on for the past twenty minutes, in which Simon had managed to eat every bite of shepherd’s pie on Isabelle’s plate. There’d been a lot of coy looks between them, but Vaughn had pretended to be oblivious to the whole thing—just like he was pretending to be oblivious to Little Miss Sneaky Drinks across the table, on Isabelle’s other side.
To be fair, Sidney at least managed to be subtler in the charade, with the sleight-of-hand routine she had going on with Isabelle’s wine. She’d taken a few sips from each of their glasses, seemingly with neither of his parents being the wiser. But, apparently, these three also believed they were fooling
him
, an FBI agent, and for that Vaughn didn’t know whether to be amused or insulted. Perhaps a little of both.
After lunch, Sidney and Isabelle offered to help with the dishes, while the three men headed out to the backyard. Vaughn and Simon planned to re-shingle the shed roof that weekend, undoubtedly with a whole lot of micromanaging from their retired-carpenter father, who’d been strictly forbidden by their mother to undertake any strenuous labor after his heart attack six months ago.
“I called in all the supplies at McGovern’s,” their dad said, referring to the local hardware store. “You can take my truck to pick everything up.”
Simon nodded. “Sidney and Isabelle can follow us into town so they can get settled in at the hotel.”
“Assuming your mother will let you pry those girls from this house,” Adam said. “You should have seen her these past two weeks. I think all of Apple Canyon has heard about her son and his
fiancée
.” He looked proudly at Simon. “We’re happy for you, son. Isabelle seems like a wonderful girl.”
Simon answered without any hesitation. “She is, Dad.”
For a moment, Vaughn caught himself wondering what it felt like to be
that
certain—to know, without a doubt, that he’d found the one person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Between Simon’s getting married and suddenly having a baby on the way, Vaughn would’ve expected his brother to be in a mild-to-moderate state of panic. But instead, Simon seemed completely calm about the whole thing.
Vaughn watched as his dad pulled Simon in for a hug and patted him heartily on the back in congratulations. He smiled at that, then left them to their father-son moment while he headed back inside the house to grab the keys to his dad’s truck.
Enough of the sentimentality—he, at least, had a shed to re-shingle.
• • •
A HALF HOUR later, Vaughn and Simon stood in the driveway, leaning against their father’s pickup truck and waiting as the women said their temporary good-byes in the doorway. Vaughn’s gaze fell on the cute curve of Sidney’s ass as she laughed at something his mother said.
“Mom really seems to like her,” Simon said.
Vaughn grunted, having noticed this, too. Seemingly, the elder Sinclair sister was perfectly capable of piling on the charm for anyone except him. “I think she won Mom over the minute she diced that tomato.”
“Talking about Isabelle again.”
Obviously.
Vaughn tore his eyes away from the saucy auburn-haired woman who was here, in his parents’ house, winning them over with her smiles and making them laugh with her self-deprecating,
I-thought-it-was-a-self-defense-course
jokes. It was a good thing she was heading to the hotel for a few hours, because he needed a break—a break from those legs, and the blue-green eyes, and the flirty wrap dress that tied at her waist, and could easily be undone with one sharp tug.
He was thinking things again.
A few minutes later, the four of them were finally on their way, with Sidney’s car once again following behind him. Vaughn took the shortest route to town, a twenty-minute drive along hilly, winding roads.
They pulled into the driveway of Carter Mansion, a Victorian-style bed-and-breakfast where the Sinclair sisters would be spending the night. As soon as
To be fair, Sidney at least managed to be subtler in the charade, with the sleight-of-hand routine she had going on with Isabelle’s wine. She’d taken a few sips from each of their glasses, seemingly with neither of his parents being the wiser. But, apparently, these three also believed they were fooling
him
, an FBI agent, and for that Vaughn didn’t know whether to be amused or insulted. Perhaps a little of both.
After lunch, Sidney and Isabelle offered to help with the dishes, while the three men headed out to the backyard. Vaughn and Simon planned to re-shingle the shed roof that weekend, undoubtedly with a whole lot of micromanaging from their retired-carpenter father, who’d been strictly forbidden by their mother to undertake any strenuous labor after his heart attack six months ago.
“I called in all the supplies at McGovern’s,” their dad said, referring to the local hardware store. “You can take my truck to pick everything up.”
Simon nodded. “Sidney and Isabelle can follow us into town so they can get settled in at the hotel.”
“Assuming your mother will let you pry those girls from this house,” Adam said. “You should have seen her these past two weeks. I think all of Apple Canyon has heard about her son and his
fiancée
.” He looked proudly at Simon. “We’re happy for you, son. Isabelle seems like a wonderful girl.”
Simon answered without any hesitation. “She is, Dad.”
For a moment, Vaughn caught himself wondering what it felt like to be
that
certain—to know, without a doubt, that he’d found the one person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Between Simon’s getting married and suddenly having a baby on the way, Vaughn would’ve expected his brother to be in a mild-to-moderate state of panic. But instead, Simon seemed completely calm about the whole thing.
Vaughn watched as his dad pulled Simon in for a hug and patted him heartily on the back in congratulations. He smiled at that, then left them to their father-son moment while he headed back inside the house to grab the keys to his dad’s truck.
Enough of the sentimentality—he, at least, had a shed to re-shingle.
• • •
A HALF HOUR later, Vaughn and Simon stood in the driveway, leaning against their father’s pickup truck and waiting as the women said their temporary good-byes in the doorway. Vaughn’s gaze fell on the cute curve of Sidney’s ass as she laughed at something his mother said.
“Mom really seems to like her,” Simon said.
Vaughn grunted, having noticed this, too. Seemingly, the elder Sinclair sister was perfectly capable of piling on the charm for anyone except him. “I think she won Mom over the minute she diced that tomato.”
“Talking about Isabelle again.”
Obviously.
Vaughn tore his eyes away from the saucy auburn-haired woman who was here, in his parents’ house, winning them over with her smiles and making them laugh with her self-deprecating,
I-thought-it-was-a-self-defense-course
jokes. It was a good thing she was heading to the hotel for a few hours, because he needed a break—a break from those legs, and the blue-green eyes, and the flirty wrap dress that tied at her waist, and could easily be undone with one sharp tug.
He was thinking things again.
A few minutes later, the four of them were finally on their way, with Sidney’s car once again following behind him. Vaughn took the shortest route to town, a twenty-minute drive along hilly, winding roads.
They pulled into the driveway of Carter Mansion, a Victorian-style bed-and-breakfast where the Sinclair sisters would be spending the night. As soon as
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