A Win-Win Proposition (Case Brothers 2)

Sebastian saluted Matt as he drove away. Hat in hand, he entered the house, eager to talk to Missy. Earlier, when she’d taken his hand and traced the lines on his palm, the simple touch had aroused so much more than his libido. If her brothers hadn’t been standing nearby he’d have taken her in his arms and kissed her until she promised to love, honor and cherish him until death did they part.

Not that he was convinced that she’d have him after what he’d said to her.

The turn-of-the-century house contained an empty stillness as he entered. Wood floors creaked beneath his step as he headed for the back door. He paused in the kitchen for a glass of water and caught sight of Missy in the backyard, hoe in hand, tackling the weedy flowerbeds. He stepped onto the back porch to better admire the wiggle of her rear end in denim shorts as she dropped to hands and knees to attack the weeds crowded too close to the perennials to remove with the tool.

He released a sigh. The woman was flat out delightful no matter what angle she presented. Although he admitted a keen appreciation for the sight of her round backside thrust into the air. Grinning, he started down the steps for a closer look.

“You all done with the roof?” She straightened to a kneeling position and smudged her forehead with dirt as she wiped sweat from her brow.

How long had she been aware of him? Did she sense his nearness the same way he noticed hers? As if some invisible cord connected them to each other?

“We finished half an hour ago.” He sat down beside her. “Looks like you have your work cut out for you.”

“No one has time to keep it up since I left.” She returned to her weeding. “Gardening was my mother’s love. She designed and planted all these beds. After her stroke, she couldn’t take care of them anymore so I took over.” She attacked the invasive plants as if they personally offended her. “I used to hate working in the garden. It would take hours to weed even a single bed. The stupid things seemed to grow ten inches overnight. Mulching helps, but they still find a way in.”

“Some things are like that, finding ways to thrive where they’re not wanted.” He longed to touch her, to get her to take down the wall she’d erected to keep him at bay.

“My mom was the most giving and kind person on the planet. Everyone loved her.” She stabbed at the soil with her trowel, loosened a weed’s roots from its hold, and flung it aside. The act seemed cathartic. As if she was ridding herself of stuff that bothered her. “She and I never got along. I suppose that makes me sound like a bad person.”

She’d never talked about her mother except to say she’d had a stroke around the time Missy had turned fifteen and died almost ten years later.

“My dad and I don’t, either,” Sebastian said. “It’s not unusual to get along better with one parent than another.”

“My dad loved me unconditionally when I was growing up. It was my mom who was always trying to turn me into someone different.”

“Different how?”

“Less tomboy, more young lady.” Missy snorted. “I don’t know why she expected me to act like a girl when all I wanted to do was run with my brothers and do everything they did.” She drove the trowel into the dirt and sat back to dust off her knees. “See these scars? I got those jumping my bike off the ramp my brothers built in the parking lot behind the church. Busted my arm, too.” She shook her head. “But do you think they got into trouble for daring me to try the jump? Nope. I got yelled at for doing something dangerous.”

She wrapped her arms around her legs and set her chin on her knees. “Then there was the time when I almost drowned down by the lake because I dove off the dock and went in too steep and hit my head. That was my brothers’ fault, but I got banned from the lake for the rest of the summer.”

Sebastian couldn’t stop a chuckle. “Sounds like you were lucky to survive childhood. I gotta admit, I never pegged you for a tomboy.”

“I gave it up when I turned thirteen and figured out boys didn’t date girls that could do more tricks on a bike or a sk

ateboard than they could.” Her grin came and went. “It was about that time that my mother really had her hands full with me.”

He could see where she might have attracted a lot of male attention. “You were a little wild?”

“I was all about acting like that stereotypical daughter of a minister. You know, the one who behaves badly because life at home is so restrictive? I felt smothered by expectations of how I should behave, by how small the town was. My future stretched out in front of me like a west Texas highway. Empty, flat and endless. Some days I thought I would explode if I didn’t get out of here.”

It wasn’t a stretch to imagine her full of energy and frustration.

While Sebastian threw away the pile of weeds Missy had pulled, she gathered her gardening tools and put them away in the shed. They entered the house through the back door and headed upstairs to clean up for dinner.

“My dad told me what you asked him,” Missy said as she reached her bedroom door. The way her remark came out of nowhere told Sebastian how much it had been on her mind. “It’s nice of you to offer, and all, but I can’t marry you.”

“Any reason why not?”

“You’re marrying me because I’m pregnant.”

“In part.” He cupped her face and held still until she met his gaze. “But that’s not the only reason.”

“No one expects you to do the right thing,” she said, applying pressure to his chest.

“I expect me to do the right thing.” He made sure she saw that he meant every word. “Besides, I don’t want to stay a bachelor forever. I built my house with a family in mind. I want you and our baby to be that family.”

She shook her head. “This is not the way I saw my future.”