Never Say Never (McLaughlin Brothers Book 3) Read online

We start singing along, matching harmonies. I’ll take her to a club in this car—I picture the line of people watching in blatant envy as I pull up in my sexy ride with the most beautiful woman on earth on my arm.

  Brooke is so interested in playing with the gadgets that she doesn’t pay much attention to my route. I snake down Bethany Home and pull into an older neighborhood, halting before a brick bungalow with a wide yard and tall trees. The trees shade the house from the westering sun, sending coolness over us as I roll into the driveway.

  Brooke looks around in surprise, but not alarm. She probably assumes I’m running an errand for McLaughlin Renovations. “Oh, cute house. Who lives here?”

  I fish a key out of my pocket and hold it out to her. “You do.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Brooke

  I stare at the keys in Austin’s hand. He doesn’t move, his face expressionless.

  I’m not sure I heard him right. I dart a glance at the house. It’s small and brick and old—that’s all I know about historic houses. But it’s adorable. The small porch has a roof that curves in a J-shape from gable to eave. The green front door is arched, and the brick walkway is lined with purple, pink, and scarlet vincas for summer.

  I clear my throat, which is dry and parched. “What do you mean, it’s mine?”

  “Your name is on the deed. You’ll need to sign some papers, but I thought you might want to look it over first.”

  “Look it over …” I flick my gaze again at the house and back to Austin. He’s serious. “Why the hell are you giving me a house?”

  “Because yours is crap,” Austin says without blinking. “No offense.”

  I open and close my mouth a few times. “You can’t buy me a house.”

  “You bought me a car.”

  “I didn’t buy it for you, I—”

  He stops my words with his fingers. “Will it make you feel better if I say I didn’t buy this for you? We’re always picking up properties no one wants. We got this at an auction when it was abandoned. I was already fixing it up for the hell of it, but I thought—who do I know who needs a house? Oh yeah. Brooke. At least I can offer it to her.”

  For some reason I need to keep arguing. “You can’t. Your family will be out the money for the bid and the renovation—”

  Again, Austin touches my lips. “I’ve already talked this over with them. Mom and Dad know you won’t be thrilled taking a gift, so they said you can pay back the renovation cost with whatever you get from your house when you sell it. You know, if you decide to sell it and take this one.”

  Though Austin’s voice is quiet, sincerity radiates from him.

  Before our sort-of reconciliation, I’d have believed he was trying to one-up me for the down-payment I made for this car. Challenging me.

  Today I’m reading that he genuinely wants me to have this. That he’s convinced his family the house will be perfect for me, to help me out.

  I’m still uncertain, but I gently take the keys from his hand. “How about we go inside?”

  Austin relaxes but only partly. He opens the detached garage’s door with a remote and parks inside. He charges from the car and around to my door to escort me out, which makes me want to laugh.

  He guides me to the house’s front door, and I unlock it. Together we step inside.

  I love the place immediately. The small entrance foyer has a stained glass door opening into the rest of the house. Beyond that a square hall leads to a living room, dining room, kitchen, and back porch, with a small staircase to a second floor. Soft white walls, cove molding, and wood accents greet me.

  The kitchen is a single room, not a galley. The appliances are new, sparkling, and probably work far better than mine ever will. A large table sits in the middle like a kitchen island, with a couple of chairs pulled up to it.

  I might decide to learn cooking if I can do it in this kitchen. Austin follows me in and starts talking up the appliances as though I know what any of his jargon means.

  “You have a convection cooktop, with a warming burner in the back, and touch controls. French door refrigerator, and a farmhouse sink. And here …” He opens a door about four inches thick and waves to a dark, deep cupboard. “Wine cellar. Or at least the closest thing to it. Plenty of slots for reds and a cooler to chill your whites.”

  Now this, I understand. I examine the cupboard and see several bottles of wine already in place.

  “Don’t tell me Simon gave you those.” I touch a bottle of Côte de Rhone.

  “Nope. These are from me.”

  Austin says it so quietly that I know he took time and trouble to pick out exactly what I’d like. For some reason, I tear up.

  “What’s upstairs?” I say brightly, shutting the door.

  Austin leads me back to the hall. The other rooms are unfurnished, but I see possibilities. The living room has a fireplace, which will be cozy the few nights of the year it’s cold enough to build one. The long porch in the back beckons, and I see chairs and a small yard with more cheerful flowers.

  “Who put in the garden?” I ask.

  “Mom thought it would be a good idea. Abby and Calandra picked out the flowers for you.”

  My heart warms even more. His whole family plus my best friends have been in on this.

  Swallowing the lump in my throat, I ascend the staircase. At the top is a landing with a window looking out above the front door. Up here are two bedrooms, one with an attached bathroom, and a smaller bathroom off the landing. The largest bedroom has a view of the back garden, with a line of trees screening the house from the back-door neighbor.

  There’s a bed in this room, done up in white comforters. The sun is setting, bathing everything in a golden glow.

  “It’s beautiful,” I say softly.

  “Glad you think so. Keep the keys. The house is yours.”

  I turn to him. Austin is silhouetted against the light from the window, his strength outlined.

  “Why did you do this?” I ask. “The real answer.”

  “Because I thought you’d like it.” Austin closes the distance between us, gazing down at me with his intense eyes. “You fit here.”

  “Like you fit with the car?”

  “Exactly.” Austin takes my hands and raises them to his lips. “I want you to have someplace to be happy.”

  I gape at him for a second, and then the tears well. “That’s so wonderful. Why would you— After I— We—”

  “Shh.” Austin squeezes my hands. “This is a gift from one friend to another.”

  Now I’m bawling. I fling myself at him and hold him tight.

  “Oof. Does this mean you want to stay?”

  “Don’t laugh.” I pull away. “Stop being so wonderful, you… you… shit.” I snatch up a pillow from the bed and smack him with it. The pillow is so nice, that I hug it to myself.

  Then he’s hugging me, the pillow between us, as I kiss Austin. And kiss him.

  When we finally draw apart, the pillow falls. Austin catches it and tosses it to the bed.

  “Is there a reason the only piece of furniture in this house is a bed?” I ask, my whole body humming.

  Austin shrugs. “You need a place to sleep. Plus, there’s the kitchen table.”

  “A place to sleep and to eat. What more do I need?”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  I glance at the bed. “We should make sure it’s comfortable.”

  “Guess we should.”

  Austin’s grin melts everything cold left inside me. He’s always been there for me, I realize, even if from afar. We never said good-bye when we’d broken up, maybe because we both knew in our hearts it wouldn’t be forever. Somehow we’d gravitate to each other again, no matter how much we tried to stay away.

  Austin understands what I need, and completes me in ways I never expected. I understand the parts of him he hides from everyone else—the compassionate, caring man he truly is.

  For a moment, we regard each other, each with our own thoughts. Then I
let out a growl and launch myself at him. Austin laughs and catches me in his arms.

  Next, we’re tearing each other’s clothes off—literal tearing at some points—until we fall onto the welcoming bed. Austin remembered to bring condoms, of course. I’ve started carrying some too, just in case. We have fun getting him ready.

  Now, Austin’s on me, gazing down at me. I see the kindness in him, which he will forever deny, always pretending to be the goof. But he looks after everyone, even if they don’t realize it.

  “Austin,” I whisper.

  “Shh.” He kisses me, probably thinking I want to argue more about the house.

  “I need to tell you something.”

  “Later.” Austin nibbles my neck, which is distracting, but I persist. If I don’t say it, I’ll regret it.

  I touch his face, guiding him to look at me again. “I need to tell you now.” I take a breath. “I love you.”

  Austin stills. Will he gape in horror and run away? Or laugh at me?

  After a long, tense moment, Austin exhales and wipes his brow. “Whew! I’m glad you said that, because I was going to tell you I love you. I wasn’t sure how you’d react.”

  “I wasn’t sure how you’d react.”

  “Well, damn.” He shakes his head. “We have got to stop being afraid to talk to each other.”

  I lace my arms around his neck. “Agreed.”

  “So.” Austin gently kisses my lips. “How about I go next. I love you, Brooke.”

  “I love you, Austin.” Now that I’ve said it, I like saying it. I look forward to saying it again.

  “I’m going to tell you that every day,” he says. “A couple of times, probably. Will that bother you?”

  My heart is light, happy. “Not at all.”

  “Good. I’ll probably yell it a few times in the next hour.”

  “Hour? Is that all?”

  Austin growls, his eyes glinting. “Oh, you will pay for that, my love.”

  “Mmm. Sounds fun.”

  Austin clasps my wrists and kisses me, his weight sinking me into what is a very comfortable bed. He slides inside me and starts to love me, taking me rapidly into pure pleasure.

  “I love you.” Austin says it with low intensity. “Love you.”

  “I love you, Austin.” I hold him, touch him, kiss him, and join with him until we’re shouting the words at the tops of our voices.

  We wind down, the house cradling us, and we whisper it as we drowse in our newfound understanding.

  Austin

  Brooke is beautiful in the morning. I know she won’t believe me, so I say nothing, but I enjoy her mussed hair and sleepy face as she stumbles to the bathroom for a shower.

  Abby, Erin, and Calandra, at my request, have stocked the bathroom with the right shampoo, conditioner, and other things Brooke uses. They had fun shopping for her.

  “You thought of everything,” Brooke’s voice sings back to me.

  “Me and my posse, yes.”

  Brooke pokes her head out the door. “Posse?”

  I tuck my hands behind me and watch her. “Friends and family. People you know and love.”

  Her eyes fill. “Why is everyone being so nice to me?”

  “I don’t know. We love you?”

  “Stop it.” Brooke wipes her eyes. “I’m taking a shower now.”

  I see the invitation in her eyes, but if I join her, we’ll be in there far too long, and she’ll be embarrassed about what comes next. Last thing I want right now is Brooke embarrassed.

  I wave her off, and once the door is closed, I dive out of bed.

  I have a quick wash in the second bathroom, combing my hair and dressing with stuff from the overnight bag I’d stashed in the other bedroom. I have a change of clothes for Brooke too, courtesy of Calandra. I don’t have time to shave, but I’ll have to live with that.

  I leave the bag in the master bedroom for Brooke and dash downstairs to fix coffee. The shelves in the kitchen are well stocked, and I start breakfast. I’ll need to make a lot of food.

  By the time the shower goes off upstairs, I’m up to my eyeballs in pancakes and bacon, toast and eggs. Brooke enters the kitchen not long later, dressed in shorts and a sleeveless top. She makes straight for the coffee I’ve brewed, and not until she’s sipping does she realize how much I’ve cooked.

  “I’m not that hungry,” she says. “Though maybe you are.”

  She saunters over and laces one arm around me. I can’t resist turning and kissing her coffee-flavored lips.

  “We shouldn’t do this,” I murmur, kissing her again.

  “Why not? We’ll have all this food to sustain us.”

  “Because …” I trail off as I hear car doors slamming, and voices raised in anticipation.

  Brooke hastens to the window, which looks out to the front yard. “What the hell?”

  I step behind her and motion the mob inside. I’ve left the front door unlocked for them.

  “Good morning.” Ryan leads the pack through the house to the kitchen. He waves a bottle of champagne. “Happy housewarming!”

  He’s followed by Calandra then Ben and Zach with their ladies. My mom and dad enter with Great Aunt Mary and Andrew, and then Viola and Craig Marsh, and Cedric.

  “Great house, sis,” Cedric booms. “Happy housewarming.”

  “How did you all even know I’d accept it?” Brooke says, eyes shining. She’s overwhelmed by the gift baskets, hugs, and kisses.

  “We didn’t,” Cedric answers. “Austin said he’d warn us off if you told him to go fly a kite. He didn’t say a word, so we figured you loved the place, and we’re here.”

  “This is crazy.” Brooke turns to me. “Something only you would do.”

  “That’s me. Ca-razy.” I turn back to the stove and start serving up food. “There’s not a lot of furniture, so you’ll all have to eat wherever you can find a spot. Calandra gets a chair.”

  “I’m pregnant, not feeble,” Calandra says, but Ryan pulls out a kitchen chair and makes sure Calandra sits.

  Brooke hugs Calandra. “Thank you, sweetie. I know you are responsible for me being able to clean up and wear the right clothes.”

  Brooke’s not ashamed that everyone knows she and I spent the night together. She rolls with things like that, another trait of hers I love.

  Zach and Abby make mimosas with the champagne and hand them out. I serve the food, and we break into groups to eat, sitting on floors, on the stairs, on the patio—it’s cool in the shade this morning. Everyone praises my cooking, but I think they’re mellowed by the mimosas. I’m a functional chef, not an innovative one.

  Calandra and Brooke discuss what kind of furniture she can put in the house, and the two vow to go shopping together. Brooke says she’ll trash all her old stuff or donate it to charity.

  She seems relieved, and not certain why she’s lived in her rundown house for so long. She hadn’t paid attention to it, I knew. She could have afforded a beautiful condo or bigger house on her own, but she’d not taken the time or trouble.

  Now she’s an excited new homeowner. I’m glad I can give her something from my heart. Ryan was right about matching the grand gesture to what Brooke needed.

  Not that I’m finished. I carry my dishes to the sink and start soaking them. I’ll clean up in here so Brooke, the queen of the day, won’t have to.

  I step out to the patio where she’s deep into an animated conversation with my mom and hers. I interrupt, take her by the hand, and lead her to the center of the yard, among the colorful plants that Abby had said were the right touch.

  I wave for attention. “Thanks everyone for coming.” I wait for the stragglers to emerge from the house, interested in what I’m doing. I raise Brooke’s hand. She’s self-conscious but doesn’t pull away. “Let’s hear it for Brooke and her beautiful abode.”

  Mimosa glasses are raised. “To Brooke and her beautiful abode?” Voices tumble over one another, and there’s laughter and glass-clinking.

  “One more
thing.” I swallow, my throat tight. “I’m not sure what Brooke will think of this, but you know me. I never say never.”

  Before Brooke can ask what the hell I’m talking about, I sink to one knee.

  She drags in a breath. “Austin. What …?”

  The others try to quiet themselves, but there’s much murmuring followed by Shh, shh, shh from others. It takes a while for them to settle down. Meanwhile, Brooke is staring at me from wide, beautiful dark eyes, her face creased with shock.

  “You have a great new life,” I say, taking Brooke’s stiff hands. “You own your own business, and now, this spectacular house.” Chuckles float from the porch. “Would you consider adding one more new thing? A husband? I mean me,” I clarify quickly.

  “I—” Brooke eyes me wildly, her lips parted.

  “No, let me finish this the right way.” I clear my throat and speak so all our family and friends can hear me. “Brooke Marsh, will you marry me?”

  Brooke

  He’s serious. I gaze down at Austin, the man I love, with his generous heart and amazing smiles. I think of all we’ve been through, and what we’ve survived. It has always been Austin for me, no matter what, whether we were tight together or nearly two years apart.

  I feel the smile spread across my face. “Yes,” I say, then I shout it to the crowd on the porch. “Yes!”

  Austin’s on his feet, kissing me, arms around me. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” I say again, laughter on my lips as my family and my best friends surge around us. “I never say never.”

  “Neither of us do.”

  “How about I say I love you instead?” I ask, my whole body trembling in newfound happiness.

  “Suits me.”

  Austin holds me, and though family and friends have joined us, we might be the only two people on the planet.

  “I love you, Austin McLaughlin,” I whisper so only he can hear.

  “I love you, Brooke Marsh.”

  As Austin kisses me, our families tease the hell out of us and toast us, which is fine with me. I’m surrounded by love and laughter, and know I’m exactly where I belong.