Page 81 of The Secret of Emerald Cottage

Chapter Forty-Four

“Mmm-mmm-mmm.” Miss Lilly stood sniffing the air at the front door after closing it with a firm click, returning from pinochle with a wide grin on her face. “What in sweet glory is that delicious smell?” she said as she turned to hang up her coat.

“Your delicious nurse and companion,” Brec whispered in Molly’s ear, taking advantage of the inroads he’d made after an afternoon of heart-and-soul connecting, some praying, and even a kiss or two. He hauled her into a tight hug and buried his lips in her neck while his aunt’s back was turned. Then grinned when Molly jerked away with a tiny squeak.

Right before Aunt Lilly headed for the kitchen.

“You’re home early,” Molly said with a nervous titter, cheeks pink as she hurried to pull plates from the cupboard to set the table.

Aunt Lilly’s gaze flicked to the clock and back, face in a scrunch as she washed her hands at the sink. “Actually, I’m running late, girly-girl, because it’s my night to cook dinner, but I see you couldn’t wait.” Drying her hands, she moseyed over to the stove to take a peek at Brec’s skillet, where one of her favorites of Brec’s dishes—and Molly’s—was simmering in wine. “No wonder the house smells like heaven—chicken Suisse!”

Lifting the lid on both the skillet on the back burner and then a pot with wild rice, she omitted a tiny moan that made Brec grin outright, reminding him of Molly after he’d first kissed her not one hour ago, when he’d finally convinced her to go out with him on a trial date. “And pears poached in red wine? Sweet glory, what are we celebratin’?” she asked with a chuckle, and Brec couldn’t help but shoot Molly a wink.

Hopefully winning the girl, he thought with a grin as he hooked an arm to his aunt’s waist. “Best decision of my life, of course, since today is the six-month anniversary of when I moved in.”

“It is?” Molly spun around, eyes wide as she clutched utensils and napkins with a repentant slope of brows. “Then I should be the one cooking, not you, since it’s your anniversary, Brec.”

Planting a kiss on Aunt Lilly’s head, Brec turned back to the stove to spoon more wine over the chicken, tossing a smirk over his shoulder. “Then it wouldn’t be much of a celebration, now would it, Princess, since I’m obviously the chef in the family.”

Family. Brec paused mid-baste, a warmth spiraling through him that had nothing to do with the heat of the stove. Because that was what Aunt Lilly and Molly were to him now—the only family that had ever made him want to stay.

Rather than run.

“Best decision of our lives, too, eh, girly-girl?” Aunt Lilly tapped him on the shoulder. “Bend down, sonny,” she said, promptly depositing a kiss to his cheek, “because I do believe these last six months have been some of the best eatin’ this old gal has ever had. As sure as ticks on a hound, both that girl there and I have become powerful attached to you, isn’t that so, Molly?”

Brec’s gaze snagged with Molly’s while she dipped Hawaiian roll halves into garlic butter as Brec had instructed, carefully laying them out on a cookie sheet. A pretty blush dusted her cheeks as she gave him a shy smile before quickly focusing on Aunt Lilly. “Hard not to be, Miss Lilly, the way the man cooks.”

“Well, then, what can I do to help?” Aunt Lilly rubbed her palms together as she looked around.

Brec nodded toward the fridge while he retrieved three hurricane glasses from the cabinet, promptly filling each with ice. “Once Molly finishes with the garlic bread, everything will be done, but you can pour us some Singapore Slings if you want.”

“Shore thing.” Aunt Lilly bustled over to pull a pitcher of his nonalcoholic slings from the fridge. “So, how was both of your days?” she asked as she filled the glasses.

“Uh, not real great.” Molly’s gaze, suddenly somber, collided with his own. “But at least it’s ending up better than it began.”

Face in a scrunch, Aunt Lilly carried two glasses to the island while Brec grabbed the other. “Sweet sufferin’ saints, what on earth does that mean?”

Carefully finishing up placement of a square of baby Swiss on top of each buttered roll half, Molly finally looked up at his aunt. With a near-silent sigh, she sat down on her barstool while Aunt Lilly did the same. “It means, Miss Lilly, that I was”—a lump bobbed in her throat while she fiddled with the stem of her glass—“attacked when I took cookies to Pete’s house this morning.”

“What?!” Jaw gaping, his aunt shot off the stool. “What do you mean, ‘attacked’?” She grabbed Molly’s arm. “Were you hurt? Are you all right?”

Molly patted his aunt’s hand with a shaky smile. “Yes, I’m fine, Miss Lilly, but I will admit it was pretty scary at first.” She proceeded to repeat the whole sordid story, and by the time she finished, it torched Brec’s temper all over again.

His aunt sat there in a near stupor, slumped on her stool while her drink remained untouched. “Both Sloan and Chase always said Pete’s nephew was nothing but trouble, but I had no idea how dangerous he was.” She glanced up, brows pinched in concern. “Have you heard back from Sloan?”

Molly nodded as she issued another quiet sigh. “Yes, he called shortly after he left here this morning, telling me he would update us on everything later tonight.

“Good. I shore hope they caught him.” Aunt Lilly’s weary sigh matched Molly’s to a breath.

“Me too,” Molly whispered, sagging back onto her stool as well.

Both women looked so forlorn that Brec stood and raised his glass. “Excuse me, ladies, but this is supposed to be a celebration, and since Molly wasn’t hurt, it definitely is, so let’s act like it, all right?”

Brec was grateful that in no time, he had both women laughing and swilling slings like they were born and raised in Singapore, following it all up with their favorite dinner and dessert that allowed them to, as Aunt Lilly so aptly put it, “focus on their blessings.”

By the time the dishes were done and put away, they were sipping coffee in the great room, all calm and content until Sloan knocked on the door. Brec knew the moment he saw Sloan’s stone face and Chase’s behind him, that their celebratory evening was over.

“Can we come in?” Sloan asked, and Brec gave him a stiff nod before greeting Chase with considerably more warmth, standing aside to let them both pass.