Page 13 of The Pilot

She needed a new vehicle, but for now it was holding on, thank goodness. She had a ton of dings in the frame, from other cars bumping into it, and from the weather and general wear and tear. But the engine was in good shape.

She pulled into the garage and climbed out of the minivan. She collected the three bags of things she’d picked up after her shift was over and headed for the house.

Surprisingly, her exhaustion seemed to lift the closer she got to the front door. Seeing Kash always had that effect on her, but she was also very aware that she felt a kind of . . . anticipation at seeing Linc as well.

Harper was too exhausted to analyze the complicated feelings she had toward the oldest Young brother. Of which there were many.

She’d always been a little intimidated by him when they were kids, because he was so smart, and he was even more intimidating now, as an adult. There was plenty of shame and guilt on her part, for how poorly she’d treated him. Pride for the man who’d served his country and become a hero. More than a little envy over his relationship with his mom and brothers. And a bit of wistfulness because he always seemed to have his shit together.

On top of all that, he’d obviously done well for himself over the years, enough that he was able to buy this house on the coast. Sure, it needed work, but it couldn’t have been cheap. No houses with waterfront views were.

But under all those feelings was that little hum of attraction. Linc was a seriously good-looking man. He’d certainly filled out since his high school years, when she and her friends had teased him about being a scrawny beanpole. It wouldn’t be a hardship to see a man like him every morning and night.

“Mom!” Kash called out the second she opened the front door. “Hurry up! Linc and me made dinner!”

“Linc and I,” Harper corrected, as she walked into the house.

Linc hadn’t lied. The place needed a lot of work. Under the smell of garlic, there was a hint of must in the air, as if it had been closed up for years and years. The floors needed replacing, there was new drywall that hadn’t been painted yet, and the kitchen looked like it had been installed in the 1950s or so.

But the bones of the place were amazing. Harper took it all in, tilting her head back to look at the tall ceilings, what she thought was original woodwork around the doorframes, and the centerpiece of the room—the wide curved staircase.

“Wow,” she whispered, impressed.

“That’s one of the reasons I bought this place,” Linc told her as he reached for the bags in her hand. “I told you that you didn’t need to get any food,” he said next, sounding grumpy.

Harper ignored him, but she did let him take the bags from her. “What were the other reasons?” she asked.

“Huh?” Linc asked, frowning.

“You said the staircase was one of the reasons you bought this place. What were the others?”

“Oh. There aren’t any neighbors within a mile, the cove is far enough from Rockville that it doesn’t get a lot of traffic, and . . .” He gestured toward the windows in the main living area with a small smile. “It’s dark now, but when the sun comes up, you’ll see why I didn’t hesitate to plunk down an obscene amount of money for such a run-down place.”

Harper could imagine. She’d dreamed of owning a place like this once. Now? She’d be content with a tiny little house in the middle of town. As long as it was her own, she’d love it.

“Mooooom, you can look at the house later. Come see what Linc and I made for dinner! He let me do most of it too! Look! Homemade pizza!”

Harper blinked. She’d kind of expected something like frozen chicken pot pies and green bean casserole. But pizza? It was such a bachelor thing to make.

As if he could hear her thoughts, Linc leaned over and whispered, “For the record, I’m no chef, but I can cook more than pizza.”

Worried he thought she was disappointed or upset with the dinner menu, Harper said quickly, “I love pizza. For a while, that’s all Kash and I ate. But I’m sure this is way better.”

Linc frowned.

Shoot, she was messing this up already. Harper felt tongue tied around this man. Unsure of what she should and shouldn’t say.

Kash rescued her from saying something else that might irritate Linc by grabbing her hand and dragging her to the small table next to the kitchen. It was old as well, a little wobbly, the top scarred and watermarked.

“I set the table,” Kash informed her. He was practically glowing, and it was such a change from the reticent boy he’d been recently that Harper didn’t care if the pizza was terrible, she’d eat every bite with a smile on her face if only to make her son happy.

“Cloth napkins and everything!” Kash said. Then he whirled around and hurried into the kitchen. “Linc says he doesn’t have fancy plates, but I think the ones he has are super fancy,” he continued, as he used his fingers to put a piece of pizza on a plate.

“Tongs, Bud,” Linc drawled. “Touching food isn’t polite.”

“But I touched it while I was making it,” Kash said with a confused frown.

Harper hid her smile. She’d been in Linc’s shoes many, many times over the years. Informing her son of something that was socially acceptable, only to have him turn around and make a perfectly valid point that contradicted what she’d just told him.