He laughed. “Nah, just beating up on guys on Sundays.”
“It seems to be working for you.”
“You look good, too. And you cut your hair.”
She swept her chin-length brown hair behind her ears. “It was getting in my way a lot so it’s more functional this way.”
He grabbed her luggage and they headed into the house. “You’re still gorgeous.”
“Thanks.”
His sister was beautiful, even more so now that she had cut her long hair. She had the kind of face that made people stop and look twice. It was heart shaped, and she had the sharpest blue eyes in the entire Cassidy family. The fact that she was also the smartest Cassidy didn’t hurt, either.
“This place is amazing, Flynn,” Mia said as she stepped inside. “I love everything about it. It’s got the fifties flair of a Craftsman with all the modern touches. And this kitchen—wow.”
He let her wander into the kitchen while he headed toward the back door, where he set her suitcase.
“Thanks. I really like it. You want a tour?”
“You know I do.”
He took her around the upstairs, where the bedrooms were, then out back, along the walkway leading to the guesthouse.
“I love this,” she said as he set her luggage just inside the door. “It’s perfect for guests. You give them plenty of privacy with a bedroom, bath and living area, a wet bar and mini fridge for snacking, and yet it’s still close enough to the main house. And still far enough away not to infringe on your action.”
He laughed. “There’s no action going on in the main house. Not at the moment anyway.”
She gave him a wry smile. “Too bad for you.”
“Why don’t you get unpacked? I was fixing lunch for us when you drove up. I should have that finished when you’re done.”
“Okay.”
He started to turn to leave, then stopped. “Oh, and call Mom and let her know you’re here. I told her you would.”
“I’ll do that right now.”
He left and went into the kitchen. The water had already been on to heat when he heard Mia drive up, so he kicked it into high gear. When it started boiling he put in the penne pasta, then made a salad and dressing.
Mia came in.
“Something smells good. What can I do to help?”
He handed her a knife and motioned to the cutting board. “Slice bread.”
“I can do that.” She washed and dried her hands at the sink, then began to slice the bread. “It’s weird seeing you in the kitchen.”
He pulled his focus from the salad and put it onto Mia. “Weird how?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just not used to seeing you so . . . in charge here.”
“I like to cook. I’ve helped Mom cook tons of times.”
“Maybe I just wasn’t paying attention. How’s the restaurant going?”
“Good so far. We’ll eat there tonight.”
“I can’t wait. I’m planning to be extremely critical.”
He forced back a smile. “You do that.”
He drained the pasta and poured the sun-dried tomato pesto sauce over it, adding basil and fresh Parmesan.
“My stomach is growling loud and insistent over here,” Mia said, laying the bread into a basket. “And that looks amazing.”
“Of course it’s amazing. I cooked it.”
“I’ll decide if it tastes as good as it smells.”
“Prepare to be wowed.”
She rolled her eyes and they headed into the dining room. Flynn had already set the table, so all he had to do was pour iced tea for them and bring in the salad.
He waited while Mia dug into the salad. “Balsamic vinaigrette?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“Really good and not from a bottle. I can tell because that bottled stuff is crap.”
“Picky, aren’t you?”
“Absolutely.” She scooped up some of the pasta next, and made a “mmm” sound. “This is really good, Flynn.”
He grinned. “Thanks.”
They ate and chatted about his football season and her year at school.
“Are you thinking of entering the PhD program as soon as you finish your master’s?”
She took a sip of iced tea, then set the glass down. “I don’t know. It’s a long commitment and to be honest, I’m kind of burned out on school. I’d like to work for a while.”
She paused, pushing her food around on the plate. Flynn knew his sister, and he knew that meant she had something on her mind she wanted to talk about, so he waited.
“Actually, what I’d really like is to start my own business.”
His brows shot up. “Seriously?”
She nodded.
“What kind of business?”
“I’ve been floating around an idea that’s gaining steam, at least in my head.”
“And what’s your idea?”
She paused again, this time taking a few more bites of food. He wanted to ask her, but he knew he had to be patient while she worked out in her head how she wanted to say whatever it was she wanted to say to him.
“A sports management company.”
He laughed. “You hate sports.”
She frowned. “I do not. How could I hate sports? My entire life has been deeply immersed in it.”
“Yeah, and you complained about it constantly.”