you ignore the family business that put a roof over your head and food on the table.”
“Oh, Brandon, give it a rest,” Nick said. “We all get it. I did something different with my life and you didn’t like it.”
“No one liked it,” Brandon snarled.
Nick slugged down his sparkling water. Brooke and Cathy made tight smiles at each other. And Jeb Garroway just looked uncomfortable.
“Why don’t we talk privately after dinner,” Nick said to his brother. “For now let’s enjoy this delicious meal. The pasta is amazing, Cathy.”
Cathy beamed. “Your dad made the pasta. I did the bruschetta and the salad.”
“Wow, Dad,” Nick said. “I didn’t know you started cooking. That’s great.”
His dad smiled, the tension between the two of them thankfully forgotten. “And hopefully you’ll come over often so I can try out my mad skills on you. I’m taking an Italian-cooking course at the community center.”
Brooke grinned. Based on everything Nick had told her about his dad, it sure sounded like Cathy had had an amazingly positive influence on him.
Nick’s shoulders visibly relaxed. His dad’s acceptance of him and warm welcome meant the world to him, clearly.
But soon enough the pasta was gone and only crumbs of the bruschetta remained.
“Let’s go into dad’s office,” Nick said to his brother.
Hopefully they’d talk and come out with their arms around each other, each accepting the other’s differences.
Brooke, Cathy and Jeb watched the two Garroways head out of the dining room. A door closed.
“Well, fingers crossed,” Jeb said. “I’ve talked to Brandon until I had no words left, and he was stubborn as ever about how Nick ‘betrayed’ us. I tried to tell him that we looked at that all wrong, that we should be proud of who he was, who he is, but he’s just stuck on it.”
Brooke heard voices coming from the room the brothers had gone into. Raised voices.
“Oh, so now you’re Mr. Family Oriented?” Brandon’s raised voice said. “Giving a crap about Dad? Please.”
Uh oh. Brooke hadn’t heard what Nick had said that had gotten that response.
“You have some damned nerve, Nick,” Brandon continued, his voice booming. “First you disappear on us for ten years—eleven years—to do what you want, and now that you’re back, what do you do? Get a job working for someone else. And as a nanny? Where is your shame?”
“My shame?” Nick repeated, his own voice not quite as loud but stone cold. “About being a nanny? Are you serious?”
“Oh, wait, I mean manny.” Brandon laughed. “Do you want to guess how many people stopped me today on Main Street to tell me my brother, the soldier, is a manny? I told the first two that they were mistaken. By the fourth time I realized it had to be true. A manny,” he repeated with a dry chuckle.
Brooke, Jeb and Cathy all glanced uncomfortably at one another, then looked away.
“They got along so well when they were kids,” Jeb whispered, shaking his head. “I hate that this is how things are. Nick was right—I wasn’t around much when they were young because I put work first. And when things turned ugly between them, I threw myself even more into work because I couldn’t deal with it.” He let out a breath and stared down at the table.
“Hey,” Cathy said, putting an arm around him. “I think a family wedding will help bring them together. Bring you all together.”
Brooke sure hoped so.
“We’re done here,” Nick said—through gritted teeth, if Brooke wasn’t mistaken.
“Why the hell would you waste your time as a babysitter?” Brandon asked as a door opened and footsteps pounded toward the dining room. Nick entered the room, his expression furious, his brother trailing him. “Just tell me that. Tell us all that.”
Nick ignored him and walked over to the baby seats on the floor, where Mikey was beginning to fuss a bit. Nick unlatched the harness and picked up the baby, cuddling him close against his chest. “I’ve got you,” he said softly to Mikey, swaying him in his arms a bit.
Brooke glanced at Brandon, who looked half incredulous, half disgusted. It couldn’t be fun to be that disgruntled, she thought, and she had a feeling Brandon Garroway was disgruntled all of the time.
“I worked hard on the tiramisu for dessert, so you two will sit here and enjoy it and be civil,” Jeb said, pointing a finger at his sons.
Neither Garroway son responded.
“I’ll help bring out dessert,” Brooke said, following Cathy into the kitchen.
“A change of subject is definitely in order,” Cathy whispered in the kitchen. “Let’s talk wedding. That should shut up the guys.”
Brooke laughed. She knew she liked Cathy.
They brought in the tiramisu, laughing over Jeb’s account of failing miserably the first time, messing up the steps his cooking teacher had listed on the recipe. The dessert was definitely missing something—had he forgotten to soak the ladyfingers in coffee?—but was still scrumptious.
Jeb turned the conversation to Brooke, asking about the wedding-planning business and the craziest wedding she’d ever planned.
“The one where both the bride and groom got cold feet, right before the ceremony was to start,” Brooke said, shaking her head as she remembered. “Big wedding, over 250 guests. But it turned out the best man, the groom’s brother, had been madly in love with his lifelong best friend, the bride’s sister, and he proposed right there, and the wedding turned into an engagement party. Both families were there, so it worked out.”
“That is crazy,” Jeb said, shaking his head.
“I had the big wedding the first time around,” Cathy said. “Now my dream wedding is a small, intimate affair with a view of the mountains. Just close family and good friends. My two daughters—they’re nineteen and twenty-one—will be my maids of honor, so that’s it for the bridal party.”
“And I’d like the two of you to be my best men,” Jeb said, looking from Brandon to Nick.
Brooke slid a glance at the Garroway brothers. They both looked miserable under their tight smiles.
“Of course, Dad,” Brandon said. “You can always count on me.”
Nick smiled at his father. “Thank you for asking. It’d be my honor.”
Brooke caught Nick’s brother rolling his eyes.
Ooh boy, the wedding preparations were not going to be fun where these two were concerned.
For the next ten minutes, Brooke and Cathy talked about the venue, food and flowers. Cathy was a vegan and didn’t drink alcohol, and the wedding would not be typical. No problem. Brooke knew three vegan caterers whose food was amazing.
“There’s one small thing, though,” Cathy said. “Well, a big thing. My friend who owns the retreat center needs to up the date to next weekend. The whole weekend will be ours, but it’s certainly short notice for you, Brooke.”
“Next weekend?” Brandon sputtered. “What about our business trip to see the Midwest and Southern regional sales managers?”
“That’s what right-hand employees are for,” Jeb said. “Between our VPs, the trip will go fine without us. And besides, you could use a weekend away.”
“I wouldn’t call a ‘wellness center’ a vacation,” Brandon muttered under his breath. “Do people chant there?”
Cathy laughed. “Only if they want. It’s about nature and relaxing, Brandon. You’ll love it there. I promise.”
“I’ll drive out to the center tomorrow, see if I can meet with the events manager, and then plan out the entire wedding, talk to my vendors and give you the details by tomorrow night. Sound good?”
“Perfect,” Cathy said. “I leave my wedding in your capable hands.”
Yes! Client secured!
Good news for Brooke, indeed. But how the two Garroway brothers would spend a weekend together—a dry weekend, at that—at a wellness center, without pushing each other off a mountain cliff, was something else entirely.