Back to You: Bad Boys of Red Hook

by Robin Kaye

  “What are you doing here?” She seemed more shocked than angry, but she didn’t push him away.

  “I fixed the problem with the boat and came home. I never should have left like I did. I should have taken time to talk to you and hear you out. I’m sorry.”

  “You ran.”

  “I kept telling myself I had to leave—and I did. I have a lot riding on this boat, but it was an excuse for running. You’re right. But it was different this time: I didn’t run because I was scared; I ran because I was hurt. I was hurt that you didn’t feel you could trust me. I was hurt because the man I love and respect most in the world thought I was capable of deserting my own child.”

  She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Breezy, I loved you when we were kids, but what I feel for you now—it’s not even in the same galaxy. I fell in love with you all over again. I fell in love with a woman who would take down a grown man with a frying pan to protect a child she loves. I fell in love with the woman who single-handedly dealt with Pop and turned a run-down longshoreman’s dive into a classy, thriving restaurant and bar. I fell in love with a woman who worked tirelessly in her father’s memory to make her home the incredible place Red Hook is becoming. I fell in love with you, Nicki, and my hometown. I want to come back to you, Breezy, if you’ll have me. I want to be here with you and our family. I don’t think I can go on without you. I don’t want to try.”

  She blinked back tears, and she hadn’t kicked his ass to the curb yet. He took it as a good sign. She still wore that shell-shocked look, but that was okay. She’d process it in her own time.

  He looked pointedly at the bed covered with clothes. “So, what are you doing with all this stuff?”

  “I was packing, but I remembered I don’t even have luggage.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Patrice and Rocki goaded me into applying for my passport after you left. I was mad at you and I was hurt, but most of all I was scared. You’ve been right since day one. I was becoming my mother.”

  “Hold on. I didn’t mean—”

  Bree rested her finger on his lips. “I was. I didn’t see it at first. My mother doesn’t leave her house except to go out into her backyard. She’s afraid of life, and I’ve been enabling her for years.” She shook her head as if to rid herself of something. “Storm, did you know that I’ve never gone more than a hundred miles from Red Hook?”

  He shrugged. “So. It’s not a federal offense. A lot of people don’t travel.”

  “It wasn’t because I didn’t have the opportunity. I could have gone to Europe for a semester abroad; I had a job offer in California. I just didn’t have the guts. And I was afraid to love you, afraid to let you love me.”

  “Bree, you love Red Hook. It’s your home.”

  “Yes, but Red Hook is a place. I wanted to fulfill my father’s dream and make Red Hook everything it can be. But that was his dream. I finally figured it out. Red Hook is home, but the only place I’ve ever felt complete was with you. So today I bought a plane ticket.”

  “What?”

  Bree pulled a bunch of papers out of her pocket and held them over her chest. “I just spent twenty-three hundred dollars on a ticket to Auckland because that’s where I thought you were. I was going to see if you’d forgive me and come back to me. I love Nicki and Pete, and I love my job, but I don’t want to live without you ever again. Storm, I loved the boy you were and the man you’ve become. I’ll love you forever.”

  “Thank God.” Storm kissed her and couldn’t believe his luck. He pulled the ticket from between them and let out a laugh.

  “I don’t see what’s so damn funny. It’s a nonrefundable ticket, and the plane leaves in three hours.”

  He tossed the ticket and her passport onto the floor. “Looks like you’re gonna be missing your flight, babe.” With one swipe of his hand, the pile of clothes flew off the bed, and then he kissed her, backing her up to the bed. He had her pants unbuttoned and was pulling her shirt up, which meant he had to release her mouth.

  Her eyes sparkled with excitement and anger—his favorite combination. “Are you telling me I just blew twenty-three hundred dollars?”

  “No, we just need to change the ticket.” He hoped. He loved seeing the fire in her, but he wasn’t about to push it.

  Her shirt hit the ground, and he tackled her onto the bed. His body covered hers and he was almost home; he just needed to lose his pants and hers. He looked down at her, her hair wild, her eyes flashing, and her lips swollen from his kisses.

  “What the hell are we going to do with the ticket?”

  “I guess there’s always the honeymoon.” He was getting used to her shocked look. It didn’t scare him half as much as it used to. Still, he felt the need to clarify. He’d never proposed to anyone before and hoped to hell he never had to again. “You know that thing you do after you get married?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Was that a yes?”

  There was that fire in her eyes again. Only now the heat danced with anticipation and promise. “Uh-huh. Welcome home, Storm.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Bree parked her car outside the Crow’s Nest and looked over at her mother. “Are you doing okay?” It had been almost three weeks since her mother, with much arm-twisting, had agreed to get help for her problem. The medication and biweekly visits to a caring therapist were working wonders.

  Her mother gave her a shaky smile. “The therapist said it was going to be difficult, but it’s something I’m strong enough to do. I’ll be fine.”

  Bree reached over and hugged her. “I’m so proud of you, Mom.”

  Noreen teared up. “I’m so sorry, honey. I should have done this so long ago…. I wasted so much time. If I had known—”

  “Stop. You’re doing something about it now. That’s all that matters, right?”

  Noreen took a deep breath, wiped her eyes, and pasted on a smile. “Right.”

  “Good. Coretta will be there with Patrice and Francis and their kids, Pete and Nicki, of course, Storm and Logan, and probably Rocki.”

  Bree got out of the car and placed her hand on top of the door, her new engagement ring clinking against the frame. She still wasn’t used to wearing it and couldn’t help but admire the way the pear-shaped diamond caught the light. She’d never been happier and did her best not to sigh.

  When she looked up, her mother smiled at her—a real honest-to-goodness smile. Noreen Collins lit up like the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center. Bree had even talked her into Internet shopping, and she wore a new outfit. “Mom, you look amazing. I’m so glad you’re here.” She walked around the car and took her mother by the hand like she used to. Instead of stifling, it felt as natural as she suspected it should. Hand in hand they walked toward the Crow’s Nest.

  The outer door opened and Storm stepped out, engulfing Bree in a hug before turning to her mom. “Hi, Mrs. Collins.”

  “Hello, Storm. Please call me Noreen.”

  “Okay.” He looked from Bree to her mother. “Look, there’s something I have to tell you.” He wiped his face with his hand. “I didn’t have anything to do with it, but it seems they’ve planned a surprise party. I’m sorry, babe.” Storm took her mother’s hand. “Noreen, if you’re not up for it—”

  “It’s fine.” Her mother looked Storm in the eye and smiled—two genuine smiles in less than a few minutes. “Pete called and asked if a party was okay with me. I haven’t been to a party in years, and I wouldn’t miss this one for the world.”

  Bree wondered if she was hearing things. “You knew?” Wow, the medication was really working. A huge weight she hadn’t even been aware she’d carried slipped from her shoulders.

  Storm opened the door and ushered them in. “Noreen, we’re here for you if the gang gets to be too much, but from the way you look, I think you’re going to have fun.”

  Bree watched Storm take her mother’s arm and fell a little bit more in love with h
im. She didn’t think it was possible, but she did. This ranked right up there as the happiest day of her life. Stepping inside, she took it all in and blinked back tears. Everyone was there. Everyone—Nicki and Logan, Rocki’s band, Storm, Bree’s favorite customers, the liquor distributors, Pete’s entire crew, Patrice and her whole family, even Thomas Danby.

  Storm gave her his good-time grin and a what-are-you-gonna-do shrug before pointing out the banner hanging over the bar that said CONGRATULATIONS, BREE AND STORM!

  She sucked in a lungful of air and tried to calm her racing heart.

  Pete stepped out of the crowd wearing a smile so dazzling, Bree was tempted to reach for her sunglasses. He wrapped his arms around her mother and hugged her close. “Noreen, it’s so wonderful to have you back where you belong. I’ve missed you.” He gave her a smacking kiss on both cheeks. “Quinn is looking down on you and smiling.”

  Noreen placed a hand on Pete’s cheek. “I’m so sorry—”

  “Now, none of that. We’re celebrating a wonderful new beginning, for you, and for Bree and Storm. It’s a fine day for it, don’t you think?”

  Noreen nodded, and Pete kept his arm around her as they made their way to the bar. “Now sit yourself down and I’ll get you a drink. What will it be?”

  “Just a sparkling water, Pete.”

  Bree caught Nicki, who’d run right into her arms, hugging her tight. “Hi, sweetie.” Nicki wore a frilly dress. “Look at you!” Nicki held out the skirt of her dress. “Miss Rocki bought it and made me wear it. It’s pink.” Nicki obviously wasn’t a fan of the color or the dress.

  Storm put his arm around Nicki. “I think you both look beautiful.”

  Nicki beamed, and Bree was pretty sure she was doing her fair share of beaming too. But then she had been ever since Storm came back to her.

  One of Patrice’s kids called Nicki; she said a quick good-bye and ran off to play.

  Storm tugged her away as Patrice’s mother took the stool beside Noreen. “Your mom’s doing great, huh?”

  “Yes, she’s doing amazingly well.” She saw the tension in her mother’s stiff back, but Bree supposed that was to be expected. Life was good. Pete too was getting better and stronger every day. It was great to see him behind the bar again.

  Bree rested against Storm’s chest as he kissed the side of her neck. “Let’s take a few minutes to say hello to everyone else. Coretta’s keeping an eye on your mom. We won’t go far.”

  Bree turned in his arms. “How do you know the exact right thing to say?”

  “I know you, Breezy, and I love you.”

  Bree and Storm spent the next hour talking with friends and dancing to the “For Lovers Only” playlist Rocki performed with her band.

  Storm held her close, swaying to “Someone Like You.” “Uh-oh.”

  Bree leaned back to look into his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  “Thomas and your mother have their heads together, and Pop looks…Damn, he looks jealous.”

  “What?” Storm spun them around so Bree could see. Thomas definitely seemed to be cozying up to her mom, and Pete looked put out. “Maybe Thomas is just being friendly and Pete’s being protective.”

  “Thomas is definitely being friendly—real friendly. Your mom’s a beautiful woman, Bree, and Thomas is single. His wife died years ago, and he’s a great guy, but Pop doesn’t like it at all. Your mom, on the other hand, looks as if she’s having a great time.”

  “She’s never dated anyone other than my dad. As far as I know, she’s never even looked at another man.”

  “Hate to break it to you, babe, but she’s lookin’ now.”

  Once Rocki finished the song, she told everyone to head over to the bar for an announcement, and Bree and Storm followed the crowd.

  Pete, as usual, took charge. “Okay, everyone. We’re here to celebrate Bree and Storm’s engagement.”

  Everyone cheered.

  Pete signaled for quiet. “But that’s not all. Bree, come up here, sweetheart. We have a little something especially for you.”

  Bree felt her face flush as Storm led her to the end of the bar. She couldn’t imagine what he and Pete had up their sleeves. Her mother joined them, looping her arm around Bree’s waist.

  Pete brought a large, thin, beautifully wrapped box from behind the bar. “This is for you from all of us. We’re so proud of you, Bree.”

  “Me? Why?” Bree pulled the wrapping paper off the box, set it on the bar, and lifted the top. She took out a plaque with the Wall Street Journal article about the Harbor Pier Project and her work on the Red Hook Revitalization Committee. “Oh my, it’s beautiful.” It took her breath away. Next to it was an artist’s rendering of the Harbor Pier Project. She’d never seen the drawing before. She looked at the artists’ signatures—it was signed Storm Decker and Nicki.

  “Storm, you and Nicki drew this?”

  Storm shrugged. “I looked over the plans and thought it would be a fun project for us to take on.”

  Nicki stood in front of Bree’s mother. Noreen’s hands rested on Nicki’s shoulders as Nicki bounced with excitement. “Do you like it, Bree?”

  “Like it? I love it. I love you, Nicki.” She pulled her into a hug and then kissed Storm as he wrapped his arms around the two of them, pulling her mom into the group hug. “It’s the best gift I’ve ever received. Thank you.”

  Storm brushed away a tear from her cheek. “Okay, Pop. Hand it over.”

  She wasn’t sure what Storm was talking about until Pete handed him a hammer and nail. Storm walked right up to the Wall of Fame and hung her plaque as the crowd applauded.

  Bree stopped him. “Storm, that’s for your family.”

  Storm kissed her again. “You’re right, which is why we’re putting it here in the center, just where it belongs. You’re the heart of our family, Bree. You always have been.”

  Ready for another visit to Red Hook?

  Don’t miss the next book in Robin Kaye’s

  Bad Boys of Red Hook series,

  YOU’RE THE ONE

  Coming in June from Signet Eclipse.

  “The head cook just quit.” Logan looked from Rocki to Francis.

  Francis did a double take. “Rex would never just up and quit.”

  Logan rubbed his forehead where the mother of all headaches was forming. “He’s an only child and his mother just had a stroke. She’s paralyzed on the left side—and she lives in Florida. It’s not as if he really had a choice.”

  Rocki tapped her foot. “Bummer.”

  Logan couldn’t believe this. “Come on, guys, you’re supposed to help me out. Can either of you cook?”

  The two of them looked like a pair of bobblehead dolls in a crosswind.

  “Neither can I. This is just great. What am I supposed to do now?”

  Rocki shrugged one shoulder. “I suggest you start looking for a cook.”

  “It’s Sunday. How the hell am I going to find a cook by opening on Tuesday?”

  A grin split Francis’s face. “You can put a help-wanted sign in the window.”

  Rocki went around the bar and poured herself a soda, missing the glass and making a mess of the bar Logan had just scrubbed. “Have you asked Pete?”

  “No, I didn’t want him to have another coronary.”

  Both Rocki and Francis shot him matching glares.

  “Bad joke. He’s had a rough morning. I caught him smoking his cigar on the roof and we had words.” Logan was definitely not ready for the role reversal. “All I need to do is tell Pop his cook just quit. He’s supposed to be recovering, and I’m supposed to be managing the place, remember?”

  Rocki took a long sip of her soda and watched him over the rim of the glass. “It’s not as if you’re going to be able to hide it from him for long. He’ll notice on Tuesday. Maybe he has a backup chef.”

  Francis shook his head. “I doubt it. He’s never needed one before.”

  Logan’s phone vibrated. He didn’t have to check to know it was his fiancé,
Payton; she’d been calling constantly crying desertion since he’d traveled from California to Brooklyn to help out his father. He let the call go to voice mail. “Fine. I’ll tell Pop, but first I’m going to put up a help-wanted sign. Maybe an incredible cook will walk by and want the job.”

  Francis laughed. “Yeah, and maybe I’ll win the New York lottery.”

  Logan got busy with the sign, figuring he had nothing to lose, and other than putting an ad on Craigslist later, he didn’t have a plan B.

  Logan taped the sign up in the front window and wondered if temp services had cooks—it was worth a try.

  He was still running his finger over the tape when a beautiful dark-haired woman dragging a suitcase shouldered the door open. She was a little thing with shoulder-length black hair, pale, almost translucent skin, and the darkest blue eyes he’d ever seen.

  “You’re hiring a cook?”

  Logan shot a glance at Rocki and Francis, who stood beside the bar with their mouths hanging open.

  “That’s what the sign says. Can you cook?”

  “Honey, there’s nothing I can’t do in a kitchen.” She had a deep, smoky voice that made him think of tangled sheets.

  Between her voice and her comment, Logan’s mind spun directly into the gutter. What was wrong with him? Not only was she not his type, but he was engaged—to a woman who could double as a centerfold. He cleared his throat, temporarily speechless.

  “Lucky for you, I’m looking for a job. May I see the kitchen?”

  “Why?”

  “I won’t work in a dirty or unsafe kitchen.”

  “Where have you worked?”

  “Here and there. You know how it is in the restaurant business.” She pulled a menu out of the rack on the side of the hostess stand and paged through it. “There’s nothing on here I can’t handle. How many people do you seat a night?”