She studied him for a slow count of five, apparently trying to assess if he was any kind of threat. He knew he was in the clear when she scoffed and flipped her hair back over her shoulders with both hands. “Please. Men never come on to me. I tend to give off an antirelationship vibe.”
He dared to move out onto the stage. “Oh, I don’t think Doug was looking for a relationship.”
She laughed then. It was a husky, inviting sound. “I’m Hailey Bravo.”
The Bravo family was well-known in Valentine Bay. “I went to school here in town. Same grade as a guy named Connor Bravo.”
“Connor’s my brother—he’s third-born, after Daniel and Matthias.”
“I remember Matthias, too.” Surly and usually high on weed or something stronger, that was how Roman remembered Matt Bravo.
Hailey seemed to sense the direction of his thoughts. “Matt was not a happy guy in high school.” A smile bloomed on those pretty pink lips. “But about two years ago, he got married. He moved up near Astoria to live with his wife on her family farm. He is happy now—you know, the wonder of true love and all that.”
“I’m sure,” Roman said with a shrug, though he wasn’t. He’d been married twice. Both times, it had ended badly.
A frown wrinkled Hailey’s smooth forehead. “You don’t look all that sure.”
He frowned back at her. “Of what?”
“Love, Roman Marek. Love.”
On the contrary, he was sure about love—sure that he wanted nothing to do with it. And he should get going. But he liked Hailey Bravo. She seemed so self-possessed and confident. She’d put that Doug character on the floor without breaking a sweat. Plus, she was very easy on the eyes.
“So where are you in the Bravo family birth order?” he asked.
“I was born seventh.”
“That makes you how old?”
“You ask a lot of questions, Roman.”
He gave her a lazy shrug. “I’m a curious guy.”
“I’m twenty-five.”
He was thirty-two. And he found himself thinking that seven years was an acceptable age difference between him and a woman he might possibly get involved with. Not that it mattered. He had no plans to get involved with any woman anytime soon. “As I recall, there are a lot of you Bravos, aren’t there?”
“Ten total, nine by blood.”
He wasn’t following. “You mean one of you is adopted?”
“No. One of us was switched at birth, so there’s the switched sibling and the sibling we grew up with. The one we grew up with is a sibling, too. So that makes ten.”
He eyed her sideways. “You’re blowing smoke.”
“Nope. It’s true. One of us was switched at birth.”
“Which one?”
“I can’t tell you which one.” She put a finger to her lips and whispered, “It’s a family secret.”
“Why?”
“Reasons, Roman. Reasons I’m not at liberty to disclose.”
“You’re very mysterious.” And charming. And so damn cute.
“Not mysterious at all. Not really.” As he watched, her sweet mouth turned down at the corners and those fine eyes seemed sad. “We lost Finn years and years ago—he’s sixth-born, two years older than me. He vanished on a family trip to Russia.”
Roman vaguely remembered the story of Finn Bravo’s disappearance. It had happened when Roman was twelve or maybe thirteen, four or five years after he and his mother had fled the only other home he’d ever known, stopping for the night in Valentine Bay. And somehow, never moving on.
Come to think of it, the Bravo parents had died on another trip a couple of years after they lost Finn, hadn’t they? Both stories had made the local newspaper.
“We’re still searching for Finn.” Hailey tipped her pretty chin high.
Roman gave her a long, slow perusal, from the top of her blonde head to the toes of her All Stars—because it gave him pleasure to do so. “I hope you find him someday.”
“We will. We Bravos never give up.”
The mood had darkened considerably. Now, Hailey seemed both determined and sad. A change of subject was in order. “So what’s up with that Doug character, anyway?”
She scoffed. “We were in drama club together back in high school, Doug and me. He helps out here at the theater. And he also pretty much considers it a point of pride to make a pass at every woman who wanders by.” She tipped her head to the side, studying him. “Got kids?”
He thought of his little boy and almost smiled. “Why?”
“Right now, we’re staging the Festival of Fall Revue. Almost every kid in town will be in it. We can always make room for one more.”
He considered telling her he had an eleven-month-old son. She seemed to like kids. But if he mentioned Theo, he would probably end up having to explain what had happened to Theo’s mother and that wouldn’t be fun.
Uh-uh. It was the wrong moment to go there. “I’m just having a look around the building—and what do you do here at the theater?”
Her smile got wider. She looked so happy to be here, onstage in her hometown’s shabby old theater. “I work with the local arts council, putting on seasonal-themed shows and programs. It’s a community endeavor and we try to get everyone involved.” He listened, absurdly enchanted, as she chattered on about how her title at the theater was artistic director. “Also, my sister Harper and I have our own little production company, H&H Productions. In the past year, we’ve coproduced all the events here at the theater. Frankly, our budget makes a shoestring look fat. But Harper—she’s our tech director—can do amazing things. She’s a genius when it comes to making something from practically nothing. She’s building five major interlocking sets for the Festival of Fall Revue. Wait till you see them, Roman. They’ll blow you away.”
“Sounds impressive,” he said, and found he almost meant it. He could not have cared less about theater sets—interlocking or otherwise. But Hailey Bravo’s enthusiasm was contagious.
She gazed up at the catwalk overhead and then out past the lip of the stage, over row upon row of worn, maroon-velvet seats. “The place could use updating,” she said. “But overall, it’s a great space.” Her expression turned wistful. “Unfortunately, it’s been sold. We’re not sure what the new owner plans to do with it.”
Roman made a noncommittal sound and gave no indication that he was the new owner she was so worried about. Yeah, he should tell her.
But he just couldn’t quite make his mouth say the words. She would only want to know what would happen when the contract with the arts council ran out at the end of the year, and she wouldn’t like his answer. That could mean the end of this conversation.
He didn’t want that—didn’t want her walking away. He was enjoying himself. She was a breath of fresh air, full of energy and enthusiasm.
“So, Roman,” she said with a teasing little grin, “if you’re here to contribute to the worthy cause of community theater for all the kids in town, I would be only too happy to accept your check made out to H&H Productions—or if you’re uncomfortable writing a check to our family business, you can make it out to the Valentine Bay Arts Council. Most of the theater’s budget comes through them.”
“I might just do that.”
“You’re a generous man.”
“No, I’m not. But I do want to get in good with the artistic director.”
* * *
Hailey Bravo grinned up at the tall, broad-shouldered guy with the compelling jade-green eyes. He was gorgeous, really, with that jawline cut from granite and that mouth she couldn’t stop staring at, that full lower lip and a distinct, beautifully shaped bow on top. His big, hard arms were shown off to perfection by his short-sleeved knit shirt.
And better than mere gorgeousness, those fine eyes gleamed with intelligence and wry humor. She felt downright giddy ju
st looking at him, which made zero sense. Never, ever had she been the giddy type.
But she was giddy over Roman—like, right from first sight. He just rang all her bells in a big way. It had taken her by complete surprise, to feel so strongly attracted.
She hadn’t been out with a guy in three years. Not since Nathan, who had been her everything. Other guys just didn’t interest her.
Until now...
“Hey.” Roman’s wonderful, rough voice called her back to the moment. She blinked and watched as he strolled out onto the lip of the stage. He sat down with his legs dangling over the side and patted the space next to him.
She didn’t even hesitate, just trotted right over there and dropped down beside him.
“So tell me.” He spoke in a rough whisper, for her ears alone, and leaned close enough that she could smell him. Delicious. Like a clean shirt, freshly ironed—and something else, too. Something like the ocean on a cool, breezy day. “How did you get that antirelationship vibe?”
And just like that, without any more encouragement than his simply asking the question, she willingly told him stuff only Harper, who was not only her sister but also her best friend, had ever known.
“There was this guy, Nathan Christoff. I met him my freshman year at UO. Nathan was tall and lean, a great actor, very intense. I was wildly attracted to him, but he was...elusive.”
Roman was watching her closely. She couldn’t read his expression. Then he said, “So you chased him.”
She laughed—at the memory and because the stranger beside her had known instantly what she would do. “I did chase him. Shamelessly. Until he finally got honest and admitted that he was completely gone on me, too.”
“But...?”
She shifted her gaze downward. Staring at her Chucks, gripping the edge of the stage harder than she needed to, she filled in the blanks for him. “Nathan had stage four leukemia. It was in remission, but he warned me that the odds weren’t good. It was likely to come back.”
Roman’s thick, black brows drew together, and his eyes knew too much. “This isn’t a happy story, is it?”
She bit her upper lip and shook her head. “I finally managed to make him see that I just wanted to be with him. He stopped resisting and we were a couple. But he never would come home with me to meet the family, so no one here in town except Harper knew that I had a special guy. We were happy, Nathan and me, for several months. Then he got sick again. He died three years ago.” She stared out over all the empty seats, her gaze ranging up to the balcony and then on overhead to the spectacular chandelier. It was eight feet tall, that chandelier. It weighed twelve hundred pounds, an iron-framed paper-and-silk creation in the style of a Chinese lantern.
Roman said nothing, not for the longest time. They sat there in the empty theater, just the two of them, like they were the only two people in the world. It probably should have felt weird, sharing all that silence with a man she’d just met.
But it didn’t feel weird. It felt easy between them. Easy and exciting, simultaneously.
Finally, she admitted, “I haven’t been with anyone since he died, haven’t wanted to be. After a year or so, I wasn’t even sad anymore. Just happy on my own, graduating from college, getting going on the rest of my life here in my hometown.” She closed her eyes and shook her head, another laugh escaping. “I can’t believe I laid all that on you.”
“I wanted to know.” He took her hand.
And she let him. His touch was warm. Firm. Heat and something very close to longing skated up her arm and straight to her heart—for all the things she’d honestly believed she would never want again.
Was she getting a little carried away here?
No doubt about it.
She pulled her hand away.
He let go reluctantly—or did she only want to think that he didn’t want to let go?
Roman glanced at his watch. It was an Omega, a gorgeous thing, the kind that cost as much as a car and did everything but your taxes for you. She was sure he was going to say he had to get going.
She was wrong.
He asked, “Are you hungry? It’s lunchtime. And I remember this fish place from when I was growing up. It’s not far from here—if it’s still there...”
She knew what restaurant he meant because she knew every restaurant in town. “You mean Fisherman’s Korner. It’s still open, still serving the best fish and chips on the Oregon coast.”
“Have lunch with me there.”
“Yes,” she said, far too eagerly—and then reminded herself that she really didn’t know him. He’d said he’d gone to school with Connor, and he probably had. But she didn’t remember any of her older brothers ever mentioning him back then. Not that she should remember—but still, she definitely needed to take her own car. “I have to see who’s still here and either lock up or get them to do it if they leave before I come back. You go ahead. I’ll meet you there. Fifteen minutes, tops.”
* * *
When she arrived at the fish place on Ocean Road, Roman was waiting outside for her, leaning against a sleek black sports car—the famous one made in Italy, with doors that opened upward, like wings.
“This car,” she said, shaking her head, trailing a finger along the gleaming hood. “You’d better write the arts council a check, Roman Marek.”
He put his hand to his broad, hard chest, right over his heart. “You have my solemn word on that.”
They went inside. The food was excellent, as always, and being with Roman was easy and fun. Even the silences were comfortable. He said he’d moved back to town from Las Vegas and bought a house on Treasure Cove Circle. Hailey knew the house. It was a mansion nestled in its own private oceanfront reserve, surrounded by beautiful old-growth forest, overlooking a secluded stretch of beach.
“I want to see you again,” he said as he walked her back out to her car. She gave him her number and when he gathered her close, she didn’t resist.
The kiss was just right, a tender, sweet getting-to-know-you kind of kiss. His lips felt so good brushing against her own, and excitement sizzled through her. They both pulled back slowly and just stood there at the driver’s door of her Kia Sportage, grinning at each other for a long string of lovely seconds.
“See you soon,” he said as he pulled open the driver’s door for her.
She climbed in and he shut the door. Then he stood there, the afternoon sun gleaming on his dark brown hair, as she backed from the parking space and drove away.
For the rest of the day, Hailey felt like the living, breathing representation of some old romantic song. She walked on air and danced on clouds. She’d met a guy she wanted to see again. That hadn’t happened since Nathan.
She couldn’t stop smiling as she sat at the kitchen table in the family cottage she shared with Harper and worked on her plans for the Christmas show—which desperately needed an actual name. Later in the afternoon, she was back at the theater, greeting the parents as they dropped off their children for Fall Revue rehearsals.
It was the usual circus, corralling all the kids, giving them instructions that they immediately forgot. There was some pushing and one of the little girls cried. Hailey consoled and coaxed and loved every minute of it—she always did. But somehow, more so today.
Because she kind of had butterflies over Roman Marek, and for three long years she’d honestly believed that all her butterflies had shriveled up and died.
After the moms and dads returned and took their kids home, Hailey and Harper spent an hour talking props and costumes—what to make and what to try to scavenge at cut-rate prices or, better yet, for free. Eventually they called it a night and headed to Beach Street Brews for burgers and beers.
The waitress took their orders, filled their mugs and left the rest of the pitcher on the table.
Harper raised her mug. “Here’s to us. We did what needed doing for a
nother whole day.”
Hailey clicked her mug against her sister’s. “We need a name for the Christmas show.”
Harper licked the foam mustache from her upper lip, her gaze locked with Hailey’s. “Pageant?”
“Bor-ing.” Hailey pretended to flick a bit of lint off her shoulder.
“Hometown Holiday?” Harper was watching her much too closely. Hailey was ten months older, and yet in so many ways they were like twins. They read each other’s minds, finished each other’s sentences, knew when something had changed for the other. “Christmas on Carmel Street?”
“Hmm. Yummy alliteration and the theater is on Carmel Street. It has possibilities.”
Harper leaned close. “You can’t stop grinning. What happened today?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Liar. Tell me.”
Hailey considered holding out a little longer, just for the fun of it. Instead, she surrendered to the inevitable. “Ever heard of Roman Marek?”
Harper’s eyes widened. “You met a guy.”
Hailey tried not to look wildly gleeful. “Same age as Connor, grew up here, moved to Nevada. Now he’s back in town. He’s bought the house on Treasure Cove Circle.”
“The house with the private forest all around it and the primo beach down below?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s the only house on Treasure Cove Circle.”
“Tell me everything.”
Hailey gave a purposely casual shrug. “He dropped by the theater. We started talking, then later I met him at Fisherman’s Korner for lunch.”
“So...sexy single dad with kids in the show?”
“No, he said he’d only come in to have a look around.”
Harper was still staring at her, laser-focused. “Marek. The name’s not familiar.” Harper’s eyebrows scrunched up. “But if he was in Connor’s grade in school, that makes him—”
“Eight years ahead of us.” Their mother had held Hailey back a year so that she and Harper could start kindergarten together. “Seven years older than me. Is that too old for me?”
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