The Best Kind of Trouble. Lauren Dane

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      Her housemate, in addition to running a custom framing shop, made jewelry she sold in her store. The earrings Natalie spilled into her palm were dangly bits of blue. All together they made a dragonfly, one of Tuesday’s favorite subjects.

      Natalie took off the earrings she had on and replaced them with the dragonflies. “Thanks.”

      “Text me if you need me to save you. Otherwise, you can debrief me tomorrow morning. If you sleep over at his place, text so I won’t worry.”

      “I’m not sleeping over at his place.” No matter how sexy he was. No matter how much knowledge she had about how good he was in bed. Sleeping with Paddy on the first date—despite their history—would be stupid.

      “That’s the saddest thing I’ve heard today, Nat.”

      * * *

      “WHERE ARE YOU off to tonight?”

      Paddy tossed the ball one last time, and Ezra’s dumb but sweet-as-hell dog ran off after it, getting distracted by a butterfly.

      He looked up at his mother, who stood on Ezra’s porch with Damien’s wife, Mary, and tried to pitch his voice low to avoid notice. “I’ve got a date.”

      “Is that a euphemism?” his mother called out. So much for trying to keep it quiet.

      Mary laughed, and Paddy shook his head. “You’re jaded, Mom.”

      “I raised you four! I’m an eternal optimist. You don’t date, you go off and have your little flings and return home in a week or so.”

      “Well, I’ll have you know I’m taking a librarian to dinner.”

      “Is that a euphemism?” Mary asked with a smirk.

      “She works here in town, as it happens. I’m making her dinner on the boat.”

      “Do you need help?”

      One of the best things about having Mary as a sister-in-law was that she was an amazing cook. The author of three cookbooks, she was their own personal tour chef, too.

      “I’m grilling some salmon from the fishing trip I took with Vaughan a few weeks back. I was going to have corn on the cob to go with.”

      Mary cocked her head. “You’re going to serve your date corn on the cob? Is this a first date?”

      By the scandalized look on his sister-in-law’s face, he figured it was probably not a good thing to do.

      “In a manner of speaking. I knew her before. Years ago. Before we hit it big.”

      His mother crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh, and she suddenly wants to go out with you?” Sharon Hurley was not one for any foolery that had to do with anyone taking advantage of her children.

      He laughed. “Well, Ezra thinks this is pretty hilarious and all, but no. I ran into her in town last month, and she pretended not to remember me at first. I’ve been hounding her pretty much three or four days a week since then to get her to go out with me. She’s utterly disinterested in me as a celebrity. In fact, it freaks her out, I think. That’s why I’m doing dinner on the boat instead of taking her to a restaurant.”

      Mary perked up. “Oh, well, then. Wait. Natalie? Supercute little blonde? She’s one of those who wears cigarette pants and flats and looks like an ad for a vintage clothing catalog?”

      He kept looking back and forth between his mother and sister-in-law, confused by Mary’s questions and hoping to get some sort of clue from the context.

      His mother’s brows rose, and then she nodded, patting Mary’s arm.

      That shared look could very well equal trouble for Paddy, so he wanted to nip it right in the bud before it could turn into a reality. “What is going on between you two? It looks like there’s a caper brewing. No capers. For God’s sake. It took me a month of following this woman around like a lost puppy just to get her to let me walk her to work. If you two rush in like Lucy and Ethel, you’re going to ruin all my progress. Also, what are cigarette pants?”

      Mary waved that away. “Never mind, it’s her. There aren’t any other blondes working at the library. Don’t make her eat corn on the cob. Not on the first date. Even if you knew her from before.” Mary came down the steps. “Come with me to the house. I’m sure I have some sides for you.” She tucked her arm through his.

      “Are you taking pity on me?” He liked to tease her. She’d come from an equally insane family and fit in theirs just fine. She was the sister he’d never had, and she kept his brother Damien in line and from burning things down. Plus, there was that really good cook thing, and she wasn’t a chore to look at, either.

      “That’s what family does.” She winked.

      “Let’s drive over. I want to get to the boat and get things set up. I’m picking her up at six.”

      He opened the door of his car for her, and she got in.

      He wasn’t stupid with his money, but he loved cars and had a special garage built at his place for his collection. He’d decided to take the Shelby fastback. He’d had it restored up in Seattle the year before, and he loved the summertime when he could drive it often.

      It was a sexy car. And yes, he was showing off. A little.

      Damien was out front when they arrived at his and Mary’s house, just down the road from the main house their parents lived in. His brother’s face lit when he caught sight of Mary. “Hey, there, Curly. Have you been keeping Paddy out of trouble?” Damien kissed his wife soundly.

      “Impossible to keep the Hurley boys out of trouble. Only your mother has the fortitude for that. But he’s got a date, and I’ve got stuff for him.”

      Damien slung an arm around his wife’s shoulders as he took Paddy in. “Don’t give him those potatoes. Well, you can’t, anyway, because I ate them about ten minutes ago.”

      “Damien! Those were for dinner.”

      He laughed and Paddy rolled his eyes at his bottomless pit of a brother.

      “I was hungry. How can I resist? They didn’t even have a sticky note on them saying not to eat them like the other stuff does.”

      “You ignore those, too. I figured if I put the potatoes behind the beets you’d never see them.” She looked back over her shoulder. “Come on in. Let’s see what’s left after Hurricane Damien has gone through my kitchen like a plague of locusts.” Mary poked Damien’s side. “Where do you even put it all? How fair is that, anyway?”

      Paddy did what he was told, sitting at the bar while she put together a tote of food for him. Her colored-cotton totes were famous in his family. She had several, each with colored stripes indicating which of them got what bounty. His was blue, and she handed him three, one of which was insulated.

      “Balsamic strawberries. They’ll be awesome for dessert. Wild strawberries, even. There’s a pint of vanilla ice cream in case she wants some to go with the strawberries. The balsamic is good on that, too.”

      He СКАЧАТЬ