Page 105 of Marrying the Nanny

Storm reached for his glass, and he decided he’d better nurse this one, not shoot it the way his brothers did theirs.

“He knew from listening as a boat came into the cove what was wrong with it,” Logan said. “He could tell you what part to get, knew the make and size without looking it up. A walking computer.”

“Phone numbers. Any numbers, he knew ’em by heart,” Trystan agreed.

“Had a head for figures, all right,” Reid said ironically.

His brothers laughed and so did he, but they all had tears in their eyes.

*

Emma had been feeling needy and obvious, then hurt and rebuffed. By the time she’d had to listen to the three of them complain about how much they hated it here, she had lost it.

You think any of that was on my Christmas wish list?

Her heart had fully broken at that point. She loved Reid. If he could hurt her like that, then it was real love. Indelible and irrevocable. And if their slights against Raven’s Cove cut her that deeply, it was because she loved this place as much as him and Storm.

She was starting to think she was delusional, pursuing dreams that simply weren’t realistic or meant to happen for her.

Sophie knew immediately that something was wrong when she turned up at her door. “Honeymoon over?”

“Reid still wants to leave, and I don’t want to,” she prevaricated.

“For God’s sake, why not? That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Sophie stayed for her grandfather. Art’s health wasn’t great, and he didn’t want to move to a bigger center where he could get assisted care. “Be honest. What’s the attraction?”

“You?” Emma suggested. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”

“You have lived a hard life, haven’t you?”

She put Biyen to bed and they settled in to binge Outlander while Art snored in his chair beside them. They didn’t talk much, but Emma wound up letting Sophie refill her glass twice too many times.

“I drank too much,” she told Reid when she called over to ask if he would pick her up. She was going to be hung over and already hated herself for it, but punishing herself was what this evening had kind of been about.

“Em, I’m sorry about earlier,” he said as he drove her home.

“Please don’t make me talk right now. I’m drunk. I’ll say something stupid.”

“Nothing you say is stupid.”

She didn’t know if he was talking about her snapping at his brothers or telling him she loved him. Either way, she ignored the opening he offered. It would end in a sloppy cry and hurt feelings and things said that should remain unsaid.

He parked and they went to bed where he drew her into the spoon of his body. It felt nice, but tears wet her clenched lashes.

She woke with a splitting headache and buckets of remorse. Why had she gone to the office yesterday? Why had she lost her temper and ruined her relationship with his brothers? Why had she got drunk on an empty stomach and refused to talk things out with Reid when he asked?

Maybe the reason her first marriage hadn’t worked had been her fault after all. She did all the wrong things and expected too much.

And this was another reason she preferred not to drink heavily. Her mornings after included depression and insecurity and negative self-talk. Ugh.

She went down to the kitchen where Trystan was making pancakes. The aromas of syrup and bacon curdled her stomach, making her whimper.

“We’re all hung over.” Trystan moved the bottle of ibuprofen into her reach. “Except Rider on the Storm over there.” He thumbed toward Reid, who was holding Storm and efficiently rinsing her bottle with his free hand.

Logan wore a frown of suffering as he poured a coffee. “No, this is for Em, not you,” he told Storm as she tried to launch herself at him. “All right. Come say good morning.” He scooped the baby from Reid and gave her a pained, rueful smile as she bounced in his arm and gave his nose a honk. “Yeah, this headache is self-induced so go ahead and make me suffer for my stupidity.”

He brought the cup to Emma, squinting at the light from the living room windows behind her.

“You can make me suffer, too,” he said to Emma. “You know we’re card-carrying asshats. We were letting off steam last night. Being here isn’t the issue. Losing Dad is.”

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