All Wrapped Up (A Pine Mountain Novel) by Kimberly Kincaid Page A
Authors: Kimberly Kincaid
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a yes?”
Her laughter grew, and damn, he had to admit, it sounded good on her. “Well, there are going to be five hundred people at Saint Mark’s on Christmas Day expecting me to take that little stroll down the aisle, plus I’m kind of insanely in love with the guy, so yeah. That’s a yes.”
On second thought, maybe not with the ribbing. “Olderbrother, here. Can we skip the you-in-love thing, please?”
“Sure.” A crafty grin crept into Ellie’s tone. “So have you been dating anybody lately? I wasn’t kidding about adding a plus-one to the seating arrangements, you know.”
Brennan winced, grateful Ellie couldn’t see the gesture. He loved his sister, and not a little bit, but he wasn’t planning on attending her wedding any longer thanabsolutely necessary. Even then, his agenda was to lie low and blend into the wallpaper. The last thing he needed was to see anyone he knew in Fairview, or worse yet, for anyone he knew to see him .
Check that. The last thing Brennan needed was to worry about a date for the ten hours he’d be fading to black in the town he’d left behind.
“Ugh! Okay, fine,” he mumbled in defeat. “You-in-loveit is.”
Ellie launched into a monologue about bridesmaids and bodices and bustles, and Brennan did his best to play along. The muscles on either side of his lumbar vertebrae reminded him exactly how much time he’d spent on his feet last night after returning to the bar from Riverside, and he parked himself in a heavily cushioned kitchen chair as he cradled the phone between his shoulder andhis ear. Ellie was clearly the head spokeswoman for crazy-in-love, and even though he had no frigging clue what a hand-beaded empire waist was, it really didn’t seem fair to deny her this excitement.
Even if there was no chance in hell he’d ever follow suit. Falling in love with someone meant opening up, and now more than ever, he needed to keep a handle on his emotions. Letting loose with anythingother than precise, logical control only got you burned. Literally. Figuratively. Take your pick.
Brennan wasn’t going back there either.
After another ten minutes of easy back and forth with Ellie that may or may not have included the words ice sculptures , Brennan ended the call on one last assurance that everything in Pine Mountain was status quo. He had a liquor delivery to oversee, notto mention holiday staff schedules that needed finalizing. While he’d never imagined that managing a small-town bar and grill would headline his résumé, the place meant a lot to Adrian and Teagan. Teagan’s father had taken a flyer on him when Brennan had needed a job two years ago, no questions asked, and for that, he owed them a lot. The hard work was the least he could do, and if it kept him movingthrough the present tense, all the better.
Knocking back the rest of his sugar rush, Brennan padded to the bathroom to go through the motions of lather-rinse-repeat. By the time he’d slung on a pair of jeans and a black long-sleeved T-shirt with the Double Shot logo printed across the front, his back was mostly on board with keeping the rest of him upright, although his stomach wasn’t feelingquite so friendly. A quick scan of his pantry told him sneaking in breakfast at work was a moral imperative unless he wanted to chow down on condiments, so Brennan went to grab the keys to his Trailblazer from the drawer where he’d tossed them without looking last night.
Only his gaze made a direct hit on a photograph instead.
A dull ache that had nothing to do with his back thudded all theway through him, and his mind wheeled back to the day he’d stuck the thing in there to begin with.
Brennan had been in such a hurry to leave Fairview that he’d dumped most of his belongings into boxes without looking, figuring he’d just pitch anything he didn’t want or need when he unpacked. On the fourth day of slow sorting, he’d unearthed the photograph, staring up at him from beneath hiscollection of
Her laughter grew, and damn, he had to admit, it sounded good on her. “Well, there are going to be five hundred people at Saint Mark’s on Christmas Day expecting me to take that little stroll down the aisle, plus I’m kind of insanely in love with the guy, so yeah. That’s a yes.”
On second thought, maybe not with the ribbing. “Olderbrother, here. Can we skip the you-in-love thing, please?”
“Sure.” A crafty grin crept into Ellie’s tone. “So have you been dating anybody lately? I wasn’t kidding about adding a plus-one to the seating arrangements, you know.”
Brennan winced, grateful Ellie couldn’t see the gesture. He loved his sister, and not a little bit, but he wasn’t planning on attending her wedding any longer thanabsolutely necessary. Even then, his agenda was to lie low and blend into the wallpaper. The last thing he needed was to see anyone he knew in Fairview, or worse yet, for anyone he knew to see him .
Check that. The last thing Brennan needed was to worry about a date for the ten hours he’d be fading to black in the town he’d left behind.
“Ugh! Okay, fine,” he mumbled in defeat. “You-in-loveit is.”
Ellie launched into a monologue about bridesmaids and bodices and bustles, and Brennan did his best to play along. The muscles on either side of his lumbar vertebrae reminded him exactly how much time he’d spent on his feet last night after returning to the bar from Riverside, and he parked himself in a heavily cushioned kitchen chair as he cradled the phone between his shoulder andhis ear. Ellie was clearly the head spokeswoman for crazy-in-love, and even though he had no frigging clue what a hand-beaded empire waist was, it really didn’t seem fair to deny her this excitement.
Even if there was no chance in hell he’d ever follow suit. Falling in love with someone meant opening up, and now more than ever, he needed to keep a handle on his emotions. Letting loose with anythingother than precise, logical control only got you burned. Literally. Figuratively. Take your pick.
Brennan wasn’t going back there either.
After another ten minutes of easy back and forth with Ellie that may or may not have included the words ice sculptures , Brennan ended the call on one last assurance that everything in Pine Mountain was status quo. He had a liquor delivery to oversee, notto mention holiday staff schedules that needed finalizing. While he’d never imagined that managing a small-town bar and grill would headline his résumé, the place meant a lot to Adrian and Teagan. Teagan’s father had taken a flyer on him when Brennan had needed a job two years ago, no questions asked, and for that, he owed them a lot. The hard work was the least he could do, and if it kept him movingthrough the present tense, all the better.
Knocking back the rest of his sugar rush, Brennan padded to the bathroom to go through the motions of lather-rinse-repeat. By the time he’d slung on a pair of jeans and a black long-sleeved T-shirt with the Double Shot logo printed across the front, his back was mostly on board with keeping the rest of him upright, although his stomach wasn’t feelingquite so friendly. A quick scan of his pantry told him sneaking in breakfast at work was a moral imperative unless he wanted to chow down on condiments, so Brennan went to grab the keys to his Trailblazer from the drawer where he’d tossed them without looking last night.
Only his gaze made a direct hit on a photograph instead.
A dull ache that had nothing to do with his back thudded all theway through him, and his mind wheeled back to the day he’d stuck the thing in there to begin with.
Brennan had been in such a hurry to leave Fairview that he’d dumped most of his belongings into boxes without looking, figuring he’d just pitch anything he didn’t want or need when he unpacked. On the fourth day of slow sorting, he’d unearthed the photograph, staring up at him from beneath hiscollection of
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