The Gratitude Guarantee (Boyfriend in the Bargain #4)

9. Zach

9

ZACH

N o sooner do we pull into the Hartfords’ driveway in the thin late afternoon light than a woman who looks like Brenna’s older twin comes striding out the front door. Brenna hops out of the car and wraps her in a hug.

“You made it,” the older woman says. “It’s so good to see you.” She pulls back and turns her attention to me as I round the front of the car, running her eyes up and down me with a scrutinizing expression. Apparently I pass muster because she extends her hand. “Well, hello, young man.”

Brenna looks only slightly anxious as she introduces us. “This is my mother, Elaine Hartford. Mom, this is Zach Dawson.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Hartford. Thank you for welcoming me into your home for the holiday.”

“Pssh, it’s no trouble, and please, call me Elaine.” She turns to Brenna. “You didn’t tell me he was so handsome.”

“Oh, I…no, I guess I didn’t,” Brenna stammers, looking anywhere but at me. I can barely suppress my amusement.

“Come in, come in.” Elaine gestures for us to follow her as she starts back toward the house. “Dinner will be ready in about half an hour.”

“We’ll grab our stuff and be right there,” Brenna says. I follow her to the rear of the vehicle to retrieve our bags and the pie ingredients we stopped for on our way. With a glance over my shoulder to confirm her mother is gone, I lean in close to Brenna. “How could you forget to tell her I’m so handsome?”

The speed with which her cheeks turn pink is remarkable. She thrusts the bag of food into my hands without comment. “Make yourself useful, oh handsome one.”

I swallow a chuckle. “Yes, ma’am.”

Inside the impressive two-story brick Tudor-style house, a tall older man with wire-rimmed glasses and intelligent eyes welcomes me with a friendly smile and a hand extended in greeting.

“It’s so nice to meet you. I’m Kevin Hartford.”

“Zach Dawson. Thanks for having me, sir. I appreciate you making room for me.”

“It’s no trouble at all. We’re always happy to host a friend of Brenna’s.” Emphasis on the word friend imbues his welcome with deeper meaning. For an instant, I question our decision to pass me off as her boyfriend, but I don’t have time to dwell on it.

“Daddy!” Brenna drops her bag to the floor to throw her arms around him. He returns her embrace and presses a kiss to her hair.

“Hey kiddo, it’s been too long since we’ve seen you.”

“Well, you’ve got me for the next couple of days.”

He pulls back to look at her, his hands braced on her shoulders. “I know, and we’re going to have a great time.” He leans in and whispers conspiratorially, “Your mother has been working overtime to put together a memorable holiday. She’s thrilled that you’re both here.” He winks at me over her shoulder.

“I’d better go put my stuff upstairs and show Zach where he’ll be sleeping,” Brenna says, slinging her overnight bag over her shoulder before reaching out to take the grocery bag from me. “Wait here for just a second. I’ll take this to the kitchen and be right back.”

I watch her disappear through a door at the end of the foyer and turn back to my host, who is now eyeing me. He crooks a finger to beckon me closer, lowering his voice when I take a step in his direction. “When Brenna shows you where you’ll sleep tonight, I hope you understand that you’ll be staying there all night. By yourself.” His meaningful look speaks volumes.

“Yes, sir. I understand.” I give him an easy-going smile. “I appreciate your candidness, Mr. Hartford.”

He leans back and gives me a nod. His expression is stern, but I think I see a glint of respect in his eyes. “Call me Kevin, son.”

Footsteps sound and Brenna reenters the hall. “Okay, follow me.” Oblivious to the exchange that just took place, she begins to climb the stairs without a backward glance.

I follow her as instructed, up the stairs and down a long hall with doors opening off each side. She leads me all the way to the end and gestures for me to enter the last door on the right ahead of her.

“This is your room. The bathroom is across the hall, and my bedroom is right next door, so if you need anything you can tap a message in Morse code on that wall right there.”

I drop my bag on the bed and laugh. “Duly noted. Anything else I should know?”

She presses her lips together, thinking, then shakes her head. “I don’t think so. I’m going to go downstairs and help Mom finish dinner. You’re welcome to tag along.”

“Sure.” It’s not like I have anything else to do unless I want to lay on the bed and stare at the ceiling until it’s time to eat.

She stops to stow her bag in her room, and I lean one shoulder against the door frame and gawk at the décor. “Wow, it’s very…colorful in here.”

The walls are a bubblegum pink, set off by aqua blue curtains and a rainbow braided rug in the middle of the wood floor. The bedspread is purple, and a variety of patterned and textured throw pillows rest against the headboard in a fluffy heap.

Brenna shrugs with a nostalgic smile. “I couldn’t decide on a favorite color, so I decided to incorporate them all.”

I gesture to her bright paisley overnight bag. “It looks like you’re still a fan of bright colors.”

“I am, though I like to think I’ve gotten a little more tasteful in my choices as I’ve matured. More intentional whimsy and less like a Lisa Frank store exploded in my room.” She nudges the rug with her toe. “I still like this rug, though.”

“What’s not to like?”

She looks around with a soft expression. “I have a lot of good memories in this room. It still feels like home, even if I’m not the same fifteen-year-old girl who picked all this out.” She glances at me. “What did your room look like in high school?”

“About like most teenage boys, I guess. I didn’t exactly make design choices so much as collect things in piles. I did have a few sports posters above my bed, and my mom gave me a framed photo of her and my dad.” I actually have that photo sitting proudly on my dresser still to this day. It’s moved with me many times and is always the first thing I unpack.

“My brother’s room was always a mess, too. You’ll get to meet him tomorrow. He and his wife will meet us before the race.”

“Isaac and Sara, right? And they have two kids?” I reach back into my memory to the briefing she provided via text last week.

“Derek and Dillon,” she confirms with a proud auntie smile. “They’re a handful. Mom said they’ll be staying with Sara’s parents tomorrow morning while Isaac and Sara race and help at the church. Then they’ll go get them and bring them back before dinner.”

“They live nearby?”

“About ten minutes away. I always thought Isaac would live somewhere more exciting than Knoxville, but I think having the twins early in their marriage highlighted the benefits of living close to home. The grandparents on both sides seem happy to be taken advantage of whenever they need a sitter.”

I can easily picture Elaine and Kevin doting on their grandchildren. “And your sister?”

“Heather and Ben will arrive late tonight with their girls. That’s when the fun will really start.” Her eyes twinkle. “Bella and Kenzie are my besties.”

I’m surprised at the twinge I feel as she talks about her family, particularly her nieces and nephews. I’ve been on my own so long that I don’t often think about extended family very much, but between meeting Brenna’s parents and hearing about her siblings, I feel a longing I’m not used to, and frankly, don’t care to dwell on.

I take a step backward into the hallway. “We’d better go downstairs before your dad comes up here to check on us. He was very clear there was to be no hanky-panky.”

“Are those the actual words he used?” She follows me out, embarrassment clear on her face. “When did he even have time to talk to you?”

“While you were in the kitchen, and that wasn’t the exact phrasing, but there was no mistaking his meaning. It’s a good thing we already agreed on no kissing since it sounds like it’s not allowed anyway,” I joke.

Brenna huffs as we start down the stairs. “I can’t believe them. We’re adults, for crying out loud. I should be able to kiss my boyfriend if I want to.”

I lower my voice to a whisper. “You do remember I’m not really your boyfriend, right?”

“Shh!” We’re nearly to the bottom now. “Someone might hear you.”

I chuckle and follow her into the kitchen, which I could have found by myself just by following the delicious smell drifting out. Elaine is slicing cucumbers at the island in the middle of the spacious kitchen, presumably for the salad in the bowl beside her. Behind her, I see a collection of pots and pans bubbling on the stove.

“What can we do, Mom?” Brenna asks, pushing up the sleeves of her sweater.

“Drain the pasta for me, hon. Zach, you can take the forks, napkins, and water glasses on the counter and set the table. It’s just through there.” She nods toward a door at the end of the room, through which I can see the empty table waiting.

“Sure thing.” I gather up the napkins and silverware as directed, thankful for an easy job that doesn’t require any real skill. I make a second trip for the glasses, then return for another assignment.

Elaine hands me the salad bowl and a pair of tongs. “Set this on the table, please, and the bread as well.” She nudges a basket of sliced golden-brown bread with herbs in the crust.

My stomach growls. I’m getting more excited about this meal by the second.

Brenna is right behind me with a serving dish filled with some kind of pasta in a garlic-scented cream sauce, which she sets in the middle of the table on top of a potholder.

“There.” She sets her hands on her hips and surveys the table. “I think that’s it. Mom went to go fetch Dad, so we can just have a seat and wait for them.”

Following her lead, I pull out a chair and settle in beside her. “This looks amazing.”

“My mother is a fantastic cook.” The pride on her face is evident. “Let’s hope she passed enough of those skills on to me to give us a fighting chance in the pie contest.”

“We’re going to work on that after this?”

“Yes, we’ll clean up after dinner and then kick my parents out. They’re the judges so they can’t know which pie is whose to keep things fair.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Brenna’s parents join us then, and Elaine gives Kevin a smile over her shoulder as he holds her chair for her, resting a tender hand briefly on her shoulder before settling into his own seat. It’s nice to see a couple still in love even after many years together. It kind of reminds me of my own parents.

“How long have you two been married?” I ask.

“Thirty-five years.” Kevin grins at his wife. “Can you believe my luck?”

“You certainly pushed that luck a few times,” she replies with a sassy look as she takes a piece of bread and passes the basket to Brenna. “How long have the two of you been together?”

“We…met about six months ago.” I keep my response vague and hope they won’t press, which I quickly realize is not a realistic expectation.

“Six months?” Elaine looks incredulous. “Brenna, why are we just now meeting him?”

“Because we, uh…our relationship only recently…changed,” she explains weakly. “We were only acquaintances until then.”

“But you won her over in the end,” Kevin says. He nudges Elaine. “Sometimes it takes some convincing, doesn’t it, dear?”

“You should tell Zach the story of how you met!” Brenna chimes in enthusiastically. Thankfully, her parents don’t seem to recognize what I know is a ploy to divert the attention away from the two of us and launch into the story eagerly.

I sense Brenna relaxing beside me as her parents tell their story and our plates fill with delicious food. I’m caught in this weird in-between place, a juxtaposition of enjoying myself while also maintaining a low level of apprehension that our subterfuge will be exposed. This should be an interesting holiday.