Nashville Secrets Page 3

  Mary set everything up, making it look as pretty as possible. Presentation was part of her job. She poured the coffee and gave him his. “Cream or sugar?”

  “Two creams.” He held up two fingers.

  She handed him the little packets, along with a stir stick. “I do sugar.” She sweetened her coffee while he lightened his. “These are Cline’s, obviously.” She slid a Baggie of the bone-shaped biscuits across the table. “If you want to give him one.”

  “You can do the honors.” He moved them back over to her. “Just call him around to your side and ask him to ‘sit up.’ That will get him begging for you.”

  She followed Brandon’s instructions, and in no time, Cline was sitting up with his nose twitching. She dropped a biscuit, and he caught it. The husky reclined next to her to gobble it up. She returned her attention to his master. “I think I just made a friend for life.”

  “Can’t say as I blame him.” Brandon looked at her as if she was as tempting as the pastries she’d brought. “Which of these should I try first?”

  “That’s up to you.” As a flame ignited in her belly, she sipped her coffee and wondered if she should have brought iced water instead. At least she could have cooled herself off with it.

  He reached for a chocolate-and-cinnamon scone. It was gooiest of the three, with its thick, creamy icing. She watched as he took a big masculine bite.

  He swallowed and said, “Damn, this is good.”

  “Thank you. I’m glad you like it.” She noticed that there was graffiti on his side of the table: an old-fashioned heart with initials inside it. There were dirty words scratched onto the surface, too. Nothing was ever as innocent as it seemed, not even Mary. If Brandon knew what she up to, he would be throwing the pastries back in her face.

  “Are you going to join me?” he asked.

  Anxious to clear her thoughts, she put a raspberry muffin on a paper plate. “I’ll have this. But you can take home whatever we don’t eat.” She’d packed enough for seconds and thirds.

  “I’d be happy to.” He drank his coffee. “When I was a kid, I had a nanny named Fleur, and she used to sneak me extra cookies. She said it was because I was always so well-behaved and she thought I should be rewarded for it.”

  “Did she help raise you?” Mary couldn’t have imagined someone aside from her mother kissing her forehead, or giving her cookies or tucking her in at night.

  He shook his head. “She wasn’t around for very long. I had lots of nannies. But she’s the most memorable to me. I was about seven or eight then. I think she left to go back to the Netherlands. I had the craziest crush on her.” He smiled. “My first crush and it was all because of those cookies.”

  She tried to picture him as a child. But all she saw was the polished man sitting across from her. “Were they chocolate chip?”

  “I don’t remember, but they probably were.” He toasted her with his next bite. The scone he was eating had chocolate chips in it. “So who was yours?”

  She picked at her muffin, breaking off crusty little pieces. “My what?”

  “First crush.”

  “Oh, right.” She had an unwelcome crush on him. That was for darn sure. She could barely focus on her answer. But she searched her memories and said, “In middle school. An older boy named Kasey. But he never liked me back.”

  Brandon stared across the table at her. “He would probably like you now.”

  Her pulse dipped and dived. “I got over him a long time ago.”

  His stare got deeper, more intense. “I kept thinking about you all week. I couldn’t get you off my mind.”

  She tried to keep things light, to fight the sexual feelings he incited. “About me being a new Nashville resident?”

  “About everything, I guess. I’d really like to take you out, Mary.”

  Oh wow. He’d just asked her on a real live date. Things were moving faster than she expected. But she couldn’t turn him down, not if she wanted to get to know him better.

  “Where would we go?” she managed to ask.

  He smiled. “Someplace nice.”

  For the nice girl she was supposed to be? The thought made her breath rush out. “I’m not used to fancy places.”

  “It doesn’t have to be fancy. We can do cozy.” He paused and added, “With a good-night kiss.”

  She panicked. “What if I decide that we shouldn’t kiss on the first date?”

  “Then I’ll be forced to wait until the next time I see you.” He finished his scone, swallowing the last glazed bite. “But I hope that doesn’t happen. What man in his right mind wouldn’t want to kiss you?”

  He wasn’t just any man, she thought. He was the attorney who’d filed a restraining order against her mother. “You’re making my head spin.”

  He frowned. “Why do I make you so uncomfortable? What am I doing wrong?”

  “Nothing.” He’d already done it years ago. “I just haven’t been on a date in a while.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll bring you up to speed. Do you like Chinese food? I can get us a private booth at the Crystal Buddha.”

  “That sounds good.” She toyed with her napkin. “I’ve never been there, but I’ve heard rave reviews about it.”

  “How about Thursday night?”

  “That’s fine. I’ll give you my number and you can text me when you make the reservation. Maybe you should give me your number now, too.”

  After they completed the exchange, he glanced past her and said, “I guess we’re boring my dog.”

  She followed his line of sight. Cline was sprawled out on the grass, fast asleep. “Maybe he needs his own date.”

  “I think he’s content just the way he is.”

  She nodded. The husky didn’t seem to have a care in the world. In the next quiet instant, she asked, “Would you be okay with me buying your dad’s biography? I’m getting curious to read it.”

  He angled his head. “Really? Why?”

  “To learn more about your family and how you fit in with them.” And because she could discuss the book with him and get his reactions. “It might make for an interesting conversation when we go out.”

  “Sure, we can talk about it over dinner. It would probably be better if you knew my background, anyway, with how public it is. But you’d better read fast because it’s four hundred pages.”

  “I’ll do my best.” She couldn’t tell him that she’d already read it several times.

  “Too bad there isn’t a book about your family and how you fit in with them. I’m going to have to learn about you the normal way.”

  Mary merely nodded. Normal didn’t exist in this farce of a situation. But she had to protect herself. Her and Alice and Mama. “I’m just a regular person from a regular family.”

  “We’re going to make a strange pair. You and me.”

  “The strangest,” she agreed, praying that she could handle their date—and the kiss that loomed between them.

  * * *

  After work, when Brandon came home from the office to his downtown loft, Tommy made an impromptu visit. Brandon also owned an estate near their dad’s house, but this was his main residence.

  Tommy entered the loft like the country superstar he was, decked out in fancy Western wear, with his light brown hair loosely tousled. He had hazel eyes and features similar to their father. Brandon resembled their mom, except that his hair was black and hers was blond. Their parents had gotten divorced ages ago, but Mom had forgiven Dad for his indiscretions, and they’d become friends again.

  “What’s going on?” Brandon asked.

  “I had a meeting in the area and thought I’d stop by.”

  “Was it with the producers of the show?” His brother had signed a megadeal to appear on Music Mentors, a popular reality show on a major network.

  “Yep. We’ll be filming soon.” Tommy
moved farther into the loft. “As long as I’m here, I was wondering if you’d want to have dinner with Sophie and me?” He patted his stomach. “Chef has been trying to fatten me up. You know, so my pregnant wife doesn’t feel bad.”

  As far as Brandon could tell, the father-to-be hadn’t gained an ounce. But the last time he’d seen Sophie, she was beautifully round. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m going out this evening.” Brandon strode to the bar to pour his brother a glass of sparkling berry-flavored water. Tommy never drank alcohol. Growing up with an alcoholic father had turned him off to it. Brandon drank in moderation, a cocktail here and there, a glass of wine with a meal. He didn’t have an addictive personality. But their old man sure did.

  He handed Tommy the water.

  “Thanks.” His brother took a swig. “Where are you going tonight?”

  “I have a date.” Brandon thought about Mary’s natural red hair. Or he assumed it was natural. To him, it didn’t look dyed. So far, he’d seen it only in a braid. He hoped that she wore it loose tonight. If she let him kiss her, he was going to do his damnedest to run his fingers through it. “She isn’t my usual type, though.”

  Tommy looked at him curiously. “So what type is she?”

  “She’s a pastry chef assistant, but she’s working toward getting her certification. She’s originally from Oklahoma, shares an apartment with her younger sister and likes to read at the park. She seems sweet—you know, unassuming. I never even noticed her until she approached me about my dog.”

  “Really?” Tommy widened his eyes. “My aristocratic brother is going out with a commoner? Boy, would I love to be a fly on the wall to see that.”

  Brandon blew out a breath. “Why is everyone making such a fuss about me getting interested in someone from outside my social circle?”

  “What do you mean, everyone? Who else knows about her?”

  “I mentioned her to Doreen. She could tell that I’d met someone. But I encouraged her to go after David Norton, anyway.” When Tommy gave him a blank look, he added, “The retail billionaire who just opened the new cancer research center here.”

  “Oh, yeah. That guy. I can see Doreen with him. But you with someone who approached you at the park?” his brother teased. “Now that’s epic.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe it is.” Brandon glanced around his loft, wondering what Mary would think of his place. He collected modern and contemporary art, and he’d just acquired a trio of abstract nudes he’d hung in his bedroom. They were erotic in nature, and he’d never bought anything like that before. But after he’d met Mary, he’d felt compelled to have them. The way he felt compelled to have her, too?

  “So what’s the difference this time?” Tommy asked.

  Still lost in thought, Brandon frowned. “What?”

  “Why are you interested in someone like this?”

  He thought about the paintings again. “It might just be sexual.”

  Tommy finished his water and put the empty glass down. “You’re having fantasies about a good girl.”

  “Yeah, and it makes me feel like a shark.” A predator circling for blood. “Hell, I shouldn’t even be telling you this.”

  His brother didn’t seem concerned. “At least you’re opening up your horizons.”

  And lusting after a woman who’d had only one boyfriend to speak of? Maybe he shouldn’t try to kiss her tonight. Maybe he shouldn’t even plan on seeing her again after this. “She hardly knew anything about our family when I first met her. But she asked me if I wouldn’t mind if she read Dad’s book. I told her it would be okay, so she’s supposed to finish reading it before our date.”

  Tommy scoffed. “Did you warn her about what a jerk our father can be?”

  “He’s not a jerk anymore.” Their dad was trying to make amends for his wrongdoings, for all the times he’d lied to their mother, or ignored him and Tommy or left Matt out in the cold.

  His brother squinted. “It’s amazing how you never fought with him, not once.”

  Because Brandon was the son who’d behaved, the one who never caused any trouble. The peacekeeper, as the family liked to point out. Tommy had been trouble on wheels. And Matt? His only crime was being born on the wrong side of the blanket. Dad had hurt a lot of people, but he was different now.

  “I’m going to take off,” Tommy said. “Have fun on your date, and bring your new lady friend around sometime if you two become an item. I’d love to meet her.”

  “It’s just one night. One dinner.” After that, he didn’t know what he was doing. “I’m not even picking her up at her apartment. She wants to meet me at the restaurant.”

  “She sounds independent.”

  More like cautious, Brandon thought. He changed the subject, letting Tommy get out the door. “Give Sophie a hug from me.”

  “Will do.”

  He watched his brother leave. Tommy had married his dearest childhood friend. Initially he was only supposed to be her baby’s sperm donor. But during the course of their arrangement, they’d fallen in love.

  Brandon had never come remotely close to being in love. Nor did he see it happening to him. Of course, that’s what Tommy used to say, too. They’d grown up in a mixed-up situation, where love and marriage never made much sense. Yet in spite of that, both his brothers were creating warm and stable families of their own. So maybe Brandon was wrong about his future, and the possibility existed for him, too.

  He shook away the thought and went into his bathroom to take a shower and get ready to see Mary. This was definitely not the time to think about love. Or sex, he reminded himself. He needed to get through this date with a suppressed libido and a clear head.

  Three

  One. Two. Three.

  Mary stood at the bathroom sink, counting her breaths. She remembered Mama doing that whenever she was getting ready for a big event.

  Four. Five. Six.

  She frowned into the mirror. Mama’s old method wasn’t working. Mary was still apprehensive about her date with Brandon.

  Her sister came into the room, and her reflection appeared behind Mary’s, like a hitchhiking ghost. It even gave her a chill. When Alice was little, she used to bug Mary to read ghost stories to her.

  “You look really pretty,” Alice said.

  Mary washed her mind of ghosts. “I do?”

  Her sister nodded. “Your hair looks like Mama’s.”

  “I scrunched it with some mousse.” But she hadn’t done it to emulate their mother. “Her hair was a darker shade of red than mine.”

  “It still reminds me of those old pictures of her, the ones from before.”

  Before Kirby Talbot had ruined her, Mary thought. She understood exactly what her sister meant.

  Alice sighed. “It’s not fair.”

  “I know.” Mama had died of heart failure at just fifty-two years old. “She got a raw deal, first with losing our dad, then with Kirby taking advantage of her.”

  Alice’s expression was tight. “I don’t understand why our parents never got married.”

  “Because Dad didn’t want to.”

  “Yeah, but it was like they were married, anyway. They lived together and had two kids. So what’s the difference?”

  “I can’t speak for Dad or why he didn’t think it was necessary. I only have scattered memories of him. And you don’t remember him at all.” Joel McKenzie was a long-distance truck driver who’d spent months at a time away from home. Then almost a year after Alice was born, he was in an accident that took his life. “He was good to Mama, though. She said that he was, even if he didn’t want to get married.”

  “I think things would have been okay if he’d lived.”

  Mary nodded. “Mama never would have gone to Nashville or slept with Kirby if Dad had been around.” She never would have been with Kirby if he’d been married at the time, either. She just w
asn’t that kind of person.

  Alice sighed. “I miss her.”

  “Me, too.” There wasn’t a day that went by that Mary didn’t long for their mom. They’d lost her six lonely months ago.

  They both fell silent, a huge cloud of sorrow hanging between them. Then Alice said, “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there to help pick up the pieces when Mama got so depressed. You were the one who used to pack my lunches and help me with my homework. Mama could barely get herself back and forth to work every day.”

  “It was a tough time for all of us.” Mary considered the emotional state she and her sister were in now: the anger, the grief, the pain, the emotional cocktail that had become far too familiar. “And we’re still affected by it.”

  “Yes, but at least we’re doing something about it.”

  “With me dating Brandon?” Her anxiety returned. “Is my makeup okay?” She’d used dark brown mascara and an apricot lipstick called Summer Mischief. Somehow the name seemed fitting.

  “Maybe just a little more blush.” Alice rummaged through the cosmetics on the counter. “I’ll do it for you.” She swiped the brush across Mary’s cheeks, adding a touch more color. “Perfect.”

  “Will you help me decide what to wear?” Mary was still in her robe. “I laid a couple of things out on my bed, but I’m not sure which way to go.”

  “No problem. Let’s check it out.”

  They proceeded to Mary’s bedroom. Alice evaluated each outfit, then gave the collection a critical eye. “I have something that I think will work better. Hold on.”

  She darted off and came back carrying a swingy little peach-colored cocktail dress with a lace bodice. “I bought this when I was into pastels, but I never wore it. I think it’ll look smashing on you.”

  They were the same size, but their styles were rarely interchangeable. “Are you sure the front of it won’t be too daring? I’m not used to things like that. Besides, I’m supposed be a proper girl. I can’t show up for my first date all sexy and such.” She was having enough trouble with the urges Brandon brought out in her.