“Brennan, I’m really sorry,”—he frowned at the sudden shift to serious—“but the storm’s brought down a couple of trees on the road out to Evie’s. That’s why I’m calling. The road is closed until they can clear it.”
Brennan’s stomach dropped at the same time his phone dinged twice in his ear.
“Hold on.” His brother, Rowan, had sent a text with a photo of a familiar tree-blocked road. He knew that spot. It was along the road to Evie’s.
“Brennan, are you there?”
“I’m here.”
He pulled up the other message. This one was from the Local Area Emergency Services app.
‘Tree down. 3 miles north on Adams Road. More to come.’
Curious. That was a different location from Rowan’s photo. Which meant either more trees had come down or?—
“Emmett’s checked in and let the Chief know you all, except you that is, are available to help, if things get worse.”
Brennan’s already heightened senses spiked further while a sense of the inevitable settled deep in his stomach. Pulling all firefighters in was usually reserved for when predictions of major storms or disasters, not just heavy snowfall. Had the forecast gotten that much worse since he’d last checked? “But the rehearsal?”
“Ethan and I canceled it. It’s not safe out there, and we don’t want to put anyone in danger by being on the roads. You’ll need to stay at Evie’s until the road is clear.”
Stay at Evie’s? In close quarters with the woman he hadn’t been able to get out of his head since Lacey introduced them when she’d brought her to one of their Sunday night family dinners? Stay with someone he could barely find the courage to talk to? Who invaded his dreams with a regularity he could count on?
“But—” A tap of heels distracted him, and he turned around. Evie stood there in a maroon dress, with black knee-high boots that pulled his attention to her long legs. His brain short-circuited to the point all he could do was stare, admire, and hope his lungs remembered how to breathe. Because he’d certainly forgotten how to listen. Lacey’s words were a buzz in his ear, like an annoying yet persistent mosquito.
“Earth to Brennan?” Lacey’s sharp tone pulled him out of his stupor.
“Sorry. Yes. I’m here.” He turned his back on Evie, not the kind of manners his mother had instilled in them, but it was the only thing he could think of doing to focus. “So, the rehearsal?”
“Canceled,” Lacey confirmed. “Weren’t you listening?”
He had been. He’d just completely lost all train of thought there for a moment. And perhaps a slim part of him had been hoping that in the last twenty seconds something had changed. Yes, he was that desperate.
“The wedding will go ahead,” Lacey said. “One way or another. We’re grown adults. If we can’t figure out how to walk down the aisle and repeat some words without a practice run, we probably shouldn’t be getting married. And if it ends up being in an office in front of a random official, then so be it.”
“I wasn’t meaning that. Lacey… you’ve planned this day for months.” The storm had to be over by Saturday. She deserved that perfect day. “I don’t want you to miss out on your dream.”
“Bren,” her voice softened. “I won’t. My dream is Ethan. Not the wedding. That’s a bonus. And one day, I hope you feel the same way about someone.”
He did. He just didn’t know what to do about it. Or if it was even a possibility. Evie’s kiss on his cheek and her lingering touch flashed through his mind. As did his rising suspicions about Lacey’s call and Rowan’s text. Not something he could dwell on right now though. “You’ll keep me updated?”
“I will. Keep Evie safe for me.”
“Of course.” Even if he became tongue-tied around the woman, there wasn’t a chance he’d let anything happen to her if it was in his power to stop it.
“She has a problem with storms. Not the snow itself, but storms. Be gentle with her. Please.”
That was a twist Brennan hadn’t seen coming. “Will do. Anything else I should know?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, sis. Be good.” Not that it would help. She was up to something. He wasn’t sure what that was … yet. He took a deep breath before turning to Evie.
“Brennan, what’s going on?”
She’d moved closer and was now barely three steps away. He forced his lungs to take another deep, calming breath, but the sweet scent of roses accompanying the oxygen didn’t help. If this was the way he responded to her in something simple, yet elegant, he predicted serious trouble headed his way at the wedding. Lacey had practically shone when she’d come home from the shopping trip and gushed over her own dress, and the equally fantastically gorgeous—Lacey’s words not his—dresses for her bridal party, which included one Evie Morgan as the Maid of Honor.
Right now, he needed to speak. Evie needed information, and he was the only one who could give it.
