“Where’s Brady?” Arabella slid into her seat at the breakfast table and reached for the stack of toast in the center.
“Went to the hotel again.” Harper was nursing a cup of tea, looking vaguely green around the gills.
“You feeling okay?”
“Morning sickness,” she admitted. “Why does it have to hit now when Brady’s so worried about the hotel?”
“Maybe stress makes it worse.” Arabella could see the twins through the doorway to the living area. They were bouncing recklessly on the couch and the fact that Harper didn’t even seem to notice was enough to call for action. “Go back up to bed,” she urged. “Sleep as long as you want. I’ll keep the boys occupied today.”
“I was going to take them out to ride again with Laurel.”
“I’ll take them,” she promised.
“But you don’t know how to ride at all.”
“I know a little bit,” she assured primly. “Jay showed me. And I’m sure he’d be willing to come with us, anyway, if you’re so worried about my ability.”
“I know you’ll take care of the boys,” Harper said quickly, looking horrified that she might have implied otherwise.
Arabella reached over and gave her a quick squeeze. “Go back to bed. Or take a bath. Whatever.”
“Maybe I’ll just hug the porcelain goddess,” Harper muttered, but she got up looking grateful and left the room.
Arabella finished slathering Lou’s jam on her toast and shoved half of it in her mouth as she went into the living room. She snapped her fingers at Murphy who obediently slunk off the couch where he wasn’t allowed and then caught Toby around the waist mid-jump. She swallowed her mouthful and set him on the ground. “You know you’re not supposed to bounce on the couch.” She grabbed Tyler, too, and set him on the floor next to his brother.
“But—”
“No jumping on the couch!”
There were blocks scattered all over the floor. The Candy Land game they usually loved was upended in the corner, little pieces strewn about. Just looking at the mess made her actually long for the simplicity of cleaning a hotel room.
“Come on, guys. Let’s clean up and later after you’re dressed, I’ll take you out to see Auntie Laurel and her horses.”
“I want to watch TV,” Tyler groused.
“Yeah, and I want a million dollars,” she grumbled. Then she smiled and scrubbed her hand over his tousled hair. “Come on. Clean up and we’ll negotiate the matter of TV.” She knew that negotiating was something the boys were well-acquainted with, thanks to Harper.
Tyler halfheartedly tossed a block into the bucket where they belonged. “Harper’s sneaky. She gives us five minutes before bed, but we gotta only read together.”
Arabella laughed and went down onto her hands and knees alongside them. “The horror. Come on, we’ll all do it together.” Roving around, she gathered up a handful of blocks but before long, she was the only one cleaning up the mess on the floor, which proved her negotiating skills weren’t up to Harper’s level at all. Instead, Arabella was just a sucker for the boys.
At least the two eventually went upstairs and returned, suitably attired in mismatched shorts and T-shirts. Toby’s hair was damp so she was fairly certain he’d washed his face and Tyler had a smear of toothpaste on his shirt, so she felt confident he’d brushed his teeth.
Considering all of that to be ticks in the win column, she handed them the television remote. “Your channels only,” she warned. Brady had locked down their ability to unintentionally tune in to something too mature for them.
It usually meant that when Arabella actually felt like watching something on television, she was reduced to watching classic cartoons or kid-friendly videos on YouTube.
After a brief tussle for control of the remote, Tyler won and Arabella went back into the kitchen to have another piece of toast. It was cold by now, but the strawberry jam made up for it. She cleaned up the kitchen and realized she was humming along with the dreaded earworm song when it sounded from the other room.
She stuck her head into the living room, prepared to tell the kids to find another channel.
But they were standing there giggling and dancing the floss and she didn’t have the heart. Instead, she pulled her own cell phone out of her back pocket and without their knowledge started filming them.
She’d send it to her parents later. They’d love it.
The song had a heavy beat. Oddly gut-wrenching really in comparison to the lively steps the boys were doing. She glanced at the TV screen above the boys’ head.
The video was deliberately blurry in the way that some were. Sort of jerky, even. Focusing on the singer’s long fingers as he strummed his gleaming guitar while his unbuttoned shirt fluttered from an unseen breeze. Then on his bearded profile as he crooned to some invisible lover. “Giving it all up. Gonna be someone new.” His dark head dipped again, giving little more than a flash of dark sunglasses and a dip of his cowboy hat. “Never gonna trust again.” His deep voice curled over the words and despite herself, Arabella felt a tingle down her spine.
Hallie wasn’t exactly off-track, she decided. Jett Carr did have a sexy demeanor.
“Never gonna find someone like you.”
He strummed harder, his fingers working the strings faster, and without volition, Arabella’s feet carried her back into the living room. Closer to the television screen.
“You’re not s’posed to stand so close.” Tyler grabbed her hand and dragged her back two steps.
“Never gonna trust again, never gonna love again, never gonna find someone like you.” After the buildup, the singer trailed off, though the music continued on. He stood up from the stool where he’d been sitting and set his guitar down. Then he walked away, the wind fluttering the tails of his shirt madly around his shoulders. She saw a flash of a tattoo and then Jett Carr looked over his shoulder straight at the camera.
He pulled his glasses down his nose, and Jay’s distinctive green eyes stared straight
