The Maxwell Sisters (19 page)

Spider had always prided himself on being the one everybody liked. The easygoing guy in the room, who rarely put a foot wrong. He wasn't fussy, he wasn't snobbish and, as a general rule, he had a good sense of humour.

Yet since his arrival at Tawny Brooks for their one-month stay, it felt like he had become the most hated person in the area.

First there was Heath, a guy he honestly hadn't had that much to do with and thought would be easy to befriend. After all, his future brother-in-law knew first-hand how crazy this family was. Perhaps he would have some advice to share on how to get into their good books.

But no, the guy was like a wall. Stern and mostly silent. He'd heard that he wasn't a big talker. His complete lack of engagement, however, was ridiculous – along with those long intimidating stares that seemed to indicate that he knew something that Spider might be ashamed of.

Spider couldn't think what that might be.

In turn, Phoebe's eldest sister, the lovely Natasha, was no better. She deliberately excluded him with the cheese board – must have cut a piece for everyone else in the room except him the previous evening. What she meant by that he had absolutely no idea.

Then there was Eve – his long-time friend, the one person he thought he could count on. Of all the surprises, she was
avoiding
him! Wouldn't even look him in the eye.

Why? He'd tried to discover the reason after he arrived at the restaurant that morning, only to have another run-in with his least favourite person on the team: Adam Carter.

Who the hell was this guy anyway?

He wasn't even a member of the family, for goodness sake, yet he seemed to be in on everything. He and Eve were best buddies. John had been drinking with him yesterday evening. Even Anita seemed to think the sun and the moon shone right out of his arse.

I mean, what has he got that I haven't?

Apart from an eighteen-inch bicep. The guy was a joker. He didn't have a serious bone in his body. And, with every interaction they had, Adam just seemed to want to make fun of him. Last night, Spider had been trying to reconnect with Anita all evening – telling her how wonderful her daughter was, how gorgeous her gardens were, how immaculately she kept her house and if she might offer him a few tips. While she accepted all his comments and answered his questions, she made no move to get to know him better.

And then she'd brought out dessert – a chocolate mousse cake beautifully covered in whipped chocolate cream and sprinkled with flakes. It looked delicious but he was too full from the main meal. So when she offered him this giant piece on a plate, he'd put his hand over his heart and said, ‘No thank you, Anita. It looks lovely but I just couldn't fit another thing in.'

‘But you can't go without dessert!' she gasped. ‘It's a sacrilege.'

There was utter silence at the table as everyone turned to stare at him.

‘The truth is, Anita,' he stammered, ‘your moussaka was just so yummy that I pigged out on it. I really shouldn't have had that second helping. I honestly can't fit in cake as well.'

‘Very well.' She pursed her lips and moved the plate away from him.

‘I'll have it.' Adam raised his hand.

Her face immediately broke out into a huge approving smile. ‘Of course you will, Adam. You love my cooking.'

‘It's not that I don't love your cooking,' Spider tried to protest but his voice went unheard.

Anita was watching Adam, who was already spooning some of the cake into his mouth. ‘How is it?' she demanded.

‘It's sensational.' Adam closed his eyes in ecstasy.

Anita sighed. ‘You're such a sweet boy. I don't know why you don't stay for dinner more often. We can always do with good company in the house.'

John chuckled.

And as Spider continued to stare in shock at the scene playing out, Adam glanced at him with wide eyes that held just a hint of satisfaction. Spider quickly looked away, desperate not to engage in a battle he obviously could not win. It seemed to be the tone of the evening really – Spider pushed aside for the needs of everybody else.

He still could not believe that Phoebe had divided up the organisation of their wedding without consulting him first. Though he shouldn't be surprised she had kept it from him – she seemed to be full of secrets these days, though she continued to deny it. He knew withdrawal when he saw it, but couldn't seem to make her open up.

All of this, however, was the least of his worries. When he had first arrived at Tawny Brooks, he had thought that his future father-in-law would be his biggest problem … And he definitely was.

He had never had a good relationship with John Maxwell. Since the whole fire debacle and the confrontation over his daughters, things had deteriorated even further. He had apologised as best he could for that misunderstanding and tried to prove himself a worthy son-in-law rather than getting Phee or Eve involved. He felt that this was a much less messy way of doing things and wouldn't unnecessarily upset the girls. He thought he was making progress too when John had finally given his blessing for their marriage.

If their sitting-room conversation was anything to go by, however, he was definitely wrong. To make matters even worse, prior to arriving at Tawny Brooks he had come up with a little plan to develop a better relationship with his future father-in-law.

Now that John was retired, he thought it might be a good opportunity to bond with the man in his free time.

‘You know,' Phoebe had told him a few months earlier, ‘there are so many golf clubs in this region. Why don't you join one with him? I think he'd be really into that. He's always expressed an interest.'

Well! Idiot that he was, he thought he'd go one step further than that. He thought he'd buy his future father-in-law an expensive gift to go with his proposal. It would be a surprise. A surprise he was sure would please Phoebe as well. Now he wished he'd told her about it first.

That morning after breakfast, he had waited for John to get back from his morning walk. Everyone else left to get started on the restaurant. He'd stayed behind in Phoebe's father's study with a very large, very expensive set of golf clubs.

‘Er … hi, John.'

‘What are you doing in here?'

‘Just waiting for you.'

John's expression darkened. ‘You wanted to say something to me?'

Spider cleared his throat. ‘I wanted to try to assure you, again, that I have nothing but Phoebe's best interests at heart. After last night, I feel like you still don't believe me.'

‘I see.'

His response was so short and vague that Spider had to fill the silence that fell between them. ‘And I also wanted to say …'

‘Go on.'

‘That I'm hoping that we can be friends. Phoebe said you were interested in getting into golf. So I thought it might be a good way to spend some time together.' He tried for a smile but it was not returned. ‘Anyway,' he continued quickly, ‘to that end, I have bought you a gift.'

He stood back to present the clubs in their leather bag. John grunted, his eyebrows twitching together as he went over to examine them, lifting and replacing each of the shiny clubs with slow precision.

Hope grew in Spider's chest. He cleared his throat. ‘Do you like them?'

John dropped the last club back into the bag. ‘I'm left-handed,' he announced and walked out of the room, leaving Spider standing there with his mouth open. Not only had his gift not been appreciated, he'd completely stuffed it up. It seemed he couldn't do anything right, or should he say
left
.

Suffice it to say, by the time he arrived at the restaurant that morning, he had a severe chip on his shoulder. He did his best to ignore it, biding his time till he might have a moment alone with Phoebe. He was dying to ask her what the hell was going on and demand her support.

It was a difficult morning, but he got through it. Lunch as well, which wasn't half bad. Afterwards, he decided he needed a hot drink. He wasn't a big tea drinker but recently had got into the herbal stuff. So he'd rummaged through the tea jar in search of some camomile. He thought it might help calm his nerves. He was just lifting the steaming cup to his mouth when Phoebe finally came over and requested a moment alone with him.

‘I thought you'd never ask.' He sighed in relief and indicated the back door to the restaurant. ‘Shall we?'

She nodded curtly, her eyes following the cup of tea in his hands as they walked out the door. The second they were outside and out of earshot, she said, ‘What do you think you're doing?'

‘Huh?'

‘You heard me.'

‘Wait.' He paused, sensing their minds weren't in the same place. ‘Don't tell me, you're mad at me?'

‘Of course I'm mad at you.' She put her hands on her hips. ‘What are you doing with that cup of tea?'

He looked down at the mug in his hands. ‘Drinking it. What does it look like?'

‘But you don't like tea.'

‘Yes, I do.'

‘Since when?'

‘Since recently. What the hell does it matter?'

Her expression darkened. ‘It just seems kinda
convenient
for a man who doesn't like tea to all of a sudden get an interest in the tea jar by the window.'

He gaped at her. ‘I don't get it.'

‘Next you'll be off to the Wildwood Bakery to get a sausage roll.'

He choked back a laugh. ‘You're not making any sense at all.'

‘Aren't I?'

Spider shut his eyes briefly before taking a deep breath. ‘Phee, you haven't been making any sense for a while now. I've watched you withdraw further and further from me every day. Ever since we got engaged, in fact.'

‘No, I haven't.'

‘Yes, you have,' he argued, knowing how important it was that he made this point. ‘I don't feel like this wedding is about us any more.'

There was a telltale hesitation. ‘What are you talking about?'

‘I'm talking about the fact that we're renovating your family's restaurant and dividing up wedding chores like it's a fun game to keep them all happy.'

‘Weddings are about family.'

‘Not to the exclusion of the bloody couple,' he cried. ‘I wanted our wedding to be our day, our event and our celebration. I wanted to decide things together with you.'

‘You said you were fine with whatever I decided.'

‘Because I know our tastes are similar and I wanted
you
to be happy.' He rubbed his temple. ‘I didn't think you were going to delegate big decisions to your family or that I'd be picking out jobs from a hat with everyone else.' He kicked a pebble with his big toe and muttered, ‘Anyone but you would get this.'

She seemed to pounce on his last remark. ‘What do you mean
anyone
but me?'

He looked up. ‘I just mean most people would understand where I'm coming from.'

‘Most people?' Her eyes narrowed. ‘Like another woman, you mean?'

He threw up his hands. ‘Like anyone, Phee. Don't you think we should be choosing our own music and picking our own celebrant and hiring our own decorator who understands
our
taste?'

Her voice became small and cold as ice. ‘So you want me to tell everyone to stop helping when I specifically asked them to come one month early to assist with the wedding?'

‘No.' Spider shook his head. ‘It was to help with the restaurant, not the wedding.'

‘It was both,' Phee insisted. ‘Telling them to back off now will just cause a scene. My sisters will be hurt and my mother will think badly of you.'

‘So?' Spider demanded. ‘None of them like me anyway.'

She gasped. ‘Spider, that's not true. I don't know where this is coming from.'

‘No, you wouldn't know, would you?' he accused. ‘You've been very happy to just ignore it.'

‘Spider, you're completely overacting. You can't honestly expect me to tell my family to stop helping with the wedding when it's taking place in their own home.'

‘They are interfering too much.'

She glared at him. ‘
So is your mother
. I don't want to put any unnecessary stress on anyone, especially my parents.'

His heart squeezed. ‘But you're more than happy to do it to me.'

‘That's not what I meant.' She wrung her hands. ‘Look, I have my reasons for getting everyone so involved. I told you that I wanted to bring the family closer together. Especially now.'

‘Closer together, yes,' he agreed. ‘But it's more than that, Phee, isn't it?'

She chewed on her lower lip, watching him uncertainly like she was trying to figure out whether he was someone she could trust.
How did we get here?

‘Look,' she began desperately, ‘you know having the wedding here is important to me. Please let's just do it and when the wedding is over life will go back to the way it was.'

Spider shut his eyes, gripping his cup of tea. ‘Don't you see how that's not what I want? I don't want to have to
get through
my own wedding. Just tell me what's going on, Phee. If you would just confide in me then maybe I could help you. Maybe we could do this together, like we're supposed to.'

When he opened his eyes, she was staring at his mug. ‘It's not like you aren't keeping secrets from me as well,' she muttered.

He slowly lowered his hands. ‘What did you say?'

‘I said,' she lifted her chin, ‘it's not like you aren't keeping secrets from me with your sudden interest in tea, for example.'

He looked heavenward. ‘You don't want me to drink tea? Fine. I won't drink the bloody tea.' He tipped the remaining contents of his mug in the dirt before shoving it back in her hands. ‘But this is not how I want our wedding to be, let alone our marriage. I love you but there's gotta be some compromise. A little give and take, huh?'