named Sassafras Grundel, who might or might not have magical powers, had been a hit from the beginning. His work had been twice nominated for the prestigious Newberry Award, and he’d reluctantly admitted that he’d been approached about the possibility of bringing the character to the big screen.
Considering the fact that their childhood had resembled an ongoing train wreck, it was ironic that Gabe had had such success writing stories in which good triumphed over evil and children had some say in their destiny.
For four hours every afternoon, Gabe set the laptop up on the kitchen table and disappeared into a make-believe world. The first couple of days, Matt had tried to avoid doing anything that might disturb his brother’s muse, but it had soon become obvious that, if Gabe had a muse, she was made of cast iron, because nothing short of a nuclear blast seemed to disturb his concentration, so Matt had stopped worrying about it and just kept working.
But this afternoon he’d succumbed to the lure of the glider without guilt. After all, this was as close as he’d come to a vacation in… Well, ever. He’d never seen much point in taking a vacation. He did plenty of traveling on the job, and the idea of taking time off so he could sit in his apartment and stare at the walls had never held much appeal, but now that a vacation of sorts had been more or less forced on him, he could see where it might have its uses. Maybe, when he went back to work, he would make it a point to take some time off now and again. If he went back to work.
He frowned a little as his pleasant lethargy retreated a half step. He didn’t want to think about work. His cameras were stuffed in his closet, and he’d thrown his empty duffel bag on top of them. At the moment he felt as if they could stay there permanently, but he knew that, sooner or later, he was going to have to make a real decision.
The sound of a car laboring up the long, steep drivewaywas a welcome distraction. Opening his eyes, he turned his head on the cushion, his mouth curving in a smile when he recognized the cherry-red Mustang easing its way carefully around the worst of the ruts. By the time Jessie had parked in front of the house and was getting out of the car, Matt had swung his feet to the floor and stood up.
“How far back did you leave the muffler?” he asked, coming to the top of the steps to greet her.
“I think it was the first bottomless pit I drove into.”
Her dark blond hair was drawn back from her face with a pair of gold clips, and she was wearing a dress again. This one was pink with tiny white polka dots, made out of some soft fabric that clung gently to her body before flaring out in a flippy little skirt that ended much too soon, exposing legs that went on forever.
He really hated it that he noticed those long, supple legs. And he didn’t like noticing the way her dress clung to every curve or just how nice those curves were. Dammit all, he’d known Jessie since she was a kid. But she’s all grown up now, isn’t she?
“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked. “Gabe made some lemonade yesterday.”
“Sounds good.” Jessie sank down on the top step as Matt disappeared into the house. Though it was ridiculous, she found herself grateful to have a moment alone to recover her balance, which had been unexpectedly rocked by the sight of him standing there, his blue eyes a little sleepy, his dark hair appealingly tousled, and all of him blatantly, appallingly masculine.
This was Lurene’s fault, she thought irritably. If Lurene hadn’t made a production over how attractive Matt was, she wouldn’t have noticed the width of his shoulders or the taut flatness of his stomach or the way his jeans clungto his lean hips. Yeah, right. As if any living, breathing female over the age of ten could fail to notice six feet of solidly muscled, incredibly good-looking male.
Jessie looked up as the screen door squeaked open and Matt came out carrying
Considering the fact that their childhood had resembled an ongoing train wreck, it was ironic that Gabe had had such success writing stories in which good triumphed over evil and children had some say in their destiny.
For four hours every afternoon, Gabe set the laptop up on the kitchen table and disappeared into a make-believe world. The first couple of days, Matt had tried to avoid doing anything that might disturb his brother’s muse, but it had soon become obvious that, if Gabe had a muse, she was made of cast iron, because nothing short of a nuclear blast seemed to disturb his concentration, so Matt had stopped worrying about it and just kept working.
But this afternoon he’d succumbed to the lure of the glider without guilt. After all, this was as close as he’d come to a vacation in… Well, ever. He’d never seen much point in taking a vacation. He did plenty of traveling on the job, and the idea of taking time off so he could sit in his apartment and stare at the walls had never held much appeal, but now that a vacation of sorts had been more or less forced on him, he could see where it might have its uses. Maybe, when he went back to work, he would make it a point to take some time off now and again. If he went back to work.
He frowned a little as his pleasant lethargy retreated a half step. He didn’t want to think about work. His cameras were stuffed in his closet, and he’d thrown his empty duffel bag on top of them. At the moment he felt as if they could stay there permanently, but he knew that, sooner or later, he was going to have to make a real decision.
The sound of a car laboring up the long, steep drivewaywas a welcome distraction. Opening his eyes, he turned his head on the cushion, his mouth curving in a smile when he recognized the cherry-red Mustang easing its way carefully around the worst of the ruts. By the time Jessie had parked in front of the house and was getting out of the car, Matt had swung his feet to the floor and stood up.
“How far back did you leave the muffler?” he asked, coming to the top of the steps to greet her.
“I think it was the first bottomless pit I drove into.”
Her dark blond hair was drawn back from her face with a pair of gold clips, and she was wearing a dress again. This one was pink with tiny white polka dots, made out of some soft fabric that clung gently to her body before flaring out in a flippy little skirt that ended much too soon, exposing legs that went on forever.
He really hated it that he noticed those long, supple legs. And he didn’t like noticing the way her dress clung to every curve or just how nice those curves were. Dammit all, he’d known Jessie since she was a kid. But she’s all grown up now, isn’t she?
“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked. “Gabe made some lemonade yesterday.”
“Sounds good.” Jessie sank down on the top step as Matt disappeared into the house. Though it was ridiculous, she found herself grateful to have a moment alone to recover her balance, which had been unexpectedly rocked by the sight of him standing there, his blue eyes a little sleepy, his dark hair appealingly tousled, and all of him blatantly, appallingly masculine.
This was Lurene’s fault, she thought irritably. If Lurene hadn’t made a production over how attractive Matt was, she wouldn’t have noticed the width of his shoulders or the taut flatness of his stomach or the way his jeans clungto his lean hips. Yeah, right. As if any living, breathing female over the age of ten could fail to notice six feet of solidly muscled, incredibly good-looking male.
Jessie looked up as the screen door squeaked open and Matt came out carrying
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