Falling For The Right Brother. Kerri Carpenter

With his hand on the brass doorknob of the opulent front door, he asked his baby brother, “Are you happy?”

      “What?”

      “Answer the damn question, Jasp.”

      Jasper let out a long exhalation. “I’m fine. Stop worrying about me. Things are going fine.”

      But he did worry about him. More than his brother realized. Because Jasper had stepped up for him and Cam would spend the rest of his life making it right.

      “Hey, bro. Answer me this.” Cam waited for Jasper to meet his eyes. “Do you really not remember Elle Owens?”

      Jasper shrugged. “Kind of. But if you say she’s gorgeous now...”

      Unbelievable. Because to Cam’s way of thinking, the woman he’d picked up this morning was pretty damn unforgettable.

      “I never said gorgeous.” But he very easily could have. Suddenly, Cam felt incredibly uncomfortable.

      His brother grinned as Cam flipped him off and left the house, thoughts of just how gorgeous Elle had become following him out the door.

       Chapter Two

      “Cancer-free as of today.”

      The breath she let out was full of relief. Elle had been holding her jaw so tight that her face actually ached.

      “Seriously?” she asked tentatively. She knew better than anyone that her dad had a habit of downplaying. The fact that he hadn’t shared his diagnosis—even during their recent Christmas visit—until a couple weeks ago still had her seeing red.

      “Cross my heart.” Her dad kissed her on the head before engulfing her in a long, hard hug. Nothing could have felt better. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to pick you up this morning.”

      “Oh, don’t worry about that.” She waved a hand in the air as she took in her father. He looked mostly the same, a little thinner maybe, and a bit pale. But that was to be expected. “Tell me everything the doctor said, and start from the beginning.”

      Even though he rolled his eyes, Elle held firm. She would get the truth of the situation even if that meant calling the doctor herself.

      “Our food is going to get cold,” he said, gesturing to the spread on the table.

      “It won’t if you hurry up and tell me.”

      “You’ve always been the most stubborn little thing,” he said with a laugh.

      She returned with a chuckle of her own. “Wonder where I get that trait from.”

      “Fine, fine. The treatment seemed to work. When I went back in today, doc said the scope we did last week didn’t detect any cancerous cells.”

      He was beaming and Elle wanted to share in his joy, but she’d done a fair amount of research on bladder cancer. They would need to stay on top of this to ensure it didn’t return. Her dad would have to get scopes often and probably for the rest of his life.

      A small concession for keeping him in her life. With her mother already passed, Elle would do anything to protect her only remaining parent. Even though she barely remembered her mom, she wanted to think that her returning from Italy would have made her proud.

      But for the moment, she’d try and enjoy the victory with him. She reached for a pair of wineglasses when an invitation on the counter caught her eye.

      Her father followed her gaze. “Mrs. Dumont is having another party on Friday and the theme is Printemps.” He rolled his eyes as he took the wineglasses from her hands.

      “Springtime,” Elle murmured. “Well, that’s a fitting theme.” She leaned back against the counter. “Are you going to attend?”

      He let out a loud chuckle. “That’ll be the day. Don’t know why they even invite me to those damn dreaded things.”

      Elle smiled and they sat down at the table and toasted with a bottle of wine she’d brought back from Italy.

      “To your health,” she announced, her glass held in the air.

      “To my baby girl being home.”

      “Cin cin.” With that, they clinked glasses.

      To celebrate her return, they were enjoying a huge bowl of spaghetti and meatballs. Her father had insisted on cooking “his specialty.” Elle had to laugh. She couldn’t even begin to count the number of times they’d feasted on this exact meal when she’d been growing up.

      Not to mention that she’d lived in Italy for the last six years, plus one year of study abroad in college. She’d been spoiled by the outstanding culinary pleasures of Italy. But watching her father slurp up his spaghetti, with sauce dotting his chin, seeing the pride when he announced that he’d heated up the frozen meatballs and garlic bread, made this the best pasta she’d ever tasted.

      As they ate, Elle filled her dad in on her flight and he told her some of the local Bayside gossip. A nice breeze came off the bay and filled the house with the awakening scents of early spring.

      “I have a friend in Florence who would go nuts over this,” Elle said, referring to the chocolate éclair her father had bought at the local bakery.

      “Speaking of people you know in Italy...”

      Oh, jeez. Her dad was anything but subtle.

      “What about that nice fellow I met at Christmas when I was visiting?” he asked.

      “Marco,” she said.

      “Yeah, him. He seemed nice.”

      Marco was great. Sexy and sweet. They’d dated for the last year. “I didn’t know how long I would be here and neither of us wanted a long-distance relationship.”

      “You don’t have to have one. Why did you come back to Bayside, Ellie?”

      His question stung. Did he not want his only child here with him? For you. Because I was worried about you, of course. “I guess I just needed a change of scenery.”

      “You guess, huh? Well, I just hope somebody wasn’t worried that their aging dad needed a chaperone...”

      Biting back a smile, she shook her head. “Never.”

      “Ellie...”

      “Elle, Dad. I go by Elle now.”

      “Right, sorry.” He patted her cheek. “You know you’ll always be my little Ellie.” The uncharacteristic sentimentality came and went before she could blink. Quickly, her dad returned to his usual pragmatic ex-cop self. “I’m worried. What are you going to do here? There aren’t any galleries or museums in the area.”

      She chewed on her lip before rising to close the window. The truth was she had no idea what she would do for work. She’d contacted every museum within an hour’s drive of Bayside—not many—and come up empty-handed. Italy might have the most fantastic jobs for her, but Bayside had her family. A family that she had been desperately worried about.

      Financially, she would be okay for a couple months, especially with her father refusing her offer of paying rent. Still, she’d need to find some kind of job.

      Returning to her seat, she looked at her father. “I’m working on it. Don’t worry.”

      He pinned her with one of his cop stares. “‘Don’t worry.’ When you have a kid someday you’ll realize how stupid that little statement is.”

      Elle followed her dad when he rose from the table, taking their plates into the kitchen. “Daddy...”

      Dropping a plate, he spun back to face her. “I will always worry about you.”

      Sighing, she did the only thing she could think of. She wrapped