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His mother glanced at him, her light blue eyes bright. “No.”
He arched an eyebrow.
“I don’t,” she argued. “Don’t you use that look on your mother.”
He smiled. “It normally gets me results.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Only if someone has something to hide. I don’t.”
He held up his hands. “Okay, fine.”
“She tell you what’s going on?” Spence arrived, carrying a bag of ice. “Whoa, the good china?”
Patton nodded. “Exactly.”
“You two knock it off.” Imogene Ryan shooed her sons out of the way and headed to the kitchen, still talking. “A woman has a right to make things pretty every once in a while—for no apparent reason. I’m not getting any younger, you know. I don’t see the harm in setting a nice table once a month instead of three times a year.”
“Who got her all worked up?” Spence asked softly.
Patton shrugged. “I just asked her if she knew what the news was—”
“And I don’t,” their mother called from the kitchen.
Spence laughed and Patton shook his head. She’d always had ridiculously good hearing. It had made sneaking out of the house almost impossible as teenagers. Almost.
“We’re here,” Zach’s voice came from the front door.
“We?” Spence asked.
Patton shrugged, following Spence into the front sitting room. Their mother brushed past them both, making Patton the last one into the room. His younger brother Zach was holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand and the hand of a very pretty young woman with the other.
“Mom, this is Bianca.” Zach was smiling. But it was the way he was smiling that drew Patton up short. His little brother was smiling like a kid in a candy shop with an unlimited budget. “Bianca, this is my mother, Imogene Ryan.”
Patton glanced at the young woman on his arm. His brother was clearly smitten, not that this was necessarily new. Zach was always getting a new girlfriend—his problem seemed to be keeping them. Then again, Zach had never brought one home before, so this would be interesting.
“Mrs. Ryan, it’s so lovely to meet you.” Bianca’s voice wavered—she was nervous.
“Oh, Bianca, please, call me Imogene.” His mother pulled Bianca into a hug. “Zach’s told me so much about you.”
Patton shot Spence a look. Spence shook his head, shrugging in answer. Apparently their mother was the only one who had heard about Bianca. Not that he and his brothers talked daily, but the family still had dinner together once a week. It seemed a little odd that Bianca had never come up in conversation.
“I figured it’s time for her to meet the family now that she’s agreed to marry me.” Zach’s voice was unsteady, his eyes bouncing between the three waiting members of his family.
Patton blew out a deep breath, stunned by the announcement.
Their mother was clapping her hands, hugging Bianca again then Zach. She chattered away, her excitement covering for his complete shock. Spence seemed to snap out of it, too. He exchanged an awkward handshake then a one-armed hug with Bianca before tackling Zach.
When both his mother and Bianca were staring at him, he pulled it together and stepped forward. “Nice to meet you,” he murmured, shaking her hand. “I’m Patton. And...welcome to the family.”
Bianca smiled, her tawny eyes wide. “You, too. I mean, it’s nice to meet you.”
“Let’s celebrate!” His mother was still on a visible high. “I made some fresh-squeezed lemonade and cookies—”
“I’ll get it,” Patton volunteered, heading into the kitchen.
A tray with the “fancy” crystal goblets and a plate of homemade wedding cookies waited. He eyed the cookies. His mother might not have known Zach had proposed, but she knew something was going on. Not that this surprised him. She normally knew what was happening before anyone else did. She was a born investigator and a master at deductive reasoning.
He shook his head and opened the refrigerator. His search for the pitcher of lemonade was derailed by a bottle full of olives. Green olives. An instant flash of Cady’s lips, her pearly white teeth tugging the skewered olive off the toothpick and into her mouth. He closed his eyes, his grip on the refrigerator door tightening. It wasn’t the first time in the last two weeks he’d been caught up in the memory of that night. Something about Cady had latched on to him tightly. It didn’t take much to stir the echo of her touch, the warmth of her body, the husky timbre of her sigh as if she was standing before him—staring at him with that saucy grin of hers.
