And do what?
Noah was Dylan’s best friend, and Dylan was Olivia’s fiancé. That wouldn’t stop Maggie from giving Noah a piece of her mind, but it would Phoebe. She’d just keep her pain to herself and carry on.
But what if Noah had fallen for Phoebe, too? What if they were meant to be together, just like Olivia and Dylan?
“Then what?” Maggie asked herself aloud as she climbed out of her catering van.
She ignored a pang of loneliness, loss—she didn’t know what it was. She wanted all three of her sisters and all of her friends to be happy and knew they wanted the same for her. Except she wasn’t happy, she realized. Not romantically, anyway.
“What you are is discombobulated because the father of your sons is living in a damn tent.”
Muttering to herself couldn’t be a good sign of anything, she thought as she headed into Olivia’s kitchen. There was no sign of Buster. She assumed Noah had also let Brandon know he was leaving. She’d run into a couple of Sloans yesterday when she’d stopped at Dylan’s place and tried to surreptitiously check out Brandon’s tent, telling herself she just wanted to see where the boys would be camping. Sloan & Sons was working hard on carrying out the plans for the property. Brandon’s uncle and his eldest brother had caught her peering into the tent and teased her. She’d found their underlying assumption that she and Brandon would get back together both annoying and comforting.
That kind of ambivalence couldn’t last, she knew. She needed clarity in her life. Tyler and Aidan needed it, too.
She heard laughter and went into the mudroom, debated a moment before she stepped outside onto the terrace. It was a stunning morning, clear and dry, the sun shining on Olivia’s flowers and herbs. Tyler and Aidan were charging up a path, laughing. Brandon ambled behind them with Buster on a leash.
Maggie felt a jolt of awareness as her husband approached the terrace. He hadn’t shaved, wore a black flannel shirt over jeans. She noticed the shape of his shoulders, his hips, his legs as he unclipped Buster’s leash and warned him to stay out of the gardens. She blamed overwork and her sleepless night for her reaction and quickly looked away, although not before she saw Brandon grin. He’d noticed.
Of course he had. Bastard.
She smiled at Tyler and Aidan as they jumped onto the terrace. “Have you guys had breakfast?”
“Cereal,” Aidan said. “I wanted pancakes.”
“I bet I can find the ingredients for pancakes,” Maggie said. “I know Olivia has a griddle and maple syrup.”
Tyler obviously liked that. “Can we have blueberry pancakes?”
“I don’t know if there are blueberries—”
“We picked some with Dad,” Aidan said.
She hadn’t noticed the small covered plastic container that Brandon had in one hand. He set it on the table. “Should be enough for pancakes.”
It was what they’d done every summer since they were teenagers. Picked wild blueberries together. Made pancakes. Maggie fought back tears and grabbed the container. “Why don’t you guys burn off some energy out here and I’ll see what I can do?”
“Do you need any help?” Tyler asked.
He was her budding chef, but she shook her head. “You’re on vacation today.”
She returned to the kitchen. She’d catered a number of events for The Farm at Carriage Hill already and knew her way around the kitchen well. She quickly got out a pottery mixing bowl, measuring cups, measuring spoons and ingredients—stone-ground cornmeal, baking powder, baking soda, salt, canola oil, buttermilk.
Brandon came inside and dug out the electric griddle. Maggie tried not to think about how familiar it felt to have him there, working in the kitchen with her while the boys played outside. Familiarity was an illusion. They had gone their separate ways months ago.
“Noah’s gone back to California,” Brandon said.
“I know. He left me a message.”
“We talked some about Dylan’s plans to get into adventure travel. I could almost see the wheels turning in Noah’s brain. Guy’s smart. Always thinking.”
“Does he want to get into adventure travel, too?” Maggie asked, surprised.
Brandon shook his head. “No, but he thinks I should. He figured out I have a touch of wanderlust.”
“More than a touch,” Maggie said. “You’d be good at adventure travel, Brandon. Do you think you’ll talk to Dylan about it?”
“I don’t know.”
She whisked together the dry ingredients for the pancakes. “It’d be okay with me if you do. I’d like that. I never wanted you to give up your dreams. I just…” She set aside the bowl and lifted the strainer of blueberries out of the sink. “I was scared.”