Goldie Locks and the Three Brothers Bear Read online

  “I’m Gretel, and I promise delicious food awaits you,” she said with a smile.

  I gushed. “This is so much fun,” I said toward Dylan, who seemed ill at ease. “Are you okay?”

  He curtly nodded and followed Gretel as she led us to a fireside table. Dylan held out my chair. I draped my silk wrap along the high back and tucked my yellow checkered dress beneath me. Dylan pushed my chair into the table, only a little too far. I held up a finger.

  “Kinda want to breathe this evening,” I said laughing. “Though this table could come in handy if we ever need to do the Heimlich maneuver.”

  Dylan’s face remained unchanged.

  “Didn’t like my hospital humor?” Bummer. My corny jokes usually work when I admit a nervous patient into the ER.

  Dylan shook his head. “I’m sorry. I’m really new to this.”

  “Huh.” I gently pushed my chair back from the table. “The other day you seemed like asking me out was as natural as…” I shrugged. “I don’t know a bear chasing honey—or in your case making honey pot wine.”

  Finally Dylan laughed, and I relaxed. “See, it’s that easy,” I said. “We’re just two complete strangers having dinner at the most romantic place in all of Amāre. No pressure.”

  His blue eyes softened like rain. “I can see why Hayden wanted to interview you.”

  “Hayden? I don’t know if he wanted to interview me as much as he had to interview me.” I slightly chuckled. “When a woman calls nine-one-one because she’s found a man sleeping in her bed it doesn’t take much thought that it’d be a good story—or at least an interesting one. No,” I shook my head and felt my hair bounce on my shoulders, “I think your brother was just doing his job when he ended up at my little house.”

  Dylan leaned toward the table. “That may be true, but I know my brother and the way he looked at you.” Dylan reached across the table for my hand. “Hayden was smitten with you. He should be sitting here with you, not me.”

  His hand was clammy, and I knew from taking enough pulses that when the body was in any type of crisis, adrenaline caused a decrease in the blood flow to areas like the hands. Clammy hands meant anxiety. He’s nervous. Albeit a date with Hayden had crossed my mind, I was out with the eldest Bear. I was going to make the best of a very awkward situation.

  I gently squeezed his hand to pump blood back into them. “But I didn’t come home to find Hayden sleeping in my bed – or making a mess of my other two beds.”

  Dylan leaned his head back and laughed. And suddenly his hands warmed beneath my touch.

  ****

  My brother’s laughter rose above the fireplace that separated our tables. I slipped Gretel a twenty to keep him and Goldie’s date out of my eyeshot. I didn’t think I’d have to worry about hearing them. Great. Just freakin’ wonderful.

  “So obviously you’ve eaten here before,” Anastasia said, bobbing her head. Long, brunette-colored, sausage-like curls hung around her plump face.

  No wonder the baker has the hots for her. “I have been here, and the food is delicious,” I said.

  Anastasia smiled. She was dressed in pink from head to toe. A splash of purple on her slipper-footed feet was the only thing to break up the dose of Pepto-Bismol that came at me when she placed her arms on the table. “So what’s yummy?”

  Goldie? I gritted my teeth to squelch the laughter that threatened to erupt from the empty pit of my stomach. I was probably the only guy that laughed at his own jokes. “The Magic Oven is known for its Raclette. I already took the liberty of ordering it for us.”

  “What?” Her voice could have broken glass. “You ordered my meal? What century do you think we live in?”

  “The twenty-first?” Is this a trick question?

  She crossed her thick arms over her ample chest. “I’ll have you know, Mr. Bear, that my mother raised me to be an independent woman. I make my own choices. It is only by making my own choices that I will live the life I want and deserve.”

  I nodded like an obedient dog. “Okay, I’m terribly sorry. I can get Hansel to prepare whatever you’d like.”

  Her steely eyes steadied me. She unlocked her arms and fanned her hand toward me. “Oh, I’m just giving you a hard time.” She fluttered her thick eyelashes. “I like to see what a man’s made of.”

  Please don’t put me in the oven and eat me. I held my breath.

  “I’m sure this Raclette is fine, but if you wouldn’t mind getting Hansel to drum up some chicken fingers and home fries that’d be swell.”

  I quickly exited the table and silently prayed a magical nymph would fly down and carry me away. I was so rattled that I turned right at the fireplace when I should have headed straight toward the kitchen. But damn if my date’s sudden smack-down didn’t get me turned all around. Suddenly I came face-to-face with Goldie.

  “Look who showed up for some dinner,” she said playfully.

  Dylan spun in his chair, and his face was ashen.

  “Brother, are you all right?” I was at his side in a minute.

  He shook his head. “Ah, I’m just.” He shrugged. “You know me. I’m all work and no play.”

  I gave him a hearty pat on the back. “That’s why I was so proud of you when you asked Miss Locks out to dinner.” Color began to filter back into my brother’s cheeks. “Besides the fact that you probably owed her some form of apology for ending up in her bed unannounced.” I winked at Goldie. “I think it’s great you’re out on a weeknight and not home mastering some new honey pot wine.”

  “Now, let’s not go crazy,” Goldie said with a return wink. “We want Dylan to master some new version of honey pot wonderfulness. His wine is the best thing to touch my lips in a long time.”

  I bit my lip to stop the instant retort that wanted to fly from my mouth.

  “So who are you with?” Goldie looked around the restaurant.

  Now I felt my face drain of all life. I lowered my voice along with my head. “I’m here with Anastasia.”

  “Oh, isn’t she Cinder Ella’s half-sister?” Goldie asked.

  I clapped my hands together loudly and startled us both. “Step. They’re stepsisters.” I eyed Goldie. “I don’t think there’s any relation between them.” I slowly shook my head and waved my hands like an umpire calling a play. “Like none. No relation whatsoever.”

  Goldie’s laughter was like a song whose melody I had always searched for. She awakened my soul, and I’d sit at her feet if it meant I could be in her company. “Would you like to join us?” she asked.

  I clasped my hands tightly together to prevent myself from cupping her porcelain face and kissing her full rose-tinted lips. “No, but thank you.”

  Dylan elbowed me. “You should join us. It’d be fun.”

  I released my hands and pointed toward the kitchen. “Nothing will be fun unless I get to the kitchen and back to my table before the Raclette does.” I wiped my face with my hand, but it didn’t erase how awful I felt. This night was just not shaping up the way I had hoped.

  “Hayden?” My brother’s voice was filled with concern.

  “Oh, it’s nothing a little chicken fingers won’t fix,” I said with a weak attempt at a smile.

  “Are you okay?” When Goldie stood, I caught my breath. Her yellow dress was outlined in a layer of sheer lace that bordered and hugged every curve of her delicious body. The neckline to her dress dipped just enough to see a hint of cleavage. Is that even legal?

  “Wow. You look amazing,” I said the words falling out of my mouth.

  When she twirled, her skirt kicked up to reveal layers of more lace. “Ah, thank you, brother Bear. I thought it was time to get out of my scrubs and into something pretty.”

  I couldn’t speak. Her golden locks were pulled back by a yellow bow that matched her dress. Damn. I eyed her Mary Jane high heels, white stockings, and ruffled, lacey anklets that hugged her skinny legs. I wonder whose bed she’ll be sleeping in tonight? Her outfit was just on the polite side of naughty.

&
nbsp; “Pretty is an understatement.” I cleared my throat. “Well, I’d better get back to my table.”

  “Don’t forget the kitchen,” Goldie said.

  My mind went blank.

  “You said you needed to go to the kitchen?” Dylan said.

  I snapped. “Right. I’ve got to change her order.”

  I tried to regain my composure, but unlike the startled, hurried, and unwanted feeling that Anastasia provoked, Goldie made everyone she encountered feel welcomed. I could see it on my brother’s face, and I felt it in every pore of my being. Goldie was the real deal. I wanted to ditch my date and be a third wheel on theirs. Instead, I headed toward the kitchen to salvage the rest of my night.

  ****

  I watched Hayden leave. In a pair of dark jeans that snuggled his ass, navy dress shirt with sleeves rolled up, and a black vest, he wore western well. I turned to Dylan, who was watching me watch his brother. I quickly looked down at my dinner plate.

  “This looks delicious,” I said picking at the melted cheese and wrapping a strand around the tines of my fork.

  “Hayden’s a good guy,” he said.

  For a moment, I closed my eyes and tried to remember everything my first nursing teacher ever taught me about patient-care when I was in school. Even though Dylan wasn’t a patient, the rules applied. And sometimes breaking the rules in order to serve the greater good was needed. So when a patient knew that their diagnosis wasn’t favorable, what they needed to hear wasn’t what they already knew. Sometimes what they needed most was to feel something they rarely felt. With my eyes closed, I heard the faint sound of music. I opened my eyes and looked into his soft baby blues and smiled.

  “Would you care to dance?”

  His face answered with the response that everyone at some point in their life needed to have—hope.

  The dance floor was empty. Dylan looked at me. “Are you sure we should dance?”

  I twirled and let my dress kick up. “And ruin showing this little number off?” I rolled my shoulders and inched my finger toward him as I made my way toward the center of the floor. “Come on, Brother Bear. Dance with me.”

  In a pair of khakis and red pullover, he looked like he belonged in a department store stocking shelves. I grabbed his hand and pulled him into me. He was at least six inches taller than I was, and that difference placed me directly in the center of his chest. He smelled like honey. I looked up at him and grinned.

  “You smell good enough to eat.” His cheeks burned bright red. “I mean it,” I said. “I love your wine, and you smell just like your vintage honey flavor.”

  “Occupational hazard,” he said and raised an eyebrow. “Though now it seems to be a benefit.” He quickly pulled me into him and then released me just as swiftly as the tempo of the music increased.

  Hell yeah! I smiled brightly as my dress flew out and in, and my spirits soared as the eldest Bear seemed to find his footing.

  “I love the colorful clothes you wear. From your orange scrubs to your yellow dresses,” he said in my ear.

  I looked up at him and smiled. “Not too much?”

  He shook his head. “No, bright colors they really become you.” He paused for a moment. “It’s your thing.”

  His compliment was so awkward, it was oddly charming. I placed my hand on his chest. “Ahh, Dylan. Thank you.”

  As I stood in his arms, I knew that the eldest Bear had ended up in my bed for a reason. Maybe it was to regain his footing on the dance floor. Or in dating. Who knows? All I knew was that he had a sparkle in his eyes that I wasn’t about to diminish.

  The music began to fade, and his eyes softened. “It’s been a while since I’ve been on a date,” he said.

  “I never would have known.” I leaned up and gently kissed his cheek. There was no passion, no energy, or promise. There wasn’t anything but friendship exchanged in that kiss, but from the look in Dylan’s eyes it was enough. “I’ve had a wonderful evening,” I said.

  Dylan squeezed my hand. “Let’s go eat and get drunk on my honey-pot wine!”

  I raised my shoulders to my ears. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  ****

  The chicken fingers and home fries made it to our table just as I heard Goldie’s voice between the fire place that separated our tables.

  “I’m starved,” she said sounding breathless. “Oh, my gosh! This is amazing.”

  Inwardly I smiled. Her first taste of Raclette.

  “I didn’t think anything could taste so good,” Goldie said.

  I looked at my plate of chicken fingers and sighed. Maybe next time.

  “What is she eating?” Anastasia’s voice pierced the blessed silence that had been between us since our chicken-filled meal had been delivered.

  “She’s probably having the Raclette,” I said without trying to hide the cynicism.

  “Hmmm.” Anastasia crossed her legs, and her feet clad in purple ballet slippers suddenly seemed enormous.

  “Wow. What size shoe do you wear?” I knew as soon as the question popped out of my mouth that it was incredibly rude, but we had long passed pleasantries and good manners when she placed her fork onto my plate after she polished off her meal and began eating mine.

  Something that resembled laughter rasped from her throat. “I’m a size thirteen. Momma has to have special shoes made just for me.”

  “No doubt.” It’s no wonder her foot didn’t fit into the stiletto the prince scoured the city with. I’m surprised she didn’t break the shoe before Cinder Ella was able to slip it back on.

  “This is the best meal I have ever had,” Goldie’s voice softly filtered through the wood smoke and into my ear like a whisper. Melancholy tugged at my heart. I should have been the one introducing her to Raclette.

  “I’ve got to know what she’s having.” Anastasia hefted herself from the table.

  “Where are you going?” Panic gripped my voice.

  “Well, duh, to try a taste. Didn’t you say your brother was on the other side of the fireplace?”

  “I did, but that’s only because you asked why I had taken so long to get back to the table.” I sounded as pathetic as I felt. I sure hope the baker is up to the task of dating the stepsister from hell. I know I wasn’t man enough.

  “Well, then, let’s go. Let’s go try a bite.” She reached for my hand, and I vehemently shook my head.

  “No.” The tone in my voice was slightly raised. But it didn’t give Anastasia any pause. She pushed away from the table, and her dress kicked up. But instead of seeing shimmering yellow satin or lace like I had on Goldie, I was submerged in a sea of pink.

  I remained seated with my arms crossed over my empty stomach. My date had gobbled down most of my meal. But I was not going to rescue her from herself. Nope. She’s on her own.

  She briskly walked away, and I listened intently. But there was nothing to hear. I leaned over our table and looked through the fireplace, but the flame was too high and too bright. All I could see was my date’s big, giant purple feet. Hell, three blind mice could spot those boats.

  I got up from the table and inched around the corner of the brick fireplace. My date was sitting in Goldie’s chair eating her food. What the hell? Where’s Goldie? Did she eat her, too?

  I glanced, but I didn’t see Dylan or Goldie in either direction. Crappity, crap, crap. If I don’t stop her, she’s going to eat the entire wheel of smoked cheese. When I suddenly appeared in front of the table, Anastasia didn’t even bother to look up. She continued to dip pieces of Goldie’s perfectly torn apart baguette into the pot of Raclette. Hansel had served it to them old-school fondue-style. Instead of shavings of melted cheese, they had a pot of gooey goodness to dip into. It was romantic as hell, and Anastasia was eating what was left of my brother’s first date in a very long time. Hells to the no.

  “Stop eating and get up from the table,” I said in an authoritative voice that made Anastasia actually take note.

  “Just one more bite,” she said with
her plump cheeks overloaded with bread and cheese.

  “No.” I held out my hand.

  She slapped it away.

  I shook my head and gritted my teeth. “Listen let’s not make more of a scene than we already have.”

  “This is delicious,” she said and dipped the last piece of Goldie’s baguette into the fondue.

  I hit my breaking point. I gently reached for her forearm, but I’d tackled linesman with smaller arms than this woman. “It’s time to go.”

  Anastasia pushed away from the table, but her ginormous feet got trapped in the tablecloth. I watched in slow motion as she fell toward me. I braced for impact, but my date and her feet came crashing down on me. It wasn’t just her curled hair that looked like sausage links; she smelled like them, too. I held my breath, but it did nothing to mask the very strong and unappetizing scent of garlic, pepper, and onion that hit me and hit me hard. It was like getting slammed upside the head by an Italian meat cart.

  When we finally untangled ourselves, I brushed myself off and glanced at the table. The place settings were strewn, and cheese dripped off the sides of the fondue pot. Otherwise nothing needed to be replaced other than Goldie’s entire meal.

  “Oh, don’t worry about the mess. I’ll call my stepsister, Cinder, and have her clean it up. She’s good that way,” Anastasia said.

  I closed my eyes and wished I could click the heels of my boots together three times and be home or anywhere other than where I was. When I opened my eyes, Gretel was within reach. I flagged her over. She immediately stood before me.

  “Could you please bring a new batch of Raclette and bill me?” I looked at the crumbs left on Goldie’s plate. “And fresh bread? I know it’s getting late, but do you think Hansel could bake a new batch of baguettes?”

  Gretel smiled in my direction, and it was a welcomed sight. “Anything for our favorite brother Bear.”

  “Thank you.”

  I turned to Anastasia and was about to end what never should have started when Goldie walked up behind her.