“But it’s my party,” he said, a wheedling smile on his face. His hips pressed closer to hers as he pinned her against the bullnose tile.
She laughed up at him. “You’re in a mood.”
“Mmm,” he agreed. “Getting all his limbs in order can do that to a man.”
The final cast had been removed. Though he wore a soft splint in its place, he’d come home from the doctor’s upbeat and energized. Likely already thinking of his return to active duty.
That thought threatened her own mood, a little melancholy creeping in at the idea of their time together coming to an end. But she wasn’t going to think about the future. Not tonight.
With a saucy smile, she tilted her hips, pressing into the thickness she felt between his legs. “This limb seems to be in fine form, too.”
He bent to her ear, his hot breath sending chilly tingles down her neck. “You are such a naughty girl.”
“But I don’t have time to show you just how naughty,” she said, shoving at his shoulders. “Remember? Addy and Baxter called to say they wanted to have dinner with us.”
His big body didn’t move, even when she tried shoving again. “Is it too late to phone and put them off for—”
Vance hadn’t even finished his sentence before the other couple was walking into Beach House No. 9, both of them carrying grocery bags and wearing high-wattage smiles. As Layla helped unpack the groceries, Vance snatched a magazine from Baxter’s hand.
“What’s with the CarBuy mag?” he asked his cousin. “You in the market for another car?”
“Research,” Baxter replied. “I need to find the right price to ask for my Beemer.”
Vance blinked, and then he stumbled back and fell into a chair at the kitchen table. “Is it just me, or are there pigs flying around this room?”
“Ha-ha,” the other man said. “It’s not a miracle that’s making me sell the roadster...it’s marriage.”
Addy made a little noise, half distressed, half pleased. “Baxter. We talked about this. It’s too soon to be throwing around that word.”
“You like my self-confidence,” he said, and snagged the blonde with an arm around her neck to bring her close. “And you love me.”
Layla felt her eyes go round. Vance looked equally startled. “Um...is there some news we should know?”
Addy’s face was pink but she hadn’t moved away from Baxter. “Yes. It’s so cool. We’ve solved the mystery of Sunrise Pictures.” Then she told them of a letter Baxter discovered that made clear it wasn’t an affair that had ended the company, but Edith’s own wish to be out of the business.
“So now you know,” Layla said.
Addy nodded. “But not everything. The Collar is still missing. Edith put it somewhere for safekeeping...I think here at the cove. Baxter believes it’s in an undiscovered bank safe-deposit box, but that’s because there’s no romance in his soul.”
“My soul has romance,” he protested. “But my brain says no man would hide a priceless necklace in a beach cottage.”
“Ah, but no man did,” Addy pointed out. “And shortly after Edith took action, there came the Great Depression. People didn’t hold a great deal of faith in banks. I bet she thought it was just fine wherever she’d stashed it.”
“But wouldn’t she have told someone where that was?” Vance asked.
“She didn’t tell Max in the letter she wrote him.” Addy sighed. “And then she died a few years later, unexpectedly, of pneumonia. Perhaps she never had a chance.”
“Or perhaps some visitor to Crescent Cove found it,” Vance said, “and took it home with him or her, never knowing that it’s a real treasure.”
Layla frowned. “I don’t like that ending to the story.”
“All of that is old news, anyway,” Vance said. He turned his gaze on his cousin. “I didn’t forget the new news you just dropped five minutes ago. Selling the Beemer? Did you actually use the word marriage?”
Baxter stood behind Addy, a hand on each of her shoulders. “We’re official.”
Layla’s brows rose. “Officially...engaged?”
“No,” Addy said at the same time that Baxter mouthed yes.
“I promised I wouldn’t buy a ring for two weeks,” he added.
Still, their officialness called for handshakes and hugs and congratulations. Vance got everyone their beverage of choice, which they took out to the deck to enjoy with cheese, crackers and crudités. The men gathered near the grill at one corner, preparing it for the steaks they were serving for dinner. Layla and Addy stretched out on side-by-side lounges.
They both gazed on the cousins, so similar in size and coloring. There was a lot of trash-talking bouncing between them, the insults coming fast and easy in the way of men who are close. It brought to Layla’s mind the recent afternoon she’d spent on the deck with Vance and Fitz. That relationship seemed on the mend, and she was glad for them both.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Addy said.
Layla glanced over. “Right this second? That the smile you’re wearing is awfully smug.”
“Really? I feel more surprised than smug.” Then Addy pursed her lips, seeming to consider. “But smug works, too.”
“I can’t believe it happened so fast.”
“We had a...I guess you’d say a one-night stand, six years ago. I hadn’t seen him since, but once we met again, the feelings were there. Again. More. Better.” Addy lifted her hands. “Best.”
“Just like that?”
Addy slanted Layla a look. “Why do you sound so amazed? It’s not as if I haven’t noticed there’s only one downstairs bedroom currently in use.”
Now Layla was the one flushing. “Well...ah...um...”
“See? It happened to you, too.”
No, Layla reminded herself. Addy and Baxter had become a couple with a future. She and Vance were a couple with an end date. As gloomy as that sounded, it was the truth. So no sense in wishing for sunnier prospects. The best thing to do was to enjoy today’s sunshine—something Uncle Phil was always reminding her to do.
Attachment is the source of suffering, he’d say. It only hurt to wish for things you couldn’t have.
So when Vance and Baxter approached them, she forced her heart to lighten and smiled at the pair. How wonderful that they could all be here, at this moment, she thought. It’s enough.
When Vance nudged at her legs to make a spot for himself on her chaise, she shifted, bringing up her knees. His back was warm against her shins as he leaned against her. Even though they had no future, she didn’t stop herself from reaching out and tracing the curve of his heavy biceps.
“So, Addy,” Vance said, patting Layla’s shin in an absent but affectionate gesture. “What’s your secret? How did you get Bax to drop his precious life schedule and commit to his lady a couple of years early?”
“Paris,” she said promptly. “I told you guys about my upcoming year of study there. He didn’t want to lose me to some man who can actually speak French.”
Baxter tweaked her nose. “I would have missed her too much if she went without me.”
Layla would miss Vance, too, no matter how often she told herself about end dates and nonattachment. Without thinking, she curled her fingertips under the waistband of his jeans. He glanced back at her, a question in his eyes, and she hurriedly removed them. But then his own hand reached back and caught hers, even as he questioned his cousin.
“If she went without you, Bax?”
The other man had straddled the second chaise behind Addy and she was now sitting between his legs. He toyed with her feathery hair. “Didn’t anyone tell you?” he asked, frowning.
“Tell me what?”
“I quit. Two days ago I quit Smith & Sons Foods.”
Vance’s fingers squeezed down on Layla’s, in shock, she imagined, at the news.
“I didn’t know you hadn’t heard,” Baxter continued.
“Why would I?” Vance asked. “I’m not involved in the business.”
&n
bsp; And it so clearly pained him that he wasn’t, Layla thought.
“Well, I shouldn’t have been, either,” Baxter said. “My heart was never in it.”
“If Granddad was still alive he’d be sad to see you go.”
“If our grandfather was still alive, lots of things would be different,” Baxter said quietly.
“Yeah? You think?” Vance looked off toward the horizon, then drained his beer. “Anyone want something else to drink?”
Layla saw the set expression on his face as he rose and turned toward the house. He was gone for longer than it took to grab another beer. His face was calm when he returned, but instead of sharing her space, he leaned against the railing, putting distance between them.
Ignoring the urge to go to him, she closed her eyes and willed herself to appreciate the warmth of the setting sun, the smell of the briny air, the ceaseless rush of waves on the beach. Stay in the moment. Enjoy the moment. Stay in—
Baxter’s voice interrupted her mantra. “There’s going to be some reorganization in the company with me leaving.”
Vance grunted.
“You have any ideas about that?” his cousin asked.
“It’s none of my concern.”
“I think they should move Fitz into my place. That would open up his spot on the growing and distribution end and—”
“Grove management. Get somebody in-house to do that. Get rid of those bloodsuckers from GreenWise.”
“Why?” Baxter asked. “They do a good job.”
“They do the job for too many growers in avocado country. It’s better to have someone focused on our single interest.”
Layla opened her eyes. Did Vance realize how he’d slipped from indifference to expressing an opinion with an our in it? Baxter was studying his cousin, too, his eyes narrowed.
“I see your point,” he said. “I still say it’s a good idea to move Fitz into the business end. Then you take his spot and add in grove management, as well.”
“What?” Vance asked.
“Yeah, it’s twice more work than what Fitz is doing now, but he’s gotten lazy in his old age. And you’ll want to prove yourself to everyone.”
“You’re nuts.” Vance looked a little nuts himself. “They’d never let me in.”
“How do you know unless you ask?”
“I’ve asked before,” Vance said bitterly. “We know how that turned out. It would be the same this time, too.”
“What if you say it’s what you want? Because I can see that it’s the truth.”
Layla held still, afraid to breathe because she could see it was true, as well. And she could see something else...her traitorous self considering there might be a future with Vance, after all.
Don’t go there, she commanded herself. No.
Then he echoed her thought, shaking his head with finality. “No.”
Baxter sighed. “But—”
“Let’s just enjoy the evening, okay?” Vance said. His glance moved from his cousin to Layla.
“Great idea,” she agreed, adding a bright smile. She was nothing if not a good soldier. “I’ll get on dinner.”
As she walked toward the house, Vance caught her hand. “And I’ll help.”
She twined her fingers with his. Stay in the moment, she whispered soundlessly. Stay in the moment.
It’s enough.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THE DAY AFTER BAXTER’S surprise announcement, Vance accompanied Layla and the Karma Cupcakes truck to a farmers’ market held in a parking lot a forty-minute drive from Crescent Cove. Phil had gone to an afternoon lecture on global travel at a local community college, so Vance had tagged along with the baker to help her sell her wares.
He didn’t want to be alone.
Which was nuts because he’d spent months living inches from a bunch of half-clean guys at a remote outpost and expected to be rejoining them soon. He should be reveling in solitude while he still could get it. But being without Layla at Beach House No. 9 gave him too much time to think.
There was a spot opening up in the family company.
He was not going to get fixated on that, he reminded himself. “You want the bistro chairs and tables set up?” he asked Layla as she moved cupcakes from the boxes to the display cases.
“Yes, please. Then we can check out the other merchandise if you like. I usually take a turn down the aisles before the market opens.”
Sounded good. More distraction from family matters.
He took Layla’s hand as they strolled through the parking lot. There were a couple of other food trucks, but also many small booths. Some featured homemade jewelry, one offered salsa and hummus, another had bread from a local artisan bakery for sale.
He fed Layla a sample chunk of fresh peach, then licked away an errant drop of juice from her lower lip. She smiled at him, and he leaned in for a kiss. This brown-eyed girl was sexier and sweeter than he deserved.
“Vance. Vance Smith.”
Startled by a man’s voice, Vance swung around and found himself grinning. “Cesar!” He held out his hand to the wiry older man, dressed as usual in jeans, boots and a battered straw cowboy hat.
A strong grip brought him in for a brief hug. “You’re home, but haven’t called me?”
“Just here briefly, Cesar.” He turned to Layla and gestured her near. “Layla, this is Cesar Ochoa. I used to work for him. Cesar, this is Layla Parker, a friend.”
“A good friend, I see,” Cesar said, a twinkle in his eye.
Vance ignored that. “What are you doing here?”
“My niece sells some of our produce here. She came up with the idea a couple of months ago. She wants money for a new computer. I brought the boxes in my truck.”
“How is Adriana? And Blanca and everyone else?”
“Bueno. You must come out to visit. Blanca will make your favorite tamales.”
“If I have time before my leave’s up, I will.”
Cesar glanced at Layla. “I understand if you’re too busy, of course. But we miss you.”
“The feeling’s mutual,” Vance said, smiling. “That doesn’t mean I won’t kick your ass in darts the next time I get a chance.”
The older man laughed, then sobered. “You know you have a job if you want it, Vance. When you return.”
“I...” He sighed. “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”
They said their goodbyes and Vance watched Cesar head toward his truck, his bow legs making him rock side to side as he strode off.
“What job?” Layla asked.
“Huh?” Vance said, still gazing after his old boss.
“You used to work for him?”
“Oh. Yeah.” He took Layla’s hand again, and they meandered by a booth that sold varieties of cacti in small pots.
“When?”
“Between getting out of the army the first time and going back in this time.” In the next stall were tables filled with a selection of fruits and vegetables. His hand was drawn to a pile of avocados and the narrow-shaped one on top.
“What’s that?” Layla asked.
“It’s a genetic error. We call it a cuke. A pitless avocado.”
“That seems convenient.”
“Maybe,” he said, placing it back on the pile. “I always feel a little sorry for them, though. It’s like they’re not living up to their full potential.”
“Oh, I get it,” she said knowingly, “because they have no stones. You’re such a guy.”
“Brat.” He grinned at her, then ran his thumb over a plump and bright beefsteak tomato.
“That’s what you want to be doing, Vance,” Layla suddenly remarked. “Working at an avocado ranch. Growing things.”
He frowned. “No, I don’t want to go back to Cesar’s. The Ochoas are great, but...no.”
“That’s not what I said.”
The conversation was taking a turn he didn’t like. “Well, I say it’s time to get back to the cupcake truck.”
She opened her mouth to speak ag
ain, but he popped a nectarine sample inside, then led her away while she chewed. Once at their spot, they were busy throughout the afternoon. He left her alone for a few minutes while he went to buy them each a hand-squeezed lemonade and when he got back, Layla was engrossed in conversation with a woman in a wide-brimmed sun hat. It only took him a second to realize her identity.
Jesus Christ. His mother.
Gritting his teeth, he strode up to the food truck’s window and passed Layla her plastic cup. Then he frowned at his mom. “Do I need to take out a restraining order?”
“Vance!” his mother and his lover said together.
“You’re not going to tell me your car is broken down again, are you?”
“Of course not. I drove it here,” Katie Smith said.
He sipped at his drink in order to cool his temper. “So it’s just a big coinky-dink that you ended up at this particular farmers’ market?”
His mother hesitated and Layla jumped in. “No, she happened to check out the Karma Cupcakes website and noted we would be here today. Because she was in the area, she decided to stop by.”
“There’s some excellent apricot preserves being sold just over there,” his mother added, pointing across the aisle.
“Mom—”
“And I wanted to see the inside of the cupcake truck, since I didn’t get the chance on Picnic Day.”
She was as subtle as a battering ram. Vance didn’t have the heart to really yell at her, though, because he knew that the rift between him and the family—mostly now just between him and his father—upset her. From his bad spills to his bad grades, Vance had been upsetting her all his life.
“Well, what’s stopping you?” he grumbled, then led her to the door and held it open while she climbed inside.
He sat on one of the bistro chairs during the tour, though he could hear the two women chatting and laughing. Finally, drawn to the sound, he peeked in at them through the window. His mother had a wet cloth in hand and was working on removing a smear of chocolate on the wide strap of the pale green dress Layla wore.
It was a maternal activity, and as he took in Layla’s bemused expression, he remembered she hadn’t had a mother for most of her life. This kind of attention was probably unusual to her. He couldn’t see Phil or the colonel caring much about getting out a stain from a favorite garment. While he knew she’d been well cared for growing up, he doubted there’d been much TLC.
Bungalow Nights (Beach House No. 9) Page 27
