Page 36 of The Secret of Emerald Cottage

“Thank you,” she said in a tone that didn’t sound particularly thankful at all because frankly it made her crazy when he was so darn nice, making it all the more difficult not to be crazy about him. Doggone it—players had no right to be this sweet and kind, attentive to a fault like he was to both his aunt and her.

Did they?

She watched him over the rim of her cup while she sipped her coffee, fixing a cup for himself as he chattered on about lining the front walkway with boxwoods and mums. All at once, she felt ashamed because player or no—Brec McGill had made a huge difference in Miss Lilly’s life—and Molly’s—during a really difficult time.

Plopping a hefty scoop of ice cream on each piece of warm pie, he delivered both to the table with napkins and a crooked smile. “So I hate to tell you, Princess, but if sweet calories and sappy movies that have me stomping in my sleep cheer that woman up?” He strolled over to fetch his coffee before plopping into his chair with a grin. “I’m more than willing to comply.”

Fork in hand, she paused over her pie, heart softening all the more toward this notorious Romeo whether she liked it or not. “Just having you around cheers her up, Brec,” she said softly, “so I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done.”

He paused mid-bite with fork buried in his mouth, eyes intense despite the faint smile on his lips. He swallowed, voice suddenly husky as he aimed the fork at her. “Now, see? That’s where you’re wrong, Goldie, because you can thank me enough—by helping me brush up on my poker.”

Cheeks chunky with pie, it was her turn to pause, the ice cream sitting on her molars so long, it gave her the shivers along with his suggestion.

Sorry, Soccer Boy, but I think I’ll sit this one out.

Diving into another bite of pie, he assessed her while he slowly rolled the fork in his mouth, smart enough to realize she usually turned him down on activities that involved just the two of them. Be it poker, movies, walks around the lake, or just sitting on the deck listening to the trill of tree frogs and hooting of owls while the harvest moon shimmered over the water, if Miss Lilly or Cat weren’t along, it was no-go. She’d quickly learned her best defense against the powerful attraction growing between them was either an eighty-eight-year-old chaperone or a best friend who wanted to see her with Sloan.

“So, what do you, say, Mol, mmm?” he continued in a rush, obviously sensing her hesitation. “Because it’s only nine o’clock, so I can’t possibly turn in yet. At least, not with all that stomping going on in my brain”—he actually stomped his feet with a silly smile, eliciting one out of her as well— “and I doubt you can either. Besides”—that dimpled grin of his was downright criminal— “I’m already a third of the way through reading the Bible to her as it is, and now she’s threatening Pilgrim’s Progress, so I can’t afford to lose many more games.”

She couldn’t help it—she grinned, seeing his point completely. As the primary loser in most of their games, he couldn’t afford it and neither could she. Shaking her head, she avoided his eyes as she scooped up more pie. Because this “pilgrim” was already making way too much “progress” with her heart.

“So, what do you say, Princess?” He watched her over the rim of his cup, a hint of little-boy desperation peeking through.

Expelling a sigh of surrender, she met his gaze head-on. “On one condition, Striker Boy.” Taking her time to carve out another bite of her pie, she methodically rolled the fork in her mouth like he’d done with her, pinning him with a look that held a definite hint of warning. “After living in the same house with you for two months now, I have a pretty good read on the stateside Brec McGill, but I’m afraid it doesn’t jive with the Internet version. That said”—she laid her fork down to carefully fold her arms on the table, leaning in with a pointed gaze— “I want to hear the whole truth—the unabridged Irish version of Breccan McGill, mister,” she said with a firm arch of her brow, “and don’t leave anything out.”