It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time

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It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time Page 3

by Kylie Scott


  And I didn’t want to hate him, but for that shitty comment, I kind of did. I met his flat, unfriendly stare with one of my own. “Mostly with work and friends. But I date sometimes.”

  “Seems like more than sometimes.”

  Like hell I’d be shamed over my dating habits.

  “Thing is, Pete,” I said, “as I remember it, you used to have a pretty constant stream of women coming and going. Is that still the case?”

  “She’s got you there.” Dad shifted in his seat, plastering a smile on his face. It wasn’t quite as authentic as earlier, however. “I can’t even remember their names half the damn time.”

  “Your memory likely isn’t what it used to be, dear,” said Shanti helpfully. Pretty sure the woman was expert level at trolling my father. In which case, I loved her even more.

  Dad just smiled. “How is work, sweetheart?”

  “Fine,” I said. “It’s there.”

  “You’re not enjoying it?”

  I winced. The topic of work was not my favorite, but anything had to be better than further exploration of my dating history. “I have no complaints really—they pay me okay. It’ll look good on my résumé. Just been a little bored lately.”

  “You run the office of an accounting firm, right?” asked Shanti. “How many staff members are there?”

  “I assist the office manager. And around sixty.”

  Her eyes widened. “That’s big.”

  “Yes, and it’s right in the center of town, which is nice.”

  “Was hoping you might be tired of the city by now,” said Dad, sitting back in his chair. The look in his eyes, I couldn’t read at all. Like he was assessing me, maybe? We usually talked every few months or so. A couple of times he’d traveled down south for business and we’d had dinner. Often enough to remain mostly strangers.

  “Why?” I asked, curious.

  The truth was, I’d taken two weeks off instead of just the one. I might spend the second week doing a road trip along the coast, relaxing. Or I might go straight home and start looking for another job. I hadn’t yet made a decision.

  “Helga’s been talking about retiring to spend more time with her grandkids,” he said. “Thought you might like to take over the position.”

  Pete stiffened. “You’re thinking of Adele to run our office?”

  “More than that,” said Dad, warming to the topic. “She could help put proposals together, take over some of the liaising work with contractors and customers. Free us up more to get the real work done.”

  “You’ve never mentioned anything about this.”

  “We like to think of it as a family business, right?” Dad clapped him on the shoulder. “Getting her involved just makes sense. She’s a grown adult, now. Smart, capable, we can trust her, and she used to take a real interest in what was going on. Thought it would be a good idea. Don’t you?”

  “This isn’t awkward at all.” Shanti sighed, placing her hand on top of my father’s. “You’re too used to being the only one in charge, Andrew. Decisions need to be shared now. Let alone just announcing this at dinner.”

  Dad just shrugged. “He’ll be onboard once he thinks it over. It’s a great idea.”

  Meanwhile, Pete’s lips had slammed shut.

  Damn. “Dad, I appreciate the vote of confidence, but . . . I just wasn’t expecting . . .”

  “You always loved it up here,” he said.

  “You do?” Gaze narrowed, Shanti gave me a questioning look. “But it’s been such a long time since you visited. I’ve been waiting to meet you for years, ever since Andrew and I first started seeing one another.”

  “Busy,” I said, and swallowed hard. God, I needed something much stronger than beer. “Like Pete said, just . . . really busy.”

  Dad huffed out a breath and looked to heaven. “Come on, I know we were all a bit upset when that nonsense first happened. But it’s ancient history now. There’s no reason you couldn’t come back.”

  “Since what happened?” asked Shanti slowly.

  No one answered.

  “She’s seeing someone down there. Sounds settled.” Pete’s grip on his bottle of beer was just about white knuckled. “Probably has no interest in moving.”

  “If they were serious, she’d have brought him,” said Dad. Pretty damn accurately.

  “What about Mom?” I asked.

  “You told me she’s away painting, at her artist retreats a lot.” Dad shrugged. “She’s had you close for years and anyway, the woman likes to travel. No reason she can’t come visit you up here for a change.”

  “I don’t know . . .”

  “Why?” Dad pressed. “What don’t you know about? Tell me your concerns and we can sort them out one by one.”

  And I didn’t look at Pete and Pete didn’t look at me. If I’d thought climbing under the table would have helped, I’d already have been on my knees. Pretty sure there was no escape hatch down there, however.

  “Enough,” Shanti said in a stern voice. “Stop pushing her. But also, I hate not knowing what’s going on, and something is definitely going on here. What happened years ago? Somebody explain it to me, please.”

  Jaw tensed, Pete kept his head determinedly turned away.

  Dad sighed. “It was nothing really. A storm in a teacup.”

  No one else said a thing.

  Shanti’s eyes drilled into Dad, and he shrugged, acquiescing. “But I guess you may as well know. Adele started coming up for the summer when she was sixteen. I was usually too busy climbing over half-built houses to spend time with her. So Pete did. He started taking her to the beach with him, going to a movie now and then, stuff like that.”

  “He was just being kind,” I said.

  “Yes, he was. The business was growing fast and took up all of my time back then,” said Dad. “I wasn’t around as much as I should have been.”

  “But you’re going to make up for that now.” Shanti squeezed his hand and Dad meshed their fingers together. God, they were so in love. So good together. Deacon didn’t even particularly like holding hands. No wonder I’d been about to dump him.

  “You want to tell the rest, sweetheart?” asked Dad. “It’s kind of your story.”

  Shanti turned her head, all the better to see me.

  To think, I’d actually been trying to create a good image. The attempt at glorious maturity was shot to shit now. Across the table, Pete raised his bottle of beer to his lips, his cheekbones standing out in stark relief. Not a happy boy.

  Better just to blurt it out and be done with it. It was so stupid, really. But even after all these years, I still felt incredibly embarrassed about the whole thing. “I had a crush on Pete and attempted to seduce him on my eighteenth birthday by flashing my tits at him. He’d refused to see me as an adult, so I decided to press the issue. Dad walked in and assumed Pete had been fooling around with his teenage daughter or something, punched him in the face, and told him he was fired. Dad threatened to call the cops, my mother, and God knows who else. There was a lot of yelling. A fair bit of blood. Lots of people heard it all go down. It wasn’t good.”

  Pete snorted. “It wasn’t good? I spent the fucking night in the emergency room getting my nose set.”

  “I always wondered how it was broken,” said Shanti calmly. “There’s that intriguing bump on the bridge.”

  “I overreacted,” said Dad. “Honestly, I think I feel worse about the whole thing than anyone else.”

  But given the sweat pouring down the back of my dress, and Pete’s squirming in his seat, I was pretty sure this was not true. Though it was cute of him to think so. I kept my eyes down, it seemed safest. “Eventually Dad calmed down. I got him to understand it was all on me and he un-fired Pete.”

  “Yes, well, I didn’t get a chance to thank you for that, what with being in the emergency room and all,” the man bit out.

  “As I’ve said before, I’m sorry.”

  Pete continued to glare at me like I considered kicking kittens and pinch
ing puppies a good time. Maybe I could just sleep in my car for the next few days. If I put the passenger seat down, it should be okay. More comfortable than staying with him, at least.

  “Oh for goodness sake, Peter.” Shanti grinned. “Accept her apology. We all did things we regret when we were young and stupid. Honestly, I think that’s one of the funniest stories I’ve heard in a long time,” she said, turning to me. I can’t believe you actually flashed him.”

  I raised one shoulder. “I’d had a few drinks. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  “And you haven’t been back here since?”

  “No. I haven’t really been welcome.”

  “Well . . .” said Dad. “It wasn’t quite like that.”

  “Sure it was, Dad.”

  He almost smiled. “You did cause a hell of a mess. Pete’s fifteen years older than you, for Christ’s sake.”

  “No wonder you freaked out for a moment, Peter, when I asked if she could stay with you,” said Shanti. “Why, you went as white as a sheet. I was worried you were ill.”

  “I think you’re overexaggerating there.” Pushing back his chair, Pete stood. Tension radiated from every strong line of his body. “I’m going to get us some more drinks. Get dinner on the table.”

  “I’ll help,” said Dad, following him back inside.

  Shanti turned to me and smiled. “Sorry about asking you to stay here, by the way. I got a little carried away with all of the wedding things. I’ve practically filled the whole house. Next time you visit, the guest room will be waiting for you. I promise.”

  “Thanks.”

  She stared out at the view for a moment, obviously thinking deep thoughts. “Adele, I think you and Peter must have been very good friends for him to still be so angry about it all.”

  “Seriously, he didn’t do anything wrong or inappropriate. Please don’t think badly of him—it was all me.”

  “I know that,” she soothed. “He’s an honorable man, a good one. That’s why it’s not like him to hold a grudge.”

  “No, normally if anyone messed with him like that, broke his trust, they’d just be out of his life. That’s not quite possible, here.” I fiddled with the label on the beer, rubbing the condensation around. “Makes things complicated.”

  She made a humming noise. “Well, I have no children of my own and I want you around more. If you truly do love being here, like your father says, and you’re bored with your job, then joining the business might not be such a bad idea. I know he’d like to see you more. He talks about you often.”

  “He does?”

  “Yes.”

  I didn’t know what to say.

  “I think you need to fix things with Peter,” she said, as if it were that easy.

  “I’ve been trying.”

  “He is a stubborn man, as most are. They always think they know best until we show them otherwise.” She smiled. “Try harder.”

  Chapter Three

  Nine Years Ago

  “What’s her name again?” I whispered, sipping on the straw of a monster-size slushie. One of the true benefits of going to the movies. Along with popcorn and air-conditioning, of course. Saturday had turned grossly hot, and all the ceiling fans at home could do was push around the hot air. Dad was at home, working on a quote for a job. When Pete called and suggested a film, I jumped at the chance. There’d been no mention, though, of him bringing someone. Not that I was jealous exactly, because that would be dumb.

  “Already told you her name twice, kid.”

  “Yeah, but she’s like the third one in as many weeks,” I said. “It gets confusing trying to remember them all.”

  He did a one-shoulder shrug. “I have a lot of friends.”

  “Sure. You’re a friendly guy.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “It’s been fifteen minutes,” I said. “What do you think she’s doing, full hair and makeup? A spray tan? What?”

  A faint smile curved Pete’s lips. “Shut up and watch the movie.”

  “I think the vampires freaked her out.”

  “Are you going to talk the whole way through?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Christ. You chose this one just to mess with me, didn’t you?” he asked, forehead all bunched up at the sight of Bella and Edward exchanging fervent, heated looks onscreen.

  “Should you really be letting a sixteen-year-old decide what movies you take your dates to, though?” I asked back, voice low. Though there weren’t many people in the cinema. The film had already been out for a few weeks. “I think that’s the real question here.”

  “It’s not a date. We’re just friends.”

  “What did you say her name was again?”

  “Shh. I’m trying to concentrate.”

  “Want me to tell you what happens next?” I asked. “I already read the books like a dozen times.”

  He just threw popcorn at me.

  “How rude.” I brushed it off my lap. “You know, I have a theory.”

  “And what might that be?”

  “That you’re basically using me as a chaperone.”

  He blinked. “I’m what?”

  “With these women,” I said, shaking my head because duh. “I mean, with me along, they can’t get all serious on you or anything. No chance for a ‘where are we headed, let’s discuss our commitment level’ type talk. You’re totally using me as a chaperone. It’s diabolical, really. I mean, you get the good-guy points for taking pity on me. But you also have a reason to keep your latest friend at a distance. Given the amount of friends and the rate at which you go through them, it makes sense. Admit it.”

  “I admit nothing.” He snorted. “Maybe I just like your company. I mean, you’re funny sometimes. You don’t completely suck.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Now you compliment me.”

  “Nah,” I said. “Pretty sure your ego is big enough as it is.”

  More popcorn flew my way.

  “For a thirty-one-year-old, you can be quite immature at times, Peter.”

  “For a sixteen-year-old, you can be quite a brat, Adele.”

  Then he smiled, easy as that. I couldn’t help but smile back.

  Unfortunately, his date returned at that point. We sat in silence, eyes on the screen. Movies weren’t nearly as much fun when Pete and I weren’t whispering crap at each other.

  Wednesday Night . . . Now

  Sleep just hadn’t come after that dinner. I’d lain awake for an hour or so, staring out into the dark, my mind racing in circles. Heat pressed down on me, my pillow damp from the sweat on the back of my neck. I could turn on the air-conditioning, but I’d kind of missed the weird little night noises and the scent of the frangipani outside.

  Eventually, I gave up and got up.

  There was enough ambient light for me not to need to turn a light on. I changed into my bathing suit, grabbed a towel, and made my way out onto the deck, then down the back stairs. Overhead hung an almost full moon, everything perfectly, peacefully quiet. Almost.

  “Shit!” I yelped at the sight of someone in the water. “I didn’t see you there.”

  “Assumed that,” he mumbled.

  My heart beat double time. Fear in general, or fear of him, I wasn’t sure. “Would you rather be alone or am I allowed to swim?”

  “You’re an adult. You’re allowed to do whatever the hell you want.”

  “And yet it’s your house,” I pointed out. “I’m just the unwelcome guest.”

  “You’re not unwelcome, exactly.”

  “Yeah . . . not convincing.”

  Great. I dumped my towel on a wooden bench and made my way over to test the water temperature with my toes. A little cool, but not cold. Butt on the edge, I eased myself into the pool. I quietly gasped when the water slid over my chest and up to my neck. Perky nipples, but never mind. What the bikini didn’t cover, the low lighting would. God, it felt good to evade the heat for a while.

  “You never would just jump,” he said
.

  “I like to know what I’m getting into.”

  He swam to the side, where a glass and a bottle of scotch waited. “Only got the one glass, but I’ll share if you want.”

  “Scotch tastes like ass.”

  A chuckle.

  “Is that really safe, swimming and drinking on your own?”

  “I know what I can handle,” said Pete. “And desperate times, desperate measures.”

  And I was welcome, my butt. People always make young love seem like this wonderful thing. Something to be treasured. But the truth is, it sucks. Because of that first love, you just might get to spend the rest of your life looking for that person in others . . .

  After Shanti’s reaction and Dad’s words, however, I was pretty much over the self-flagellation aspect of mine and Pete’s relationship. Same went for his bad-tempered bullshit and unwillingness to move on. I was done. Seriously. Full on. Done. “Oh, go fuck yourself.”

  “What did you say?”

  “You know, Pete, it was seven long years ago,” I said. Ranted. Whatever. “I behaved like a dumb kid and I’ve acknowledged that. I’ve apologized many, many times.”

  He wiped a hand over his wet face. “Did you actually just tell me to go fuck myself?”

  “This is ridiculous. If you really can’t make even a small attempt at forgiving, or at least pretending to forget, I’ll go sleep on Dad’s couch or something.” I turned, making for the stairs.

  “You can’t just wake up your dad and Shanti in the middle of the night.”

  “So I’ll sleep in my car.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Yes.” I climbed to the top of the pool steps, stopping to wring out the back of my hair. “Life is too short. And just for record, it’s not like I got out of that situation unscathed. I lost my best friend and got banished from a place I loved. Not exactly my idea of a good time.”

  “Kid, wait.” He stood at the bottom of the steps, still almost waist deep in water. And I could have done without an updated visual of how good he looked half-naked. The pecs and the flat stomach and the start of the vee of his hips leading into his board shorts. God help me, he even had a happy trail. My sex dreams of him were lurid enough without all the detail, thank you very much. You’d have thought after so long my imagination would have moved on to different fodder. But no such luck. Guess my imagination lacked imagination. It’s like my brain and vagina had gotten stuck way back when. He’d imprinted on me. It was beyond my control.

 

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