Steal My Heart, Trevor (Best Friends To Forever Book 2)

by Barbara Lohr

  When she got into her lime bikini, she wondered if it was too daring. Take a chance. Malcolm’s words came back to her. What was she worrying about? Daisy and Annabelle would love the turtles on her beach coverall and she pulled it on over the suit. A dash of peach lip gloss and she was ready.

  The doorbell rang promptly at twelve. “Wow.” When she opened the door, Bryn thought Trevor's eyebrows might disappear into his sandy brown hair. That spark in his eyes gave her the shivers. “You look...all green.”

  “Would that be turtle green?”

  “No, I think that would be Butter Bean green.”

  Ah, he had her there. She laughed, remembering how many times they’d recited “Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers,” challenging each other with the tongue-tripping words until they both were breathless. That was one contest she could win, although there hadn’t been many.

  Seeing the hamper, Trevor turned to scoop it up. “Let me get that for you.” Following him out the door into a gloriously sunny day, Bryn locked it behind her. From the back seat of his jeep, the girls were waving to her.

  Opening the back, he stowed the basket inside. She hopped into the front seat and turned. “How are you girls doing today?”

  “We’re great.” Daisy peered at her through daisy sunglasses. Score one for Mrs. Daniels.

  “Very well, thank you,” Annabelle said. Very well? Were these kids only four?

  Skinny legs tapping the carseats in their excitement, Annabelle and Daisy both looked as cute as could be in sleeveless terry sundresses and sandals. Annabelle's sandals glittered when she kicked them up into the sunlight. Daisy’s were plain green. She bobbed her foot when she noticed Bryn looking at them. “When we went to the store last week, I told Grandma I wanted sandals the color of baby turtles.”

  “Oh, I see.” She bet Mrs. Daniels loved that.

  By that time Trevor had climbed into his seat. “And that meant another trip to the mall for Grandma.”

  After they gave each other silly smiles, Trevor put the jeep in gear and they were off. His aviator sunglasses added an air of mystery. Excitement bubbled up inside every time she glanced over. With windows wide open, the breeze blew through the jeep. Tying a scarf over her crazy curls, Bryn was so glad she’d called him.

  Butter Bean Beach was in a secluded area along Willow Road. They heard the waves before they saw the ocean. Bryn drank in the scent of the water, not as fishy as the marina. The parking lot was half filled. Trevor pulled into a spot under one of the liveoaks. “This is amazing. Doesn’t look too crowded. Anytime we rent at Houghton Beach or Hilton Head, the place is jammed.”

  “This is kind of a local beach. We try to hide it from the tourists.”

  After helping the twins out, they grabbed the basket and trekked through the sand. A couple of other families had arrived, and one quickly set up a blue baby tent. Trevor had brought a blanket and he snapped it open. The girls whisked their little dresses over their heads, scrambling around in the sand when their sunglasses came off.

  Digging a spray bottle from her bag, Bryn held it up. “How about some sunblock so we don't get burned?”

  Trevor looked at her in amazement. “You think of everything.”

  “I just want to be careful.” The truth was she was terrified. These kids looked as pale as their daddy. “Please hold out your hands, palms up.”

  She sprayed their hands. “Now wipe it on your cheeks.”

  “This smells yucky,” Daisy grumbled.

  “Do as you’re told,” Annabelle said. Bryn could picture Mrs. Daniels telling them that.

  “Me too?” Trevor whipped off his shirt.

  Wow. Who knew? She dropped the spray can, and Trevor scooped it up. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine. Fine.” She was glad she could study his six-pack abs from behind her sunglasses. As a boy, he’d been so skinny. The man was ripped with a light dusting of chest hair.

  “Time to hit the beach?” Trevor asked. She threw the sunblock onto the blanket.

  “Yes!” the girls yelled. The family with a sleeping baby glanced over. Bryn pressed finger to her lips. “Be quiet now. You’ll wake the baby.”

  Edging closer to the white tent, Daisy took a peek.

  “Daisy.” At the warning note in her father's voice, she broke away and followed her sister to the water.

  “That baby is so tiny,” she murmured to Annabelle. “Daddy should get us one.”

  Losing her footing in the sand, Bryn was glad Trevor didn’t hear that. The water was cool and felt wonderful. They waded in until the water reached the girls’ knees. Yelping a bit, Annabelle and Daisy took their father’s hands.

  “This is great,” Trevor said, flopping onto his back. The girls started splashing each other. Water went everywhere and Trevor quickly put a stop to it. After that, Daisy and Annabelle decided they were minnows, crawling around on their hands in the shallow water.

  Smiling at Bryn over his daughters’ heads, Trevor said, “I suppose you and your boyfriend come here a lot.”

  Bryn shook her head. “Not really. He's more an action person. He likes to hike or bike.” She thought back to some of the “short hikes” she’d taken with him in spring at the state park. The bug bites had taken two weeks to heal. She rubbed her arms. “Sweaty, athletic activities.”

  He peered at her through his sunglasses. “Doesn’t sound like you.”

  “No. It’s not.” But she didn’t want to talk about Malcolm today.

  “Play with us, Bryn,” Daisy pleaded, grabbing one of her hands.

  “Okay. Want to learn how to do a back float?”

  “Yes, yes.” Daisy was all about it while Annabelle looked skeptical.

  “If your daddy will help.” She threw Trevor a smile and he immediately eased back into a float. The girls thought this was amazing. Bryn agreed, trying not to stare at the toned body stretched out in the water. For the next ten minutes they worked on teaching Daisy and Annabelle how to do a back float. Arms and legs tangled as they worked with the girls. Every time she felt Trevor’s wet skin accidentally slide against hers, she had to fight to breathe.

  “I’m cold,” Annabelle whimpered after a while.

  I’m burning up. Bryn ran up into the gritty sand.

  “Time for lunch.” Trevor raced them to the blanket. On the way, the twins took another peek at the baby. Bryn was equally fascinated. The baby girl looked so tiny, so fragile in her pink outfit, just enough to cuddle in your arms. She looked away. Time to set out the lunch. Trevor sprayed the girls again to make sure they wouldn't burn.

  “Peanut butter and orange marmalade?” She held up a sandwich, hoping they’d eat what she’d brought.

  “Mar-ma-lade,” Daisy said in three distinct syllables. “I never had that.”

  “This is one of my favorites.” Well, that seemed to do it. Daisy plopped down on the blanket while Bryn passed sandwiches and potato chips. Trevor opened lemonade and poured it into cups. She was amazingly hungry after all their time in the cool water. This was a day of discovery, watching Trevor with his twins.

  After lunch, he worked on a sand castle with Daisy and Annabelle. Bryn stretched out on the blanket, loving the warmth of the sand. Soon Trevor joined her, keeping the sand castle project in sight. “If you don't mind my asking, where's your gentleman friend this weekend?”

  “Gentleman friend?” she teased, loving the color that rolled up Trevor’s neck. They could read each other’s comfort level by that telltale flush. “He’s on a camping trip up on Lake Superior.”

  “You didn't want to go?” Trevor’s brow wrinkled above his sunglasses.

  “Oh, I couldn’t. You know, my shop and the turtles.” She spread her hair out on her shoulders to dry.

  When she looked up, Trevor was studying her.

  “What is it?”

  Adjusting his glasses, he pulled his eyes away. “Nothing. It’s just that your hair is so beautiful.”

  “No one thought so in grade school, remember?
”

  He ran a hand over his face. The rasp of his stubble sent a shiver down her spine. “I don’t like to think of grade school. I hated it when you left.”

  “Me too.” She smiled over, feeling the old connection they’d shared. “I missed our science projects.”

  “I missed more than that.”

  “Really?” She rolled onto her tummy.

  Trevor watched every movement. “Nice suit.”

  “Thanks. Back to why you missed me.”

  Eyes on the girls, he flipped onto his stomach too. Did he realize their shoulders were touching? “No one else knew our knock-knock jokes.”

  Now, that made her chuckle.

  Smiling, he snapped off a strand of seagrass, and turned it over in his fingers. He studied everything thoughtfully.

  Sand spraying everywhere, Daisy and Annabelle ran over with some rocks. “We can make a garden out back,” Daisy told him, very business-like. “So keep them safe, Daddy. Okay?”

  “Got it. Don’t worry. I’ll guard them.” With great care, he set the stones in the corner of the blanket. The girls dashed away for more.

  “Sure. More mess in the garage, although my mother probably won’t find that suitable.”

  “Suitable.” The word brought back painful memories.

  Trevor rammed a sandy hand through his hair, probably leaving sand in his hair with that one swipe. Too late he dusted off his hands in disgust. “Thanks for inviting us. I never would've thought of it.”

  “It's a half an hour drive. I wasn't sure you’d want to come.”

  Whipping off his glasses, he pierced her with eyes dark as the brown stones the girls were gathering. “Of course we’d come. Sometimes I’m at a total loss with the girls. I work too much. It’s not easy.”

  “I imagine so.” Not quite sure what they were talking about, Bryn went further. “I suppose you miss her.”

  He sent a bemused glance her way. “Who?”

  “Your ex-wife.” She dropped her voice so the girls wouldn’t hear.

  “Not at all.”

  “Oh, well. I didn’t know.” Why had she even mentioned this?

  He checked his watch. “My mother’s coming for dinner. I think we have to wrap this up.”

  Okay, so his wife was a touchy subject. Getting to her knees, Bryn began to repack the basket. “Does your mama come every Sunday?” Sunday dinner had always been an event at her house.

  “Not every Sunday, but most. I grill or my mother will do a roast.” He grinned. “She still likes to feed me and make sure her grandchildren are eating healthy.”

  She smiled at the family picture he was painting. “That's nice. My folks would have loved being grandparents.”

  Reaching over, Trevor squeezed her hand. “That must be so hard for you.”

  “Sometimes, but they left me with wonderful memories.”

  “You’re a very special woman. And I credit your parents with that.” He’d gotten so serious. Her stomach squeezed tight. “Well, that and my knock, knock jokes.”

  “Oh, you.” She swiped a hand at his shoulder. He dodged and they laughed. While they packed up, she felt like one of those candles that lit from within. Being with him made her happy.

  While the tired girls whined and complained, Trevor and Bryn herded them toward the car. This had been a great day.

  Once on the road, Daisy said from the backseat, “Daddy, tell us one of the knock, knock jokes you used to tell Bryn.”

  Bryn chuckled. “Oh, they’ve got you now.”

  “Right.” Easing the car down the bumpy road that led to the highway, he bit his lower lip.

  “Knock, knock,” he finally said.

  “Who’s there,” both girls called out.

  “Owls say.” Trevor grinned at Bryn.

  “Owls say who?” Daisy said while Annabelle looked puzzled.

  Laughing so hard, they almost couldn’t get the words out, Bryn and Trevor both called out, “Yes, they do.”

  The backseat fell quiet.

  “That’s not very funny,” Daisy finally said.

  Bryn turned her head slightly. “It never was, Daisy. But I laughed anyway. That’s what’s so funny.” And she broke into giggles again.

  Trevor looked outraged. They were on the two-lane road by now. “You mean you gave me pity-laughs?”

  Snuffling, she raised her brows. Back then, she would have done anything to shake him from a dark mood, like when he got an A minus instead of an A. “Why don’t we play ‘I packed my grandmother’s bag.’ But I warn you...your daddy’s really good at this.”

  The game got them all laughing. In the end Trevor let Daisy win, something he’d never stooped to with Bryn. By the time they reached her house, the girls had nodded off. The car smelled like sunblock and the ocean. Trevor had turned on the radio and soft blues played, lulling Bryn into total contentment.

  “You’ll probably have sand all over your car,” she said, feeling the telltale grit underfoot.

  He grinned. “No problem.”

  “Think of all the germs, Trevor.” She was needling him.

  “Are you testing me?” Arching a brow, he chuckled. “Am I that bad?”

  Trevor was laughing at himself? “Not really.”

  “I can’t tell you what this day has meant to me,” Trevor said as they sat there, the sound of a saxophone massaging her spine. “Having a friend to share a day like this.”

  Trevor had never been great with words. And neither was she. “It must be tough to be a parent alone.”

  “Yes. It is.” He cast a cautious look over one shoulder but the girls were fast asleep. “Even though my mother helps, it’s not the same. She’s older and has her way of doing things.”

  “Oh, I remember.” Sometimes Trevor would show up at school with his eyes red, as if he’d been crying.

  “You were always so lucky.”

  “Lucky?” She wound a wisp of hair around a finger. “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh, you know. Your parents seemed so...relaxed.”

  “Really?” To her they were just her parents. The two people who cared most about her. “I envied you, Trevor. You had everything.”

  He snorted. “Are you kidding? It was another War of Aggression every morning, from what I wore to how I combed my hair.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Her heart went out to the little boy who might be inside this awesome guy.

  “I survived.” Taking her hand, Trevor laced his fingers with hers and threw her a lazy grin.

  “Those peach roses were so beautiful,” she whispered.

  His smile broadened. “I sent them through the best flower shop in Sweetwater Creek.”

  “It’s always good to know that a friend appreciates you.”

  “You’re terrific with the girls...and with me.” He looked at the hands with surprise, like he didn’t know how they’d gotten that way. His grip loosened and she slipped her hand away.

  “That Malcolm of yours is a lucky man. I hope he knows that.”

  “Oh, I’m sure he does.” But she wasn’t sure at all.

  When Trevor leaned toward her, she thought he might kiss her. For a second she wanted him to. But that felt so wrong.

  Instead he dusted a finger over her eyebrows. “Careful. You don’t want to get sand in your eyes.”

  Gulp. “No. Guess not.” Right then, she didn’t know what she wanted.

  They said good-bye. She stumbled inside and slumped against the closed door.

  That slight flick of his fingers had spiraled right to her heart.

  Chapter 9

  Finally, it was happening. Midweek, Bryn got a call from Emily that Coralee had set aside some amazing dresses for the wedding. While she listened to Emily bubble with excitement, Bryn kept working on a birthday bouquet for Miss Charlotte. Vince, the widower she’d been “keeping company with,” as Miss Charlotte put it coyly, had ordered orchids and gardenias. The scent filled her shop.

  “Josie can come right after work tonight,�
�� Emily said, as Bryn arranged the orchids with just the right drape. “Will that work for you?”

  “I'll be there. Did Coralee have anything in peach?” Bryn asked hopefully. Emily had said they could choose any color and style they wanted. Peach was definitely the color for Bryn, especially now. The roses from Trevor were beginning to droop, but their rich scent still filled the room, along with the memory of their day at Butter Bean Beach.

  “We didn’t get around to colors. She said that a couple of brides had brought their gowns in from Atlanta. You know, the people who come to the coast to escape the city heat.” Emily gave an ear-splitting squeal. “I can’t wait.”

  “Me neither.” Trying on dresses would made Emily’s wedding feel real.

  “See you tonight. I may get there a teensy bit early.”

  “I’ll be there after I deliver a bouquet to a customer. Don’t you dare try on anything until Josie and I arrive.”

  “Got it. See you soon.”

  Usually Bryn stopped at home after work to check any turtle activity. Not much had been happening this week. She may not have to worry about that tonight. Weeding through the roses and lilies in her refrigerator cases, she sure hoped so. Unfortunately, Nanny hadn’t been feeling well. Bryn had taken over some of her homemade chicken noodle soup.

  Excitement jittering in her veins that afternoon, she dropped one of her small posy arrangements. The glass shattered and she grabbed her broom and dustpan. Luckily the vase was small and she could salvage the pink and red snapdragons, along with the pincushion zinnias.

  The shop fell silent around four, and Bryn decided to close up early. Hopping into her Mini Cooper, she drove to Miss Charlotte’s with her flowers. Of course, the older woman was thrilled. Bryn liked this part of her work. Then she continued to Coralee’s and parked in front. It had rained the night before and so the square and the surrounding sidewalks looked clean and fresh. Although the rain had dropped the temperature, the humidity was thicker than ever.

  Jumping out of her car, she didn’t bother to lock it. After all, this was Sweetwater Creek.

  Coralee’s had been a fixture in town for as long as Bryn could remember. The shop had been passed down to Coralee from her mother Deidre, who had named the shop after her newborn daughter. Deidre needed “pin money,” or so the story went. She brought her baby into work with her every day. Coralee had practically grown up in this shop.