One Bride for Five Brothers

“A penny for your thoughts.” Arsen raised his eyebrows.

“It would take a lot more than a penny for that.” It was her turn to smirk now.

“How about a song instead?” he said softly.

“That would work.” Eyes locked, they both were struggling to keep the smiles off their faces. Arsen was about to move to the piano when Lizzy, Mickey, and Sam entered.

“Lunch is served!” Mickey exclaimed as Sam started arranging the bowls on the table. Lizzy quickly started arranging the plates, and soon enough the rest of the party had been called back too.

The fare was not elaborate, but plentiful and tasty. Sam had used ingredients in her kitchen to cook up spaghetti, fresh pesto, and had also added garlic butter to the bakery bread she had lying in the kitchen. With the food ready on the table, everyone realized how famished they were. Before they furiously dug in, Mickey had to take pictures of the food for his Instagram. It took a lot of effort for Rory not to roll her eyes.

Halfway through the meal, Rory realized how long it had been since this room had seen so many people sitting and happily eating together. She couldn’t even recall the last time they had a dinner party in here.

Strangely, she was liking this. A bunch of people sitting in her house, singing, dancing, laughing, and eating to their heart’s content. It made her feel warm and fuzzy, even though she didn’t know these people well.

After the lunch, Sam and Lizzy cleaned up the mess that was created and for once, Rory was happy that she didn’t have to clean up after herself. While she didn’t mind it for the most part, doing chores like this every day and having no one to help got to her at times. How she wished she could hire a cleaning service every now and then.

“The storm is as good as gone,” Don remarked as he came back into the room after having a post-lunch smoke outside. “We better get going.”

“All right!” Mickey clapped his hands. “Let's get moving, people. Chop chop!” He reacted as if he were being freed from jail.

“It was so nice to meet you, Mickey. I hope to see you again.” Lizzy was sad that he was leaving. If she could, she would’ve followed him.

“Sure you will, honey. Tell you what, I’ll give you my private number so we can stay in touch.” Mickey winked.

Something feels predatory about him.

“And hey, don’t forget to follow my Instagram, @Mickey.”

“I already do, Mickey.” Lizzy was a deer in the headlights of Mickey Nicks’s leer.

He’s probably giving her some fake number to brush her off, thought Rory. The others had already started trickling out of the room, muttering polite thanks. Arsen was the last one to hop out, trying to be careful with his injured ankle.

“I hope you feel better soon,” Rory said as they walked out to the back gate. Arsen just smiled, his dimples distracting her from her thoughts.

“I guess that song will just have to wait another day,” he said, referring to their conversation earlier.

“I guess it will have to.” She smiled. Stop flirting with him! she told herself sternly.

“This is it, then…” They’d already reached the gate and Arsen was preparing to say his goodbye.

“Rory, I’d like to thank you again for the help. I appreciate it,” he said, offering his hand. This time she took it and heat rushed through her body from the strength of his contact. For a moment she felt nervous at the thought that he might engulf her in a hug, but he didn’t. Much to her dismay.

“Don’t mention it. You be on your way and go do whatever it is that you rockstars do,” she replied. Go be on your way, who the hell says that?

Arsen just smiled that dimpled smile and turned around to get into Don’s car.

Rory and Lizzy stood by the back gate, watching the fancy cars zoom away and with that, the little party that had been so much fun came to an

abrupt halt. They both walked back into the house and prepared to open the bookshop for the day. Neither wanted to and for both of them, the house seemed far too empty.

Chapter 55

Two sales and a single drawn-out sigh. Yet again, Rory was at a loss as to why the damnable T-shirts weren’t selling. Even at her most critical, she judged herself a good artist. She put a lot of work and love into what she did and yet, the products refused to move off the shelves.

If she was to have any chance of paying off the property bills, she needed sales and a lot of them. Rory carefully packaged the two T-shirts that had sold yesterday for shipping. She had more than fifty of these still in stock. At least a hundred more of many other designs lay in the basement too.

Lizzy had suggested putting up a stall by the beach and selling these for a discount, but Rory just didn’t have it in her. She wasn’t a hustler; never had been.