“Still blaming me for getting a real job, huh?”
Kyle shot him a warning look and Ryan had the sense to look almost regretful. This was an argument they’d had many times. Too many. And they never got anywhere. Even as kids, Ryan was the one who focused on facts and numbers and Kyle was the one who was always sketching, stretching his mind to come up with new ideas. Their differences grew along with them, with Ryan going into business and Kyle…ending up here. From the way things were going tonight, nothing was going to change anytime soon. Not between them.
And not with this bar.
Kyle supposed he should count his victories rather than take issue with the old wounds that had a way of opening up every time that he and Ryan had talked over the years, and even more so now that Ryan was back in town. And hell-bent on sticking his nose in the family business. Judging by the way Ryan slung a rag over his shoulder and stalked to the other side of the long bar, the idea that Kyle could have some hidden personal secret seemed to have been forgotten.
Normally Ryan’s insistence to change up the pub they’d inherited from their father, and his father before that, was a source of frustration to Kyle. Kyle liked things the way they were.
Always had, he thought ruefully.
He pushed his mind away from Brooke.
“You know I didn’t push you to come back and take over,” he said with a heavy sigh. What he didn’t say was that he’d wanted to, just as much as he couldn’t bring himself to do that. His father loved his old place, much more than Kyle ever would or could, but Ryan wouldn’t give it the justice it deserved, and the fact that he already had an established life somewhere else at the time was only a convenient excuse.
“The menu is old and tired, just like this place,” Ryan said.
“It was Dad’s menu, and as I said, the people like it.” Kyle could hear the same old resentment creeping into his tone, and he checked himself.
“If they like it so much, then why does the Carriage House always have a bigger crowd?”
“A different crowd,” Kyle corrected, thinking of the posh and cozy pub in the back of the quaint Main Street inn that attracted locals looking for a social spot and tourists hoping for something authentic yet upscale. “Dad never cared about that scene.”
“Dad isn’t here anymore,” Ryan said, not unkindly. They fell silent for a moment. There was a loud burst of laughter from the guys near the window. The television screen seemed especially loud.
“Well, Dad entrusted the place to me,” Kyle said firmly.
“To us.” Ryan squared him with a look.
“Yeah? Well, nice of you to finally make an appearance.” Kyle hated this, the arguing, almost as much as he hated the fact that his brother wasn’t completely wrong. He’d been running this place for years now, or keeping it going at least. And his brother had bigger hopes for it. Bigger ideas. He didn’t know who was right anymore. He just knew that he’d had enough change for one lifetime.
“I have an objective opinion,” Ryan said firmly. “You need to take a step back and look at what’s going on here. You’re too close to it to see that you’re not doing the business any help by not changing with the times.”
“Why don’t you go back to your office job in Cleveland and leave the pub to me?” Kyle asked.
“Because I missed the view of the water. Because I was bored, and life was passing me by.”
“Because your girlfriend dumped you,” Kyle teased, even though he knew it was the other way around, or at least, mutual.
“That’s rich, coming from you,” Ryan said, and even though it was their usual brotherly banter, Kyle couldn’t help but feel the sting, especially after just seeing Brooke.
Brooke. Back in town. He still couldn’t believe it. Just like he couldn’t believe how good it felt to see her again, to see the light in her eyes, and the lift of her smile. And her voice. He’d nearly forgotten it, or tried to, at least.
He’d thought he was over her. But, then, he’d thought a lot of things. And how had that all turned out?
*
Brooke’s parents were already waiting for her on the front porch when Gabby pulled onto the gravel driveway lined with happy yellow tulips. Her younger sister Jenna shot up from the steps and bolted across the yard, her ponytail made her seem more youthful than her age. Even though she’d come to visit New York a couple of times, Brooke still couldn’t believe how much Jenna had changed. She was a young woman now, well into her twenties. An adult with a music career and an apartment of her own. And oh, how Brooke had missed her. She’d missed all of them; she just hadn’t let herself feel that way until now.
“You’re here, you’re really here!” That was her mother, of course, pulling her into her arms, her scent so familiar that tears prickled the backs of Brooke’s eyes.
“I’m here, Mom,” Brooke promised. “To stay.”
“Oh, let me look at you.” Miriam pushed her away only long enough to give her a good once-over. “Is it a requirement in New York to be so skinny?”
“Maybe in the fashion industry,” Gabby said, jumping to her defense. She gave her a little wink. “Besides, I think you look beautiful. I will be borrowing those jeans, by the way.”
Brooke laughed and gave her father a long hug. Swapping clothes with her sisters was a small perk that she’d nearly forgotten about. Being the middle sister, she usually had the best of both worlds, but now that they were all
