“Discoveries are often made by not following instructions, by going off the main road, by trying the untried.”—Frank Tyger
They sat cross-legged in a tangle of sheets, passing a bowl of cold pasta back and forth. “Now my illusions are completely shattered,” she mumbled between bites. “Brady Heart eats in his bed. Who would’ve thought?”
“I don’t allow anything with crumbs,” he pointed out, popping a forkful of noodles in his mouth. “Nothing crunchy or melty.”
“So, no chocolate. No chips. What about pancakes?”
“What about them?”
“Well, they don’t have crumbs but they can get sticky with syrup.”
“I like my pancakes without syrup so they’re allowed. Thinking of making me breakfast in bed?”
She dropped her fork in the bowl. Her mouth fell open. “Not if you eat pancakes dry. You have got to be kidding. That has to be illegal.”
He grinned. “You have no right to judge. I caught you slathering chunky peanut butter on your nonfat granola bar. That’s a complete contradiction.”
She stuck out her bottom lip. “I needed more protein.”
“I checked the label. It already had 7 grams.”
“Are you spying on me?”
He grinned wider and had the nerve to grab the last portion of the noodles. Even worse, he didn’t look sorry. “Nope. Just an innocent bystander.”
“I can’t believe I’m dating someone who has no respect for maple syrup.”
“I’m a good lay.”
“Oh, that’s right. You’re forgiven.”
They stared at each other, smiling, and her heart did a little skip. Oh, Lord, he made her giddy. She loved the way he surprised her just when he thought she had him pegged. He was a delicious contradiction of rebel and rules.
Her gaze swept the gorgeous bedroom. Decorated in rich woods and dark navy, it held both warmth and masculinity. The bed was king size, with an intricately scrolled headboard that Dalton had built him. Mahogany floors and furniture set off tasteful accents in navy blue and silver. The master bath could fit an entire family and was outfitted with a steam shower, jacuzzi tub, television, and a fireplace. If she were Brady, she’d never have the motivation to ever leave the bedroom.
His entire house held the same type of appeal—large, warm, and masculine. There were no feminine touches, but she once believed his home would’ve been more like a museum, impressive to look at but at the heart, cold and remote.
Instead, the intricate architecture, from its floating decks, multi-level staircase, and open loft, emanated an artful creativity she admired. He’d used different shades of wood to mix and match, from African walnut to teak, to rich red cedar. He seemed to have a thing for unique chairs—each room showed off various fabrics and shapes, startling an onlooker. His home clearly showed there were many layers underneath the surface to the man she’d fallen in love with. She only wished she had the guts to tell him how she felt and brave the fallout.
But she couldn’t. Not yet. Not when things were still so fresh and new and perfect.
She comforted herself with the knowledge that he wanted her to meet his parents. If she wasn’t important, he would have kept her away. Charlie refused to analyze his intentions and kept surrendering to the moment. It had worked beautifully so far.
“You never answered my question,” she said. “What made you want to be an architect?”
“When did you ask me that?”
She gave a long sigh. “That first time we drove to the Baker renovation property together. You were barely speaking to me at the time. Remember now?”
“Ah, yes. I do remember. But I think your question was phrased as ‘Did you always want to be an architect?’, and my response was a simple ‘Yes.’”
“Damn, you’re annoying.”
“I try. Still want my answer?”
“Yes.”
“I was always attracted to logistics. Balance. Numbers. My brain seemed to work well when I could grasp solid concepts and put them to use. But I also had a passion for architecture and drawing. My father suggested studying graphic design in college. I consider myself lucky that I knew exactly what I wanted to do early on.”
“Dalton said you met Cal in college?”
“Were you asking Dalton questions about me?” he teased.
“Guilty as charged.”
“Yes, I actually met Cal when we were in college together. His father was very generous to me and asked me to intern at the company. I loved working with everyone and it was a natural fit. After my degree, I became certified and immediately began working for Pierce Brothers. Eventually, I proved myself over the years and they offered me a partnership.”
“I love that you embraced your father’s suggestion. Teens are so rebellious. They’d fight their parents on anything.”
He laughed. “My parents and I were always close. My father was strict, but we never had any issues, and I always felt like I was fairly treated. I had a good home life.”
She squeezed his hand. “And you appreciated it. That’s what makes you special.”
He blinked in surprise, then gave her a lopsided smile. “Never really thought of it. But it’s the same with you, Charlotte. The way you talk about your mom and growing up poor. You make no excuses. In fact, you make it sound like you were happy.”
She shrugged. “I was. I had a great mom, and yeah, we had tough times but I always had her. And once she found a steady job, we managed to settle down and have a boring, normal life like I always dreamed about.”
“Do you see your mom a lot?”
“Not as much as I want to. We lived in a small town in Pennsylvania. Our area wasn’t the best to launch a design and renovation career. I came to visit my aunt and uncle and fell in love with Harrington. I just had a sense right away this was where I was meant to be. And I was right.”
He leaned over and kissed her. She kissed him back, loving the leisurely stroke of his tongue, the gentle caress of his fingers trailing over her skin. The hunger was always there between them, burning bright, but as days passed, it grew into more tenderness, adding an extra layer that intensified the bond between them.
“Can I ask you another question?” she murmured against his lips.
“Anything.”
“What is it about being an architect you love the most?”
He never hesitated. “Precision and numbers and control are all wonderful. But I’m really a planner of dreams. I help build a story, whether it be for an office or a house or an addition. That’s the real value of my work, and that’s why it never gets old.”
Her heart stopped. God, she loved this man. The words hovered on her lips, caught up in a tide of emotion, but she kissed him again, and he pressed her slowly back into the mattress and then there was no more time for words.
* * * *
“I’m nervous,” she blurted out. Her fingers clenched around the bottle of wine. He glanced over but he could barely see her from behind the huge bouquet of wildflowers she’d also brought.
“It’s just dinner,” he said patiently. “You’re going to love my parents. And if you don’t like them, let’s set up a signal. If you kiss me, I’ll know it’s my cue to get us out of there.”
“I’m not kissing you in front of your parents!”
“Okay. How about if you flash me your breasts, I’ll make excuses and we’ll leave.”
“You are totally making fun of me.”
“I am. We’re here.”
His family home always wrapped him up in the warmth and security of his childhood. It was a moderate-sized house, with dark shingled wood, a quirky tilted roof, and a cheery front lawn lined with bricks. His mother’s vegetable garden took up the side lawn, and graceful weeping willows lined the property. There was no front porch—only a stoop—but the back deck was where everyone gathered for barbeques and parties. He’d offered many times to renovate his parents’ home to their specifications, but his father refused, stating his mother hated to live in chaos with construction and strangers in her house.
He didn’t knock, just led her through the door and headed straight to the kitchen. “Mama?”
“Brady!” She embraced him with open joy and enthusiasm, hugging him like it’d been months rather than two weeks since he’d seen her. “Who is this beautiful girl you’ve brought today?” she demanded, smiling at Charlie.
Why was his heart beating so madly? He felt like he was introducing his first girlfriend. “This is Charlotte. She likes to be called Charlie.”
Charlie handed her the flowers, looking pleased at his mother’s oohs and ahs, and hugged her back fully. His family was always touchy feely, preferring a hug over a handshake. Pride ruffled through him as he watched the embrace. He loved how Charlotte was so open and never exhibited distance.
“Thank you so much for inviting me to dinner,” Charlotte said.
“If I had known you were coming, I would’ve made my special paella. This is the most wonderful surprise! I am so happy Brady finally brought a woman home.”
Brady winced. Uh, oh. At first, he’d been surprised Charlie even agreed to join him for a Sunday dinner. He’d decided to avoid warning his family, afraid of the endless questions that would set off a barrage of phone calls. His sisters were nosy and his mother was panicked at the idea she wouldn’t get grandchildren from him. He’d hoped to save them both the stress by just showing up with Charlie for a visit.
Probably not a great idea.
“Wait. You didn’t tell your mother I was coming for dinner?”
He half closed his eyes. Yeah. The plan had definitely backfired. Now he had two women glaring at him with matching outraged expressions. “Sorry. I forgot.”
“You forgot?” Charlie’s voice went to a high pitch. “So, your sisters don’t know I’m here, or your dad, and your poor mother didn’t have time to make more food? Really, dude? Really?”
His mother watched her in fascination as he was scolded. He cleared his throat, struggling to get back on firm ground. “Mama loves company. Also loves surprises. Come on, let’s meet the rest of the family.”
He marched her firmly through the kitchen, ignoring her hushed accusations, and thrust her in front of the family. “Hi, guys. Umm, this is Charlie. She’s staying for dinner.”
Silence descended. Everyone stared, not speaking, not moving, and the air thickened with anticipation.
Ah, crap. He should’ve warned them.
After all, it was the first time he’d brought a woman to meet his family in a long time.
A long, long time.
He’d screwed up and Charlie was going to kill him.
She was going to kill him.
She stared at the group of strangers in front of her. Even the children were gazing at her in astonishment, like she was an alien who’d flown in to visit from her spaceship. The three men were gathered around a big platter of various appetizers placed on a glass table in front of them. Two women, both dark haired and quite beautiful, stood in a corner with babies in their arms. One little boy with curly brown hair and his front teeth missing lay on the floor surrounded by toys. A little girl with pigtails and a pink dress clutched her doll close to her chest, frowning slightly in confusion.
Oh, my God. He hadn’t told anyone she was coming to dinner, so no one was prepared. Was he crazy?
As the silence lengthened, Charlie swiped her damp palms over her dressy black slacks—which she’d picked out specifically for this occasion—and stepped forward. “It’s such a pleasure to be here,” she said in a bright tone. “Of course, I’m quite embarrassed Brady didn’t tell you I was coming, but I hope you’ll let me stay for dinner because everything smells delicious.”
And just like that, the spell broke.
She was immediately enveloped in a swarm of family warmth. Brady’s sisters—Cecilia and Sophia—chattered nonstop, holding out their babies—Armando and Angel—and introduced their husbands—Carlos and Michael. Brady’s father, Bruno, hurried to pour her sangria, scolding his son for not telling them such a beautiful woman was coming to visit, and quickly escorted her into a comfy, overstuffed green chair.
The little girl—Alexa—jumped over, showing off her doll and peppering her with questions about how she met Uncle Brady and how did she get her hair to look so beautiful. They plied her with mini tacos, chips with guacamole, cheese and crackers, and crusty bread filled with spinach dip. Alexa sat on her lap, Cecilia and Sophia perched on the side of her armchair, and before the hour was up, Charlie had answered over a hundred questions and felt like she had a brand new family.
They were utterly, completely charming.
By the time dinner was called, she was already stuffed and had gulped down two sangrias, but then it started all over. She ate food she’d never been introduced to and became more amazed by his mother’s cooking skills. Bowls filled with menudo—a thick, hearty soup with flavors of lime, red pepper chilis, and cilantro, danced with flavor in her mouth. Platters of steaming, tender pork shoulder, called pernil, paired with arroz con gandules, a simple, tasty rice with peas. The tortillas were stuffed with chunks of meat and seafood. The mofongo—a dish of fried mashed plantain with pork rinds—became her new obsession. The children sat in high chairs close to their mothers, babbling and eating happily as they were continuously fed tiny portions. Cecilia kept her baby perched on her lap, same as Sophia.
Charlie ate with enthusiasm, forcing herself way past her comfort zone, and finally fell back in her chair, dragging in deep breaths.
Cecilia laughed. “Ah, you’re not used to the big Sunday dinners, huh? What do you usually cook for Brady?”
“Oh, I’m not a great cook,” she admitted. “We’ve been switching on and off, or try to manage a meal together. Two cooks are better than one, right?”
Sophia stared at her in surprise. “Brady cooks for you?”
Brady groaned. “I can cook, Sophia. I’m not helpless.”
“I know, but you prefer not to. Then again, you’re in the honeymoon phase. I’m sure things will settle down once you two get into a routine.”
Charlie blinked. Had she heard correctly? A warning flashed in her brain but she ignored it. “Settle down?”
Cecilia waved her hand in the air. “Sure. Even Michael spoiled me rotten for the first few weeks. Then we settled down, and of course I took care of all the cooking. God knows, that would be a disaster if I gave up my kitchen to a man.”
Michael tugged at his wife’s hair playfully. “Hey, I made you breakfast in bed for Mother’s Day.”
“Burnt toast and pitted orange juice. But it was the thought that counts.” They shared an intimate glance, obviously warm and loving. “How long have you two been seeing each other?”
Brady winked at her. Charlie relaxed a bit. “Well, we’ve been working on the house for a few months, but we officially started dating a few weeks ago.”
Sophia sighed. “That’s so romantic. Building a house together and falling in love. When do you think you want to get married?”
Married? She swallowed, noticing Brady stiffen in his chair, tight with tension. He tore his gaze from hers, focused on his plate, and shoved mouthfuls of food into his mouth. “Umm, we haven’t really talked about that. We’re just dating.”
“But you want to get married, right, Charlie?” Cecilia asked with a pointed stare.
Heat rose to her cheeks. Thank God, Brady threw her a temporary lifeline. “We haven’t discussed anything like that, Cecilia. Don’t go scaring her.”
Brady’s mother cackled, offering more food to her sons-in-law. “Ah, nothing to be scared of. Marriage is a blessing of God and brings great joy with the right person. And once the babies come, you become queen. Mamas are well taken care of, and I know my Brady looks at his responsibilities to family very seriously.”
Babies? She fumbled for her sangria and took a healthy swallow. She would not freak out. She would not freak out. She would not…
Cecilia smiled at her like the subject was completely normal at her first family dinner. “I’m sure you want to enjoy a honeymoon period first, but I know how badly Brady wants kids. How many do you think you want?”
Brady groaned. “Cecilia, you’re scaring her again.”
Sophia frowned. “But you want babies, right, Charlie?”
Oh. My. God.
“Eventually,” she squeaked.
“When do you think the house will be done?” Carlos asked.
“Umm, in a month or so. I’m very excited to flip the finished product. It’s been taking up a lot of our time so we’ll get a bit of a break.”
“That’s amazing,” Sophia said. “I always wondered what it would be like to have a career, but there wasn’t anything I felt passionate about. Except my children, of course.” Her smile was brilliant. “They’re a full-time job. Especially with the third on its way.” She patted her stomach, which barely showed a bulge.
“Oh, congratulations,” Charlie said. “That’s such wonderful news!”
“Thank you, we’re hoping for a girl this time around, but if not, we can always try again. Unless the third one finally does me in.”
Carlos leaned over and pressed a kiss to his wife’s cheek. “Ah, but you’d be bored without us,” he teased.
She practically glowed with satisfaction. “I love it. Every part of it. And you will too, Charlie. Once you marry Brady and have his babies, you won’t miss building houses.”
Her fork dropped. “Wait a minute. Brady and I would never—”
Brady fell into a loud coughing fit, interrupting her and distracting everyone at the table. She stared at him, fuming, waiting for him to tell his family they didn’t have that type of relationship and Charlie would never quit her career.
Instead, he chugged down water and quickly changed the subject. Before long, they were involved in a lively discussion about Carlos’s job as a history professor. Charlie sipped her third sangria, watching the clear dynamics play out at the dinner table. The women murmured and chatted about the children, and the men talked about their careers and the challenges. When dinner ended, the men got up from the table and filed into the living room, leaving a table full of dishes, leftover food, and needy children.
“Where’d they go?” Charlie asked. “They aren’t going to help clean up?”
The women stared at her like she’d sprouted horns, then burst into laughter. “Oh, now that would be a sight to see!” Cecilia said, getting up from her chair and grabbing a plate. “They play cards now.”
“For how long?”
Sophia shrugged. “About an hour. We’ll be done by then. But Charlie, you’re our guest. Why don’t you take a seat and chat with us while we clean up?”
She rose with the women, shaking her head. “Absolutely not. I need to work off some calories. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten that much in my life. It was absolutely delicious.”
His mother beamed. “Thank you. I can teach you how to make the paella and menudo. They are Brady’s favorites.”
She nodded, forcing a smile, but uneasiness flickered deep within. Was this what being with his family would be like? They were warm and gracious and wonderful, but would they actually expect her to give up her career? Dedicate her time to cooking and cleaning and raising kids while he owned the role of breadwinner? Did a relationship with Brady consist of becoming someone else? Or at least pretending to be?
She swallowed back her doubts and concentrated on helping the women. At one point, the two toddlers were wailing, but she engaged in a rousing game of peekaboo while they sat in their high chairs and soon had them giggling nonstop.
Brady’s mother patted her shoulder. Charlie glanced up and noticed the dancing glint in her beautiful dark eyes. “I am so glad you came,” she said quietly. “You are good for him. You make him happy.”
“He makes me happy,” she said simply. “But I don’t want to mislead you. We’re not, umm, we’re not really serious. We’re just dating.”
The older woman cackled with merriment. “Brady doesn’t bring someone home unless he’s serious.” She pointed to the two babies. “You will be a good daughter-in-law.”
“Umm, I’m not—”
“Welcome to the family.”
“But—”
She was pulled into a warm, loving embrace, quickly joined by Cecilia and Sophia, as if she’d just announced their engagement. And though her words sputtered in her throat, the denial hovering on her lips, a tide of yearning so intense crashed over her in waves, tempting her with an image she’d never believed could be a possibility.
The possibility of Brady loving her as she loved him. The possibility of his family becoming hers. The possibility of…more.
So Charlie said nothing and hugged them back.