Rose chooses that very moment to walk out of her bedroom. Her hair is mussed, and she’s yawning, but when she spots me, she freezes comically, holds up her hand to block the sight of me, and pretends to fall against the wall in horror. “My eyes. My EYES!”
“That’s enough out of you.” I hoist myself up and hurry to my room. I’ve got a boyfriend to send off and a new town to charm.
I better find myself some nice underwear.
2
A Disagreeable Agreement
Mack
Leave it to me to stumble upon my brother’s new girlfriend half naked.
In my defense, she’d been making a racket to end all rackets, and I was afraid something might have been seriously wrong.
Turned out nothing was wrong…except for, you know, the half-naked woman walking around in my backyard.
I guess some people might not consider that wrong.
But contrary to what most of this town believes, I’m a gentleman.
Truthfully, I felt sort of bad. Her predicament was my fault. I own the duplex. I’m well aware of all the…quirks of the property. Frankly, Poppy’s side is nowhere near ready to be lived in. That didn’t stop Holland from offering it up for her and her sister to use—which, let’s be clear, is totally like Holland. Things just work out for him, so he expects things to work out for other people. Newsflash, little bro, it’s going to take more than a positive attitude to make that half of the house livable.
I tried to warn him, but he insisted they would be fine there. Said they were happy to have a place to live. Said Poppy was the type of woman who made the best of things.
Let’s hope her resume includes making the best of leaks in the roof, because I can’t guarantee that our next summer storm won’t end up happening in her kitchen.
I glance at Holland and Poppy from where I’m leaning against my work truck, waiting for them to say their goodbyes. Holland is dressed in joggers and a white V-neck t-shirt. He’s got his sunglasses perched on top of his head. He looks like the superstar that I’m pretty sure he’s about to become.
Poppy has the total girl-next-door look going on. Her feet are bare. She’s wearing cut-off jean shorts and a flowy floral top that shows about an inch of skin above her waistline. Her dark-brown hair is tied up in a messy knot on the top of her head, and her skin is all dewy in the morning sun.
Either that, or she’s still sweating from her earlier battle with the back door.
I know I am.
The two of them are lingering, and I’ve been trying not to eavesdrop, but we need to get this show on the road. I’ve got to get Holland to the airport and then get myself back to the work site to oversee my apprentice electrician and make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid that’ll set back the entire build.
Here we go. Movement.
I stand up straighter as Holland and Poppy embrace in what appears to be a tight hug. Now he’s leaning away, taking her hands. I can tell she’s giving them a squeeze. She’s nodding. If I had to guess, this is the part where she’s assuring him that she’ll be okay while he’s gone. He’s going in for the kiss.
I look away.
Just like I’m not trying to see Holland’s girl naked, I also don’t need to see them making out.
I refuse to acknowledge the slight twinge in my chest. How would I define it? A prickle? Of what? Jealousy? Maybe. Only because it would be nice to have a partner…someone who was sad to see me go and anxious to welcome me home. I’m not sure that’s in the cards for me. Not since Tricia.
I slide into the driver’s seat and wait, drumming my thumb against the steering wheel. I don’t put the key in the ignition because I don’t want to rush the happy couple. I’m considerate like that.
Holland is only another minute. As far as goodbye kisses go, that one must have been pretty tame. I side-eye Holland and wonder if he realizes how good he’s got it. Not that I approve of this whole situation. I mean, he asked a woman to move all the way across the country to his hometown just before he heads off on a grueling pro-golf tour circuit. There’s no way this set-up is going to work, right? It has disaster written all over it.
And yet, this is Holland, and everything he touches turns to gold, so maybe I’ll be eating my words when the two of them wind up married with a baby on the way in a year or two.
“All set.” Holland reaches across his muscled upper body to buckle his seatbelt and then shoves his sunglasses down over his eyes.
I grunt and start the truck.
“Thanks again for giving me a ride. I wanted to leave my car so Poppy and her sister have a spare.”
We’ve been over this, so I know his motives. I nod.
“What did you think of her? Pretty great, right? She told me about your unfortunate encounter this morning.”
I shoot my brother a sidelong glance. Holland is grinning like it’s the most hilarious thing he’s ever heard. Some guys might get up in arms at the thought of another man seeing their girlfriend in nothing but a towel. Not Holland. He’s too used to being the golden boy for something like this to faze him. His head is so high above everyone else’s—mine included—that he doesn’t realize that if I were the type of man to lust after my brother’s girlfriend, I could totally be disrespecting her right now.
Good thing for him—and for her—I’m not that type of guy.
“She seems fine,” I offer, which is true. I don’t have much to go on, but I admit to being impressed by Poppy’s poise. She was flustered at being caught outside in her bath towel, but she didn’t make a fuss. She didn’t apologize, except for waking me up. She just desperately wanted to get inside. I’m glad I could help her with that.
“She’s more than fine. Poppy is literally the best. Like, the coolest woman I’ve ever met.”
I grunt again, and Holland takes that as his cue to continue.
“I mean, can you believe my luck? There she was, like a fountain of water, and I, a man crossing an arid dessert—”
“Finishing a training session at your posh gym?”
Holland continues, not bothering to answer my clarifying question. “I think it was love at first sight, and everything fell into place from there.” He sits back in his seat with a happy, carefree grin on his face.
I fight an eye roll. I love my little brother. I do. He’s a hard worker, which is a good thing because if he got everything he has coming to him and didn’t work for it, he would be wholly insufferable. As it stands, he’s about fifty percent insufferable.
Sixty percent.
Seventy-five percent.
And a half.
“So you think it’s going to work out between you two?” I’m trying to keep my voice light—as light as my bass-like timbre can sound, at least.
The thing is, I have my doubts. In fact, I’m fairly sure this relationship is doomed to fail. Nothing against Poppy.
Well, maybe I’m throwing a little shade her way for getting swallowed up in the glitz and glam that is Holland Bradley, enough to move herself and her sister to a different part of the country. But I’m sure she’s perfectly fine as a person.
I know my brother, though. There’s no way he’s ready to settle into a serious relationship.