Page 84 of The Secret of Emerald Cottage

“It’s not just you.” Miss Lilly gathered cups along with Brec, the two of them toting them into the kitchen. “Their relationship has had its highs and lows since they first started dating, I’m afraid, and it hasn’t improved over the years, at least according to Muriel.”

“And why is that exactly?” Brec asked, proceeding to put the dirty dishes into the dishwasher.

Miss Lilly paused while crimping foil over the remains of a pie she had made for the luncheon. “I think it’s because her parents were dead-set on her marrying Alan from little on, making it more of a demand for Marla than a choice. Alan’s parents and Marla’s ran in the same social circles, you see, Savannah’s upper crust, so to speak. So although she and Alan were always an item, I don’t think he would have been her first choice.”

Molly glanced up from wiping down the island. “You think Greg was her first choice?”

A heavy sigh parted from Miss Lilly’s lips. “I always wondered because she and Greg were always so close throughout school, even when the Lads convened at the Lake and she came along. Everybody claimed they were just friends, but I always sensed a wistfulness about Marla when it came to her friendship with Greg. They claimed to be best friends, but I couldn’t help but wonder if it was more.”

Brec grunted while snitching a snickerdoodle from Miss Lilly’s famous pig cookie jar. “I doubt Alan would have ever let that happen.” He strolled over to slide onto a stool while he munched on the cookie. “He strikes me as a control freak who likes to have things his way.”

“True enough,” Miss Lilly said with a tired nod, “but I blame that on his hoity-toity parents spoilin’ him rotten, I’m afraid.” She shuffled over to fill the kettle with water and put it on the stove. “I’m gonna park these old bones at the table and have a cup of tea. Anybody else?”

Molly groaned, suddenly realizing how tired she was. “Oh, that sounds wonderful because I’m dragging too.”

Popping the rest of the cookie in his mouth, Brec shot up from his stool and waved Molly and his aunt over to the dining-room table. “This sounds like a job for my famous stress-relief tea, ladies, does it not?”

“Oh, that sounds heavenly,” Molly said with another groan, almost salivating at the thought of Brec’s homemade herbal tea with lemon balm, chamomile, lavender, and other medicinal herbs. “Throw in a foot and back rub, and I’m all yours.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, lass.” Brec grinned as he shooed them toward the table. “I just mixed a fresh batch of herbs yesterday, so your wish is my command.”

Molly slid into the chair at the table with a lopsided grin. “Uh, if my wish were your command, I’d be the one sleeping till ten tomorrow while you did the laundry.”

His husky chuckle fluttered her stomach, something that was becoming all-too-common of late. And annoying. Because as deep as her feelings for Brec were becoming, she wanted to make darn sure his recent pursuit of faith was the real deal and not just because of her.

Like Tyler.

Thinking of Tyler brought a scowl to Molly’s lips that immediately fell away when Brec grinned over his shoulder. “Me? Laundry?” He shot her a wink. “Now, we both know that’s not going to happen, Princess, don’t we?”

Yes we do, Molly thought with a wry smile, shaking her head over Brec’s propensity to sleep in unless he had an errand or appointment that day. Something totally foreign to her since she was a morning person and he definitely was not. She liked to rise along with the sun, her penchant for sunny smiles and early-morning chit-chat in perfect harmony with the daylight streaming through her window and the incessant chatter of the birds. She battled a grin as she watched him brew her tea, well aware that her perkiness sometimes annoyed Brec to no end whenever he had to get up early.

Knock, knock.

Brec glanced toward the front room along with Molly and Miss Lilly, pausing to wipe his hands on a dishtowel before answering the door. “You expecting anybody, Aunt Lilly?”

“Don’t move!” Molly ordered as she bounded up from the table, just the thought of Brec’s lemon tea infusing her with energy. “I’ll get it because Miss Lilly’s and my tea is way too important, Soccer Boy.”

Molly put her ear to the front door. “Who is it?” she called, honoring one of Brec’s mandates that she not open the door until she knew who it was.

“It’s Sloan,” the call came back, and Molly glanced over her shoulder to see a scowl on Brec’s face.

“Peephole goes in first thing tomorrow morning,” he muttered, pouring hot water into each of three cups.

Chuckling, Molly opened the door with a smile that instantly dimmed when she saw the somber look on Sloan’s face. “What’s wrong?” she asked with a grimace.

A ghost of a smile flickered on his lips as he nodded inside. “Can I come in?”

“Oh, yes, I’m so sorry!” Dragging him in, she closed the door with a frown. “What’s wrong?”

Slipping out of his coat, he hung it on a hook by the door, gaze flicking to where Brec was banging around in the kitchen before it resettled on her. His “Molly smile,” as Brec liked to call it, emerged once again. “Hello to you too,” he said quietly, his smile inching up a hair.

Her cheeks warmed as she peered up at him. “Sorry, Sloan, but you have to admit it’s a little alarming whenever you show up without notice”—she absently buffed her arms—“especially lately.”

“I know, and I’m sorry about that, Molly.” His smile waned as he raked a hand through his hair. “Believe me, bad news is not the image I want you to have of me, but sometimes it can’t be helped”—his mouth compressed into his professional mode— “especially lately.”

“You want some of Brec’s famous stress-relief tea?” she asked, ignoring Brec’s cool stare as she hauled Sloan to the table.

“Depends”—one edge of his lip curled as he gave Brec a curt nod—“will mine have different ingredients than yours?”