Page 97 of Shelter from the Storm

She should probably be annoyed by his highhandedness, but it felt too good to have her big brother back, watching out for her. And, to be honest, she didn’t blame him for not trusting her words. She’d lied to him about Briggs for years.

“I understand.” She gripped his forearm. “Shaw, I promise I’ll never lie to you again. About anything.”

He tapped his knuckles under her chin. “I’ll take that promise. And I’m going to hold you to it.”

“Where are you staying?”

“Nowhere yet. My flight landed a couple hours ago. I rented a car and drove straight here from Dulles. Figured I’d grab some dinner, then find a hotel. Didn’t realize this town was as big as a postage stamp. Is there even a hotel around here?”

Gretchen grabbed his hand. “You can stay with me at Edith’s.”

“Who’s Edith?”

“Technically she’s my landlady, but in reality, she’s my roomie and bestie. She has plenty of rooms, and I know she’d love to meet you.”

“If you’re sure,” he hesitated.

“I’m a million percent sure.”

“Good.” Shaw wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they walked toward the bar. “Now that I’ve got you back, I’m not in a hurry to let you out of my sight. I was hoping this place served food,” he said, gesturing at Whiskey Abbey.

“Best wings ever.”

Shaw laughed, then placed a kiss on the top of her head.

Just when Gretchen thought life couldn’t get any better.

In one night, she not only had her big brother with her but realized she really did have four true, amazing friends, who would always have her back.

It was all wonderful and perfect…and it was all she could do not to reach for her phone to call Theo.

Because the only thing that would make this night better was if he was here too.

Chapter Seventeen

Theo walked out onto the front porch when he saw Edith’s car coming down the lane to his parents’ house. The B&B was closed for the holiday, so the entire family would be dining together at his childhood home, just like they had every year since he was born.

Even when Uncle Ronnie and Aunt Diana had been alive, they’d gathered in this house, where Mom and Grandma Sheila—and Mila, when she was old enough—started cooking the feast at dawn. He could remember waking up those mornings not to an alarm but to the sound of their laughter coming from the kitchen and the smell of apple pie and coffee and bacon drifting through the house.

The holidays were Theo’s favorite time of year, but this time around, they felt even more special. Because he would be spending them with Gretchen.

Manny, who was driving Edith’s car, parked it, and all four doors of the Cadillac she’d owned for well over a decade opened.

Theo held his breath, waiting to see Gretchen’s face. Mila told him that Shaw had shown up at Whiskey Abbey last night, and as far as his cousin could tell, the reunion had gone well. He prayed that was true, prayed her brother hadn’t upset her or made her feel guilty about their estrangement. He’d really wanted to be with her when her brother arrived…just in case.

Gretchen waved at him the moment she emerged from the car, her smile brighter than he’d ever seen it. She waited until the tall man who’d climbed out from the other side joined her.

There was no question Gretchen and Shaw were related, their faces the same shape, with matching cuts of their jaws and brows. Even from the porch, he could see they shared the same bright blue eyes. However, while Gretchen’s hair was blonde, her brother’s was much darker, cut in a short military style.

Edith reached Theo first, and he held out his hand, helping as she climbed the few stairs to the front porch. She squeezed it, piercing him with an approving look that confirmed conclusively that last night’s reunion was a success, and Edith was pleased with him for placing the call.

“Well done, Theodore,” she murmured, so only he could hear. “Well done.”

He gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Happy Thanksgiving, Edith. I’m glad you’re joining us for dinner. I’m sort of hoping…” He glanced over her shoulder at Manny, whose arms were laden with a large casserole dish.

“Yes, yes,” Edith replied, gesturing to the dish. “I made my sweet potato casserole.”

“With extra marshmallows?” Theo asked.

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