Lily tried to sound casual, but the sudden glint in Brendan’s eyes meant he’d seen the hopeful glance she’d sneaked at Sonia’s radio, a charming relic from the 1970s that resembled a toaster and boasted real dials instead of a touch pad.
“You’ll have plenty of time to bang a few pots and pans together.” Brendan’s dry statement could only be a reference to Lily’s brief foray into the kitchen, when she’d whipped up a veggie omelet for breakfast. “Sing. Tap dance. Make all the noise you want.”
Cheering, Lily thought. That would be the noise she’d be making.
Brendan’s lips twitched. That he’d read her mind was as unnerving as the possibility a real live heart beat underneath the pocket of his black polo.
Lily was relieved when Missy rolled to her feet, spotted her reluctant host and released a joyful howl.
He winced. “You’re still here.”
Lily imagined Brendan had thought the same thing a few hours ago, only he wouldn’t have been referring to the basset hound.
“Where else would she be?”
“In the kitchen, chewing on a table leg? Hunting for shoes to bury underneath the hostas?”
At least now Lily knew where to look for her missing flip-flop.
Not deterred by Brendan’s less than flattering assumptions, Missy shuffled toward him, tail wagging.
“I’ll be back.” Brendan ducked out of the room before the basset hound could shed on his khakis.
Lily smiled down at her. “You just earned that walk.”
The phone rang while Lily was in the kitchen, mixing up a fresh pitcher of iced tea. Brendan still hadn’t returned, although it had been well over an hour since he’d driven away to assist the truck driver. The ringing stopped, only to start up again less than a minute later.
Brendan had said the call was important….
She dashed down the hall to his office and reached for the phone. “Good morning! Castle Falls Outfitters.”
“Who is this?” The question wielded a suspicious edge, as if the caller knew someone else should have answered the phone.
“Lily Michaels. I’m—”
“The painter Sunni hired to give her house a makeover! She told us all about it the book club meeting last week.” The caller’s tone warmed several degrees. “She didn’t mention you’d be helping Brendan out in the office, too.”
“I’m not.” Lily wondered what the woman would say if she confessed the man had banished her from that particular room. “Brendan had to step out for a few minutes, but I’d be happy to take a message.”
“I’d appreciate that! This is Jill Robinson, and I’m calling to remind Brendan about the picnic the soccer team is hosting on Tuesday.”
Lily reached for a pen to jot down the details. “Soccer picnic. Tuesday.”
“This is the first year the kids at New Life Fellowship formed a team,” Jill chatted on. “The booster club parents host a picnic at the beginning of the season to thank the businesses that provide funding for our equipment and uniforms. Brendan agreed to sponsor the Conquerors.”
“That’s great.” So great that Lily might be forced to reevaluate her first impression of the man. “What time?”
“Four o’clock in the field right behind the church.” Jill paused. “By the way, our Sunday morning worship service starts at ten if you’re interested in attending tomorrow.”
“I’d love to.” Lily meant it. Church attendance was one of the things she’d added during the recent but major restructure of her life.
“My husband and I will be manning the coffee station in the foyer, so be sure to stop by and say hello.”
“I will. And I’ll pass this information onto Brendan as soon as he gets back,” Lily promised. “He was looking forward to your call.”
“He…” Jill had a sudden coughing fit. “Really?”
“Of course.” Lily drew a smiley face next to the information, ridiculously pleased to discover that Brendan did occasionally venture out of his office.
“I can’t wait to meet you, Lily.” Jill chuckled. “You certainly seem up for a challenge.”
“It’s not so bad.” Lily eyed the algae-green walls. “All the place needs is a little updating.”
“Oh, I wasn’t talking about the house, honey.”
Lily was still pondering what Jill could have meant when she hung up the phone.
* * *
Brendan strode up the sidewalk, one hour and thirty-eight minutes later than he’d planned.
The trucking company had no business hiring people who didn’t have a clue how to change a flat tire. But then again, the guy he’d found sprawled on the hood, tethered to his iPod by a bright orange cord dangling from one ear, didn’t even look old enough to hold a valid driver’s license. Brendan had ended up changing the tire and unloading the cargo into his own vehicle.
Just to make sure it didn’t end up somewhere in Canada.
The house was eerily quiet when he opened the front door.
No humming. No whistling. Lily must have taken his polite request for peace and quiet to heart.
It was bad enough the lower half of the house now resembled the paint aisle of a home-improvement store, but on his way to check something in the shop earlier that morning, Brendan happened to glance into the living room. Lily had been stretched out on the rug in front of the fireplace, reading the label on a plastic tub with the intensity of a law student studying to pass the bar exam. Missy was sprawled across her legs, her whiskered chin resting on Lily’s knee.
Two thoughts had collided in Brendan’s mind. Lily looked as if she belonged there. And, for the first time, he’d wished he could trade places with a dog.
Halfway to his office, the tantalizing aroma of cinnamon beckoned to him from the kitchen. Brendan took a deep breath, determined to forge ahead…
“Hi.” Lily landed in front of him, looking like a sunbeam in the yellow apron he’d bought for Sunni one Christmas.
Bare toes, each one painted a bright shade of coral, peeked out from the rolled up hems of Lily’s faded jeans. “I was starting to get a little worried.”
Brendan was getting a little worried, too. Worried that it didn’t matter if Lily sang along with the oldies on his mother’s ancient am/fm radio. Or kept up a lively dialogue with Missy.
Her very presence in the house had somehow changed things.
“The driver didn’t know how to change a flat.” Brendan noticed a smudge of grease on the back of his hand and took a quick detour over to the sink. “You didn’t happen to hear the phone ring, did you?”
“Yes…and I also happened to answer it.” Lily fished a piece of paper from the pocket of Sunni’s apron, embroidered with the words Hug the Cook. Somehow, the words took on a whole new meaning.
Don’t. Go. There.
Brendan plucked the paper from Lily’s hand and glanced at the name scrawled at the top. “Jill?”
“Robinson.” Lily grabbed a potholder and opened the oven door a crack. A burst of steam rolled out, carrying the scent of apples. “One of the parents in the booster club.”
“What booster club?”
“For your soccer team.”
“I don’t have a soccer team.”
“New