He had to get out of here.
He ditched the set table and the old furniture and the discomfort banding around his lungs, and headed for the kitchen, for Mel. She gave him a lot of conflicting feelings, but at least the verbal sparring with her didn’t induce panic.
Her forehead was scrunched up in concentration, eyes on the cookbook while she twisted a can opener around a can of vegetables.
“Do they not have electric can openers in Montana?”
She jumped, some of the liquid from the can sloshing over her fingers. She swore and then plopped the lump of vegetables into a pot on the stovetop. “Where’d Caleb go?”
“Beer.”
She pursed her lips and stared hard at the cookbook. “Everything should be ready in about ten minutes.”
“Domesticity. It’s a good look for you.”
“F—”
“You don’t have to say it.” He held up his hands, pretended not to be highly amused. “That look tells me everything I need to know.”
“I hate you.”
He put his elbows on the counter, resting his chin in his hands as he grinned at her. “You don’t hate me. I don’t doubt you want to hate me, but you don’t.”
She let out a gusty sigh. “Why, oh why did I think it was a good idea to bring you here?”
“Handsome. Charming. Excellent company.”
“Pathetic. Lonely. Friendless.” She stirred the vegetables in the pot absently. “Apparently my pity kicked in for a few seconds there. Very rare. That’s how pitiful you are, Dan.”
He shrugged. “Got you cooking me dinner. I’ll take it.”
Caleb reappeared. “Ready yet? I’m starving. Frozen pizza leftovers are shit for lunch.”
“Sandwich, Caleb. Two pieces of bread. Ham. Maybe a little mustard. Voilà.”
“I—” He shook his head. “Never mind.”
Mel stiffened. Dan didn’t have much experience reading family dynamics. He didn’t have siblings. He barely remembered a time his parents had been in the same room, let alone discussed each other. The divorce and his subsequent…issues had ended all that. So, he understood people in isolation, when he put his mind to it, but the weird sibling thing here was beyond his scope.
He could only guess there was some history there. Some not exactly nice history.
Mel bent over, pulled something out of the oven. Which gave Dan a rather up close view of her ass. At least, until Caleb cleared his throat.
When Dan looked his way, there was a threatening look on Caleb’s face.
Yeah, Dan really, really should not have come here.
“It’s not gourmet, but you’ll both pretend like it’s the best damn thing you’ve ever eaten.” Oblivious to Dan and Caleb’s nonverbal exchange, Mel continued handing out orders. “Caleb, grab the green beans.” She plopped the casserole dish—a sad version of possibly pork chops—into some kind of holder thing and marched to the dining room.
Caleb got the green beans, and Dan followed him. At least until Caleb stopped.
“I may be the younger brother, and you may be famous, but don’t think I won’t kick your ass to next Friday if you do one thing to hurt her.”
Before Dan could formulate a response to that, Caleb was walking into the dining room…and asking Mel something about cow testicles?
Dan glanced longingly at the door, but he’d been foolish enough to let Mel drive him over here. He was stuck. Stuck in crazy Shaw-ville. Population two, apparently.
He hoped he’d have a chance to escape.
He settled down in a chair next to Mel. The wood was uncomfortable, heavy and encompassing. Reiterating that feeling of being trapped.
Well, Dan had learned his first important Montana lesson today. Never, under any circumstances, let loneliness lead you to accepting a pretty woman’s dinner invitation. Unless there was guarantee of a whole lot more than food, and a whole lot less family.
An older man wheeled into the dining room. It had to be Mel and Caleb’s father, and yet they looked surprised to see him.
“Noisy,” he muttered. Then his eyes rested on Dan. “Who the hell are you?”
“Um. Dan. Dan Sharpe?”
The man grunted, then turned his wheelchair around and disappeared. When Dan looked back at the table, Caleb and Mel had their eyes on their plates. After a few seconds, Caleb pushed back. “I need another beer. Anybody else?”
“Uh, no thanks.”
Mel shook her head.
Then they were alone in her dining room, the silence heavy and uncomfortable. Dan had no words to interrupt it, no way of diffusing the tension in that silence. Caleb reappeared with a beer, sat down with a heavy sigh, and then they all ate. Not saying anything.
Dan wished he’d stayed home. Alone. Far away from complicated families.
Chapter 5
“You ready to go?”
Dan nodded, looking more than ready. Why hadn’t she thought to have him drive his damn self?
Because she hadn’t been thinking. Not even for a second. He’d looked lonely and lost, and she’d been an idiot.