Their Secret Summer Family (The Bravos 0f Valentine Bay Book 7)

by Christine Rimmer

  Now he just wished he could go, too. Secret flings, he was quickly learning, had a whole raft of drawbacks.

  His disappointment must have shown on his face, because she added, “They are my best friends. And I hardly see them these days, you know?”

  “I get it.” He needed to back off and he knew it. “Have a good time.”

  She put her mouth to his ear a second time. “I would rather be with you,” she whispered. And then, with a quick brush of her cool lips to his cheek, she straightened and headed for the steps leading down off the deck. He watched her go until she disappeared into the shadows of the trees.

  * * *

  At a little past ten the next morning, Dante got a text from Connor Bravo—Lunch? Noon. Fisherman’s Korner.

  Alarm rattled through him. Suddenly he was certain Connor knew about him and Gracie. They would end up beating the crap out of each other the way they had a decade ago when Dante found out about Connor and Aly.

  But then he reminded himself to get a damn grip. How would Connor know? Gracie wouldn’t have said anything, and no one else knew. And besides, who even knew if it would bother Connor that Dante and Gracie were having a thing? Not all brothers went ballistic over stuff like that.

  Still, it would be awkward, eating fish and chips with Connor, knowing that he’d been in Gracie’s bed yesterday and couldn’t wait to go there again.

  Well, too bad, Dante decided. He and Gracie were nobody’s business.

  And he and Connor were friends—a hard-earned, lifelong friendship that had gone off the rails more than once, yet somehow always managed to end up back on track. A man needed to spend a little quality time with his friends.

  Dante replied, I’ll be there.

  And it went pretty well. Connor was all about his baby daughter. They agreed that daughters made a man’s life complete.

  “Oh, and don’t forget,” Connor reminded him. “You’re coming to the party next month, you and the girls.”

  On the fourth Saturday in July, at Oceanside Gardens, a fancy wooded estate and event venue just outside of town, Connor and Aly were celebrating their remarriage to each other. The original plan had been to have the party in October because they’d been married in October—both times. But Aly ended up deciding it would be more fun to have their reunion celebration in the summer. She wanted a sit-down dinner outside and dancing under the stars.

  “We’ll be there,” promised Dante. Along with a whole bunch of friends and just about every Bravo and Santangelo in the USA.

  “So how’s it working out having Gracie living at the cabin?” Connor asked. Dante must have blinked or otherwise looked busted, because his best friend’s forehead crinkled in confusion. “What?”

  “Not a thing.”

  “You’re acting weird, man.”

  Dante played it off with a shrug. “Gracie’s great. My daughters and my dog are crazy about her.” And they are not alone. “Owen spends half the damn time at the cabin with her. And she’s got Harper fixing the girls up with costumes for the Medieval Faire. Nat and Nic are thrilled about that.”

  “I’m glad it’s working out. Gracie really needed her own place.”

  “I’m glad to have her there.” So glad. Connor had no idea. Dante stared across the table at his friend and brother-in-law. For several years, he’d been certain he would never willingly speak to Connor again. And yet, here they were, sharing a booth at Fisherman’s Korner, tight with each other just like it used to be. “Connor, I...” Where was he going? He wasn’t quite sure. Somewhere he shouldn’t, probably.

  Connor ate his last steak fry. “Yeah?”

  “I keep thinking about that fight we had.”

  “Which one?”

  “When you and Aly first got together.”

  Connor arched an eyebrow and shook the ice in his nearly empty cup. “Yeah, that was a messy one.”

  “I was a complete jerk to have come after you like that. I acted like I owned you and my sister, like the two of you had no right to be together.”

  Connor set down the cup, his blue gaze assessing. “What’s going on with you?”

  Gracie. For as long as she’ll put up with me. “I’ve been thinking that I never apologized to you for being such an ass.”

  “And this is it, then? Your apology?”

  “Yeah. I’m sorry, Connor. I was wrong. You and Aly are good together. More than good. I think it was always supposed to be you and her. I’m glad that you worked it out and got back together. And I’m pissed at myself that I ever tried to stand in the way of what you guys have.”

  Connor’s expression was completely unreadable—for about ten seconds. But then he nodded. “It’s okay,” he said gruffly.

  “Is it?”

  “Hell, yeah. You were out of line there at the first. But I was no hero when she and I broke up. You had a right to hate my dumb ass over that. It’s just what it is. Crap happens. Everybody messes up. If you’re lucky and you keep trying, you work it out somehow. We got through it. Over time. Me and Aly—and you and me.”

  Dante had to swallow the giant lump in his throat. “Yeah. I guess we did.”

  Connor reached across the table between them and clapped a hand on Dante’s shoulder. “You’re too hard on yourself.”

  “I don’t think so. Not really.”

  “Yeah. Really. You and me, we’re solid. Don’t let what’s over and done with eat you up, okay? Apology accepted.”

  * * *

  “Gracie! Drink up.” Carrie picked up Grace’s beer and held it out to her.

  “I am.” Grace took the heavy glass mug and set it down without taking a sip. It was her damn beer and she intended to drink it at her own pace—which was snail-like compared to Carrie and Erin. They’d gotten to the brew pub early and polished off a pitcher before she arrived.

  Erin scoffed. “You are not keepin’ up, girlfriend.”

  “You’re not a schoolteacher yet,” razzed Carrie.

  Grace reminded herself that the two were half-sloshed and there was no point in taking anything they said too seriously. “Okay, you guys. I love you with all the love in the universe and beyond. But stop trying to pour beer down my throat. I can do that myself.”

  “You’re no fun,” whined Carrie.

  “Yeah.” Erin piled on. “It’s like you don’ really like us anymore.”

  “Not true.” She had Carrie on one side and Erin on the other, so she wrapped an arm around each of them. “Love you both. Mean that.”

  They leaned their heads on her shoulders. Erin said kind of mournfully, “Love you, too...”

  It was sad, really, when a girl and her two forever BFFs just weren’t getting along.

  The waitress appeared and set another pitcher on the table. “From the three hotties at the end of the bar.” She tipped her head toward a trio of twentysomething guys who looked like maybe they worked in construction. They were all in worn jeans, heavy work boots and dark T-shirts, all three of them smirking, raising their beer mugs in unison.

  Of course, Carrie signaled them over.

  They started out on one side of the round table, with Grace and her friends on the other. Names were exchanged. Turned out one of the guys had graduated from Valentine Bay High the year Grace and her friends were freshman. One was from Astoria and the other had recently moved north from Coos Bay.

  Took them about half an hour to start coupling up. The guy from Astoria, whose name was Keith, ended up focusing on Gracie. She nursed her second beer as he talked about high school, the construction company he worked for and his favorite band. It was all just a dance, everyone hooking up old-school, in a bar with alcohol, instead of on the apps. She wondered what she was doing here.

  She could’ve had dinner with Dante and the girls.

  Both Erin and Carrie got out their phones and snapped a bunch of pictures to
post on Snapchat and Instagram. At seven thirty, Grace had had enough. She hooked her bag over her shoulder.

  “Whoa,” said Keith. “You’re not leaving already?”

  “Gracie, hold on.” Carrie stopped whispering with the guy from Coos Bay and chimed in. “You can’t go yet. It’s early.”

  Grace dropped some bills on the table. “No, really. Gotta go.”

  “At least give me your number,” Keith insisted.

  “Sorry.” She went ahead and just hit him with the truth. “I’m seeing someone.”

  “What?” Erin’s mouth dropped open. “Who? Since when? There’s a guy?”

  “You never mentioned a guy,” scoffed Carrie. She waved a hand. “You’re lyin’.”

  “Yeah.” Erin leaned on the local guy, who had his arm wrapped around her. “I don’t know what’s the matter with you lately, but you need to get over yourself.”

  For a moment, Grace just stood there, looking down at her best friends since childhood and three guys she didn’t know. She had no idea what to say. She needed to sit down with her girls and talk about how lately they seemed to have nothing in common and she really didn’t know what to do about that. Would a long talk solve anything—or just make the problem worse?

  Who knew? And in any case, that talk wasn’t happening here at Beach Street Brews, with three strangers to witness it, the music too loud and everybody drinking. Nothing good was going to come from trying to face hard truths tonight.

  Feeling like a stranger in her own life, she said, “I’ll call you.” With a quick nod to Carrie and then Erin, she turned and got out of there before someone said something they couldn’t take back.

  * * *

  Dante heard Grace’s RAV4 pull in at a little before eight. He made himself wait until Nic and Nat were settled in their room for the night before he sent Grace a text.

  Meet you on the deck for a beer?

  She answered right away, which eased all the annoying, formless fears that were chewing at the edges of his mind—completely unacceptable fears. That she would meet someone else and tell him it was over. That a night out with her girlfriends might remind her of all the ways she could be having a good time if only she hadn’t agreed to be secretly exclusive with a divorced single dad.

  They were having a fling. He shouldn’t be taking this so damn seriously.

  Too bad he didn’t know any other way to be.

  No beer for me, she wrote, but I’m on my way.

  He resisted the burning need to shoot back, You drunk already? Because yeah, he was a jealous, controlling ass and he needed to make an effort not to show it.

  A moment after he sat down at the outside table, she materialized out of the shadows. The moon made a silver halo around her pale hair. She wore a filmy top that slid off one shoulder and white shorts that clung to the perfect curves of her hips. Her smooth legs went on forever.

  He rose as she came up onto the deck—that made it easier to reach for her when she got close enough to touch.

  “Missed you.” He kissed her. She tasted like all the best things, everything he wanted. He needed to try to remember that he didn’t own her and what they had wasn’t meant to last. It could never work out long-term with her for all kinds of reasons that right now seemed hazy and pretty much meaningless.

  She sighed into his mouth and pulled away too soon.

  “Come back here.” He tried to claim her lips again.

  But she put her palms against his chest, exerting a gentle but firm pressure. “If you want to keep this thing we have a secret, we can’t be climbing all over each other when Natalie and Nicole are at home.”

  She was, unfortunately, right. If either of the girls got up and came out to the living area, they would have a clear view of whatever was happening out on the deck.

  Reluctantly, he dropped back into his chair and picked up his beer.

  She sat down across from him and smiled at the tall glass he’d brought out for her. “Ice water. Sometimes it’s like you can read my mind.” She picked it up and drank. He watched her pale, smooth throat move as she swallowed. She met his gaze when she set the glass down. “Where’s Owen?”

  “In with the girls.” He asked, “So, good time with Erin and Carrie?”

  “Not really.”

  He felt much too pleased to hear that. “What happened?”

  “We’re just not singing from the same playbook anymore. They were pushing drinks I didn’t want at me and then when I got up to leave, they were pissed, said I was cutting out on them—oh, and don’t believe anything you see on Snapchat or Instagram.”

  Wariness crawled up his spine. “Who took pictures of what?”

  “These three guys bought us a pitcher. One of them ended up sitting next to me. Carrie and Erin whipped out their phones and started snapping away.”

  “This guy got a name?”

  “Keith.”

  “Last name?”

  “He never said.” She gave him a long, steady look across the table. “He never even got that close. But social media is a swamp and you’ve got a jealous streak. I kind of figure full disclosure up front is the way to go with you.”

  He didn’t even try to hide his slow smile. “How’d you get so smart about men?”

  “Lots of annoying brothers and three summers in Europe.”

  He wanted to touch her again, to kiss her. To keep going from there. But that wasn’t happening tonight. And he had a feeling she needed to talk more about her girlfriends. “So then, about Carrie and Erin...?”

  Her beautiful mouth twisted down at the corners. “From their point of view, well, I used to be fun and now I’m a drag who thinks she’s too good for them. We probably need a heart-to-heart, the three of us, but I’m kind of afraid that will only make the problem worse.” She grinned across the table at him. “Aren’t you sorry you asked?”

  “Nope—and longtime friends go through changes. You can’t always be on the same page. Give it time. The problem may work itself out on its own eventually.”

  She rubbed at the condensation on the side of her glass, her soft mouth drawn down in a thoughtful little frown. “Like you and Connor?”

  “Yeah—and I had lunch with Conn today, as a matter of fact. It’s all good with him and me now.” And as long as he doesn’t find out about us, it’s likely to remain that way.

  Gracie sat back in her chair. Gathering her hair in one hand, she slid a hair elastic off her wrist and anchored the thick, silky mass into a high ponytail. “Sometimes I see right through you, Officer. You’re afraid he might find out about us and hit the roof over it. What you’re forgetting is that Connor is not you and about a hundred years have passed since you two got into it because he had the balls to fall in love with Aly. Maybe he’s learned something from what happened back then.”

  “Unlike me?”

  “I didn’t say you hadn’t learned anything.”

  “Gracie. You think I’m a dinosaur.”

  Her ponytail bounced as she turned to face him directly. “Don’t put words in my mouth. You’re definitely Homo sapiens. Or close. Neanderthal, maybe?”

  Something like tenderness washed through him. She was not only gorgeous and funny and smart, she was strong. If she didn’t like something he was doing, she said so. She had no qualms about giving him a bad time. Marj had been...softer, somehow. Less outgoing, less sure of herself. When they first met, at Portland State, he’d liked that she tended to defer to him, that she never really knew how to hold the line against him. He pushed. Marj gave way. It took her a year after their divorce to finally stand up to him and announce she was going to see other guys.

  Gracie frowned across the table at him. “You’re too quiet. What’s going on?”

  “I got a call from Marj today.”

  She watched him so closely, like she was picking up clues from his expr
ession and body language. Gracie really cared how he was doing, what might be bothering him. “Everything okay?”

  “Everything’s fine. Marj always loved the Fourth of July in Valentine Bay. The parade in the Historic District, fireworks on the beach at night...”

  “Wait. Your ex called to say she wants to come to town for the Fourth?”

  “Yeah. And it was two calls. First, she called to feel me out about it. I said sure. She made a hotel reservation and then she called back to say that she and Roger would arrive in the afternoon on the third and go home the morning of the fifth. I invited them here for dinner on the third. She asked if they could join me and the girls for the fireworks and I said yes.”

  “That was nice of you.”

  “I’m not nice. We both know it. What else could I say but come on up and watch the fireworks with us? Marjorie is a good person and Roger is... Well, the girls really like him. Why shouldn’t my ex and her new husband come into town for the holiday and watch the fireworks with Nic and Nat?”

  Gracie reached across and put her hand over his. Her touch soothed and burned simultaneously. Was he in too deep with her, already? It sure felt like it. “You are nice, Dante. At least, on occasion. You really hate that your ex and her husband are coming, don’t you?”

  He wanted to drag her hand to his mouth and bite the back of it. “I don’t hate it, no.”

  “You just hate it.” Her white teeth flashed in a devilish smile.

  “Exactly.”

  “It will be good, you’ll see.”

  “I’ll reserve judgment till after the fact.”

  She gave his hand a last, reassuring pat and pulled hers away. Somehow, he managed not to grab it back.

  For a few minutes, neither of them said a word. They sipped their drinks and stared out at the night. It was a comfortable silence, the kind that happens between friends.