She sat down, folded her hands in her lap, and gave him the mildest look she could manage. Years of living with Cody had taught her how to hide her emotions and put on a blank look. Having a poker face had been a hard, but useful, skill to learn.
“So,” he said, leaning back in his swivel chair, “what do you think about this whole wedding idea?”
What did she think about the wedding? Hadn’t she been clear last night? She was happy for Mom. She opted not to say a word because this guy might be playing some kind of game with her. Cody had been so good at playing games. Trapping her with her own words. Better not to say anything that could be used against her later.
“You don’t know?” Dylan asked into her silence, his voice inching up a little.
She stared at him mildly but remained silent.
He stared back, almost unblinking. “You don’t have any thoughts on this at all?”
She studied him before answering. He was so corporate. Curly hair cut short, broad brow, probing stare, square jaw. A lot of women would find him attractive, but he was most definitely not her type. But he didn’t look brotherly either.
Maybe she should have never prayed for a sibling back when she was eight years old. This had to be a case of God laughing at her.
“Look,” she finally said, “I think I made it clear last night that I’m happy for my mother. And happy that Jim loves her. I gather you don’t feel that way. If that’s the case, then—”
“No, it’s not the case. I mean, yes.” He stopped and took a big breath. “If Dad wants to have a lady friend, that’s fine. But to get married. At his age—” He bit off the last words but needn’t have bothered.
Ella straightened her shoulders, irritation firing her synapses. “So what is it? Don’t you think my mother is good enough for your father to marry?”
He blinked. “Well, no, actually.”
OMG. Did Mom know he felt this way? Probably not. And Ella was not about to tell her that Dylan didn’t think she was good enough. His opinion of Mom didn’t matter. And she, for one, didn’t really want him helping to plan this party.
She stood up. “Okay, we’re done. I’m happy to plan the party without you. I’m sure that’s what you want me to do.” She turned toward the door.
“Wait.”
She kept walking.
“Did you know that Dad plans to move into Cloud Nine?” Cloud Nine was the name Mom had given her beach house out on Paradise Beach. “I think they want you to move out.” Dylan hurled the words at her like sharp, pointy arrows.
Ella froze in front of the door. Mom wouldn’t do that? Would she?
* * *
The minute the words left Dylan’s mouth he knew they’d hit their mark. Ella stood still, her back to him, shoulders stiffening. A tiny mote of remorse trickled through him, and for an instant he thought about a beautiful butterfly being ruthlessly pinned to a display board.
Was he that cruel? Evidently so. But he needed an ally, and who better than Brenda’s daughter, who had abandoned her own mother for years? Surely she would understand his misgivings, if he could get her to understand all the implications. But he had to play this carefully.
“Look, I’m sorry if that hurt you, but my father is definitely moving into your mother’s house. He told me so.”
Ella turned, her blue-gray eyes a little brighter than they had been before. She was good at hiding her emotions, but not perfect. “So that part about them wanting me to move out…” Her voice trailed off in a question mark.
“Conjecture. But I’m sure it’s true. Dad hasn’t brought your mother over for a sleepover. We share a house, you know, and he’s never been comfortable about that sort of thing with me there. So…”
She nodded. She was listening to him now.
“And besides, we both know the beach house has only one bathroom and paper-thin walls,” he continued, pressing his point. “Even if they don’t ask you to move out, are you prepared to stay?”
“I don’t know.” Her voice was so small and soft.
“You know what? You shouldn’t feel especially aggrieved, because when Dad moves out, he’s probably going to sell the house I grew up in. So I’m going to have to find new living arrangements too.”
Her shoulders slumped a fraction. “I’m so sorry about that,” she said.
“I suppose I should have moved out a long time ago,” he admitted. He’d moved in after his residency when he’d decided to join his father’s medical practice. Until then he’d been living on his own, so he ought to be okay with the idea of his father selling the house. But he wasn’t.
His feelings about the house were not the main reason he was so opposed to Dad’s engagement to Brenda McMillan. Dylan was sure Brenda would break Dad’s heart, and Dad had suffered one too many broken hearts over the years. Mom’s death had destroyed him for a few years, and then Tammy Hansen swooped in and knocked him off his feet…until she dumped him four years later.
Tammy had been super needy, but nothing like Brenda. Even worse, since getting involved with Brenda, Dad’s personality had changed. He’d lost some of his drive. He was ignoring parts of the practice. He was giving up items on his bucket list.
In short, Dad was changing into someone Dylan hardly recognized.
He needed to stop this marriage before Dad woke up one day and realized he’d made a monumental mistake he couldn’t get himself out of easily. Breaking them up would be hard, but with Ella’s help, it might be possible. She couldn’t be happy about what was going on, could she?
“So, you see,” he said, following up on his advantage, “you and I are in the same boat.”
Ella stared at him for a good fifteen seconds before striding across the room and leaning on the chair back. “I can
