by Melinda Metz
“I didn’t think the view could get any better,” Briony said. “But that was something I’ll remember forever.”
Nate thought he’d remember a lot of this night. He didn’t want it to end, not yet. He’d been planning to head back to The Gardens after drinks. He had a lot of work to do. But he always had a lot of work to do. It would be there tomorrow. “Want to go downstairs and get something to eat?”
“Should I? I don’t know. Should I?” Briony asked, laughing.
“Are you buzzed off two drinks?”
“Possibly,” she answered. “And I would like to go downstairs and get dinner with you.”
There must have been some magic going on, because they didn’t have to wait for a table. Although it would have been okay if they had. The ceiling would have kept them entertained. It was covered with chalk drawings of mothers.
Briony read a sentence from the ceiling. “ ‘One time my mom told me, Be a mango, not a coconut.’ ” She looked over at Nate. “I don’t know what that means, but I love it. And I hope you’re not going to tell me you know what it means, smartypants, because not knowing is part of the enjoyment. I will try to be a mango from now on.”
“I have no idea what it means. Maybe it’s about not having a hard shell,” Nate suggested.
“A hard, hairy shell,” Briony added.
“Exactly. Maybe it’s about how you shouldn’t have a hard, hairy shell. You should be more . . . accessible. That’s not the word I want.”
“Vulnerable? Open? Unguarded?” Briony frowned. “Weak. Defenseless. Exposed.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Nate protested. “That took quite the dark turn. We’re still at the beach. We’re under the boardwalk.”
“Right. Yikes. Sorry,” Briony said. “My parents raised me to be cautious. My cousin Jamie was joking that they probably didn’t let me cross the street until I was in college, and it’s practically true. It made me feel—” She shook her head. “Not beach talk.”
“No, I want to hear,” Nate told her.
“Somehow it made me feel bad about myself. Like they thought I wasn’t capable.” She blinked a few times. “I never thought about it quite like that, but that’s it. I know they were just taking care of me, but they were so protective it seemed as if they didn’t think I could handle things.” She picked up the menu. “Therapy session over.”
“You don’t have to stop.”
“Oh, they have avocado toast as an appetizer!” she exclaimed. Clearly, she wanted to stop, and Nate wasn’t going to push. “I’ve heard how everyone in California eats avocado toast, but I’ve never had it. We need to order some. Oh, and you have to let me pay half. You shouldn’t go into debt just because you decided to be friendly to an out-of-towner.”
Ice bath. Nate reminded himself that this wasn’t a date, even though it had sure started to feel like one.
Briony reached out and put her hand over his. “Did I say the wrong thing? I heard myself talking about appetizers and I realized I was being thoughtless.”
“No worries. And you weren’t,” Nate told her. “You can have all the avocado toast you like, and I hope you’ll let me treat you.”
“Thank you.” Briony slowly slid her hand away, but he could still feel the warmth of it.
His cell vibrated. He couldn’t make a bar run to check it. “I need to quickly get this,” he told her. “There’ve been some things going on at The Gardens. I told them not to call if it wasn’t an emergency.”
“Take it. Of course you should take it,” Briony said.
Nate almost groaned when he saw that the text was from his sister: Need you now.
“Is everything okay?”
“It’s from my sister. Let me just see what’s going on with her. I’ll be right back. Order the toast if the waiter comes back before me.”
Nate strode outside and hit the speed dial for Nathalie. “What?” he demanded.
“I’m desperate for a babysitter!” she cried. “I need you over here right now.”
Nate almost hung up. “I’m about to have dinner. I’m out with a friend.”
“Well, bag it up. You can bring Mike or whoever it is,” Nathalie said. Mike was one of his high school friends he saw once in a while.
“No. I’m not coming,” Nate told her.
“Abel is picking me up in fifteen minutes. He just texted.” Nate had no idea who Abel was. “I guess the kids are old enough to stay by themselves for a few hours.”
“Are you crazy? No, they aren’t.” His niece and nephew were ten and seven. “You can’t expect Lyla—” He realized his sister was gone. He immediately called her back. She didn’t pick up. He texted. She didn’t answer. Damn it. Would she really leave the kids alone? He didn’t think so. But if you got Nathalie in a particular mood, anything was possible.
He returned to the restaurant and hurried over to Briony. “I have a situation. It’s possible that my sister has decided to leave her kids alone since I told her I couldn’t come watch them. It’s also possible she’s trying to make me think that’s what she’s going to do to get me over there. But I—”
“Can’t risk it,” she said along with him. She stood up. “I’ll come with you.”
He started to refuse. He didn’t want to drag Briony into his problems, and he knew he could handle it alone. But she’d offered.. . . “Thanks,” he told her. “That would be great.”
CHAPTER 8
As Briony and Nate headed up the front walk of his sister’s place, the door flew open. A boy charged out and rammed Nate in the stomach with his head. Briony assumed it was a typical greeting, because Nate only laughed as he grabbed the boy under the armpits and swung him around and around. “Where’s your mom?” he asked when he finally put the boy down.
“In the bathroom,” the boy answered.
“Good,” Nate said. Briony could tell Nate was trying to hide his annoyance, and she thought he was doing an excellent job. “Okay, Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile, meet my friend Briony. Briony, my nephew, Lyle.”
“Hello, Lyle.” Briony felt a little self-conscious. She hadn’t spent much time around kids, and she didn’t know quite how to act. Just don’t put on the British accent, she told herself. You are so not Mary Poppins.
“When you meet someone, you say ‘hello’ or ‘hi’ and shake hands,” Nate told Lyle.
Lyle immediately looked her in the eye, stuck out his hand, and told her “hi.” They shook.
“Nice grip,” Nate said. “He used to think shaking was a test of strength,” he added to Briony.
“Not too hard, not dead fish. That’s how you do it,” Lyle said. Nate had obviously been working with him on manners. Briony found that just so sweet. “Now can we play fort?”
“Sure. But I need to talk to your mom first. Why don’t you show Briony the—”
Nate was interrupted by the double beep of a car horn. The front door flew open, then slammed shut, and a woman with dramatic cat-eye makeup and her hair in long messy waves—styled messy, not messy messy—flew toward the car. Briony didn’t know it was possible to run that fast in barely there sandals. She was sure she couldn’t do it.
“Nathalie, stop,” Nate ordered. She didn’t even toss him an over-the-shoulder wave. She vaulted into the waiting convertible and it was gone seconds later.
“Fort?” Lyle asked hopefully.
“Did you and your sister eat already?” Nate asked.
“Yep. Pizza,” Lyle answered as they walked into the house. “Lyla picked all the pepperoni off hers. Last night she decided to be a raw foodist. So, I got double pepperoni.”
“Lyla, come in here a minute. I want to introduce you to someone!” Nate called as he started picking up used napkins and paper plates from the coffee table. Briony grabbed the empty pizza box.
“You don’t have to—”
“Stop it,” Briony told him. “I’m here, I’m helping.” She didn’t think she’d ever said anything like that to Caleb. Because Caleb never seemed to need help. He’d help
ed her with a ton of things, but it didn’t go the other way.
A girl in jean shorts, a white T, and clunky black boots came into the room. She had the same long hair as her mother, topped with a black baseball cap that had small cat ears on top. “I want that hat,” Briony told her. “I’m too old to wear it, but I want it. Not yours,” she added quickly. “One like it.”
The girl’s eyebrows rose as she looked at Briony. “Thanks.”
“Lyla, this is my friend Briony,” Nate said.
“Hi.” She took the pizza box out of Briony’s hands. “I got this.” She carried it out of the room, Nate behind her with the rest of the trash.
“I’m getting the pillows and stuff,” Lyle announced, and disappeared.
Briony saw a T-shirt on the floor. Should she pick it up and fold it? Or would that kind of cleanup be somehow offensive? Only been away from the magical beach building for less than half an hour and she was feeling more like her usual dithery self. Somehow, hanging out with Nate earlier, the constant questioning had begun to fall away. Maybe it was the alcohol, although she should still have some in her system.
Nate and Lyla returned to the living room, just as Lyle came running back in with a stack of pillows in his arms. A stack of pillows higher than his head. Nate had to grab him to stop him from running into the side of the sofa.
“I guess it’s fort night.” Lyla sounded bored, but Briony thought she could see a spark of enthusiasm in the girl’s eyes. “I’ll get the blankets.”
“What should I do?” Briony asked.
“Help me move the sofa,” Nate said. “After much trial and error, we’ve figured out that the best blanket fort has the sofa facing that corner over there.” They each grabbed an end of the sofa and dragged it into place, Lyle yanking off the sofa cushions as they went.
“I’ve never made a blanket fort,” Briony admitted when Lyla joined the group with a bunch of comforters, quilts, and sheets.
“You have clearly missed out on some of life’s main pleasures.” He smiled at her, a slow, sexy smile.
No, not sexy. This was not a night for sexy. They were just hanging out. With his niece and nephew. Having fun. Good, clean fun. It was a warm smile, she decided. A nice, warm smile. “What do we do next?”
“You never made a blanket fort? Seriously?” Lyle sounded horrified.
“Seriously,” Briony answered. “So, are you going to teach me?”
“Okay. First we need the painter’s tape.” He ran out of the room again. Lyla started to drag a recliner over to the sofa, and Briony hurried over to give her an assist.
Nate and his niece and nephew were expert fort builders. With speed and efficiency, Nate taped a sheet to the wall, then Lyla draped it over the back of the sofa. “Now we anchor it with books,” Lyle told Briony. She followed his lead and put a few big books on the bottom of the sheet to hold it in place.
Lyla draped a sheet over the chair, and Nate taped it to the sheet running from the wall to the sofa. Briony got another book to keep the other end of the sheet pinned to the chair. She was getting the hang of this.
“Can we do the kitchen table, too?” Lyle asked Nate. “There are more of us. We need to bust out the super-size tent.”
“Briony and I will get the table. You two get chairs,” Nate answered, and Lyle gave a happy whoop.
Once the table and chairs were in place and draped with sheets, they all started moving the pillows and cushions inside. Lyle ran to his bedroom and returned with an armload of stuffed animals. “Want one to hold while we watch the movie?” he asked.
Warmth spread through her chest. “That would be great. Which one do you think?” She didn’t feel bad for asking advice, because he took the decision seriously, studying each animal.
“Panda.” He handed the big, cuddly toy to her. “He’s the friendliest.”
“Perfect.” Briony gave Panda a hug.
“You two get the laptop and pick a movie,” Nate told the kids. “Briony and I will make popcorn.”
“They’re so great,” Briony said when they reached the kitchen. “And you’re great with them.”
“Thanks.” Nate took a box of popcorn out of the cupboard and stuck a package in the microwave. “I get a kick out of hanging out with them. But I hate it when Nathalie manipulates me the way she did tonight. She knows if she makes it sound like the kids might be in danger I’m there. Tonight, I was ninety-nine percent sure she wasn’t going to leave them alone.”
“But that one percent . . .”
“Yeah. Although Lyla could probably handle anything. She’s only ten, but she’s really responsible.”
“Lyle and Lyla. The family tradition continues,” Briony commented.
Nate grinned. “Lyla is even spelled with a y. Neither of them seems to mind it the way I did, maybe because they aren’t twins.” He took out the popcorn and put in another bag. “We need some actual food.” He opened the fridge and started pulling out things—hummus, olives, mini mozzarella balls, grape tomatoes. “My sister knows how to shop. You want to grab some plates?”
Briony found the right cupboard on the second try and took out four little plates; then she and Nate headed back to the kids. “You first,” she said to Nate, gesturing toward the tent. Her blue-and-white paisley skirt, bought for the Paris honeymoon, wasn’t designed for crawling. It wasn’t tight, but it was short. Still, she managed to enter the tent while keeping her modesty intact and took a seat on a large pillow. “Oooh, pretty. Love the fairy lights.”
Lyla smiled at her. Lyle said, “Forts aren’t supposed to be pretty.”
“I got the lights. You got to pick the movie,” Lyla reminded him.
“What are we watching?” Nate asked, handing out the popcorn, then starting to fill the plates.
“LEGO Batman,” Lyle said and started it up.
Her parents probably would have been afraid she’d suffocate under the sheets if she’d ever tried this as a child. Or get crushed by a falling piece of furniture.
She popped an olive in her mouth and glanced over at Nate. The laptop was casting a faint glow on his face. He was already laughing at the movie, and his laughter made Briony laugh, too. She’d never done anything like this with Caleb. They’d hung out with his niece together several times, but they’d done things like apple picking or the ballet. Enriching activities.
* * *
Diogee was lying on his pillow, slobbering and snoring. Mac could never walk past Diogee when he was asleep. There was just too much fun to be had.
He watched the dog for a moment, considering. Time to play wrestle! He launched himself into the air, landed on top of Diogee’s head, and wrapped his front legs around Diogee’s neck.
The bonebreath jerked to his feet. Mac kept his hold but let his body slide around, so he was hanging underneath Diogee’s jaws. He pulled back both legs, then smacked both paws into Diogee’s chest at the same time. Whap! Whap! Whap! The dreaded upside-down double-paw maneuver.
Now what? Maybe he could get Diogee to wedge his head under the sofa again. The meatbrain had never figured out how big he was. He had whiskers, but he didn’t seem to know how to use them. Big surprise.
Mac dropped to the floor, then took off. He could hear Diogee lumbering after him. Then he heard the front door open. He stopped so suddenly that the bonehead ran right past him and bopped his nose on the wall. Bonus! The dog turned around and returned to his pillow.
Mac trotted down the stairs. Briony and Nate were standing by the front door, smelling happy, a little like how Jamie and David smelled when they were together.
The scent of night air grew stronger. Nate had opened the door again. He was leaving! Mac was tempted to slip outside, but he was needed here. He could go on an adventure later. It’s not as if he needed a door.
Mac streaked across the living room into the front hall and slammed his body into the tall table. It toppled with a crash! The vase on top of it shattered. Now the front door was blocked. Mac raced back up the stairs.
Mission accomplished.
* * *
Nate stared down at the wooden pedestal table lying across the doorway, surrounded by pieces of glass. “Did that really happen?” He looked over his shoulder. Mac was nowhere in sight.
“I think that’s what’s called a catapult. I’ll get a broom,” Briony said. She took one step and let out a cry of pain.
“Did you cut yourself?”
She nodded. “I stepped backward and my heel came out of my shoe, my stupid, pretty, backless shoe.”
“Do you know if there’s a first-aid kid anywhere?”
“I saw one under the sink in the bathroom off the upstairs hall.”
“Right back.” Nate started for the stairs, then turned around and caught Briony up in his arms. He carried her into the living room and set her down on the sofa. “Now, I’ll be right back.” He took the steps two at a time, found the kit, and returned to her.
“It’s fine.” She studied her bare foot. “Only a tiny piece of glass. It’s too small to get a grip on it.”
“Which is why every first-aid kit has tweezers.” Nate sat on the coffee table and took her foot in one hand. “I see it.” Carefully, he tried to grasp the tiny shard with the tweezers. He heard the metal click on the glass, but the tweezers slipped off before he could pull the piece free. He tried again, same thing. “Once more.” Her foot twitched, and he tightened his hold a little, noticing the sparkly blue polish on her toenails. Not relevant. He made another attempt to grab the glass. Couldn’t do it. “I think you need to soak it in some warm water; then I can try again.”
He lowered her foot to the coffee table and stood up. “I’ll find something.”
“No! You don’t have to. I can do it.” Briony started to struggle to her feet, wobbling.
Nate caught her by the shoulders. “You’ll grind it in more if you try to walk on it,” he told her. “Just wait here.”
Nate went into the kitchen and rummaged around until he found a bucket under the sink. He rinsed it and filled it with warm water and a little white vinegar, a home remedy Peggy had told him about. “Here you go,” he told Briony when he returned to her.
