“You’re not my problem,” Mack said testily.
“Okay, here’s how I see it. I know it would be easy enough to look at your past, at all the ways your family was messed up, and figure out exactly why you don’t believe in love and commitment, but the truth is, you’re better at both than you give yourself credit for. I’m not just talking about Susie, either. You’re one of the best friends I have. I think Jake would say the same thing. We count on you. You’ve never once let either of us down.”
Mack looked embarrassed by the praise. “Come on. You guys would do the same for me.”
“Of course, because we both care about you. You’ve got what it takes to be in a relationship for the long haul, Mack. I hope you wake up and accept that before it’s too late. Don’t lose Susie because you’re scared.”
Mack scowled at his choice of words. “I’m not scared,” he insisted.
“Then you’re crazy,” Will said. “When it comes down to it, we’re all a little scared of love and making a lifelong commitment. It’s a big deal.”
Mack leveled a knowing look right back at him. “Is that why you haven’t pushed harder to win Jess?”
Will wasn’t used to having the tables turned on him, certainly not by Mack, who tended to avoid talk about emotional issues. In fact, this whole conversation had been a rarity.
“Maybe,” Will admitted, since Mack had opened the door. “Or maybe I’ve been terrified that if I pushed hard and still lost her, I’d never get over it.”
“Then I should tell you what my grandmama once told me before she took off to dance in Vegas or wherever the hell she went,” Mack said. “Nothing beats a try but a failure. That advice was what kept me on a playing field when I was a kid and everyone said I was too small to play football. I figured if I kept trying, I might fail, but if I gave up, I’d fail for sure.”
Will laughed. “Words to live by,” he confirmed. “We should both take them to heart.”
But he wondered if either one of them was quite ready to try wholeheartedly for the women they wanted in their lives…and risk losing them forever.
Sunday dinners at home had always been an O’Brien family obligation, but they were changing. For one thing, Gram had given up the reins. Oh, Nell O’Brien still contributed the main dish more often than not, but she’d been training the rest of them to cook their favorite side dishes and desserts. Each week her grandchildren were assigned to bring a new dish, made according to Gram’s carefully handwritten recipes.
This week Jess was supposed to be bringing homemade Irish soda bread. She wondered if Gram would figure out that she’d enlisted Gail’s help in making it. Jess, like her mother, was hopeless in the kitchen. Before she’d left them all, Megan had kept them from starving, but no one could claim that her meals were anything more than barely edible.
Jess walked into the kitchen on Sunday, found Gram at the stove and kissed her cheek before setting two perfectly baked loaves of bread on the counter. Her grandmother eyed them suspiciously.
“You baked those yourself?” she asked.
“What’s wrong with them?” Jess asked, bristling. They’d looked perfect to her.
“Usually the first time someone bakes bread, it doesn’t turn out so well,” Gram said, gazing directly into Jess’s eyes.
She waited, and Jess flinched. “Okay, you caught me. Gail baked the bread.”
Gram shook her head. “I thought as much. How do you expect to master my recipes if you don’t do it yourself?”
“I’m counting on everyone else in the family to master them,” Jess told her, grinning as Abby came in and deposited a bowl of rice pudding on the table. She peered under the lid of the plastic bowl. “Looks edible.”
“I should hope so,” Abby said. “It’s my third batch. Trace made me throw out the first two attempts. Even the twins turned their noses up at it, and those two little garbage disposals will eat anything.”
“How on earth can you mess up rice pudding?” Gram asked. “Did I teach you girls nothing?”
“You only had a year after Mom left to influence me,” Abby said. “I seem to recall you throwing me out of the kitchen in disgust on more than one occasion. I was no better at cooking than I was at needlework.”
Nell chuckled. “That’s true enough. Let’s hope Bree has a knack for this, or you’ll all starve after I’m gone.”
“First of all, you’re not going anywhere for a very long time,” Abby said, slipping an arm around Nell’s waist. “And second, for every failure that Bree, Jess and I have, you can count on Kevin to get it right. Our brother inherited the cooking genes in the family. You wait and see. He’ll come in here in a few minutes with something that will have our mouths watering. What was his assignment this week, anyway?”
“He’s making my chicken and dumplings,” Nell told them. “I spoke to him a half hour ago, and he said his dumplings are lighter than air.” She looked doubtful. “We’ll see. It takes years of practice to get dumplings just right.”
“Oh, I think you can count on Kevin,” Abby said, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Gram might not be quite ready to yield her place as the family’s best cook. She seemed almost happier about their failures than about Kevin’s possible success.
Jess stepped in. “Gram, no matter how good Kevin’s dumplings are, they won’t be half as good as yours,” she assured her grandmother.
Nell looked pleased by the compliment. “I know you’re saying that just to spare my feelings, but I do appreciate it.”
Abby flushed guiltily when she realized she’d inadvertently upset Gram, but she wisely didn’t prolong the conversation. Instead, she turned her attention to Jess. “You look tired. Everything okay?”
“It’s been a wild couple of weeks at the inn,” Jess said, not about to reveal that she’d slept hardly a wink since that infamous kiss Will had placed on her at Brady’s. She hadn’t been able to get it out of her head. Always restless, she’d been even more so than usual since that night.
Worse, Will had been making himself scarce. She’d even tried dropping into Sally’s at lunchtime, to no avail. Jake and Mack had been there without him. Since she didn’t want anyone to guess that she was practically chasing after him, she’d stopped going there or anywhere else she might bump into him.
“Then it doesn’t have anything to do with your social life?” Abby said, a wicked sparkle in her eyes.
“I have no social life,” Jess declared. “None.”
“Really?” Abby said. “Then Will didn’t—”
Jess cut her off. “I haven’t seen Will in ages.”
Gram listened to all this without a word, but Jess couldn’t help noticing the smile that was tugging at her lips. She frowned at her grandmother. “What?”
“I was just thinking that it’s a good thing Will’s coming for dinner today,” Nell said innocently. “The two of you will be able to catch up. Maybe get your stories straight.”
“Will is coming for dinner?” Jess repeated. “Who invited him?” If it was her father or Connor, she was going to kill them. “And what do you mean about getting our stories straight? There’s no story.”
“That’s not the way I hear it,” Gram said, then gave her a defiant look. “And I’m the one