He pats my shoulder. “Trust me. You’ll thank me.”
I blow out a breath to calm myself down. There is no escape from this house at the moment. “Let’s just get through this brunch.”
Vaughn raises a shoulder toward his ear. “At least we have some damn good food. Having my brother stuck in a romantic cloud brings out the best of Isla and me… we made an effort in the kitchen.”
I roll my eyes before we saunter back to the kitchen area. I’m quick to hand my niece back to my brother to ensure I’m not trapped into any more shenanigans. Harlow smiles at the baby who squeals a sound.
“You like Lake Spark, I hear?” Isla begins our conversation.
“Yeah.” Harlow swirls a tea bag in her mug. “It’s quaint and gives you a warm fuzzy feeling. Not sure how you all survive winter, though.”
“Summer makes up for it. A total opposite, and fall is just, wow, the colors changing, and Halloween feels different than in other places. There’s a sort of smell of wood in the air,” Isla gushes.
“I could see that. I should come back then for writing inspiration.”
My brother looks between all of us with awkwardness, and I internally groan because I know what he is about to do. “So,that means you plan on coming back more often?”
Harlow smiles self-consciously. “Uh, I’m not sure, probably. Who knows,” she strings a sentence on the go. “Those donuts look great, I love old-fashions with glaze.”
“Wonderful. I wasn’t sure if you were vegan or just vegetarian so got both options.” My soon-to-be sister-in-law is a little chipper and oblivious to my brother’s investigation.
“Oh,” Harlow seems taken aback. “Wow, you guys seem to know a lot about me.”
Isla nods her head with a bright smile. “For sure. Stone mentions you all the time when we meet for lunch or dinner.” Geez, Isla, please stop digging me into a hole.
“Kind of cute, don’t ya think?” My brother is leaning against the counter bouncing his daughter on his hip and wearing a proud smirk.
Harlow chortles to herself. “Definitely,” she plays along.
I clap my hands together. “Right, everyone, let’s eat.” And move us the fuck along.
A few minutes later, we’re all sitting at the table, with my niece in her highchair.
“Freshly squeezed orange juice, anyone?” Isla asks, holding up a jug.
Holy hell, this effort thing is now ridiculous. “Absolutely, why don’t you throw on an apron and some pearls, and then we’re all set with this future-housewife thing.” I’m not at all serious.
“Now, now, let’s not talk about my fiancée’s and my role-playing fantasies at this moment. After all, there are little ears present,” my brother jokes, or maybe not, and I just shake my head.
Glancing to my side, Harlow is desperate to burst out laughing. I can tell.
“Well, thanks for taking this morning to a new level of weirdness,” I comment.
“Trust me, I haven’t even asked if Harlow enjoys our family enough to see us again, which would imply that she’s not going anywhere in the future as far as you’re concerned.”
I will punch him. Then get him in a headlock like we used to when we were kids. Even better, have a rumble on the ice because he seems to be in his good-old-days phase.
For the first time, Harlow now has a shade of no longer entertained. A little sigh escapes her as she realizes that we probably can’t keep avoiding the obvious.
* * *
Harlow lets goof our interlaced fingers, barely a brush, but nonetheless a loss of her touch. She heads straight to the couch in my living room and falls down with an exhausted sigh. I slowly take a few strides in her direction, relieved when a faint smile appears on her lips.
“Sorry about all that.” I scratch the back of my neck.
She holds her hand up. “Don’t. That was hysterical. I will never forget that. No brunch will ever be the same.” She splays out her hands.
A lopsided look hits my face. “Well… that was my family.” I slide next to her on the cushions.
