Page 242 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
This is so great. Exactly what my heart needs.
“Trust me, ifIasked,” Olivia continues, “he’d laugh in my face. Or agree and then make me a liverwurst sandwich.”
“Who’s making liverwurst sandwiches?” Lennox says from behind us.
Olivia turns and looks over her shoulder, but I intentionally keep my eyes forward. I wasn’t expecting to see him, and now I feel like I need a minute to put on my armor.
“Youwould make liverwurst if I were the one who asked you for lunch,” Olivia says. “I was just telling Tatum that only Mom gets the good stuff.”
In my periphery, I see Lennox drop a picnic basket in the back of the Gator. “Don’t go knocking liverwurst,” he says. “In the hands of the right chef, it’s not that bad.”
I scoff without even realizing it, my hand flying to my mouth as if to stop any more errant noises from escaping.
“Hey, Tatum,” Lennox says, a playful note to his voice. “You don’t agree with me?”
I finally lift my eyes and turn to face him. Andoh, good grief.He’s wearing a pair of joggers and a fitted running shirt, the long sleeves hugging every curve of his trim, muscular arms.
I couldn’t school my attraction to this man even if I wanted to. When he looks likethat?Resistance is futile.
I lift a shoulder in what I hope looks like an easy shrug even though on the inside, my internal organs are melting into goo. “I mean, it’s not foie gras,” I say. “You don’t exactly seeliverwurston fine dining menus across the country.”
“Probably because it’s called liverwurst,” Olivia adds. “Who would ever order it?”
“I don’t know that I’d order it somewhere else,” Lennox says. “But could I make it taste good in my kitchen?” He offers that cocky grin I’ve seen a few times since arriving at Stonebrook, his hands lifted as if weighing the imaginary odds.
I don’t doubt that he could, but I’m still glad when Olivia snarkily says, “You should bake it into somehumble pie.See how that tastes.” She cranks the engine on the Gator and shifts it into reverse. “Are you seriously going to run in this weather?” she asks, looking back at her brother one last time.
“It’s perfect running weather,” he says. “Race you to the studio?”
“Oh, you’re on,” Olivia says, and then we’re squealing out of the parking lot, gravel flying behind us.
Surely Lennox can’tactuallybeat us when we’re driving and he’s running. But as we round the bend toward the east apple orchard, I see him hop over a fence and cut across the goat pasture, which, if my sense of direction is worth anything, will take him right to the orchard while we’re driving around the barn and the rest of the outbuildings to get there.
I hang onto the hand grips, shutting my eyes as Olivia rounds another curve, this one sharp enough that I’m surprised two of our wheels don’t come off the ground. I’d ask if this kind of thing is normal, but by the way she’s driving, it has to be.
Finally, we crest the top of the hill, and I see a white building trimmed with dark shutters in the distance. Just beyond it, Lennox is sprinting through the orchard, closing in on what must be Hannah Hawthorne’s studio.
“Gah!” Olivia yells, as she increases our speed, but it isn’t enough.
Lennox is standing in front of the studio, hands resting on his knees, when we finally skid to a stop.
Olivia’s eyes are wide as she turns off the Gator. “He’s never done it before,” she says. “He’s never actually beat me.” She looks at me, a smile playing on her lips. “I wonder why he tried so hardthistime.”
She climbs out of the Gator and grabs the picnic basket, leaving me to wonder what she meant bythatcomment.
Does she think he was trying to impress me?
Was he? If so, then mission accomplished. Not that I needed yetanotherreason to be impressed with the man.
“Well done, Len,” Olivia says as she passes by. “In honor of your win, I’ll make sure we only tell Tatumsomeof the embarrassing things we know about you instead ofall.”
Lennox frowns, and I press my lips together to keep from smiling.
I’d like to knowallthe embarrassing stories about Lennox, please and thank you.
But also, Olivia is talking like Lennox and I are a thing. Like I’ve just come over to meet the parents and they’re about to slide out his baby pictures.
Does she know we’re planning to have dinner? Did Lennox tell her?
