Page 29 of The Grumpy Side of Paradise

I chew on my bottom lip. He’s answered my question, but now I have so many more. “I may be prying here, but I gather Adam doesn’t see things the same way.”

Zach lets out a short laugh. “You’ve picked up on that already?”

“It’s hard not to. I’m guessing that’s also the reason you two don’t get along.”

Zach’s smile drops, and I worry I’ve dug too deep into his personal life. But then his smile returns to chase away the flicker of sadness I caught in his eyes. “That’s one reason, but not all of them. I made some mistakes, but Adam has a bad habit of pushing people away when he needs them most. He likes to work through things on his own. So I’ll hang out here in the shadows until he’s ready to let me back in.”

I have to admire Zach for putting in that kind of effort. My dad’s never really worked to repair the mistakes he’s made or heal our relationship. “Is that why you’re here today? Time with your brother?”

He touches his nose, then points at me. “You’re sharp. There’s not a lot that gets past you, is there?”

I shake my head. “Including the fact that I may play mediator between you two today.”

There’s a knock at the door, and I push myself from the chair.

“He behaves better around people he doesn’t know well.” Zach stands and follows me to the door. Because of course it’s Adam there. Which means I can’t say anything about how if what I’ve seen so far is supposed to be good, I’d hate to see Adam behaving badly.

Truth is, I’ve got a feeling I’m about to see hisrealbad behavior.

As soon as I open the door and Adam’s gaze goes from my face to his brother’s, his entire face turns to stone. Not that there’s ever a lot of warmth there, but the transformation is stunning. It’s like looking into the face of Michelangelo’s David as it changes into a weathered gargoyle that’s lost all of its expression.

“Hi Adam.” I open the door wider to let him in.

“Hey, bro,” Zach says.

Adam responds by jutting out his arms to hand me a pair of boots and a parka. “Here. I’ll wait in the truck.”

He turns and is down the stairs and out the main door before I can close mine.

Zach lets out a sigh. “I’m sorry I’ve put you in the middle of this.”

He leaves with the same speed that Adam did, brushing by me to follow his brother. I make my way downstairs with a lot less speed than the feuding Thomsen twins did. After I shove my feet into the boots, I glance out the window at the side of the main door to make sure they aren’t in the middle of a yelling match or, worse, a fistfight.

Adam is in his truck by himself, so no fistfight. Yet. Zach pulls on the handle of the passenger side door, but it doesn’t open. Adam has locked him out.

So this should be a super fun day.

I weigh my need for antlers against my dislike of drama, but antlers come out on top. Probably because my aversion to boredom is highest on my list of personality traits that lead to bad decisions. I’ve spent most of the past week in this house, working on designs. If I thought there was anything else to do in Paradise other than go hunting for antlers with two brothers who hate each other, I’d do it in a second.

There’s not.

At least they’re not carrying.

I don’t think they are, anyway. But I don’t even know if it’s hunting season or not. Maybe they’re the kind of guys who keep gun racks in their trucks, so they’re always carrying.

I look out the window again. Zach is in the truck now. So, progress. His mouth moves, but Adam stares straight ahead like his brother isn’t there. I don’t see a gun rack, but that doesn’t mean there’s no potential for this day to turn bloody. And I’d definitely prefer a boring day over a bloody one.

Then Rosie barks, and I decide I’ll take my chances. If I have to listen to her all day, things may get bloody here.

“Shut. Up. Dog,” I say loudly. Not loud enough for the dog to hear—like that would make any difference. I feel better though. I can’t remember the last time I told someone—or thing—to shut up. Maybe never. It’s not polite, but… maybe… sometimes necessary?

I lace up the boots Adam loaned me, pleasantly surprised that they fit. The parka too. Whatever his beef with his brother is, he was really thoughtful about finding winter gear for me.

I have a knit hat, which I pull on, and mittens that I shove in the coat pocket. I’m sure I’ll need them later. Then I head to the truck. Zach’s in the front seat next to his brother, his arm slung over that seat like it was on my couch. His mouth stops moving and pulls into an annoyed smirk. Adam stares ahead.

“Oh boy,” I mutter. The words come back to me in an icy breath of air that disappears when I walk through it.

But now it’s time to bring some sunshine into the dark cloud inside Adam’s truck. I put on a smile as Zach opens the door and climbs out.

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