Marnie, smile firmly in place, sent Jericho a glance. “We wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”
Jericho almost choked on a forkful of hot German potato salad, but after he managed to swallow, he threw in, deadpan, “Yeah. We’ve been really lookin’ forward to it.”
Marnie said how great the party was. Tessa agreed with her.
It was awkward. And it might have stayed that way. But Marnie and her sister were both on the same page with this. They wanted the rift between the brothers mended.
Tessa asked Jericho how the bike for the charity auction was going. He relaxed when he started talking about his work. And then Ash seemed to lighten up a little, too. He said that he’d seen Zoe’s video footage and he really liked the way the chopper was turning out. By the time Marnie got up to get another beer, Jericho and Ash seemed well on the way to healing the breach caused by the confrontation Thursday morning.
Jericho caught her hand as she rose. “What do you need? I’ll get it.”
From the corner of her eye, she read Ash’s thoughtful expression and her heart lifted. Maybe he was finally realizing what a great guy his brother really was—considerate, tender and kind.
“Just a beer,” she said. “And I can get it. You want one?” At his nod, she asked Ash. He nodded, too. Tessa wanted another glass of lemonade. “Be right back,” Marnie promised as she turned for the kitchen.
The kitchen was packed with people, the door to the dining room blocked with guests sipping tall drinks, chatting and nodding. Marnie went around through the living area—and collided head-on with Zoe, who appeared pretty much out of nowhere, moving fast.
“Oops,” Marnie caught Jericho’s baby sister by the shoulders to steady them both. “Sorry, I…” The apology trailed off. She looked in Zoe’s big blue eyes and saw they were brimming with tears. “What’s happened? Zoe?”
But Zoe only sniffed and wildly shook her head. “I’m so sorry. It’s nothing. Really.” She dashed at her wet eyes as she pulled free of Marnie’s hold and whirled to go the other way, toward the stairs to the second floor, practically at a run.
Marnie trailed along after her, muttering “Excuse me, sorry, excuse me” as she eased her way through the press of guests in the living room. Even though Zoe was obviously upset, they all let her go with no more than a concerned or puzzled glance.
Not Marnie. Yeah, she had a feeling she should probably stay out of it. But then again, well, maybe she could help. And nobody in the immediate Bravo family was nearby to go see if Zoe needed a little support.
At the top of the stairs, Zoe detoured through the first open door, shoving it shut after her.
Marnie hesitated before knocking. Clearly, Jericho’s sister wanted a moment alone. Plus, Jericho would be wondering where she’d wandered off to.
But then, it didn’t seem right to just leave Zoe in misery. Before she had time to talk herself out of it, Marnie gave the door a quick tap, just in case what Zoe really wanted was someone to talk to.
The door opened a slit. One teary blue eye peered out at her.
Marnie suggested, “I was wondering if maybe you wanted…I don’t know, a little company?”
Without a word, Zoe stepped back. Marnie slipped inside and shut the door after her.
The room—a bedroom—was nicely decorated, in sunny yellows and creamy white. The lack of personal items had Marnie figuring that it must be a guest room.
Jericho’s sister dropped to the edge of the bed, whipped a couple of tissues out of a box on the nightstand and buried her face in them. “I’ve really got to do something,” she sobbed. “This can’t go on.”
You do? It can’t? Marnie thought the questions, but didn’t say them. Instead, she approached and sat down next to Zoe. She’d never been all that good with crying women. This was more a job for Tessa, who had all the tender, interested noises down pat, who didn’t feel the least uncomfortable grabbing people in loving hugs.
But Marnie was the one who was here. So she snaked an arm across Zoe’s shoulders and pulled her close.
Zoe put up no resistance. She dropped her head to Marnie’s shoulder with a ragged little sigh. “I know my father’s really trying,” she said in a tear-clogged voice, “to be a better person, to be more…understanding. To quit acting like he has the right to run our lives…” Zoe sniffled and dabbed at her nose.
“But…?” Marnie softly prompted after several seconds of silence had passed.
Zoe gestured wildly with her fistful of tissues. “He called me a…free spirit.” She sobbed and pressed the wad of tissue to her face again.
Marnie didn’t get it. “A free spirit? That’s bad?”
Another tight sob. “Actually, it’s his code name for flake.”
“Your dad called you a flake?”
“Essentially, yeah.”
Marnie remembered the other not-so-great stuff she’d heard about Davis, like the cruel, dismissive way he’d once treated Jericho. She knew that he hadn’t been all that excited about Tessa and Ash getting together, either—not at the time, anyway. “What a jerk.”
“Thank you, Marnie. I kind of thought so, too.”
“And he called you a ‘free spirit’ just now, is that it?”
Zoe nodded against Marnie’s shoulder. “Mary was talking to him about how much my photographs add to the cookbook, how hard I worked, getting them just right. And my dad throws his arm around me and squeezes my shoulder and says, ‘Zoe’s our free spirit.’ He gives a laugh. I hate that laugh. It’s a condescending, judgmental laugh, you know? ‘Zoe’s our free spirit.’” She repeated the phrase in a mocking singsong. “I swear, if he ever says that to me again…” She sighed and dabbed at her eyes.
“You’ll what?” Marnie prompted gently.
Zoe waved a hand. “Oh, I don’t know. I shouldn’t be so sensitive, I guess. I mean, it’s basically true, what he said about me. I am a free spirit, a free spirit in a good way—or I have been. Until the last year or so, when it’s starting to get old. I’ve been to college. More than once. Dropped out every time. And I’ve never had a job I couldn’t quit.”
Marnie found herself thinking of her work at SA Choppers. It was the first job she’d ever had where she loved just being there every day. She only hoped, when she went back home, she could find something half as satisfying. She said, “I know this is stating the obvious, but what about your photography? Have you looked for some kind of position where you do what you really like doing—where you can take pictures?”
Zoe sagged closer. “I haven’t, no. I guess I ought to. I ought to start looking for something that interests me, shouldn’t I? Something that doesn’t require a degree, but also something I can do without getting bored out of my skull.”
“Yeah. I’d say a job you enjoy might help a lot.” She suddenly thought of her own family. And that made her chuckle.
Zoe pulled back to look at her. “What?”
“It’s just, well, families, that’s all. My family takes forever to get that I’ve changed. When I was a kid, I was a wild little sucker. So I was the wild one in all their minds long after I’d settled down into comfortable, upscale tedium in Santa Barbara with the supposed love of my life.”
Zoe tossed her wad of tissues toward the wastebasket in the corner. It went in without touching the rim. “I take it the upscale life in Santa Barbara didn’t work out?”
“Nope. My true love dumped me.”
“What a fool.”
“I think so, too. But it’s for the best. I’m learning that now.”
Zoe’s grin was slow and knowing. “So you like hanging out with big, bad Jericho, working at his chopper shop.”
A strange tenderness washed through her. “He’s big. But he’s not bad. In fact, he’s a good man. The best. And yeah, I really like working at SA Choppers.”
Zoe held Marnie’s gaze. “Are you falling for the family rebel?”
It was a valid question, one Marnie had no intention of answering. “This conversa
tion is about you, not me.”
“I only want to say that if that happened, I think it would be just great.”
“Thank you.”
“And you do make me think, you know? I’m starting to get that it’s not so much what my dad said that bothers me, it’s that I know they all think I’m a total slacker. So when they say ‘free spirit,’ I hear ‘lazy and unmotivated.’ And that really bugs me. Because I guess I kind of am.”
“A slacker? No, you’re not.”
Zoe let out a sharp laugh. “We know each other for like ten minutes at Jericho’s shop yesterday and five more minutes right now. I don’t think you’re in a position to tell me whether I’m a deadbeat or not.”
“You’re not a deadbeat. I know this. You just need the right job. You need to build your confidence a little. Then when your dad starts playing those old tapes, you can just smile and blow it off. Or tell him without a lot of heat that you feel hurt when he says that stuff.”
“It all sounds really good.” Zoe said the words, but Marnie doubted she meant them because she was simultaneously shaking her head.
Marnie backpedaled a little. “Or forget the whole job thing if that’s not what you want right now. You could just try and talk with your dad, try to get him to see that you don’t appreciate the free spirit crap and you’d really like it to stop.”
“It’s not only my dad. It’s all my overachieving brothers. Even my mother—who’s the sweetest, kindest woman in the world, by the way—thinks I should either get a nice husband and have a bunch of babies, or find something else constructive to do with my life.”
“You want a bunch of babies? Or a husband?”
“For God’s sake, no—not now, anyway. Maybe eventually. In a few years, after I meet the right guy, settle down and all that.”
“So about that job—or a little heart-to-heart with your dad?”
“I’ll think about it, Marnie. I seriously will.” She pressed her hands against her cheeks and let out a gusty sigh. “Thanks.”
“Did I help?” Marnie couldn’t hide her surprise.
“You absolutely did. I’ve actually stopped longing to punch my dad in the face. And my tears are almost dry—and about Jericho?”
“Yeah?”
“He’s had some rough times. But he is a good guy. The best.”
“I think so, too.”
Zoe put on a warning expression. “Treat him right.”
Marnie resisted the guilty urge to explain that she and Jericho were open-ended, just for now, nothing permanent. “I will,” she said firmly. “I promise.”
Zoe tipped her head toward the door. “You go on. He’ll be wondering where you went. I’ll fix my face and be down in a few minutes.”
“You sure?”
Zoe nodded. “I’m fine now. Really.”
Marnie found Jericho in the dining room. When he spotted her, he gave her a questioning look.
She made her way over to him. “Sorry. I got sidetracked, visiting with Zoe….”
He didn’t say anything, only nodded as he reached out and guided her hair back over her shoulder. A simple touch. And an intimate one. It felt good, companionable. Tender. It made her breath get all clogged up in her throat.
Marnie knew in her head that they weren’t forever. But sometimes, when he looked at her the way he was looking now, she felt like they were, like she’d actually found the right guy for her when she really wasn’t even looking—a good guy, a steady-hearted guy. A guy who’d taken a few hard knocks and gotten back up on his feet and gone on with his life.
But then she thought of Mark, of his kind face, his serious eyes. A few weeks ago, he’d been the only guy for her. And maybe this thing with Jericho really was just a rebound thing, something hot and bright and bound to fade.
“What?” he asked after a minute, his voice a rough caress.
She shook herself. “Beer, remember? We’re here for the beer.”
They got their beers and the lemonade for Tessa and went back outside, where the sky had darkened.
Someone had turned on heat torches, to cut the chill of the spring evening. They sat for a while, chatting with Tessa and Ash, and Luke and Mercy, too, who took seats at the table with them.
Little Lucas sat in his father’s lap, drooping toward sleep as the grown-ups talked softly in the gathering night. Once or twice, Luke brushed the top of his son’s head with a kiss. Marnie saw Tessa and Ash exchange a look and knew they were thinking that it wouldn’t be long before they had their own baby to cuddle to sleep.
By ten, Jericho was ready to get going.
The party had been clearing out over the past hour. Luke, Mercy and Lucas had already left. Tessa and Ash, too.
Jericho and Marnie had stayed on. Surprisingly, he was enjoying himself. She seemed to be, too. They ended up on the front porch, sitting in the porch swing together, slowly swaying back and forth. Beyond the porch roof, the dark sky was thick with stars.
She said, “The land is so pretty here. I love the rolling hills, the oaks and fields of wildflowers we passed on the drive up. And the way the long grasses bend in the wind….”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “The Hill Country is some of the nicest country in Texas. Gets good and dry in summer, though.”
“Makes me want to take off my shoes and run around barefoot.”
“That could be fun—as long as you don’t step on a rattler.”
She groaned and poked him in the ribs. And then settled in closer against his side.
He pressed his lips to her hair, sucked in a slow, deep breath of her rain-fresh scent. “You about ready to head home?”
“Hmm.” She kept them swaying, one toe to the porch boards.
At this rate, they’d still be sitting on the swing when morning came. He eased his arm from around her shoulder and got up. “Come on…”
“This was fun.” She let him pull her to her feet.
He wrapped his arm around her again—because he could. Because it felt good, to have her slim, strong little body tucked against his side.
Of course, she lingered in the kitchen, telling Mary what a great party it was, whispering with Zoe—over what, he had no clue. The two of them had their heads together like best friends for life or something. He just had her moving again when she decided that Mary should sign his copy of the cookbook.
So he got one of the few copies left on the living room table and Mary wrote “With Love and Thanks to Jericho” on the inside front flap and then her autograph beneath that.
Ten minutes later, they were finally on the road.
He teased her as they drove. “You got something big going on with Zoe?”
She turned her head and smiled at him, a dreamy smile. “I like her. We had a nice…talk.”
“About what?”
She glanced away. “About her life and what she wants to do with it, I guess you could say.”
He chuckled. “It’s a woman thing, right?”
“Exactly. A woman thing—but if you could just not call her a free spirit, ever again, that would be helpful.”
He knew then what must have happened. “My dad called her a free spirit and she got upset about it.”
Marnie turned her head again to look at him, her chin tilted at a defiant angle. “Yeah. So, see? You’re not the only one who feels like an underachiever in the Bravo family.”
He grunted. “That supposed to make me feel better about being the family embarrassment?”
“You are not the family embarrassment and you’re in control of how you feel about your place in the family.”
“You sound like a shrink, you know that?”
“Hey. It’s better than being in need of one—and I’m just pointing out that sometimes it’s so easy to start thinking you’re the only one. And then you find out the guy next to you feels just as lonely and left out as you do.”
At the guesthouse, she closed the blinds and came into his arms. He kissed her and thought how great it would be if he never had
to let her go.
But he did have to let her go, he reminded himself. And he would, when the time came.
He undressed her, right there in the living room, peeling the silk shirt off her, the lacy bra, the tight jeans and her little purple thong. She kicked away the red shoes.
And then she returned the favor, first getting down and pulling off his boots and his socks, then rising to deal with his shirt and his jeans. Until he was as naked as she was.
Slowly, he sank to his knees in front of her. He parted the tan curls and kissed her, easing her thighs wide so he could kiss her even more deeply, so he could run his tongue along her silky, wet, secret folds. Until she shuddered and collapsed over his shoulder, laughing and moaning at the same time.
He rose, lifting her with him, easing her down from over his shoulder, taking her nipple in his mouth. She threw her head back, fingers splayed in his hair, and let out a pleasured moan. And then she lowered her mouth to his and slid down his body until her face was below his and her ankles were firmly hooked around his waist.
She took charge, reaching down behind her, her sleek body bowing backward, to wrap her hand around him good and tight, to guide him into place. Once she had him in position, she flexed those strong thighs of hers.
With another long moan, she lowered herself onto him. He cupped her bottom, fingers sliding in, providing extra stimulation as she moved on him.
His legs went to rubber. But still, somehow, he remained upright, and she knew how to wrap herself around him, so her weight was evenly distributed, her legs and arms hooked securely in place. She held on tight enough for both of them.
He came first. But not by much. He was still spilling into her when she followed him over the edge.
And then she curled herself down close to him, tucking her head against his neck, licking him there, gently sucking his flesh against her slightly parted teeth.
It felt good.
So good…
He carried her into the bedroom. As he laid her down, she watched his face, her blue eyes glowing, soft with satisfaction, her smooth cheeks flushed. He thought again that he never wanted to lose her.
A Bride for Jericho Bravo Page 12
