Page 57 of A Marriage Pact for the Cowboy

“Oh, no. Are you expecting my brother?” Bryce’s hand hovered above the tray as he looked at her with eyebrows raised.

“No. Paisley.”

“Oh, in that case…” He rolled his eyes and rose to his feet. “I never hang around where I’m not wanted. But, you know, when you get tired of stick-in-the-mud Maxie, you know where to find me. I’m the fun one.”

If Bryce awaited a reply, he wasn’t going to get one. Eryn remained standing beside the end table and stared at him, keeping her expression as impassive as humanly possible.

“Fine. I get it.” He backed away, both palms toward her. “You think that won’t happen, but it would take a miracle, you know. All he knows how to do is snap his fingers and make things happen. It gets old.” Bryce pivoted and strolled away, whistling.

Paisley jogged around the corner and dodged around Bryce before dropping into the seat he’d vacated. “What was that all about? Mmm, chocolate chip cookies. My favorite.”

“Bryce?” Eryn was trembling as she lowered herself into the other chair. “He was… flirting?” Guys didn’t flirt with her. And if this was what it was like, she hoped one never did again.

“The jerk can’t help it.” Paisley shook her head. “I’m glad you texted me. I needed a break in the worst way. What’s up?”

Eryn, you need a girlfriend. Just spit it out.

“It’s Maxwell’s birthday in a couple of weeks, and I don’t know what to do.”

Paisley’s face brightened. “Oh, girl, you have come to the right place.”

Chapter

Nineteen

Maxwell arrived in the dining hall minutes before the line closed. He’d meant to arrive sooner. Of course, he had. He had a girlfriend to eat meals with now, but Jordan had pulled him aside at the end of the workday to point out that the tiles for Cottage Three had come from two different dye lots and didn’t exactly match. By the time Maxwell had phoned the supplier and made arrangements for half a dozen boxes to be replaced, it was 5:55 instead of 5:15.

He scanned the dining hall as he stood behind Jordan, who was divvying the last of the baked beans onto two plates. His heart leaped when he saw Eryn and her dad sitting with Paisley and Weston. Oh, and Bryce. What was Bryce doing there? Up to no good, for sure.

After loading up his tray, Maxwell headed toward their table. There was no vacant spot beside Eryn, so he took the seat between Bryce and Weston. “Hey, sorry I’m late.”

“You’ll be late for your own funeral,” Bryce quipped. “Too busy working.” He finger-quoted that.

Slugging his brother would be super satisfying. Maxwell did his best to even his tone. “Hey, someone around here has to do their job.”

Bryce leaned back in his chair. “We all do our job. Even me, believe it or not.”

“Congratulations.” Maxwell ducked his head for a silent grace. Was it okay to ask God to shut his brother up along with being thankful for food? He’d take a chance on protocol.

“So, how was your day?” Maxwell glanced around the table before resting his gaze on Eryn.

“Not bad,” Bryce put in. “I planted ten pounds of crocus bulbs in that bed in the campground. Should be a nice pop of color come spring.”

“Good for you.” Maxwell shot an irritated look at his brother. “Eryn?”

She glanced between them, a slight frown marring her features. “Nadine is teaching me the ways of sourdough bread. I also baked cookies this morning.”

“Best chocolate chip cookies I’ve ever tasted,” Bryce said. “Did you get any, Maxie? Oh, wait. I bet you were too busy to come down for afternoon coffee.”

“It’s Nadine’s recipe,” Eryn said.

“She doesn’t have your touch.” Bryce smirked. “Truly amazing. Didn’t you think so, Paisley?”

“What I think is that you should shut your face.” Paisley glowered at him.

“Hear, hear,” Maxwell said under his breath.

“Stop mumbling, little brother. Didn’t Mom teach you to speak up? Wait, no. That was Dad. Take charge of your words, Maxie.”

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