Page 10 of Quinn

“Second round?” She thought she’d risen bright and early.

Aunt Eileen nodded. “Sean and the hands are already out working.”

“Oh, is that where Gray is?”

“Yes ma’am. Best cattle dog a rancher could ask for.” Eileen reached for a bowl and a griddle. “Now it’s time to feed the construction crew, and anyone who skipped the first breakfast but is ready to fuel up.”

“What’s on the menu?” Eloise watched the woman pull out pans and plates and ingredients from the massive fridge.

“Just eggs, bacon, and fresh biscuits. If the mood moves me, I might make some pancakes too.”

“Allow me.” Eloise didn’t wait for approval, she opened the fridge and began pulling out ingredients. “I make a mean French toast breakfast casserole.”

The way Aunt Eileen stared at her, for a moment panic rushed through her, fearing she’d offended the woman.

A slow smile took over the older woman’s face as she grabbed a rag and wiped her hands. “That may be the best offer I’ve had all year. Besides, how stupid would I have to be to fight a professional chef for control of a kitchen?”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to—.” That panic in the pit of her stomach was growing.

“No, dear.” Aunt Eileen set her hand on Eloise’s forearm. “It’s always a blessing to have help in the kitchen. What would you like me to do?”

By the time boot heels were stomping down the stairs, fresh biscuits filled the warming drawer, bacon crisped on the griddle, and she’d just pulled her brother’s favorite breakfast casserole from the oven.

“Something smells amazing.” Quinn’s deep voice carried from the doorway, still gravelly with sleep.

She turned to find him in worn jeans and a faded t-shirt, his hair still damp from a morning shower, looking far too appealing for this early hour. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“Always.” He poured two cups of coffee, sliding one toward her. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“Consider it a thank you for the room. And the welcome.” She accepted the coffee, their fingers brushing briefly, her awareness of him escalating unexpectedly.

“I offer my heartyyou’re very welcomeon behalf of everyone eating breakfast this morning.” He took a long slow sip of coffee before looking up at her. “Did you sleep well?”

“Best sleep in a long time. Grace has good taste.”

“She loved that room. Aunt Eileen moved in with the family when her sister died after giving birth to Grace. Back then, we only spent summers in Texas, but I still remember Aunt Eileen and Grace picking out all the colors and fabrics. Somehow they made it feel like it wasn’t just the two of them decorating, but Aunt Helen as well. Grace said that’s why sleeping in that room was like sleeping with the angels.”

“She’s right.” Sleeping with angels was exactly how she’d felt.

Within minutes, Ryan had joined them. Followed by Paxton, another brother who still lived with the Farradays but would be marrying soon and moving to a house of their own in town. Before more than a hello or two was shared, the kitchen door opened and Connor came in, stomping his boots. “Man, something smells good.”

Aunt Eileen grinned, lifting her chin, beaming with pride as if she’d been the one to make the breakfast. “Eloise made a special breakfast casserole.”

“Really?” Connor pulled out his phone and within minutes his wife Catherine, who was originally from Chicago like her, their daughter and young son were on their way over.

“Well now, I don’t know about you, but I’m awfully glad the town council screwed up and your apartment isn’t ready yet.” Aunt Eileen surveyed the spread with approval. “Not that I expect you to cook for us, but this is indeed a wonderful way to start the morning.” The woman spun about and pulled Eloise into a tight hug before stepping back. “Thank you.”

A chorus ofthank youfrom everyone at the table met her ears along with mutterings of more eggs please, save some for me, and danged these are amazing biscuits.

Eloise felt warmth spread through her chest that had nothing to do with the ovens. So this is what it meant to have a family. Too bad they weren’t hers.

Sunlight streamed through the kitchen windows as Quinn, lingering for no particular reason, savored his third cup of coffee. Most of the family had cleared out, heading to their respective jobs and responsibilities. Even Aunt Eileen had disappeared, lugging a basket of clean laundry to hang on the line. Despite their having a perfectly good dryer, his aunt preferred hanging the laundry the old-fashioned way on sunny days.

Eloise hummed softly while loading the dishwasher. He’d offered to help more than once, but her insistence that she had it under control reminded him of his aunt. Cleaning up, she’d moved with the same efficiency she’d shown while cooking. He’d noticed that about her—everything she did had purpose, even if she made it look effortless.

“Are you wanting to go back to the construction site, or would you rather stay here and settle in?” He rinsed his cup and set it in the rack she’d just filled.

“I’d like to go with you. There are a few more things I need to work out; besides there’s not that much to settle in here.” She closed the dishwasher, wiped her hands on a towel. “Though I need to figure out my own transportation soon. I can’t keep depending on you for rides.”

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