Free All or Nothing by Deborah Cooke Page A

everything about etiquette,” Maralys said. “She could set up one hell of a consulting business.”
    â€œBut the choice should be hers,” Zach said, speaking emphatically. “I didn’t think it would matter that much to any of us and I wanted her to be without worries.”
    â€œIt didn’t matter to me,” James acknowledged. “Or to Philippa. And Matt is okay with the pay out scheme you devised for him buying our shares of Grey Gables. But are you okay with it, Zach?”
    â€œWho cares?” Zach tried to shrug off the question with a grin. “I land on my feet.”
    â€œ I care,” James said with force. “If you need cash, you come to me first.”
    It was an unexpected offer and it surprised Zach. “I don’t need much,” he said but got no further.
    â€œI know you’re frugal,” James said, interrupting him. “But I don’t want you to feel that you have to go back to selling to make ends meet.”
    â€œI’m done with that.”
    â€œGood. But if you need a loan, this branch of the Bank of Coxwell is open. I’m your big brother and I’m running late on taking up that responsibility.”
    â€œWell, I don’t know. You’ve already saved my butt a bunch of times. Thanks for that.”
    â€œNew start?” James asked, offering his hand.
    Zach smiled, genuinely pleased. “Okay. Thanks. New start.” The two brothers shook hands, sealing this unexpected accord.
    For the first time in his life, Zach felt attacked by warm-fuzzies in the presence of his family.
    Maybe he should have gotten decked sooner.
    Then Maralys shooed James out the door. “You’re late, Mr. Coxwell. I promise to tell you all the juicy details tonight, if there are any. Let’s have a quick review before you go.”
    James paused on the walk and started to tick items off with his fingers. “Okay, official synchronization: Zoë and I are on the road tonight. Soccer for Jimmy at six-thirty; swimming for Johnny at seven; pick them up at eight and eight-fifteen respectively; pick up your father from euchre at the community center at eight-thirty; everyone back here for the bath and tooth brushing routine, then I’ll see you at Casa Pickle at nine-thirty.”
    â€œI didn’t know you were domesticated,” Zach teased, getting his own back.
    James grinned. “You bet.”
    â€œIt can be done,” Maralys intoned. “We have the technology to harness the wild Coxwell male...”
    The two exchanged another one of those hot looks and Zach cleared his throat lest they go at it on the porch. “What’s Casa Pickle?”
    â€œMaralys’ studio and office,” James said. “It used to be a pickle factory.”
    â€œNo kidding?”
    â€œNo kidding. When the humidity is right, you can smell the vinegar.” Maralys grimaced. “But the space is phenomenal.”
    â€œEven with Antonia making art all around you,” James joked.
    â€œI’m getting used to it.” Maralys smiled, then shooed him away. “Synchronization right the first time, counselor. You’re clear for takeoff.” Maralys waved at James, then nudged Zach. “There’s that incisive Coxwell legal mind at work again.”
    James turned and shook a finger at her. “You’d better be ready to leave by nine-thirty, Maralys. Tonight I’ll need a glass of wine, with you and no computer code.”
    â€œTen.”
    â€œNine-thirty.”
    â€œDefinitely by nine-forty-five.”
    James heaved a sigh of forbearance. “Well, I’ll just have to change your mind.” He winked when she laughed, then strode toward the T.
    â€œDoesn’t that sound promising,” Maralys said, her eyes dancing with anticipation. “Funny how you don’t find your brother persuasive. I find him irresistible.”
    â€œThat’s probably a good thing,” Zach