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“I’ll come too.” Landon smirks. “Truth be told, I like her better than you, and I could go for some spam musubi.”
I laugh while they both sigh at the memory of the Hawaiian dish. There’s a lot more I miss about Malia than her cooking skills, but it’s not as easy as finding her and begging her to take me back. “She’s dating some Hollywood pretty boy. Trey Wentworth. What kind of name is that anyway? Sounds like a snobby clothing line, like Ralph Lauren.” I shake my head. “I’m sure she doesn't even remember my name anymore. And if she did, she wouldn’t welcome hearing from me again, not after the way I broke things off back when we were teenagers.”
Dillon wrinkles his nose. “Trey Wentworth is like the kind of name you imagine on a total douche bag who sips martinis at the polo club. That’s the type that would have been at Coyote Glen if Kitty’s family’d had their way.”
We all cringe at the thought.
“The kind of guy who would never get his perfectly-manicured hands dirty doing ranch work,” I say. “The kind of man who’s the opposite of me.” What I had with Malia was a once-in-a-lifetime love, and I screwed it up. Everyone knows lighting doesn’t strike twice.
Dillon shrugs. “Look, all I’m saying is start putting yourself out there. Not only would finding a wife solve your Brittany problem, but it’d be good for Audrey too. She needs a mother in her life.”
“Would you go
on a date or two if we found some eligible women?” Landon asks.
“I can think of at least two possibilities off the top of my head,” Dillon says.
The last thing I want is to start dating women my brothers pick out for me, but maybe they’re right. I might not find another Malia, but perhaps I could find a wonderful mother for Audrey that I could learn to love. Both Landon and Dillon watch me expectantly. “Yeah, okay, why not.”
Landon slaps me on the back. “Atta boy. ‘Bout time you got back on that horse again.”
“This is going to be fun,” Dillon says with a sneaky smirk that has me feeling uneasy.
“I have to see pictures first,” I say.
“That’s kind of shallow,” Dillon says.
I narrow my eyes at him. “That means there’s something wrong with your girl. Let me guess, she has a great personality?”
Dillon looks offended. “There’s nothing wrong with a great personality.”
“Look, I’m not expecting a model or anything, but there has to be some attraction. And I do remember the last time you tried to set me up.”
Landon laughs at the memory. “Oh yeah, I remember Janice.”
He throws up his hands. “Oh, come on. Janice was a very nice woman, and she was pretty.”
I laugh. “Dude, she was old enough to be our mom.”
Landon nods in agreement, and Dillon shakes his head. “No way. She would have had to have had us at fourteen.”
I raise my brows and open my palms, as if to say he just proved my point. “I’m not into the cougar thing.”
“Yeah, okay.” Dillon agrees. “No cougars.”
And yet, I still have the feeling that I’m going to regret agreeing to this.
Chapter Four
MALIA
Two days later, I’m driving my Audi down Highway 80 into the small town of Bisbee, Arizona, wondering if I bit off more than I can chew. I look out the window at the little town nestled in the middle of the red-dirt Mule Mountains. Houses and buildings are built right into the sides of the steep hills in an almost haphazard fashion. The streets have no rhyme or reason to them. They climb up the mountains in twists and turns like the branches of a tree, some dead-ending into walkways with no warning.
I used to love the enchanted chaos of it, with its eclectic free-spirited vibe. Now all I see are too many memories that leave a painful ache. Avoiding those memories became a security blanket, and now I’m throwing that blanket off, exposing myself to naked vulnerability.
I squeeze the steering wheel to keep from making a U-turn and remind myself that I can do this. I’m a grown, successful woman. What happened eight years ago doesn’t matter now. I’m here to spend time with my family and perhaps get some much-needed closure. But not today. Today will just be family time. Besides, Ala says she wants to have a talk with me about my ex-boyfriend before I confront him. She won’t go into detail. She only says it’s important, and we’ll discuss it in person.
I turn and drive up the precarious road to Ala and Ben’s house. At parts on the winding road, my small SUV barely fits, let alone allows room for another vehicle. Luckily, no other cars come from the opposite direction. I pull into the small driveway and look up at the long staircase shared by two houses.
