They could hear Cassandra and the boys yelling and laughing as they left.
“Are they really arguing?” Bree asked.
Mrs. Dempsey rolled her eyes. “Cassandra is the baby. She likes to stir up trouble when both her brothers are here. Do you have siblings?”
“No, it was just me.” She’d barely even had a mom growing up.
Mrs. Dempsey began cutting the pie. “My son doesn’t bring someone home for a family dinner lightly. He’s quite smitten with you.”
“I...I...” Some days Bree wasn’t sure he was. For the past days, even though she’d lived in the same house as him, he’d seemed to keep himself so distant. Not like he resented having her there, but like she was a guest who he liked but wanted to keep a respectful distance from.
But then today...that kiss against the wall. There had been nothing like that all the other days. Nothing likethat, ever. Where he’d kissed her like he was about to lose control.
And she’d loved it. She could still feel the ghost of his fingers on her outer thigh.
But was Tannersmittenwith her, like his mother suggested? “I don’t know. Sometimes, I just don’t know.”
Mrs. Dempsey looked up from the pie and studied Bree. “Tanner has his own demons—pretty significant ones—and his own way of handling them.”
“He does?” He was so laid-back and friendly. He seemed so likable and approachable. It had never really occurred to her that he might have demons like her.
“He doesn’t talk to you about stuff?”
Bree shook her head. “Some. But no, not stuff like that.”
Mrs. Dempsey’s tone hadn’t been judgmental in any way, but the words themselves made Bree recognize once again that maybe she wasn’t meeting Tanner’s needs. Maybe that was why they still hadn’t slept together.
Mrs. Dempsey reached over and squeezed Bree’s arm. “He’s protective of you. I can’t blame him—you’ve got something special that makes him want to take care of you. To fight all your battles for you. Tanner’s dad felt that way about me.”
Mrs. Dempsey didn’t look like someone who needed protecting. She looked like she could fight her own battles.
“Of course, I had to set Clifford straight pretty early on in our relationship. Because it was never going to be enough for me—or for him—to let him wrap me in cotton wool. It is enough for some women and some relationships, but it wasn’t what either Clifford or I needed. Is it what you need, Bree?”
Bree’s answer was immediate. “No. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time. Probably longer than I should’ve. I’m strong.”
Mrs. Dempsey smiled at her. “I believe that. You’ve definitely got a core of steel. You’re probably going to need to convince Tanner that you’re strong enough to be what he needs, though.”
What did Tanner need? Bree wasn’t sure. She might’ve asked Mrs. Dempsey if shouting hadn’t started from the dining room.
“We want pie! We want pie!”
Mrs. Dempsey sighed and grinned. “Looks like the natives are getting restless. Shall we?”
All of the Dempsey siblings began eyeing the pie in Mrs. Dempsey’s hand as soon as she walked in the room.
“Hey, Mom,” Tanner said, innocence all but dripping from his voice. “Is there any pie left in the box, you know, for after we’re done? Asking for a friend.”
Mrs. Dempsey’s eyes narrowed. “If I say yes, are you going to forget every manner I ever taught you?”
“No, ma’am,” all three Dempsey siblings and Graham responded at the same time.
She just rolled her eyes. “Then yes, there’s one piece left.”
Bree’s jaw dropped as Tanner, Noah and Graham accepted their pie and began scarfing it down. She glanced over at Cassandra, but she was eating hers at a more humanlike rate. She shrugged. “I gave up my horse in this race when I got married. I might’ve been able to outeat one of my brothers, but there was no way to beat them and Graham. Although sometimes if I promise hubby here sexual favors he’ll give me some of the pieif he wins.” She wagged her eyebrows. Graham gave her a thumbs-up with one hand and kept piling in pie with the other.
Bree just smiled, watching the eating with wonder. “Tanner tried to explain the whole pie thing to me once. But really you have to see it in person to truly understand.”
As soon as the men finished their pie—within seconds of each other—they made comically polite excuses before rushing toward the kitchen. This entire process was obviously a time-honored tradition.
