Page 50 of Clearly Charmed

I pulled back. There was no way this cynical journalist believed any of what he was saying. Words of protest started to form on my lips when my phone buzzed on the dash. I grabbed it and glanced at the screen. ‘Lia’s on her way with a spare tire.’

‘Too bad,’ he said, placing a soft kiss on my forehead. His gentleness sent another shiver through me. What we’d just done was incredible, and I didn’t regret it for a second, but I had to fix my clothes, school my face, before my sister arrived.

‘I’m looking forward to dinner tomorrow night,’ he said, tugging his shirt back over his head.

Shit. I’d forgotten about dinner with Clo. I was already hiding so much from my family, and now I had to pretend Bryce meant nothing to me. Which was going to be nearly impossible, considering my emotional connection to my sisters, and the fact that they’d be watching us like damn hawks the entire time.

Chapter Sixteen

Stick to the Plan

Clo was roasting a damn turkey.

I couldn’t believe it.

Even at Thanksgiving, she complained about how long it took to cook a fifteen-pound bird. How all the time required to season and baste it was a pain in the ass. But here she was, shuffling around the kitchen, her snow-white hair curling up around her ears while she made a feast fit for a king.

Aster scurried around the table setting out the good china. Lia sat like a lump in our grandfather’s favorite armchair, watching the entire spectacle with a grim expression. Flora’s gentle doggy snore sounded from the corner. Her legs twitched like she was chasing rabbits in her sleep. At least someone was calm and relaxed.

Last night I tossed and turned, unable to banish the image of Bryce’s tender gaze as he laid me across the seat. Worked me to a delicious high with his mouth. How I’d bolted away from him the second the lights from Lia’s Jeepster flashed across the windshield. The excuses I’d made about how I needed to get back to the clinic, nearly pushing him out of the truck as I dropped him back in town.

I couldn’t shake the worry that tonight was going to be a disaster. My sisters could easily read my feelings, and I wasn’t sure how I was going to get through this dinner without spiraling out.

‘Clo, why are you doing this? I don’t think Bryce is expecting this kind of meal,’ I said, frantically stirring the gravy bubbling in the saucepan.

‘Don’t you know anything about The Art of War?’ She moved around frantically, stacking dishes and wiping off the butcher block island. This kitchen was her pride and joy. Grandpa Beau thought of every detail when he’d designed it. A wide farmhouse sink was perfect for washing the plentiful crops from her garden. He’d torn out the old and weathered tile countertops and put in a soft white granite. Replaced the ancient double oven and stovetop with state-of-the art appliances. I often caught her in quiet moments, running her hand over the counters like she could still feel his presence here.

‘Knowing yourself and your enemy is the key to winning,’ she said, scrubbing several knives and setting them in the sink.

‘And you think part of Sun Tzu’s master plan was to fill an enemy to the gills with turkey, mashed potatoes and homemade peach cobbler?’ I said, batting away the thought that what we’d done in my truck was the absolute opposite of war.

‘Of course! Once Bryce is good and stuffed, he’ll be less on his guard. The tryptophan from the turkey will mellow him out. Lull his senses.’

‘So you want him to pass out?’ Aster leaned a hip against the counter, her gaze narrowing on me like she could hear the racing of my heart. Shit. This was going to be bad.

‘No, silly girl!’ Clo shot back. ‘I want him comfortable. It’s easier to extract information that way.’

‘Were you a covert CIA agent at one time? Because the way you’re talking it seems like it,’ Lia called from across the room.

‘I’m not being covert. I’m being protective. This man wants to write about our town. Our personal history. We need to be on guard, cautious about what we say to him, but we also need to find out his plan for the story. How he might try to twist facts as journalists tend to do.’

I shook my head and went back to stirring. In the short time I’d known Bryce, I’d figured out that he was good at reading people and situations. I had no doubt he knew exactly what he was walking into tonight.

The brown gravy with hints of rosemary bubbled in the pot. The dining area was filled with Aster’s sweet hum as she straightened out the white linen tablecloth until Lia stiffened in the chair. ‘His car is coming up the driveway. He’s five minutes early.’

‘That’s fine, because we’re ready,’ Clo said, wiping her hands on the edges of her starched cream apron. ‘Lia, start filling the water glasses. Aster, you open the wine.’ She pointed to a bottle sitting near the edge of the counter.

My sisters did as they were told, and I continued to monitor the gravy. Once I was sure it was the right consistency, I turned off the burner. A few seconds later there was a sharp knock at the door.

Lia glared at me. ‘Someone has to move and answer it.’

‘Fine, but you get over here and stir,’ I ordered.

I jogged to the stairs and Flora was quickly beside me. Once we were at the bottom, I hesitated in front of the door. Smoothed down the light curls that hung past my shoulders. Pressed at the collar of my soft blue T-shirt dress. I pulled in a breath and ran my hand over my lips. The sticky hint of deep pink gloss covered two of my fingers.

Did I look like I’d dressed up for him? Thinking it was too much, I dragged the back of my wrist across my mouth, blotting out the color.

Another knock made me jump. I straightened my shoulders and yanked open the door. Bryce stood in the threshold, and I had to swallow my damn tongue. His hair was neatly combed back from his face. A cornflower-blue polo brought out the color of his eyes. Pink dahlias surrounded by a handful of lavender and baby’s breath sat in a short square glass vase in his hand. That buzzy feeling warmed my chest again. I let myself relax into it until Flora barked out her own greeting.