He followed them through a living room piled with boxes. Penny had moved into Cal’s house shortly after the wedding in early July. Even though that was nearly six weeks ago, she hadn’t done much in the way of unpacking.

“You’re judging me,” Penny called over her shoulder. “I can feel it. I know this mess violates your military code of honor or whatever, but just go with it.”

“Did I say anything?” Walker asked with a grin.

“You didn’t have to.”

She tucked her long auburn curls behind her ear and paused in front of the kitchen. “The rest of the place may be a mess, but the kitchen is perfect.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Walker glanced at his brother. “How many boxes did you have to find room for?”

“I lost count,” Cal said easily. “When I hit twenty-five, I figured there was no point in knowing.”

Penny was the executive chef at The Waterfront, one of four restaurants owned by Buchanan Enterprises. It was, in theory, a family-owned business, but only one of the Buchanan siblings worked there.

“I need the right equipment,” Penny said as she stepped aside and motioned for Walker to enter the kitchen. “You can’t create magic from crap.”

“You should put that on your business card,” he said as he took in the pale, buttery walls and the large pot rack hanging above the island. Without the dark red paint, the kitchen looked bigger. Windows let in light and brought out the colors in the new tile backsplash.

“You put in a backsplash but you haven’t unpacked or gotten the baby’s furniture ready?” he asked before he could stop himself.

Cal looked at him pityingly. “You had to go there, didn’t you?”

Penny’s gaze sharpened. “I’m sorry. Were you being critical just then? Did you plan for me to cook for you today?”

“He didn’t mean it,” Cal said, stepping between them. “Not everyone understands how your incredible mind works.” He lowered his voice. “Walker brought tools, remember?”