A Match Made in Mystery (13 page)

“The pleasure is all mine, lovely lady.” Jackson made a slight bow while he shook her hand.

Amy didn’t know what to think of the mysterious man. She couldn’t tell whether or not he was flirting with her. She was unsure of whether Jackson was his first or last name. And with his dusty skin and green eyes, she couldn’t tell what race he might be.

With an enigmatic half-smile, Jackson released her hand and trained his gaze on Brady. “Don’t usually see you around here on a Saturday night, buddy.”

Brady looked to Amy, silently asking her how she wanted to explain their arrival.

Jackson let out a low whistle. “Wow. I didn’t even know you were seeing somebody. Let alone that it’s serious enough to introduce her to the family.”

“We’re not—” Amy and Brady began simultaneously.

Jackson chuckled. “You can end each other’s sentences already.”

“We’re not a couple,” Amy hurriedly assured him, her cheeks now flaming.

Jackson ignored her. “Good for you, buddy. It’s about time.”

“You’re getting this all wrong,” Brady protested.

Amy noticed that there wasn’t much conviction behind his words.

“Tom told me that you were working with that psychic matchmaker of his. Boy that woman works fast.”

Amy expected Brady to explain the situation, but all he did was nod.

“Look,” she interjected. “We’re not a couple. We just met yesterday.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Jackson studied her carefully. Since he stood well over six feet tall, she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze.

“Love at first sight? Who would have thought my man had it in him?”

Amy balled her hands into fists at her sides. “It wasn’t love at first sight. Tell him, Brady.” She looked to Brady, who was watching the exchange with amusement.

“It wasn’t love at first sight,” he agreed obediently, bouncing the basketball for emphasis.

“See?” She put her hands on her hips, glared at Jackson and waited for an apology.

Jackson’s disbelief was almost palpable as he looked back and forth between them. “Bull.”

Amy wondered how Brady could be friends with such an impossible person. She was ready to ask him that very question when Brady spoke.

“Second.”

“What?” she asked, thoroughly confused.

“I didn’t fall in love with you at first sight.” He held her gaze steadily, forcing her to hear what he was saying. “I fell in love the second time I saw you.”

Her heart flip-flopped at the romantic notion, but then her practical side took over. “I was soaking wet.”

“And you’d just tangled with a mugger. Your cheeks were almost as pink as they are now.”

Self-consciously Amy slapped her hands over her face to hide the evidence.

“And your eyes were sparkling.”

“It was the adrenaline rush,” she protested weakly.

“Maybe. But it was when I fell in love with you.”

She shook her head, not wanting to give credence to his declaration. There were so many reasons he couldn’t be in love with her. So many reasons a couple like them would never work.

“I knew it!” Jackson fist-pumped the air. “The second I saw that silly, besotted look on your face, I knew it, buddy.”

“I’m never going to hear the end of this,” Brady told Amy drily. “Once he’s right about something, he’s like a dog with a bone.”

Amy, feeling like the world was suddenly spinning, held onto the car for support. “So you’re not helping me because Mildred asked you to?”

Brady shrugged sheepishly. “She did ask, but usually when she asks me to do something, I give it to Gerald.”

Jackson leaned closer to Amy to stage-whisper, “He’s a duty shirker.”

“Gerald is very good at his job and I’m very good at mine, which is why I’m a delegator,” Brady retorted. “Something Jackson is not good at. I don’t think the words ‘sorry, but I can’t’ are in the man’s vocabulary.”

Jackson winced as though Brady’s words hit home, but he kept his tone light. “You don’t seem to mind when I let you park in my driveway.”

“Nope. I’m grateful.” Brady tossed him the basketball. “But I’m not here to introduce Amy to my family, not officially anyway. We’re here for business reasons.”

Jackson tossed the balls back and forth between his hands. “Business reasons? Sounds intriguing.”  He looked to Amy, hoping she’d elaborate.

Deciding that she did like this friend of Brady’s, she tossed him a bone. “We’re on a kind of treasure hunt.”

“More interesting!” Jackson bounced the ball for emphasis. He twirled an imaginary mustache. “What kind of treasure do you seek?”

“I’m not quite sure,” she admitted. “It’s an inheritance of some sort. The whole thing is a bit of a mystery.”

“The matchmaker and the mysterious inheritance,” Jackson intoned dramatically. “May I come along on your adventure?”

Amy blinked her surprise.

“Most quests require an expedition. Right now you have one piddly helper.” He waved his hand dismissively in Brady’s general direction.

“And Gerald,” Brady shot back.

“I could be of great assistance, milady.” He gave her a full bow. “After all, I’m a professional.”

“Oh yeah?” She laughed. “And what makes you a professional?”

“My card says so.”

“Your card?”

“My calling card.”

“He’s a private investigator,” Brady said to clarify things.

Jackson frowned at him. “You make everything sound so boring. Did you pick that up in law school?”

“Nope. Learned it from you every time you tried to pick up one of my sisters,” Brady countered without missing a beat.

Amy chuckled, enjoying the banter. In some ways they reminded her of her relationship with Diego... someone else who’d labelled Brady her boyfriend.

The thought sobered her. Was he really in love with her? The thought was both thrilling and scary. She knew that they were all wrong for one another, but at the same time, she couldn’t deny the attraction growing between them.

Sensing the change in her mood, Brady suggested quietly. “Let’s go get the key.”

“Key?” Jackson asked.

“I’m pretty sure it will open a safe deposit box,” Brady explained.

“How’s that for a treasure chest?” Amy added quickly.

Jackson surveyed her closely and said seriously. “I joke around, but you should know that there’s no one better to have in your corner than Brady. You’re in good hands, Amy.”

Amy glanced at Brady. “I sort of knew that.”

Brady grinned back at her.

“Oh yeah.” Jackson laughed. “The boy is smitten.”

“C’mon.” Brady held out his hand, inviting Amy to join him. “Let’s go find your treasure.”

“It was nice to meet you,” Jackson said softly.

“You too.”

Hand-in-hand, Amy and Brady made their way toward his family home.

“You two have been friends for a long time?” she asked.

“Since we were four.”

“Wow, I thought Diego and I had been friends forever.”

“How long have you two known each other?” A note of tension threaded through his tone.

“Since we were ten.”

“And have you always been friends?” Brady spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully.

“No,” she said quickly.

“Oh.” His tone was laden with disappointment.

“We were mortal enemies when we were ten. We were both captains of dueling dodgeball teams during gym. It was war.”

Brady chuckled, his relief evident.

“But since then, we’ve been friends. My mom used to say he was the son she’d never had. I always say that he was the brother I’d never wanted to have.”

Brady laughed at her joke and  a warm feeling settled in Amy’s chest.

“But seriously, I don’t know what I would have done without him when my mother got sick.”

Brady squeezed her hand, offering her wordless support.

Weaving their way through the parked cars on the lawn, they made their way to the front door of the house.

“It can be kind of loud and overwhelming,” he warned.

“They can’t be any worse than a bunch of drunks on a Saturday night at the restaurant.” She squeezed his hand, reassuring him that she’d be okay as he opened the door and they stepped inside.

Amy’s breath caught in her throat as the wave of noise assailed her. It sounded like thousands of people shouting at once, but as Brady led the way to an oversized dining room, she realized it was only about twenty family members eating pizza off of plastic plates and chatting away.

“Baby!” a female voice called out.

“Baby’s here,” another chimed in.

Twenty sets of eyes swiveled toward them and the room fell silent with such abruptness that Amy couldn’t help but think about how it felt like swimming underwater, with all the noise buffered.

“This is Amy,” Brady said as way of introduction.

“Hi, Amy,” a wave of voices greeted simultaneously.

“Hi.” She smiled weakly, unsure of who to focus on.

“Have a seat,” a man about forty suggested, hopping out of his own chair and indicating she should take it.

Focusing on him, she smiled her sincere gratitude. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’m Sam, Brady’s only brother.”

“Nice to meet you, Sam.”

“Oh god, we’re not going to have to go around the table again are we?” a boy of about ten complained loudly.

“Rachel brought a new suitor,” Sam explained. “And my nephew Mikey doesn’t want to go through another round of introductions.”

Smiling, Amy winked at the little boy. “I don’t want to do it, either. I’m really bad with names and faces. Maybe next time.”

“Yay!” Mikey cheered.

His victory yell reopened the floodgates of conversation and the noise level of the room once again swelled.

“You’ve made a fan,” Sam said with a good-natured grin.

Amy nodded weakly, distracted by the realization she’d said “next time” as though she and Brady had some sort of future. She glanced up to see what he’d thought of her slip of the tongue, but his attention was already being monopolized by a woman who looked so much like him she had to be his sister. For a moment, he wondered if he had a twin.

“Pizza?” Sam offered.

She shook her head. She was too nervous to eat a thing, though she wasn’t sure if that was because of her treasure hunt or because she was starting to seriously consider the possibility of having a relationship with Brady.

“It’s nice that you’re here.” Sam put a slice of pizza on his own plastic plate. “Mom and Dad will be thrilled that Baby’s made an appearance.”

Something in his tone made Amy look at him more closely, but before she could ask what he’d meant, the two people who had to be the matriarch and patriarch of the family entered the room carrying more pizzas and soda.

“Baby,” the woman cried out with delight. Putting the food down, she practically ran around the table so she could plant a kiss on her youngest son’s cheek. “I didn’t know you’d be stopping by. I would have gotten sausage.”

“Sausage is Sam’s favorite,” Brady corrected gently.

Amy’s chest tightened, finding it heartbreaking that his mother didn’t know what Brady liked.

“Are you sure?” Brady’s mom asked.

“Whatever you’ve got is great, Mom,” Brady placated her with a soft tone, but Amy saw the tension in his jaw.

“Baby likes pepperoni,” one of the younger women, who had to be one of his sisters, supplied helpfully.

“Oh. Well that we’ve got.” Their mother looked relieved. “Let me get you some.”

Brady caught his mother’s arm before she could flutter away. “I want you to meet someone, Mom. This is Amy Winn.”

Amy saw what looked like a flicker of fear pass over the older woman’s face.  Then her expression grew dark.

Amy summoned her brightest smile. “I’m sorry for intruding, Mrs. Stewart, but Brady insisted it would be okay.”

“Of course it’s okay,” his father boomed from the other end of the table, startling her. “Welcome, Amy.”

Amy whipped her head around to grin at the older man. “Thank you.”

“Yes, yes. Of course, of course.” Smiling, Mrs. Stewart grabbed her hand with both of hers and squeezed it tightly. “Everyone’s always welcome.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

Brady’s mother turned Amy’s hand over and stroked her palm thoughtfully.

Amy wondered if she was going to read her palm or something, but all the woman was said before releasing her was, “You have working hands.”

“Speaking of work,” Brady interjected.

The entire table let out a collective moan before he could continue.

“No talking about work,” his precocious nephew pleaded.

Shrugging, Brady said, “Okay. Let’s get some pizza.”

He steered her into the kitchen in search of food, but not before stopping to hug his father.

“Everything alright?” the senior Stewart asked beneath his breath, so that only Brady and Amy could hear him.

“Yeah,” Brady assured him. “I just need to ask Mom a question about her time at the firm.”

Mr. Stewart switched his gaze to Amy and smiled warmly. “Is that where you two met?”

“Yes,” Amy replied.

“No,” Brady said simultaneously.

His father raised an eyebrow.

“We first met at a restaurant.” Brady winked at her.

Amy’s heart fluttered.

“Then we met at the firm,” she explained.

“Sounds interesting,” Brady’s father said mildly. “Go get yourselves something to eat and sit by your mother. She’s excited you’re here.”

Amy glanced in the direction of the woman in question and saw that she was in a heated conversation with one of her daughters.

Brady grabbed Amy’s elbow and led her through a swinging door into the kitchen.

Amy leaned against the counter, enjoying the respite from the cacophony in the other room.

Before she even knew what he was doing, Brady had placed his hands on either of side her. Bracing himself against the counter, effectively trapping her where she stood, he leaned in close.

“How are you holding up?”

“Fine,” she replied. “How about you?”

“I’d be better with a kiss,” he cajoled teasingly.

Amy glanced at the door they’d just walked through.

“A quick kiss,” Brady bargained, lowering his mouth towards her.