In Your Dreams by Sarah Adams - 32

I’m on my way to the kitchen when Tommy stops me in the hallway. “It’s time to tell them.”

“No,” I say, ripping my arm away from his hand.

To say I’m pissed at Tommy is an understatement. He showed up a few hours ago with my parents in tow without any warning. But I think that was his intent—to catch me off guard before I could get things in order and have to tell them about the state of the farm. Why there’s half the amount of crew here these days. Why I work way past quitting hour.

“James,” he says, eyes sharp, voice louder than it needs to be. “It’s the perfect time. They’re both here. You’ve got nothing going on.”

“Shut up,” I whisper, letting my temper flare in my tone. I step closer and lower my voice even more. “It’s not a perfect moment just because you manufactured one. Because that’s actually why you brought them home, isn’t it?”

He grins like the little shit he is. “They were missing home. They wanted to attend the launch.”

“Missing home, my ass. What exactly did they say that led you to believe they were missing home so much that you should buy them two plane tickets for the next day to surprise me?”

Tommy shrugs. “Something about the sand being annoying. But it was all in the tone.”

I roll my eyes. “I’ve been trying to close the gap between us and you’re scheming to trap me with Mom and Dad. Classic.”

He huffs a laugh. “And just how have you been trying to do that?”

“I’ve been texting you,” I say, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

And he looks at me like I’m out of my mind. “Is that what those texts were for?”

“Yes. What did you think they were?”

“A call for help!”

A bubble of laughter pulls our attention toward the kitchen, where Mom and Madison are baking.

Tommy’s thoughts follow mine. “They seem happy to see Madison.”

Just at the mention of her name, warmth seeps into my chest. She came here tonight to tell me something. Something important. I’m scared to let myself even imagine what that something could be.

“Yeah . . . they really do.”

And then he takes a needle to my balloon of joy. “It makes it easier for when she agrees to date me. Integration into the family will be smooth.”

My glare cuts to him. “Right. Well. Best of luck . . .” I say, still tasting her on my tongue and not knowing whether that makes me more or less angry that my brother is pursuing her.

I aim toward the kitchen again, where I hear Mom and Madison laughing, but am stopped again, this time by my dad coming down the stairs. “James! Meant to tell you, I stopped by the restaurant earlier. It looks good, son.”

“Thanks. It’s nice to see the old greenhouse in working condition again, isn’t it?”

“It is. It’s also good to see you two boys working as a team.” My dad is standing tall in front of us, arms crossed and shoulders looking as sturdy as ever. But I know that appearances can be misleading sometimes.

“Yeah, James looooves that part. Just like he loved the idea of starting this restaurant.”

My eyes cut to my brother as he pushes his hand through his fluffy blond hair. “Why are you being such a shit right now?”

“Because I want you to tell him.” His gaze squares with mine, and I see a new set to his shoulders I’ve never seen before. It’s antagonistic, but also something else. . . .

“Tell me what?” asks my dad, moving to lean casually against the doorframe, looking so strong I think his body could hold up this entire place on its own if needed. I hate that I know it’s not true.

“Nothing,” I say, aiming the word and ominous tone at Tommy.

He scoffs. “Lies, lies, lies.”

I take a step toward him. “Would you please shut the hell up already?”

“You’re babying him,” Tommy says, glare cutting through me and all hints of amusement gone.

“Okay, boys,” my dad says, pushing off the wall. “Now I really need to know what’s going on.”

Tommy’s glare never wavers from me. “He is stronger than you give him credit for, and he wouldn’t want you to be shielding him out of fear for his health.”

I swear I’m going to knock Tommy’s teeth down his throat. “You better start running now so you get a head start.”

My dad steps almost between us, a hand pressing to my chest, holding me back. “James. What’s going on?”

But I don’t answer, Tommy does. “The farm is in bad shape—”

“You piece of—” I advance against my dad’s hand but he holds me back.

“James reached out to me for a loan,” Tommy says quickly and loudly. “But I told him I wouldn’t do it unless he found a way to modernize the farm and bring in additional funds. Such as a restaurant. He didn’t make the restaurant because the farm is doing so well he wanted to expand. He’s making it because without it—or possibly because of it—the farm is going to fail.” I flinch against that word. “And not only that, but he’s gotten an offer that he won’t take.”

“Stop talking.”

He doesn’t. “Anderson Food Distributions has offered him an incredible five-year contract that will give the restaurant time to grow enough to be something that could support the farm. But he won’t take it because he’s afraid he’ll let you down, and he’s keeping all of this from you because he’s scared you’re going to drop dead from the sudden truth.”

“Dammit, Tommy! Why are you doing this?”

“Because the men in this family are too damn stubborn for their own good!” he shouts, a vein surfacing across his temple. “You’re all going to put yourselves in an early grave trying to keep all your secrets, and I’m sick of it. I gave you every chance to tell the truth over the last few months and you were never going to because you’re too proud. You are following in Dad’s exact footsteps over this damn farm and you can’t even see it!”

His words startle me enough to stop pushing against my dad’s hand.

Dad looks at me. “Is all of this true, James?”

I swallow against a lump in my throat. “It . . . it’s true. All of it.”

I can’t read my dad right now. His brows are pinched together, eyes searching mine, but he doesn’t look angry. I think it would be easier if he were angry. If he told me he never should have left the farm to me in the first place and reminded me of what a legacy it is.

Instead, he asks, “If you didn’t want the restaurant, why are you launching it? Seems like that would only tighten things more for a while.”

In my silence, searching for the right words, Tommy speaks for me. “ Madison changed his mind. She was graduating, and by my calculations, he figured out a way to bring her home.” Tommy smirks at me. “You didn’t think I put it together, did you? Well, I did. Immediately. Because contrary to what you seem to think, I’m not an idiot.” My heart is pounding. “And by the way, if you ask me, I still think it’s a terrible idea to open a restaurant that you desperately need to do well with a chef fresh out of culinary school. And I told you I called and talked to the chef she interned with in New York, right?” No. “Apparently she has a track record of being overly emotional at work. Which is why I tried to get you to hire one of the other chefs, but—”

“That’s enough, Tommy.” This time it’s my dad who speaks, and with so much of an edge that even I wince.

But I forget all about Tommy and my dad when I look down the hall and find Madison standing motionless, lips parted in shock. She just heard everything we said. . . .

She pivots on her heel and rushes out the back door.