Adam (Farraday Country Book One)

Epilogue

"Will you two cut it out? That wallpaper isn't coming down on its own."

Brooks turned his back on Meg and his brother. Watching the two of them kissing and cooing like a pair of besotted teens was getting a tad uncomfortable. Wetting down another swath of wall, Brooks took the four-inch putty knife and, putting all his pent-up frustrations into the job, continued his efforts at peeling one hundred years of wallpaper off the parlor's east wall.

For just about a month the family had been spending a few hours here or there—and the better part of Saturdays and Sundays—ripping and peeling off wallpaper, replacing rotted studs and floorboards, sanding, scraping, crawling, piping. Pretty much doing just about anything imaginable to whip this old Victorian back into shape.

"Again"—this time Aunt Eileen's voice huffed—"I'd swear you were the first couple to ever get engaged." Shaking her head, their aunt stomped off.

"One little kiss," Adam muttered, pulling away from his new fiancée and returning his attention to scraping the soaked walls.

"One?" D.J. called from across the hall.

"Little?" Brooks faced his eldest brother again. "I was seriously thinking of tossing a bucket of water on you two. You know, to save the house from burning down."

"Ha, ha," Adam shot back.

Meg, on the other hand, sauntered over to her future brother-in-law, inched up on tiptoe and offered Brooks a chaste peck on the cheek. "Thank you for worrying about my house."

There was no playing upset with Meg around. For years the brothers had teased and roughhoused, but Meg had a way of chasing away all the bluster. "Anytime."

"Watch it. She's taken." Adam pretended offense.

As if there wasn't a single person in town who didn't already know that.

"Who's got the hammer?" Their father joined them in the parlor. "My hammer."

"This one?" Adam held out the framing hammer his father always used.

"Yes, that one." Shaking his head, the family patriarch returned to his demolition project of the first-floor powder room. Originally installed in a corner under the stairs, Meg had decided—for a formal bed-and-breakfast—something a little more spacious would be required. So Dad was absorbing the old coat closet into the space.

"Lunch is served," Eileen called from the new kitchen.

"Every time I walk in here, it takes my breath away." Meg scanned the newly remodeled room. Commercial-grade appliances, quartz countertops, new Shaker cabinets and an island big enough to seat every member of the Farraday clan. "This is fabulous."

"Heart of the home and all that." D.J. grabbed a tortilla chip and scooped up a glob of guacamole. "Always the best, Aunt Eileen."

Adam sidled up to Meg and, holding an empty plate in one hand, slid the other around her waist, whispered something only Meg would hear and gently kissed her temple. The gesture wasn't grand or life-altering or earth-shattering, and yet the depth of emotions passing between him and his future bride kicked Brooks hard in his breadbasket. Until now he hadn't given love and marriage and a family of his own any thought. Maybe it was time to rethink his policy of not dating locals.

Then again, Adamhadn't changed the steadfast Farraday rule. He'd simply found his destinystranded in the middle of nowhere. Brooks shook his head. No way would he get that lucky. What were theodds of finding another woman on the side of the road.