Page 94 of First Bride to Fall
Grant walked over and shut the front door, leaving the back door and kitchen window open because the air was still clearing. “Want to shower first?”
“No. This time, you.” Nell peeked into the bag Misty had given her. “I can put on my dry PJs and wait for my turn. Meanwhile.” She stared at the stove top. “I’ll dispose of the Brussels sprouts.”
“Be sure to give them a decent burial,” he joked.
She got his meaning. Put them in the compost pile outdoors and not in the trash, where they’d continue to stink up the house. And they did reek. Big time.
“Will do.”
Grant grabbed some clothing from his dresser, then stepped into the bathroom, shutting the door. Nell used that opportunity to slip into the bedroom and change into her comfy flannel PJs. They were blue with polar bears on them, and they were warm and cozy after being so chilled. She put on clean socks and her fuzzy slippers, too.
She yawned. Wow. She’d exerted a lot of energy today with all that cleaning, but Grant’s flummoxed expression had been worth every muscle ache. She rubbed her sore shoulders and back—she’d used muscles today she hadn’t used in a long time. Maybe ever, when it came to the wood chopping. She chuckled to herself, pleased that she’d been pretty good at that. It was nice to enhance her skill set.
She reached the kitchen and lifted the now-cool cookie sheet holding the burned Brussels sprouts off of the stove top. Then, she pinched her nose and carried it toward the open back door. When she came back inside, the smell from the burned food had mostly dissipated, so she closed the kitchen window and back door, since it was growing chilly outside.
The water play with Grant in the backyard sure had been sexy. If that smoke alarm hadn’t gone off, he definitely would have kissed her, apparently despite trying to push her away. She’d have welcomed his kisses, too. Even as angry as she was, every inch of her body had been aching for them.
Of course, her sisters would have arrived right then. Maybe it was better that Misty and Charlotte hadn’t caught them in the middle of a hot make-out session. They didn’t need to witness Nell and Grant’s intimate interactions to guess there was chemistry between them. From the twinkle in their eyes, Charlotte and Misty had sensed it crackling through the air.
Nell’s gaze snagged on the casserole dish on the counter, and her stomach rumbled. Between all the work she’d put in today and that very small lunch, she was starving. She lifted the casserole dish lid, and delectable steam flooded her senses. Charlotte must have pulled it right out of the oven before coming here because the casserole dish was still warm.
While her dad often baked Irish dishes, their mom enjoyed making Italian, since she was part Italian on her grandmother’s side. Nell’s late Italian great-grandmother had died years ago, but the family still enjoyed many of her signature dishes. Charlotte was probably the best cook of her sisters, and she was super talented at making homemade sauce.
Nell glanced toward the bathroom, but the shower water was still running. She probably ought to wait for Grant to eat dinner, but since he supposedly didn’t eat chicken—she rolled her eyes—maybe she could go ahead and have a little.
Her belly clenched with hunger, and she looked down at her ankle, which was bothering her, too. She should probably take a few more meds for the ankle, but it would be best not to do that on an empty stomach. Nell hopped on over to the cabinet where Grant kept the dishes and removed some silverware and a spatula from a drawer.
Then she served herself a modest portion of chicken parmigiana.
Her stomach growled, and she added more pasta and another piece of breaded chicken to her plate. There. That’s better.
She doubted Grant would blame her for getting started, and she wasn’t going to eat what he was anyway. She yawned again, feeling even more exhausted than before, and carried her food and a glass of water over to the sofa, along with two ibuprofen tablets. She swallowed her painkillers first and then cut into a piece of crispy chicken, heaping that onto her fork with a swirl of al dente spaghetti coated in tangy sauce.
Oh yum.
Heaven.
The woodstove cast out its warming glow, heating her fingers and toes and making her toasty all over as she devoured her delicious dinner. The comfort food settled in her belly, leaving her happily satisfied. Really, really sleepy, too. She set her empty dinner plate on the chest and sat back against the sofa, pulling the sofa blanket over her.
Her eyelids drooped, and her head felt heavy. She didn’t want to abandon Grant, but the heat from the woodstove lulled her deeper into sleepiness and relaxation.
She slumped onto her side and curled up contentedly under the sofa blanket, settling her head down on a sofa pillow. She’d just rest here for a moment until Grant was done with his shower…
…
When Grant came out of the shower in fresh jeans and a sweater, Nell was sound asleep on the sofa, looking so pretty with her long auburn curls fanning across her face that he had to stop and catch his breath. An empty dinner plate sat on the chest beside a water glass, and he saw that she’d had some of Charlotte’s chicken parmigiana. Not that he blamed her for going ahead and eating. She had to be exhausted from all the work she did today.
He crossed his arms in front of him, admiring her beauty as well as her strength. He was still amazed that she’d chopped wood. She’d done a good job of it, too. Well, except for that one mutilated piece.
He pursed his lips, thinking about how much she’d surprised him. He’d thought for sure she would have called it quits after he handed her that toilet brush. But she hadn’t. She’d even polished the wood floors and cleaned the bathroom without complaining. Even when he’d asked the impossible of her, she’d risen to the challenge. Why? Could she really like him that much, or was this more about her dislike of Aidan?
It was obvious by the way Nell and her sisters interacted that they loved each other a ton. He guessed they loved their parents and their family business, too. Otherwise, why would they go to such extremes to prevent it from going under? He supposed Nell and her sisters were being altruistic in their own way by keeping their plans from their parents, but if he’d been their dad or mom, he’d have wanted to know.
It seemed a lot to ask of the Delaney sisters. Or, at the very least, it was a lot for them to ask of themselves, and yet they’d all entered into an agreement that one of them—the losing one—would marry Aidan to help save Bearberry Brews. Grant sighed, knowing it was a nutty plan, but his heart also ached for the way it had forced Nell’s hand. Maybe if she hadn’t had the pressure, he and she would have met and started dating in a normal way. Instead, she’d gone out there like a cowgirl on the range looking to rope a guy—and her lasso had landed around him.
Grant wanted more for himself than being somebody’s last-minute husband. Nell deserved more for herself, too. She had a bubbly sparkling spirit that would make her stand out in any crowd. A quick wit and intelligence, too. Besides that, she had a caring and compassionate side. He could imagine becoming friends with her, then more than friends; lovers. Even maybe something more.
In another universe, though. Not this one.
