Family Matters (DiCarlo Brides book 4) (The DiCarlo Brides) (15 page)

“You don’t usually wear so much makeup.” Cleo tipped her head and studied Rosemary. “Are you wearing a lot so he’ll kiss you?”

Rosemary felt her stomach clench a little more. “I just want to look nice tonight, that’s all. I don’t know if he’ll kiss me or not. Or if I’ll want him to.” She winked at Cleo. She and Harrison had barely held a non-hostile conversation until a few weeks before the bombing. She was confused by the change in their relationship, led mostly by Harrison letting her irritability flow over him with barely a ripple. She hadn’t figured out why things had changed. Not that she was complaining. “Do you want to try my lipstick?” It was the kind of thing Cecelia would have done—had done when Rosemary was still a teen.

Cleo’s face crumpled a little. “Yeah. Mom let me test her lipstick sometimes too.” A tear slid down her cheek and she wiped it away. “I miss her.”

Rosemary sat beside her on the edge of the bed and slid her arm around Cleo’s shoulder. “I know you do. Me too. She was the best mom, ever, wasn’t she?”

“Yeah.” Cleo rested her cheek against Rosemary. “And Dad, he was really great too. They loved me a lot. Didn’t they?”

“They sure did, bug.” Tears rose to Rosemary’s eyes and she wanted to retort with one of her off-the-cuff comments that focused the attention away from her pain, but this wasn’t the time. Cleo needed her. “You have no idea how excited they were when they got to bring you home. They actually brought us both home from the hospital together and took care of us until I went back to school. Your mom just wanted to cuddle and hold you every minute of every day. She’d wanted a baby for so long.”

“But they couldn’t, so they adopted me.”

“That’s right. She used to say you were her best thing.” Rosemary used her thumb to brush away a wet trail from her cheek. “I had to agree.”

The doorbell rang and Jonquil called up the stairs, “Rosemary, it’s Mr. Wonderful.”

Rosemary laughed. “Tell him to take a seat. I’ll be a few minutes.”

“No, you should go down. Don’t make him wait,” Cleo said, tugging on Rosemary’s hand.

“Hey, I’m talking with my girl about the mother we both love. Harrison can wait.” She straightened and looked at herself in the mirror again. Her eyes were red and her nose practically glowed. “Perfect. If I put on this lipstick then my whole face will be red.”

Cleo giggled even as she wiped fresh tears.

Rosemary leaned over and kissed Cleo’s forehead. “Come here and I’ll help you with the makeup.”

She powdered her face and put on the lipstick. She glided some on Cleo’s skinny little lips and walked her through blotting, then packed her clutch. Rosemary frowned at her reflection in the mirror, thinking she looked terrible, but it wouldn’t exactly be the worst Harrison had ever seen her. Cleo ran ahead down the stairs and wrapped her arms around Harrison so enthusiastically that he took a step back to keep from falling over.

Rosemary chuckled when she saw it, glad Cleo had bonded so readily to people here, but a little unsure how she felt that one of those people was Harrison.

“That’s some welcome you’ve got there,” she said to him from the top of the stairs.

He chuckled. “Best ever.” He looked up at her and the smile widened. “You look terrific.” A furrow grew between his brows as she came closer. “Is something wrong?”

“No, Cleo and I were just reminiscing. We’re fine. You ready?” She didn’t think she’d be able to eat anything tonight, not with her nerves firing at his nearness, but she’d do her best.

His eyes held understanding. He picked up Cleo and gave her a smacking kiss on the cheek. “You have fun with Jonquil and make sure she leaves Rosemary’s kitchen in the same order as when she starts.”

“It’s not her kitchen. It belongs to all of us.” Jonquil crossed her arms over her chest and glowered a little, though the little twitch at the corners of her mouth belied her angry tone.

Rosemary returned the attitude. “Leave it a mess and you’ll find out whose kitchen it really is.”

Cleo giggled. She could always see through Rosemary’s shields. “She’ll put you in time out!”

“That would be a real shame. Jonquil might shrivel up and die if she couldn’t go in to work or slap on a pair of skis,” Rosemary agreed.

Harrison took her hand. “Are you ready to go?”

“Sure.” She put her free hand on Cleo’s shoulder, but talked to Jonquil. “Be nice to my girl here so I’ll let you hang out again, but don’t let her get away with anything.”

“Awwww!” Cleo protested.

“Love your guts.”

Rosemary allowed Harrison to help her with her coat and accompanied him out to his car.

“Is everything really all right?” he asked as soon as the door closed behind them.

“Yeah, just remembering Cecelia. It hits at odd moments, doesn’t it?”

He nodded, but didn’t answer.

“Have you ever lost someone you loved, besides Dad?” It seemed odd sometimes, to remember how important her father had been to Harrison, but the way Sage described it, he had been the son her father never had. That made her wonder about his father, but Sage hadn’t been willing to divulge and Rosemary hadn’t wanted to push, knowing it could end up with her having to talk about Wanda. Now things were different.

He helped her into the passenger seat, then came around to his side without answering. When his seatbelt was on, he turned the key. “No. I haven’t lost anyone else I really loved. George was the first, and he wasn’t my parent. Not really. More like a favorite uncle. I’ve never been close to grandparents or anything.”

Rosemary hesitated. “What happened to your dad? Your real dad, I mean. Sage said your mom was married to him, but things went south and he booked before she met our dad.”

His lips thinned. “This is a heavy conversation for the beginning of a first date. How about if we save it for dessert?”

Rosemary hesitated, wanting to push the subject, but not wanting to start things on the wrong foot. “Okay. So how, ‘bout them Nuggets?”

He shook his head, relaxing at the change of topic. “They’re having a terrible season. You’d think with Curtis Werner on the team they’d be doing better, but they don’t use him enough.”

She settled back in the seat and they talked basketball. Easily taxing the extent of her sports knowledge in only five minutes. “Where are we going?” She’d noticed he wore a suit—with the jacket—which he hardly ever did at work.

“A special place. Just wait.” They drove down the mountainside to a little lodge next to a lake. “I hear they have a nice little restaurant and that we won’t be interrupted by business associates a dozen times.”

She liked that idea. She really needed to get away from the hotel more often.

“Who told you about this place?” She asked once they were seated and their drinks had been poured. The place was intimate, with cushy booths and dimmed lights. The logs that formed the wall were exposed on the inside and there was a huge fireplace in the middle of the room, providing light, heat and ambiance.

“One of the concierges. There’s no point having a resource like that at my fingertips if I don’t use it.” His eyes caught on hers and the teasing expression in them made her heart race.

“Absolutely.” She opted for sparkling water—fewer calories—and tipped her glass against his. “Did you always want to work in human resources?”

He laughed. “No, not at all. It just happens that I ended up being good at it. George pulled me into it.”

She smiled, thinking about her dad. “He had a talent for seeing things like that, didn’t he? And what does your Mother Earth, nature-loving mom think about you going all three-piece-suit on her?”

He chuckled. “She hates it. At least Sage is working with natural healing techniques, but I’m the rebel—going against the grain, giving into social pressures.” He smiled, but there was an edge of wistfulness in it.

She understood that perfectly. “It sucks to let a parent we love down, even when we know we’re making the best decision for us. Dad always wanted me to head up a kitchen, like I do now. I didn’t want to—I liked just spending my days cooking without all the hassles of ordering and being in charge of everything. So he came up with this crazy scheme to make all of his daughters live up to their potentials.” She shook her head.

“You’re a good manager, Rosemary.”

She shot him a look of disbelief. “Yeah, you say that now because you’re hoping for a goodnight kiss, but I remember the way we’ve argued about the way I handle my employees.” Those criticisms had hurt more than they should have.

He slid his hand over hers. “Hey, I mean it. You can be a little rough on incompetence, granted, but you handle the rest really well. You shuffle your schedule, handle problems as they arise, and handle complaints from guests with surprising diplomacy considering how unreasonable some of them are.”

“That’s an understatement.” She knew her shortcomings, even if she didn’t like having them pointed out.

“But you handle it most of the time. You offer praise where it’s earned and prod them to do better, to stretch for your praise. Most of them meet the challenge. I like that.”

She felt warmed by the acknowledgment. “So I’m doing fine, and Rulon was nothing to worry about?”

He snorted a little. “I’m still going to call you on your crap when you need me to, but most of the time I think you do good, great even.”

Rosemary couldn’t help but feel good about that. “I thought you thoroughly disapproved of me until not so long ago,” she admitted.

“I didn’t.” He reached across the table and took her hand. “I just didn’t know how to talk to you. We kept crossing swords every time we talked. I don’t know why and I couldn’t seem to change things.”

As long as they were being painfully honest. “I know why, and it goes back to my tremendously appealing character traits. I’m not the easiest person to get along with.” When he didn’t argue, she ignored the niggle of pain and pushed him a little. “So why did you ask me out? Why are you here when you know how, um, poorly I deal with disappointment?”

He watched her for a long moment. “If I told you the truth, you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

Harrison didn’t speak for a moment, though it was obvious he was considering it. “I had a feeling about us the first time we met. It gets stronger all the time.”

She remembered her own instant attraction, but didn’t think that was what he meant. “You mean the kind of feeling Sage gets sometimes?”

His lips quirked. “You’re good at reading between the lines.”

She considered that, unsettled by the statement. “That’s kind of freaky. But you
are
Sage’s brother.”

“I noticed that.”

She pulled a face at him. “You ever have any of those woo-woo things happen before? I mean, you mentioned to Cleo that you did, once, but I have to wonder. I mean, really. I don’t believe in that crap—except for Sage because she’s freaky accurate. So you really felt that?”

“Yeah, just that once, or rather twice, I guess. Like I said.” He sipped at his wine, allowing the moment to stretch. “It was when I met you.”

She froze. Was that just a smooth line, or was he for real? “You didn’t act like you even remembered me when we met again last summer, and you definitely didn’t treat me any different than you did the others. Until I popped off at you, which didn’t take long.” She touched her neck in a defensive gesture. “Everything from the cruise just flooded back to me and I had this immature knee-jerk reaction.”

“I know. And I didn’t see you for the first time when we met last summer. I walked into the dining room earlier that day, saw you again and knew that you were the same person I’d met on the cruise.”

She stared at him. “You recognized me that fast?” She’d thought about asking Sage about him before that, remembered how attracted she’d been to him the moment their eyes met on the ship, but it had been water under the bridge—or the prow—so she’d let it go. If she hadn’t seen him being so careful of his sister when she’d gotten hurt, hadn’t reacted so badly, things could have been much different.

“I felt it on the ship. I felt it again when I saw you this summer, poring over the list of kitchen supplies.”

Now she really did doubt whether she could eat anything. Her heart pounded like crazy and she felt more than a little unsettled. This was so much pressure—he thought there was something real going on here, more serious than she’d ever considered. She pushed back from the table a little.

Regret pulled at his mouth. “I’m sorry, I freaked you out. I didn’t mean to.”

She took a gulp of water, then nearly coughed up a lung when some of the carbonation went down the wrong windpipe.

“Are you okay?” He was at her side in a flash.

She sucked in air. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Really.” Not really. What was she doing on a date with him? He was a totally picket fence sort of guy, and she wasn’t getting serious about anyone, no matter how much she liked him. She’d been hurt before, seen her mother date and split with dozens of guys, and knew what a hound dog her father was with women. She kept coughing, wishing she’d gotten regular water instead of the carbonated kind.

A moment later it seemed most of the restaurant staff was clustered around the table and the other patrons were watching, their eyes studying her as if they hoped they were seeing a heart attack in progress.

She sucked in a breath. “I’m fine, really. I just swallowed the water down the wrong pipe. I’m okay.” She waved them away with a few more reassurances and pointed to Harrison’s chair when he stayed standing beside her. “Sit, please. This has been enough of a spectacle already.” She was grateful they hadn’t eaten at the resort restaurant, imagining the fuss everyone would have made.

And she was still wigging about his comment.

“So, how about those Nuggets,” he asked as he took his seat, though they’d already canvassed that thoroughly.

“Don’t worry about it, really Harrison. I’m fine.” She considered. “But I don’t think I want to talk about your one or two, I guess, psychic experiences in any more depth. Not right now.”

He nodded, but disappointment hung around his mouth. “Then how about if we talk about your time in Italy? You said it’s your favorite place in the world. Where did you train?”