But he kind of loved it, too.
* * *
The next week, Grace and Dante stole two long lunches together, on Tuesday and Thursday. Instead of food, they had each other. Both times were the best time ever—and each encounter was much too short. Too soon, she would find herself standing in the cabin doorway, wearing nothing but panties and a tank top or a wrinkled T-shirt, her tangled hair in her eyes, feeling all kinds of lazy and sexually satisfied as she waved him goodbye.
The weekend after the Fourth, a minor miracle occurred. The girls’ day camp counsellors took Nic and Nat and several other local kids on a weekend campout over Friday and Saturday night. Gracie worked both nights, but Dante was on his summer schedule, which meant the weekends were his.
When she arrived at the cabin in the very early hours of Saturday morning, he was waiting on the front step with Owen. They spent the rest of the night together and all of the next day too, making love for hours, sharing every meal, taking Owen for long walks down on the beach. Saturday night at six, she left him reluctantly to go to work.
“Be in my bed when I get home,” she commanded as she kissed him goodbye.
He lifted his mouth from hers just long enough to reply, “Count on it.” And then he was kissing her again, deeply. At length.
She arrived home at a quarter to three Sunday morning to find him right where she’d told him to be. He held back the covers. She stripped off her clothes and joined him.
It was so good with Dante. She never wanted it to end.
And he seemed pretty taken with her, too. More than once that magical weekend, she seriously considered broaching the subject of where they might go from here, of actual dating, doing more than each other, like maybe dinner and a show. They could take it slow, go only places where they were unlikely to run into anyone they knew.
Time in bed with him was the absolute best. But she liked him so much—as a lover, as a friend, as someone really special to her in so many ways. She just couldn’t stop wishing they could be together without sneaking around.
She kept trying to come up with the right words to broach the “next level” conversation. But she was nervous to approach him about it. He’d been so firm that he didn’t want anyone else to know they had a thing together.
Why didn’t he, really? The more she thought about this secret they were keeping, the more she wondered why they even needed it to be a secret.
She needed to ask him about that, talk it out with him. Too bad the right words never seemed to come to her.
And then all of a sudden, it was Sunday afternoon and he had to go pick up the girls at Valentine City Park.
The next week was not so great, secret fling–wise. When Dante could get away, she couldn’t. And the other way around. Twice, they met on his back deck after his daughters were in bed. They would each have a beer. Mostly, what they talked about was how not getting together was driving them both a little bit crazy. Somehow, though, they managed to keep their hands off each other. If one of them would weaken, the other would mention that they were in full view of the living area should the twins decide to leave their room.
That Saturday, it was the girls’ turn to host a sleepover. Nicole and Natalie invited their cousin Heather and three more of their Valentine Bay friends. Sunday, Dante took the girls to his parents’ house for dinner and Grace went to Daniel’s.
By Monday, she was feeling a little depressed at how difficult having a secret fling could be. Her schedule and Dante’s just weren’t matching up and that made her sad.
Was she getting too attached?
Well, the guy had made it painfully clear that what they had was all they would have. He’d given no indication he was ready to change things up, and she’d never quite figured out how to talk to him about that.
On the plus side, when they did manage to slip off alone, it was fabulous. Mostly, she really loved it, having it be just the two of them, just for now, nobody’s business. The limited time they had together kept both of them focused on making every minute count.
Still, it was starting to get old. It was starting to remind her that she’d never really had a guy who was all hers, straight up, for everyone in town to see. Niall and Keegan and Paolo were across an ocean in another world and just for the summer.
Yeah, she’d had a couple of “serious” boyfriends in high school, but she was a kid then, with a very protective big brother. Daniel used to make her leave the bedroom door open whenever a boy came over. And when she finally did have sex her senior year, it was in Randy Daughtry’s ancient Ford Courier pickup.
Ugh. In some ways, all this sneaking around with Dante made her feel like a teenager again. And just lately, not in a good way.
She needed someone to talk to about it. A little quality time with her BFFs would really help. She texted Carrie. When she didn’t hear back in the next few hours, she tried Erin.
Erin’s reply was not encouraging. What? U got a minute to spare 4 us now?
Well, that just made her feel worse than ever. Hurt and sad and more than a little bit angry, she stared at Erin’s text and had no idea what her reply ought to be.
They needed to talk. And probably not about Dante. First and foremost, they had to deal with what had gone wrong in their friendship, the friendship that they’d always vowed would last their whole lives. Grace really didn’t know what she’d done to piss them off. It was time she found out. Can we talk?
Erin wrote back, Bout what?
Are you at home? I’ll come over.
Whatevs
Grace decided to consider that a yes. I’m on my way.
At the two-bedroom apartment in a ten-unit complex on Pine Avenue, she found both Carrie and Erin at home.
Erin let her in with a sigh and a heavily ironic, “Well, look who finally showed up.”
Carrie sat on the sofa drinking a canned Bloody Mary, an open pizza box on the coffee table in front of her. She raised the can. “Been a while.”
“Drink?” asked Erin with zero enthusiasm.
Grace figured maybe attempting to be social would pave the way for her a little, get them off to a decent start. “Sure, thanks.”
Carrie swept out a hand toward the fridge. “Help yourself.” Erin plunked down beside her on the sofa.
Grace got a hard lemonade and took the chair across the coffee table from them. There was a moment. Dead silence. They stared at her and she returned the favor.
Finally, Grace waded in. “So lately, it’s seemed like we’re kind of drifting apart, you know?” Okay, yeah. Weak. But she had to start somewhere.
“You’re always busy,” Erin accused.
“Too busy for us, anyway,” Carrie threw in with a toss of her head.
“You never want to chillax,” said Erin. “You’ve always gotta be somewhere. It’s no fun and it’s like we don’t even know you.”
“And what about Keith?” demanded Carrie. It took Grace a moment to remember the guy at Beach Street Brews. And Carrie knew it, too. She scoffed. “You don’t even remember Keith.”
“No, I do.” Grace knew she sounded superdefensive. She had no reason to be defensive. But somehow, she felt that way. “Of course, I remember Keith.”
“He’s a good guy and he really liked you and you just...” Shaking her head, Erin blew a raspberry.
Carrie waved her Bloody Mary. “All of a sudden, you’re seeing someone—someone you so far haven’t bothered to mention to your two best friends for just about your whole life?”
Grace realized that, at this point, there was no way she was talking to her supposed BFFs about Dante. Just wasn’t going to happen. “Listen, who I’m seeing and whether or not I wanted to give Keith my number? Come on, you guys. This isn’t about men. This is about you and me and why you’re so angry at me lately.”
“We told you.” Erin took a long drink of her canned m
argarita. “You’re always busy. You never want to hang with us...”
Carrie said, “It’s like we don’t really have much in common anymore.”
Was it like that?
Yeah.
Grace sat a little straighter. “Well, so what?”
Carrie blinked at her and Erin gasped.
Grace leaned in across the coffee table. “Look. Maybe in life people don’t always see things the same way. Maybe I’m all absorbed right now in stuff that bores you guys silly. So what? I love you both and I always will. You matter to me. A lot. And I really hope I still matter to you.”
Another long silence crawled by.
And then Carrie said softly, “Oh,” and burst into tears. Erin started crying, too. Grace felt the moisture welling in her own eyes.
They all three jumped up at the same time. Carrie and Erin darted around the coffee table for a group hug.
“Okay,” Erin sniffled. “Maybe we were kind of being bitches about this.”
“But we miss you,” cried Carrie. “We need to see you more.”
“You’re right.” Grace took the tissue Erin offered her and dabbed at her eyes. “Once every week or two, at least, we need to get together, no matter what.”
And then Erin, looking thoughtful, qualified, “But then, we gotta accept that maybe sometimes that won’t happen and just make it work when we can.”
“And not get all judgy,” Carrie added. Looking sweetly remorseful, she blew her nose.
They sat down again. Grace finished her drink and said yes to a second one and a slice of cold pizza. Carrie and Erin filled her in on what she’d been missing.
Both of her friends were still working at the same upscale restaurant in Astoria. Carrie had said yes to a second date with the guy from Coos Bay. Erin was still keeping things strictly casual on the relationship front.
Grace explained that yeah, she was seeing someone exclusively. But he wanted to keep it just between the two of them, so she was respecting his privacy.
“A secret love is kind of romantic,” offered Erin in a hopeful tone.
“And fun?” Carrie put a question mark on the end of that.
Grace laughed. “Meaning, am I having a good time with him? Yeah. Super good.”
Her friends said that was all that mattered and she left it at that. They set a date to get together next Monday, when all three of them were off work. Erin and Carrie would come to the cabin for dinner.
“About time we saw your new place,” grumbled Erin. And then she laughed. “Not that we’re bitter or anything.”
“Yeah,” agreed Carrie. “Sometimes we’re bitches, but we love you so much!”
There was more hugging. “Next Monday. My place. Six o’clock,” Grace reminded them as she went out the door.
She got in behind the wheel of her car and paused to check her phone. There was a text from Dante. He’d sent it while she was with her friends.
God, I miss you. Come over for dinner with me and the girls? Another text came through as she was starting to reply. He wrote, So much for dinner, then. Meet me on the deck, 9:15?
She answered smiling, feeling eager and happy, just to know she would see him soon. I’ll be there. Sorry about dinner. I’ve been at Carrie and Erin’s. Just coming home now.
Be naked, he suggested—well, it was more of a command.
She laughed out loud. I’m thinking maybe we shouldn’t risk scarring your daughters for life.
The sacrifices a man makes for his children, he replied.
* * *
The night was overcast, but Grace could see Dante clearly—the outline of his broad shoulders, the shine to his thick, dark hair. He was waiting for her at the table on the deck, limned by the spill of golden light from the fixture by the slider. No sign of Owen. He must be in with the girls.
Dante stood as she approached. “We haven’t been alone in over a week.” He was scowling.
“Wait. Is that an accusation?”
“It’s a fact and I hate it.” He grabbed her hand. “Come here.” His warm touch sent a thrill of longing sizzling through her.
“The windows,” she reminded him.
“This way.” He pulled her across the deck and down the steps on the far side.
“Um, where are we going?” she asked as she trotted along behind him.
“Right here.” He ducked under the canopy of a big leaf maple a few yards from the side of the house. “Nice and dark. No one will see us. And we’ll hear if the girls come looking for me.” He reeled her in close and put those big arms around her.
She whispered his name in eager welcome as his mouth came down on hers.
Wrapped up in Dante’s arms, protected in tree shadow, Grace surrendered to the man she couldn’t get enough of, to his body pressing so close to hers, to the hungry perfection of his kiss. Now and then he would lift his head—but only to slant his mouth the other way and claim her lips again.
“We’re like a couple of hormonal kids,” she remarked breathlessly.
“Just kiss me.” And he took her mouth once more.
She felt better about this secret fling of theirs now that he was holding her, surer that this thing between them was the right thing. Yeah, she wanted more. But what they had in this moment was pretty darn spectacular.
And it didn’t end with kissing. Eventually, his hand glided between their bodies and eased her zipper down. And then his fingers were there, working their magic.
He swallowed her moans as she went over the edge.
She returned the favor, going to her knees on the soft, mossy ground, taking charge of him in the most elemental way, reaching one hand up over his hard belly and ripped chest to cover his mouth and muffle his groans when he came.
“Come up here,” he whispered roughly, taking her by the shoulders, pulling her upward until she was back in the cradle of his strong arms.
For several sweet minutes, they held each other. She tucked her head against his throat and he stroked her hair.
Then, when they were both breathing normally again, he knelt and brushed the damp moss off the knees of her jeans. Rising, cradling her face in his big hands, he kissed her once more, this time gently, with melting tenderness.
Then he led her back to the deck, where they sat together under the stars.
Again, she considered broaching the subject of changing things up a little between them, taking a step or two toward going public as a couple.
But before she could frame the words, he mentioned Nicole and Natalie. “Twelve more days and they’re on their way back to Portland,” he said.
“It’s hard, huh, to let them go?”
“Yeah. I love it when they get here, hate it when they leave. The house always seems too big and way too quiet.”
She reached across the table and took his hand in reassurance. “You’re doing a great job with them—both you and Marjorie, I think. They’re happy and outgoing and they have a lot of friends.”
He wove his fingers with hers, but only for a moment before pulling away.
It wasn’t fair that she felt hurt. They did have an agreement. But it caused an ache deep inside her, that they couldn’t even hold hands for fear Nic and Nat might see and get the wrong idea.
Which really wasn’t the wrong idea at all.
“It’s after ten,” she said, and stood. “I should go.”
“Wait. What? You can’t stay a few minutes longer?”
“No. I need to get back. I’ve got the day shift tomorrow.”
“You go in at what, eleven?”
“Ten thirty. And I was hoping to get an hour or two before that to work on my lesson plans for the coming year.” It was true, as far as it went. Her first year of teaching would be extrachallenging. She had to build her class curriculum from scratch. And she wouldn’t be able to get into h
er classroom until right before school started. The more she had done before the mad scramble at the beginning of the term, the better.
He stared up at her, his face shadowed with the light behind him. “What’d I do?”
“Not a thing.” It wasn’t a lie, exactly. It was just, well, they were going nowhere and she was growing tired of standing still.
Tonight didn’t feel like the right time to get into it, though. She didn’t want to lose him—well, as much as she had of him.
But then, after the girls left for Portland at the end of the month, they would have more time alone together. That might be the best course for her, to wait until his daughters were with their mother and then bring up the possibility of her and Dante becoming...more to each other.
He stood. “You need to tell me what I did, so I can grovel and make it better.”
She laughed. “You’re not allowed to grovel on the back deck—not as long as the girls are here. They might see and then you’d have some serious explaining to do.”
“You’re right. Damn it.” He started to reach for her—and stopped himself. His hand dropped to his side. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
She gave him a slow smile. “I am amazing.”
“Oh, yes you are.”
“Good night, Dante.”
“’Night.”
She turned and got out of there before she caved and hung around for another hour, longing to be closer to him, not daring to so much as reach for his hand.
Chapter Nine
That week turned out the same as the week before. Grace’s schedule never meshed with Dante’s.
Thursday, she went in to work at nine to help Ingrid with payroll, bills, ordering and miscellaneous other stuff. At six, she was finished for the night.
She started to head home, but then found herself turning left instead of right, headed for the cottage where Hailey and Harper lived. Both of their cars were parked in the wide space not far from the house. Grace pulled her RAV4 in beside them.
Hailey was standing in the open doorway to the screened porch, waiting for her as she came up the walk. “Want some dinner? It’s Harper’s awesome slow cooker burgundy beef tips with noodles. And I believe you’ve had my spinach strawberry salad before.”
Their Secret Summer Family (The Bravos 0f Valentine Bay Book 7) Page 12
