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“I woke in the middle of the night, and the idea popped into my mind. I hadn’t thought about that swing in years.”
“That’s the gift of children, they let you live your life over again,” Sammie said.
“We had so much fun on that thing. Soren and I used to wrestle to see who could swing first.”
“Did you ever win?” Sammie asked.
“No, never. How did you know?”
“I figured he would have wanted it more, and you would have wanted him to be happy.”
“Does that make me a wimp?” Is that how she saw me? As the weak youngest brother, always acquiescing?
“It makes you kind and unselfish. If more men were like you, we wouldn’t have as many problems in the world.”
Her words made my chest ache with joy and longing, followed by a disturbing thought. What if my kindness put me in the friend zone? Nice guys never end up with the girl.
“What did I say wrong?” Sammie asked. “Your eyes went all dim.”
“You said nothing wrong. It was sweet of you to say.”
“But it made you sad?”
Fine. She wasn’t going to let this go. I’d just tell her the truth as I wanted to anyway. I wanted to tell her every thought and idea I had and all the stories of my past and hopes for the future. For now, I settled for a moment of vulnerability. “It made me wonder if I’m that guy—you know, the one all the women go to with their troubles but never fall in love with.”
“Do you think romantic love is a choice and not something that just happens to you whether you want it to or not?” Sammie cocked her head to the side, watching me.
Taken aback, I had to think before answering. “No, actually. We don’t choose who we fall in love with.”
“It just happens,” Sammie said.
“Right.” Our gazes lingered for a moment until I looked away, afraid of what she might see in my eyes.
“Anyway, you’re not that guy,” Sammie said. “You’re the type all the girls are secretly in love with, but they don’t feel good enough for you, so they keep it to themselves.”
I had no idea what to say. I’d need some time to think about that comment, dissect it, and mull over it for longer than was necessary, as I often did when it came to things that were important to me.
Sammie went back to her day planner. But we’d had a moment. I hadn’t imagined it. Was it possible she felt something for me?
“Caspian and Elliot are going to meet with her after the lunch rush,” Sammie said. “They’ll have cake samples and a few appetizers to give them an idea of the type of menu we could offer.”
“That might convince them right then and there,” I said, ever loyal to my brother and his cooking.
“You and I’ll give them a tour of the property and then go over details while sitting around the bonfire. I thought that would be a nice touch.”
“Great idea,” I said. “We should have a bottle of champagne on ice ready for them.”
“Yeah, absolutely.” Sammie nodded, leaning over her planner to jot down that detail.
Elliot arrived in the kitchen, wearing one of Caspian’s flannel shirts and a pair of leggings, her hair disheveled and a pink glow to her cheeks. It didn’t take much imagination to know why.
“Good morning,” she said cheerfully, heading for the coffeepot. “I’ve been sent for coffee by the chef. We had a late night.” She yanked two mugs from the shelf and set them on the counter.
“We don’t want to know,” I said, teasing.
“Get your mind out of the gutter.” Elliot scooped several teaspoons of sugar into one of the mugs. “I meant at the restaurant. We had a couple big tables that stayed until closing. I had to be the bad cop and tell them to leave.”
“Any luck with the house search?” I asked.
