"Look, Brody, I'm a bit irritated with you right now so this may not be the best time for me to have this conversation. It might work for you, but you're not the only person here and you don't get to arbitrarily show up at my place of business, scare the absolute shit out of me, and then get miffed when I don't want to talk to you. Especially after the shit you said to me earlier today."
Brody stood a few feet away, his face partially obscured by the shadows. "That's why I came by," he said. "Because your mother always told us that apologies should be made face-to-face so the other person can see that we're sincere."
Well, that took my ire down a notch. "What?"
He took a step forward. Then another. "I'm sorry that I upset you earlier. I didn't mean to insult you." I saw the flash of his teeth as he smiled. "Since you were dressed in some of the same clothes you wore in high school, I think I forgot that you're not a kid anymore."
I cocked my head and studied him. "I haven't been a kid for a long time, Brody. And even then, I probably wouldn't have acted like that if you hadn't been...well, how you were."
He stilled but I couldn't read his expression in the darkness. "You're right. I did provoke you and I'm sorry for that too. I think we're both different people now. At least in the ways that matter most."
There was a shift inside of me, in the vicinity of my heart, and a burden I hadn't realized I still carried was released. We'd both been young and stupid as teenagers and I thought I'd released the hurt from those memories long ago. Apparently, I hadn't.
"I'm sorry I ignored you earlier," I replied.
"But not for punching me?" Brody teased.
I shook my head. "Nope. You've been a part of this family long enough to know exactly what you're gonna get if you sneak up on me, so no apology for that."
He chuckled and came closer until I could actually make out his face in the waning light. Though it was nearly nine p.m., there was still a bit of color in the sky.
"I also wanted to thank you for what you said to Jacks." He rocked back on his heels. "Her mom can be..." He trailed off as though he were searching for the right words.
"A piece of work?" I asked.
I'd only met Brody's ex a handful of times, one of those being their wedding, and that's exactly how she'd come across to me. And not in a good way.
He sighed. "Yeah, that's probably the best way to describe her. I hate that she says shit like that to Jacks, but now that we're not living together, I have to wait until she comes home to do damage control."
"That sucks," I said. "How does Jacks handle it?"
"Well, she only sees her mom on the weekends and the occasional Wednesday."
I blinked at that statement. "What's-her-name didn't want joint custody?"
"Monica doesn't like obligations that interfere with her social calendar," Brody answered with a shrug. "So at least there's not a lot of damage control to do."
Oh, yeah, definitely a piece of work.
"Well, you're more than welcome to bring Jacks by any time you want for sundaes or even samples. She seems like a very sweet girl."
Brody laughed. "Oh, she's got you fooled already, but I'll take you up on it. Jacks needs good women like you and your mom in her life."
Once again, something in my chest shifted and I took a deep breath. I covered the sudden swell of emotion with a smartass remark. "Oh my God, I think that's the first compliment you've ever given me."
He flicked my nose as he laughed again. "Nope, as I recall, I told you that your toilet paper boobs looked realistic in the seventh grade."
I gasped in mock outrage and smacked his arm. "Brody Murphy, I told you what would happen if you ever mentioned that again." That was part of the reason the nickname I'd had in high school had hurt so much. While J.J. had teased me mercilessly about the incident, Brody hadn't said anything at the time. Then two years later, he dubbed me "Flatty Cami" just before my freshman year started. Fourteen-year-old me had been humiliated and deeply hurt.
"Nope, you swore vengeance on your brother, not me."
"Well, it was an understood inclusion."
Brody slung an arm around my neck and gave me a rough hug followed by a tousle to my hair. It was the same move he pulled on me when he was twelve and I was eight. Back before our relationship changed into something more contentious.
I retaliated by pinching his side the way I'd done as a kid. Valiantly, I ignored the fact that his waist was lean and muscled rather than the chub he'd carried as a child.
Brody yelped and released me immediately. Rubbing his side, he said, "Guess I should have seen that coming. You did it back when we were kids too."
My stomach rumbled which made him chuckle.
"You better go get something to eat or I'll have to answer to your mom," he stated.
"Yeah, Sierra promised me dinner. And I'm ready to get off my feet."
"Your friend seems interesting."
"No hitting on my bestie," I commanded.
Brody grinned. "I wasn't planning on it. Though my brother did mention meeting a hot redhead when he dropped by to see you the other day."
Oh, shit.
"Tell Ben no hitting on my bestie either."
"You say that like Ben listens to me."
He had a good point. Ben followed his own path. He always had. He learned his lessons by screwing up rather than listening to someone else's warnings.
"Man, I'm not sure who would win if he and Sierra got tangled up," I murmured. "She's got ninja skills."
"I guess we'll just have to wait and see before we place our bets."
I rolled my eyes. "No betting on whether my best friend and your brother will break each other's hearts. Understand?"
Brody laughed again. "Understood. Go home and get something to eat. I'll bring Jacks by the shop later this week for an ice cream tasting."
I climbed into my car as Brody walked away, tooting my horn as I drove by him when he was getting into his truck.
He smiled and waved, both of us oblivious to the people watching us from the diner two doors down.
5
The next morning, I walked into the living room to find Sierra ensconced on my couch, watching television with a cup of coffee in her hand. This was unusual, especially since she'd been up so late the night before. I smirked when I remembered her reaction to meeting Gary, the neighborhood mooch. Also known as a very fat raccoon.
Carefully, I wiped the smile of my face before I spoke. "Uh, why are you watching a cooking show?" I asked.
Sierra's sleepy eyes shifted to me. "Huh?"
Clearly, her coffee hadn't kicked in yet. I rephrased, "Why are you watching a cooking show when you don't cook?"
She took a sip of coffee. "I cook," she answered. "Just because I don't cook well doesn't mean I don't need to know how. When the zombie apocalypse comes, I'll have to eat my own cooking with no backup plan for take-out and I don't want it to suck."
I shook my head and went straight for the kitchen. It was too early for that discussion and I hadn't had coffee yet.