More Than Need You (More Than Words 2)

“Probably not. You need to rethink your strategy because you can’t use the most effective tool at your disposal.” He gestures vaguely below my waist. “Your, um…tool.”

It sucks, but Britta has to want to end her relationship with Makaio before she can be mine. That makes my “tool” useless right now. Damn it.

“Thanks for the insight. I’ll figure it out.” I’ve got to. “What about you two?”

“Me and Keeley? Thankfully, I don’t have any competition for her affection, so my tool is getting lots of action.” He winks.

“Eww.” Lucky bastard that he gets to worship the woman he loves. “I mean did you two set a date?”

“Oh. Not yet. But I can’t let you beat me to the altar.”

We’ve always been competitive. Dad ingrained that into us. Maxon wasn’t my brother; he was my competition, and I should want to squash him in all endeavors. But of course, since he’s three years older than me, I’m not surprised he feels as if he has to do everything, including getting married, first.

“Yeah, I guess you better hurry up and tie the knot,” I drawl. “You’re almost eligible to apply for your AARP card.”

“Oh, fuck you.” He punches my shoulder. “I just don’t want to wait. I know Keeley is the woman I want to spend my life with. I’m trying to convince her that we should do it on the beach in front of our new house before she gets too busy being an innkeeper to sink her teeth into a wedding.”

“Makes sense. Britta really will help her.”

“Speaking of which, I hope they had a good time shopping today. And that they’re making friends.”

We both know how uncomfortable our lives will be if they don’t. Britta and Tiffanii mixed like champagne and turpentine.

“I hope Keeley vouches for my new and improved character.”

Maxon is both rolling his eyes and laughing when Keeley breezes into the office with smiles for me and kisses for my brother.

“How was it?” I rush to ask before she’s even had time to sit down.

“Actually, it went really well. Now that she doesn’t think you’re nailing me, she’s very sweet.” Then Keeley sends me a disapproving stare. “And very torn. She seemed all right when I talked to her yesterday morning. Today? Whatever you did to her, she’s a mess.”

“It’s complicated.” The engagement ring I bought is wearing a hole in the sock drawer in our bedroom. I’m waiting for the day I can slip it on Britta’s finger, but I don’t say anything now. Keeley will tell me to slow down and be gentle. I can’t. “We’ll have to work it out over the next forty-eight days. So what did you two do?”

“I know a subject change when I hear one.” She reaches into her purse and pulls out a handwritten page, then begins pointing at each line as she hands it over. “This is the name of a bridal boutique we went to. Since the wedding is coming up so quickly, I encouraged her to try on some sample dresses—just for fun, you know.”

Because Makaio’s mother will have picked out traditional Hawaiian garb—a white muumuu—for Britta to wear. It’s completely not her style. She likes clothes with structure and shape, more formfitting, that show the lean lines of her body. She’s also not the sort who will want a crown of flowers in her hair or a lei around her neck. She won’t want someone blowing a conch shell, either. It’s no disrespect to Makaio’s culture. It’s just that he’s not doing anything to accommodate her wishes or beliefs.

“And?”

Keeley’s smile is full of excitement. “She found a sample dress in her size that looks ah-mazing. Which is great because she can buy it off the rack since you don’t have the six months it takes to order from the designer. It needs a little repair on the beadwork, but the shop has a tailor on-site. Other than that, the dress fits perfectly. Call them quickly. I had them hold it for you. I’ll pick it up Monday.”

I lean in to kiss her cheek. “You’re fantastic. Anything else?”

“The bridal shop recommended a photographer, a caterer, and a florist. I picked up business cards, so on my way over here, I made a few calls. I set up appointments with all these people to talk to you on the phone next week. During my lunch with Britta, I spread out all the bridal magazines available at the drugstore. I bought them last night so she could point out to me things she liked. So now I know what sort of arrangements, food, and cakes she’s interested in. It was a really productive day.”

I’m beyond pleased. “I can’t thank you enough. This is going to work.”

She nods my way. “It just might.”

“Did you plan anything for our wedding, sunshine? You got the ball rolling for my bonehead brother, but you have an eager groom here…” Maxon all but growls.

“As a matter of fact, I did.”

“I have to beat this asshole to the altar.” Maxon points my way.

“How does April eighth sound? That’s the week before his wedding…”

My brother pauses. “I’d rather do it in March. The fourth sounds perfect.”

“That’s next Saturday, Maxon,” Keeley objects. “I’m already doing this last minute.”

“Then why is it still taking weeks?”

We all laugh and discuss details a bit more. Since I brought the magazines Britta discarded, I quiz Keeley on things my angel seemed drawn to. The visuals give me a point of reference, and at the end, I’m sure I’m closer to making Britta my wife.

When the sun starts sliding toward the horizon and shadows begin to fill the office, I glance at my watch and frown. “Where are Britta and Jamie?”

Keeley showed up nearly an hour ago, and I didn’t think they would be far behind. She mentioned a run to the drugstore earlier but…

“Oh, Jamie didn’t go with us today. One of his daycare teachers agreed to watch him since a bridal shop isn’t really a place to take a toddler.”

I want to object that I could have spent today with him, that I would have been thrilled for the time with my boy…but I had to work. I grind my teeth at the missed opportunity. But Jamie is all boy, and the image of sticky hands and slobber on satin tells me Keeley is right. “Good call.”

“Britta said she would meet you at the Stowe mansion later.”

Not at home.

I know the building isn’t actually our home. It never will be. But my home is wherever Britta is. Wherever Jamie is.

The conversation brings full circle the fact that she hasn’t chosen me. It’s possible she never will.

But that’s not Keeley’s fault, so I suck it up and smile. “Thanks.”

The lovebirds leave the office hand in hand, still debating about a suitable wedding date. Maxon concedes that planning something as important as a ceremony commencing the rest of their life together might require more than six days. So he’s willing to wait a whole additional week.

I laugh and head home, mentally prowling through the refrigerator to decide what we might have for dinner.

When I pull into the enormous garage and head inside the house, Britta is already there making something with salmon. I smell jasmine rice steaming.

I set my keys down as I watch her bustle around the kitchen and Jamie curled up on the sofa with her iPad and a cartoon, his thumb in his mouth. “Hi, angel.”

She moved freely until I made my presence known. Now she seems guarded, sending me sidelong glances as she begins to toss a salad. “Hi. Good day? Did the couple from Seattle decide to buy a condo?”

“They said they’ll call me Monday, but my gut says yes.” I want to go to her, wrap my arms around her, kiss the nape she exposed when she lifted her golden tresses into a messy bun.

Maxon’s warning that Britta won’t be able to handle cheating echoes through my head.

I really am screwed.

“Good. Keeley and I had a great day. All my friends from college are on the mainland, and other than Emily, the woman you met at the park, my neighborhood wasn’t exactly filled with single women I had a lot in common with. Girl time was nice. Really nice.”