by Beth Andrews
And, now that he thought about it, it kind of was.
“I mean...do you guys have plans. Tonight?”
He held his breath while she frowned up at him, the snow collecting on her curly hair, her cheeks turning pink. “Why the sudden interest in whether Bryce and I have plans or not?”
“No reason. I just... I thought if you weren’t busy, maybe I could come in for a little bit. My parents aren’t home,” he said before she could tell him no way and slam the door shut. “They took my nieces’ into Pittsburgh to see some holiday dance show and won’t be home until later and I just thought maybe, if you weren’t doing something, and I’m not doing something, we could...do something together.”
Jesus, you’d think he’d never asked a girl out, let alone talked to one before. Used to be a time, before he and Kennedy started going out, when he was pretty good at this stuff. Now, faced with one curly-haired hippie chick, he was acting like an idiot.
And he didn’t care. As long as it got him into her house, he didn’t care at all.
“Why?” she finally asked.
“I told you. My parents aren’t—”
“No, why do you want to hang out with me? I don’t see how your parents not being home is a problem, as we both know you’re capable of spending the night alone at your own house. So, why on earth would you want to come to my house, where you know there are six boys who run wild?”
He rubbed his fingers across the steering wheel. Back and forth. Back and forth. “I just... I miss you,” he admitted softly, his throat tight. He forced himself to meet her gaze, steeled himself against the suspicion and wariness he saw there. “I miss being your friend and I hoped...we were getting back to that.”
After last night, those hopes had only gotten bigger. He’d enjoyed being with her, shopping for his nieces. She’d helped him pick out a game for six-year-old Rainie and a puzzle set for three-year-old Lila. Then they’d gone to Panolis for pizza—minus cheese for Gracie’s two slices.
He’d had fun. And he’d thought she did, too.
He waited, holding his breath. She was probably going to tell him to get lost, to go to hell, but in a nicer, Gracie-way that included something positive about them going their separate ways, about it being fate and if they were meant to be friends, they would have found a way back to each other long before this.
That if he’d really wanted to be her friend, he could have made an overture, an attempt to do so again at any time over the past four months.
And she’d be right. She’d be absolutely right and there would be nothing he could say to refute it. He had no excuse except that he was an idiot.
But he was going to save that bit of truth until he really needed to reveal it.
She opened her mouth, probably to put into words what he’d already figured she’d say, when someone pounded on his window. He jumped. Spun around to see Drew grinning at him from outside, snow covering his dark hair.
“Hey, dude, what are you doing?” Drew asked, his voice muted through the glass.
Luke begrudgingly rolled the window down. “Hey.” He wasn’t friends with Drew, didn’t trust him anymore, but that hadn’t stopped Drew from trying to make amends, to be pals again. “I was just dropping Gracie off.”
Drew looked past Luke, his smile fading when he saw Gracie. Then he looked from her to Luke, then back again. “You were bringing her home? From work, right?”
Luke wasn’t sure, but there was something in Drew’s tone that bugged him. Pissed him off. Like Drew was Gracie’s dad and was making sure some horny teenage boy wasn’t trying to make time with her in the driveway.
“Yeah,” he said. “From work.”
“Oh.” Drew seemed to relax but was still looking at them funny, as if he didn’t like what he was seeing. “Hey, do you want to come in?” Drew lived next door to Gracie. “We can play some Xbox. Order a pizza.”
“Actually,” Gracie said, “Luke is coming to my house. He’s going to help us string popcorn for the tree.”
A grin split Luke’s face. “Yeah. Sorry, man.”
“No problem,” Drew said, his eyes narrowed, but Gracie had sounded perfectly sincere, cool and collected, as if she lied every day. “See you later.”
He walked away, across the yard separating his house from Gracie’s. Luke rolled his window up, turned off the engine then got out of the SUV. He went behind the vehicle, meeting Gracie at the bottom of the steps leading to the porch.
“Thanks,” he said as they started up the stairs.
“I didn’t mean to overstep or anything,” she told him. “I mean, I’m sure you’re more than capable of telling someone no when you don’t want to hang out with them, but you did ask if you could come in and I... I guess I didn’t want you to make plans with Drew before I gave you my answer.”
She turned and smiled at him and Luke’s chest warmed. “Yeah. No, that’s fine. Great. I’d much rather string popcorn with you and the boys than hang out with him.”
She took another cautious step up—the stairs were covered with snow and ice. “You two haven’t made up then?”
“I’m not interested in being his friend. I can’t trust him. He tried blaming it all on Kennedy, said she came on to him...but he could have said no. Could have told me what was going on instead of screwing her behind my back. I just... I hate liars, you know?”
She slipped and he caught her arm, steadied her.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Fine.” But she was breathless and wouldn’t look at him. “Thanks.”
He thought she looked as if she wanted to say something more, but then she crossed to the door, pulled it open and they were greeted with boys shouting and Christmas music blaring and dogs barking.
“You sure you’re up for this?” she asked.
He grinned. “I can’t wait.”
* * *
“I STILL DON’T understand why you didn’t just come to the wedding rehearsal,” Oakes said to Daphne when they were walking across the parking lot to the restaurant where the rehearsal dinner was being held.
“I didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”
“I hope there aren’t any surprises,” Oakes said, taking her arm so she didn’t slip in her high heels. Why she didn’t have on boots was beyond him, but he’d learned never to question a woman’s footwear choice. “Unless you know something I don’t and Charlotte has an ex-boyfriend who plans on showing up and not holding his peace.”
“Nothing like that—though wouldn’t that be exciting?” she asked and he did a double take, but she looked and sounded serious. “No, I meant the surprise of the whole thing. The music choices and the order of the bridesmaids and, I don’t know, if there are going to be doves released or balloons...”
“Nothing quite so circuslike,” he assured her.
“Shh...don’t tell me. It was the only reason I waited at the B and B for you to be done. And thanks for coming back to get me.”
It wasn’t a problem as Bradford House was on the way to the restaurant. “I’m pretty sure we can expect a surprise-free wedding tomorrow,” he told her as they entered and checked their coats. “Kane couldn’t care less about such things and is probably only going through with the whole ceremony-reception for Charlotte, and she doesn’t seem like the type to go for big, or fancy.”
“She’s not,” Daphne assured him and she would know. She’d spent more time with Charlotte than Oakes had, though he liked his soon-to-be sister-in-law and looked forward to getting to know her better. “I’m sure tomorrow’s ceremony is going to be lovely and without any drama.”
“Is it possible to have a wedding without any drama?”
“Sure. If the bride and groom are both certain this is what they want and they’re both relaxed and excited about starting their future together, instead of worry
ing about putting on some big show that will be talked about for years to come.”
“That sounds like my father’s third wedding.” He frowned. “No, his fourth. His third they got married on the beach in Hawaii, which wasn’t all that bad except we weren’t allowed to get in the water, even after the ceremony. So Kane and C.J. and I snuck off and went for a swim, then got into trouble for getting the bride’s dress wet.”
“Hawaii? I think I remember that... Zach refused to go. Or at least, he tried.”
“And we all wished he would have stayed home he was such a brat the entire week. I thought Kane was going to drop him into an active volcano. But at least the party afterward was fun. Very traditional, complete with roasted pig and hula dancers. Dad’s fourth wedding was the one with the dogs. His bride had two purebred Pomeranians and they went down the aisle first, except for the one that was old and had a problem with incontinence. Pissed right there on the statue of Saint Joseph. I think that’s when Dad decided no more church weddings.”
She laughed. “Well, here’s hoping there’s no spit pig, no bratty kids—like Zach—and no poorly trained dogs at tomorrow’s nuptials.”
“With my family,” he said softly as they entered the room where the dinner was being held, “there are no guarantees.”
The entire room didn’t stop as one, go quiet and turn to look at them.
But it sure as hell felt that way. Probably because C.J. was glaring at him, while his beautiful, blonde niece Estelle was looking at them in surprise. She was the one who came over first, an excellent hostess like her mother and taking over for Kane, who’d been raised with manners and pomp and circumstance, but had stopped acting that formal years ago.
“Uncle Oakes,” Estelle cried, giving him a big hug, complete with teenaged-girl squeal and a little bounce. “Isn’t it great?”
He wrapped his arm around her waist. He couldn’t believe she was eighteen already, that next year she’d be going to college. “Yes, it’s great,” he agreed, knowing that Charlotte’s parents had indulged Estelle and let her help plan this party. At least she’d finally managed to get a decent set of grandparents, even if they were far away. “You remember Daphne Lynch, don’t you? Zach’s sister?”
She gave him a duh look, but then smiled at Daphne. “Hi. I’m so glad you could make it. Come on, you two are sitting with us.”
And Estelle pulled Daphne into the room, chattering the entire time. Oakes followed more slowly and hoped he hadn’t made a mistake bringing her here.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
BY THE END of the night, as Oakes and Daphne walked up the stairs of the quiet B and B, he couldn’t remember what he’d been worried about. His family had been too busy and too involved with the toasts and mingling to have much to say about him bringing Daphne. And she’d been wonderful. Any unease she’d felt last night had disappeared. She fit right in with his crazy family, had made many new friends among Charlotte’s family and friends, chatted with the bridal party, held Charlotte’s toddler niece and charmed everyone.
There had been one tense moment when Senior had seen Daphne. Unable to speak, he’d made the noises that he makes when he was upset, his upper body rocking slightly with agitation—the only movement he could make. It was actually Daphne who figured out what was wrong.
She looked very much like her mother at that age, she’d explained. Senior must have recognized her immediately.
Instead of being cowed or upset by his behavior, she’d gone over to him, sat next to him and just...talked to him. Oakes had no idea what she’d said, but she’d stayed there for quite a long time, smiling and chatting as if it was the most normal thing in the world to have a one-sided conversation with the now disabled man who’d seduced her mother, gotten her pregnant and made her life miserable. Oakes had watched her—how could he not? Had seen how she would point out someone or something, then lean toward Senior to speak so he could hear her.
Oakes wasn’t sure how much his father understood, but he had a feeling that despite suffering the stroke, Senior’s mind was still as sharp as ever. It was his body that had let him down—the communication between that quick mind and his body had gone silent. So when Daphne had finally stood up to leave, giving Senior’s hand a pat in goodbye, Oakes could have sworn that his father had tried to move his hand. Not to brush off her touch, but to hold on.
He glanced at her as they went down the hall. Something he and his father had in common. Oakes couldn’t get enough of her touch, either. Wanted to hold on to her, her laughter and spirit—the pure energy and joy she found in life.
He wanted to hold on and never let go.
Oakes frowned and shoved his hands into his pockets. No, that wasn’t right. He wasn’t falling for her. Yes, he was attracted to her, but it could never work, could never last. Even without their families, without their histories and all the complications brought on by those families and their histories, he and Daphne were too different. She was so young. She still had to finish her education, had to follow her dreams.
At her door, she faced him. “I suppose if I invited you in for a drink, you’d find some convenient excuse to decline?”
He studied her. She sounded like her usual confident self, but there was worry in her eyes, as if the thought of his rejection scared her. “You have drinks in your room?”
There were a few benefits to staying at Bradford House—mainly being separate from the rest of his family—but the conveniences of a B and B differed greatly from that of a four-star hotel. And a minibar wasn’t one of them.
She switched her key from one hand to the other. “I asked Fay to set up a minibar,” Daphne said, as if it was no big deal that she’d gone to the trouble of having drinks ready for them upon their return. “Just in case I could tempt you.”
That was the problem. She tempted him too much. Made him forget all the reasons he should keep his distance from her. That he should tell her good-night and go to his own room. Alone.
“I suppose I could have one drink,” he heard himself say.
Way to stand tough, buddy.
But she looked so happy, so relieved, he couldn’t regret his words or his decision. “Come on in, then.”
They went inside and she turned on one lamp, then another, and he was glad she hadn’t left the room dimly lit. It would’ve made it too cozy that way. Too intimate. He noticed the bar set up to the side and crossed to it while she freshened up. Poured himself a drink and sipped it, and when she said she was putting on something more comfortable, he prayed like hell that she didn’t mean a negligee.
This was a mistake, he thought, staring so hard at the closed bathroom door—he was surprised he didn’t burn two eye holes into the wood. Yep. A really bad idea, and he prided himself on only making good decisions—unlike his father, who’d spent a lifetime making bad decision after bad decision. He set his drink down, turned to go when the door opened.
And Daphne came out in a pair of black yoga pants and a thick sweatshirt that fell off her shoulder.
It was almost worse than a slinky, lacy nightgown because she looked so pretty. Her hair tucked behind her ears, her face washed. Pretty and natural and completely at ease.
He looked at the door leading to the hall. So close. And yet so far.
“I’ll have a soda,” she said, crossing to the seating area near the window. “If you’re pouring.”
He opened a bottle of cola. Added ice to a glass. “No tequila tonight?” he teased.
“I promised my mother I’d be on my best behavior, and I try not to make promises I can’t keep.” She sat on one of the armchairs, tucked her legs underneath her. Smiled in thanks when he handed her the drink. “It was a nice dinner. Estelle was glowing. She’s so happy for your brother.”
Small talk. Oakes relaxed enough to smile. “She loves Charlotte and can’t wait for her and Kane to st
art having kids. She’s even talked about applying to a few colleges on the East Coast once that happens but I don’t see her going through with it. She’s really close to her mom.”
“She might surprise you,” Daphne said. “She’s an adult now.”
“Don’t remind me.”
He was always going to think of her as a little girl. He’d been lucky to spend as much time with her as possible while she was growing up. She lived in Houston with her mom, and Oakes had made it a point to see her at least once a week, to call or text her every few days, especially when Kane was in the army.
“You can sit down,” Daphne said, a grin playing on her lips. “I don’t bite. And, no, I’m not going to add ‘unless you want me to’ because that would be too obvious. And while I don’t mind making myself clear, I try to avoid clichés as much as possible.”
He sat, but found himself on the edge of the chair, his shoulders rigid.
“Wow,” she said, setting down her glass. “You really are nervous, aren’t you? Don’t worry—” she patted his knee “—I didn’t invite you in here to seduce you.”
“I never thought you did,” he said quickly, because if he did admit to that he might as well admit to having a gigantic ego.
“Liar,” she said, but without heat. “Look, I don’t want to trick you into bed or seduce you. When we make love—and I have no doubt it’ll happen because I am an eternal optimist—it will be because we both want to. And not because I happened to wear a tight dress or you’ve had too much to drink or I tossed rose petals on the bed and lit a bunch of smelly candles. I don’t want you that way, Oakes. I want you to be with me, fully, in the moment. One you won’t be able to say I orchestrated.”
He wasn’t sure what to say. He wasn’t shocked by her words and that surprised him more than what she’d said. Maybe he’d known, deep inside, that she felt more for him than friendship. She was so honest. So open. Traits he thought he had in spades. Or ones he used to think he could claim. But he knew he hadn’t been open with her. Hadn’t been completely honest. He’d been too busy trying to hide from her, keeping his distance.
