She gave a hesitant nod, tugging down the corner of her shirt and trying to think of a suitable explanatory icebreaker.

“Looks like it has itself one hell of a tree problem,” he deadpanned.

She allowed herself one small, relieved sigh. He wasn’t going to demand any excuses. Apparently the crushed truck served as perfectly adequate explanation for her presence.

“You’ll need a tow out of here. The weather is clearer than I expected and road crews are making good progress with the plows. I’ll put in a call to Don’s Auto and have those boys out here in a flash. They are good people, family owned, and won’t give you a runaround on the repair costs.”

“That would be great, thank you.” A good, honest mechanic was worth their weight in gold.

That’s when she noticed how neither brother was looking in her direction. Instead, they stared each other down, engaged in a drawn out and silent conversation.

Finally, Sawyer glanced back over, clearing his throat. “And your dad? He’s—”

“Fine,” she answered quickly. “Better than fine. He slept like a log, which is a funny expression when you think about it because logs don’t sleep, right? They roll which is . . .”

It was too ridiculously easy to babble when two identical pairs of bright green eyes focused on her, eyes set in two vastly different faces. Sawyer was handsome, no denying it, with those classic good looks that never go out of style. Wilder wasn’t a style at all, more of a statement, bold and a little savage. He pushed his chair back. “I’m going to go wash up,” he announced, rising.

Sawyer turned and instinctively reached out a steadying hand. One Wilder clearly didn’t need.

Quinn had a flash of understanding. People wanted to help Wilder but he resisted charity. He was a proud man. And strong. He didn’t need to be treated with kid gloves, but he also shouldn’t be allowed to rampage around acting rude, sullen, and downright hostile.

Except, when was the last time she graciously accepted assistance? Oh God, she was some sort of help rejector too. People kept asking what she or Dad needed and she’d just smile and chirp, “I’ve got it handled.”

She couldn’t ignore the blatant curiosity in Sawyer’s gaze once Wilder shut the bathroom door. Deciphering the meaning was the tricky part. Was it her overactive imagination or was he passing some sort of judgment after all?

She took another sip of coffee, annoyance combining with the dark roast to flood her mouth with a bitter taste. After all, how could he have left Wilder with hardly any food?

“Have you seen your brother’s fridge?” she said slowly. “He can’t be left without food and no transport.”

A muscle in Sawyer’s jaw flexed. “You spent the night with him, right?”

“Yes. Well, no. I mean, yes, but not . . .” Her cheeks burned. “I slept in his room, he slept on the rocking chair out here.”

Sawyer kneaded his forehead. “You’re both adults and it’s not any of my damn business where you choose to sleep, or not sleep as the case may be. But if you’ve spent a few minutes in my big brother’s company, you’re bound to notice he’s not exactly gracious about receiving help.”

“But that’s no reason to—”

“He hasn’t opened the door to me all week. That’s why I’m barging in so early, seeing if I could catch him bleary-eyed and docile. But I’m not taking him to do any shopping right now because tonight he’ll have that entire fridge crammed with turkey and cranberry leftovers.”

“Of course.” Quinn resisted the urge to face palm. Today was Thanksgiving.

Wilder entered the room with an audible groan. “I said I didn’t want to—”

“You’re coming,” Sawyer answered with a tinge of weariness as if they’d gone around and around with this conversation.

“I forgot today was a holiday,” Quinn said. “I’m so discombobulated.”

“Wish I could forget,” Wilder murmured.

Sawyer said nothing, but gave a slight flinch, as if the words hit a secret mark.

“Hey now,” Quinn chastised Wilder as he huffed back toward the table, looking and sounding like a grizzly fresh out of hibernation. “I know it’s early and I kept you from your bed, but that doesn’t mean that you can behave like a bear with a bee up its butt,” Quinn said.

Wilder’s head snapped up, gaze furious even as Sawyer burst out laughing.

“Hey, what are you doing this evening?” Sawyer asked after his chuckles subsided. “Want to join us Kanes for dinner? I can’t speak for this big lug, but the rest of us don’t bite.”

She waved him off. “Oh, that’s okay. I couldn’t impose.”

“Course you can,” Sawyer said even though Wilder’s folded-arm posture communicated otherwise.

Why was his dark and broody act so darn appealing? Never had she been such a cliché, all twitterpated for a mysterious guy. But like it or not, she was intrigued. What were his secrets? He either had one doozy of a story or she had the world’s most overactive imagination.

“You have plans for dinner?” Wilder asked at last.

“I . . .” No. She had planned to spend lunch with Dad. Mountain View Village was going to host their own midday food fest. Say yes, say you’re busy.

“Let me guess, you have a thing against turkey too?” Sawyer asked.

“Too?”

“My girlfriend, Annie, is a vegetarian. She’s making Tofurky, whatever that is.”

“No. I’m not a veggie,” Quinn said with a little shiver. “Mad respect to our plant-eating friends but I love my meat.” If it wasn’t for her fear of rickets she’d subsist on the stuff. “But that’s okay, I hate imposing . . .”

“Imposing? You know my other brother’s fiancée, Edie, owns the bakery in town, right? Word on the street is that she’s bringing five desserts. Five. Tell me how we could eat all that?”

She didn’t want to barge in on a holiday family dinner, but Sawyer was being insistent.

Wilder scowled like a gargoyle. Except the effect was sort of sexy. Which shouldn’t work because weren’t gargoyles monstrous? Confused frustration swirled through her stomach. Why did this guy tie knots in her mental circuits?

“She doesn’t have plans,” he rumbled. “But isn’t sure if she should accept.”

“Grandma will appreciate fresh blood at the table,” Sawyer cajoled.

“That’s cruel, man,” Wilder said.

“Grandma?” Quinn raised her brows. “Fresh blood? What, is she a scary vampire?”

“Scarier,” both men answered at the same time.

Quinn stared in disbelief. These were two of the more attractive and powerful-looking men she’d ever come across and she had worked for an action superstar. Who could strike fear in their hearts? “I’ve seen your grandma at the Chicklits book club but we’ve never spoken. What on earth is she like at home? Pointy ears. Sharp claws. Fangs that only pop out at night?”

Wilder smoothed a hand over what appeared to be an unwilling smile. “Come and see for yourself.”

“She doesn’t have fangs,” Sawyer said.

“Nah, she’d rather gnaw through your jugular,” Wilder added.

“Wow, you two really know how to tempt a girl.”

“Just want you to have the facts.” Wilder slouched back in his seat.

“Remember I don’t have a working truck at the moment,” she said.

“We can arrange a ride,” Sawyer answered firmly.

She eyeballed Wilder but he was busy turning a wooden chess piece over in his big hand, a knight from the looks of the horse. Wilder scraped the nose with a blade. Soon it was going to look like a donkey.

“I—”

“You’re doing me a favor,” Sawyer pushed. “Annie and Edie will kick my ass to the doghouse if they hear you spent Thanksgiving alone.”

“I don’t even know them.” She’d seen both women around town and they seemed nice enough and ran thick as thieves. Sometimes she’d walk over to Haute Coffee and see them sitting at the counter sharing a coffee and laughing and she’d keep going because their easy friendship made her jealous, and she hated feeling jealous. After all, she had Natalie, and her books, and Dad.