I inhaled sharply and released the breath in a slow, steady stream. When I was sure I could speak calmly, I said, "Brody, she's a little girl and it wasn't intentional. Believe it or not, I've had children spill drinks, melted ice cream, and other much more disgusting things on me. I've been puked on, peed on, and on one occasion pooped on, though in the baby's defense it was beyond his control. I would never hold it against a child for accidentally dousing me with tea. If she'd done it on purpose, that would be a different story, but it was obvious that she didn't mean it and she apologized. Now, I only have an hour and a half to eat and spend time with my family before I have to get to the shop and open up for the afternoon, so if you'll excuse me..."
I stepped to the side in an effort to skirt around him, but Brody sidestepped with me. I didn't try to go the other way. I remained still and stared up at him, letting my annoyance show.
"Why do you always assume I think the worst of you?" he asked, frowning at me.
"Because you usually do, Brody. And this is a perfect example of that. Since my freshman year of high school, you've picked at everything I say and do and seem to derive some sick pleasure out of it."
He looked...shocked. "I don't do that. I wouldn't pick on you if I didn't care about you."
"I'm sure that makes it all okay, then," I retorted. "Look, we're both adults. I can be civil to you when I see you. All that I ask is that you do the same for me. I'm used to it and I'm not going to make a big thing of it if you can't help yourself. But please don't act surprised when I don't lower myself to your expectations."
Brody stared at me but didn't try to stop me when I moved around him once again.
As I left the laundry room, I smiled. It was the first time I'd clearly and concisely told Broderick Murphy exactly what I thought of him and it was freeing. I hadn't realized that there was a dark corner of my brain that housed my insecurities in regard to him. The deficiencies that he always seemed to jab, poke, and prod with frightening precision.
Somehow, in the last seven years, I'd moved beyond caring what Brody thought of me. Did it still irk me a little that he expected me to be the reactive, emotional girl I once was? Yes, but it no longer burned in my belly the way it would have.
I guess I'd grown up after all.
Well, only a little since I intended to charge him full price if he brought Jacks into the shop.
Mom was just placing the food out on the dining room table when I entered. She was in the process of setting a bowl of salad down when her hand arrested in midair as she studied my attire.
"You look...summery," she finally said.
I shrugged. "It was this or a pair of my old track shorts, crop top, and no bra."
"I'm sure this will be fine," she murmured.
"Do you need me to bring anything else to the table?" I asked.
Mom shook her head. I moved over to my usual seat and was just about to plop down when a pair of arms wrapped around my waist and yanked me off my feet.
I clutched at the arms and squealed as I was spun around in rapid, wide circles. My eyes wouldn't focus and I staggered when he released me. But I still managed to punch my brother in the shoulder hard enough to make him yelp and rub the spot.
"Jeez, Cam, no need for violence."
Before he could defend himself, I punched him in the other shoulder.
"Ow! What the he—"
"Jackson Joseph McClane, watch your mouth." My mother's sharp remonstration interrupted his complaint. While she wasn't yelling, the woman had a way of projecting her voice in such a way that you could hear her, loud and clear, over any other background noise. I think if she hadn't married my father and become a nurse in his office that she could have had a career in the theater. "There is a child present and your mother who doesn't appreciate your foul mouth."
Speaking of the child, I realized that her name was the feminine of J.J.'s and my chest tightened. Brody had named his daughter after my brother. It was incredibly sweet.
J.J. shot me a baleful glare as he rubbed his sore shoulders. "Sorry, Mom."
"Now, if you two are done acting like idiots, how about we have a nice family meal together?"
My brother moved around the table, still glaring at me, and took the seat between Jacks and Sierra. That meant that the seat next to me was for Brody.
Great. Just great.
4
You know when you're stuck sitting next to someone who irritates you and you get that feeling like hot prickles on the skin closest to them?
No? Maybe that's just something I experience.
Or maybe Brody Murphy finally succeeded in driving me over the edge.
My right arm and leg tingled like crazy as though I were sitting too close to a bonfire and I swore that I could actually feel his presence.
Perfect. I was going to stress eat all during lunch, which would make my already snug cut-offs even tighter. So much for fitting in my clothes from college.
I growled under my breath as I reached for my iced tea and took a sip. I shot a look to my right when Brody made a strange coughing-slash-choking sound. He didn't meet my gaze but kept his eyes on his plate.
"Miss McClane?"
I glanced up at the sound of Jacks' voice. Brody's daughter met my gaze and I noticed that while her eyes were a slightly different shade from her father's, they were shaped the same. Her stare was almost as piercing as her father's as well.
"Please call me Cam, Jacks."
She glanced at her father. I followed her example and saw Brody nod at her.
"Uncle J said you own an ice cream shop. Is that true?"
I grinned at her. "Yes, it is. And I make all my own ice cream too."
"Really?"
"Yep. Twelve flavors that I offer daily and three that change with the seasons or my mood."
Her answering grin was huge. "That sounds great. I wish I could try them all."
"You're welcome to come by any time. I'd be happy to let you."
Her smile faded a little. "Mom doesn't like it when I eat ice cream. She said it'll make me fat." She studied me. "Do you eat the ice cream in your shop? Because you're not fat at all."
My eyes shot over to Brody and I bit my bottom lip. I could see the muscles in his jaw ticking. I felt another wave of heat against my right side and I was pretty sure it was anger. He didn't say anything though.
Well, if he wasn't going to address the sudden, gigantic elephant in the room, I was.
I turned back to Jacks. "I do eat my ice cream, sweetie. But I try not to eat too much of it. Anything can be bad for you if you eat a whole lot." I peered at Brody out of the corner of my eye, but he remained silent, so I soldiered on. If I was going to screw this up, I was going to do a magnificent job. "But you shouldn't worry about being fat. You're still pretty young and have a lot of growing to do. If you eat well, stay active, and get plenty of rest, you'll be very healthy and that's more important. If you feel good on the inside, it shows on the outside, regardless of the size or shape of your body."
I chanced another quick look at Brody, but the ticking in his jaw was noticeably absent. My mother looked almost proud.