by Mara Wells
Danielle nodded, and he said, “I’ll wait for you at your locker.”
“You know where it is?” It wasn’t false modesty. She honestly thought Knox hadn’t known who she was before today.
“Of course I do.” He walked away from her, backward like he didn’t want to let her out of his sight. And he didn’t. Not for almost two years. They’d been that couple in high school, always together, always looking for a moment to sneak away and make out. She’d thought they’d be that way forever, but she’d been very, very wrong.
Now, Danielle sucked in a deep breath at the memories. Even the good ones hurt in their own way. Knox pulled away from her, inhaling deeply, then tipped his forehead against hers. They sat that way for a long moment, breath slowing, the scent of him filling her lungs. Earthy, a little salty, and so very Knox. It flooded her, the reality and the memory of him both at once.
“Look,” he whispered, directing her gaze to the eight ball in her lap. “The eight ball knew how much I needed to kiss you.”
The words Without a doubt floated in the square.
“Three for three.” Danielle twirled the ball until the words disappeared, trying to act like her whole world hadn’t just shifted on its axis. Playing it off like she kissed ex-boyfriends on the street every day.
“Ready for a break?” Eliza’s bright voice jolted them both.
Danielle was the first to her feet, brushing at the back of her jeans like maybe some of those sticky grass strands were giving her trouble.
Knox was slower to rise, favoring the braced leg, but he gallantly took the heavy tray with a pitcher of lemonade and three glasses on it from Eliza. “You bet. Decorating’s sweaty work.”
“Isn’t it, though? Looks like you found my sticky grass. Troublesome lot, aren’t they?” Eliza sat on the porch swing anchored to the right of her front door. She pushed off with a toe while Knox settled the tray on the bistro table in the far corner.
“Thought I’d never get them untangled.” Knox poured lemonade and offered it to Danielle.
She downed half the glass in one gulp. “We were just playing with the Magic Eight Ball. Can’t believe you still have that thing.”
“I saw you two…playing.” Eliza gave them both a wink. “I was planning to keep it. Plenty of room for a few knickknacks in my new condo. But I’m willing to part with it for the right price.”
“Name it.” Knox gave the next glass to Eliza and then knocked one back himself.
“You both come and help me stuff the plastic eggs with candy the day before Easter. I get quite a crowd, you know. Considering you might be the new owner by then, you bring the candy, and I’ll show you the ropes.”
“Sold.” Knox held out his hand to shake on it. “I like doing business with you, Eliza.”
Eliza shook his hand. “Likewise, young man, likewise.”
Danielle sipped her lemonade. Eliza loved preparing for her famous Easter egg hunt. She created a new costume every year, usually some version of a rabbit, although there had been a giant carrot one year and a chick popping out of a cracked egg, too. What was she up to, enlisting their help?
Watching Knox relax on the porch, trading quips with Eliza, while remembering the butterfly touch of his lips on hers, Danielle didn’t care. Any excuse to see Knox again was good enough for her.
Chapter 9
Puffs of clouds drifted lazily by, and Knox let out a long breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding. In the Marines, time on the water was not leisurely. It was training for life-and-death situations or an actual life-and-death situation. Kicking back in a low-slung deck chair, nursing a cold longneck, was as foreign to him as attending an opera. But he could get used to it.
He could get used to the brisk air brushing the scalp of his freshly shorn hair, the gleam of the teak deck in the sun, the roll of the small yacht as it motored out to sea. Even the company wasn’t half-bad. Lance, Caleb, Grandpa William and his dog, Pops, and for reasons he wasn’t completely clear about, Mr. Cardoza, one of the long-time residents of the Dorothy who had appointed himself the unofficial consultant on all the changes at the Dorothy. He also seemed to be on good terms with both Caleb and Grandpa William.
“Another one?” Lance asked, one hand in the cooler, the other with three beers hanging from between his fingers like some kind of beer-juggling genius. He handed the short, fat bottle to Caleb, who loved his weird Belgium ale like their grandfather loved his scotch.
Grandpa William stood at the wheel. Not that he was driving. No, he had a sophisticated navigation system doing that for him. He rested his short glass of the aforementioned scotch on the wheel and stared out over the horizon, looking for all the world like a commercial for men’s cologne for the senior set, complete with noble greyhound lounging at his feet. Or on his feet. Pops was all about close contact.
Knox took the second beer out of Lance’s outstretched hand and twisted off the top. He’d always been more of a pop-top guy, but his brothers had their own tastes and Knox wasn’t one to complain. Cold beer was cold beer as far as he was concerned. He drained this one as quickly as the first, leaned back his head, and listened to his brothers talk about Caleb’s upcoming wedding and when Grandpa William would be setting the date for his own wedding to his ex-first-wife and current girlfriend, who also happened to be Caleb’s soon-to-be grandmother-in-law. So much drama, Knox thought, though it wasn’t lost on him that between Grandpa William’s and Lance’s remarriages to exes, his current obsession with Danielle was apparently a manifestation of the Donovans’ inability to let go.
“You are a lucky man.” Mr. Cardoza wobbled to the deck bar to pour himself a half glass of red wine. Then he bent down to the mini fridge and pulled out a can of San Pellegrino Limonata. The top opened with a hiss, and he filled up the rest of the glass with soda. Knox’s service had taken him to Thailand and Japan, and he thought he’d seen some unusual drinks there, but he’d never seen anyone pour soda into wine before.
Since it was unclear who the lucky man was, the three Donovans were forced to wait for Mr. Cardoza to taste his concoction. Apparently, it met with his satisfaction, because he raised it in a toast. “To William and the return of his first love.”
Caleb, Lance, and Grandpa William raised their drinks, but Knox was left the odd man out. Mr. Cardoza noticed his empty bottle. “You want me to make a tinto de verano for you?”
“Uh.” Knox searched his beer bottle for even a drop he could use for the toast. “No, thank you.”
“It is very refreshing. In Spain, we drink it in the summer, but here, I can drink it year round. I am a happy man.” He ignored Knox’s polite refusal and poured a second glass, holding it up for Knox to fetch himself.
“Thank you?” Knox took the cue and hauled himself out of the low-slung chair and over to Mr. Cardoza. Near the bar, a canopy stretched overhead, providing shade and a slight drop in temperature. Knox sniffed the drink first. He’d never been a huge fan of wine. The carbonated fizz tickled his nostrils. He took a sip.
“Well?” Mr. Cardoza leaned a hip against the bar’s low counter. “You are refreshed?”
Knox swallowed, pleasantly surprised by the mix of flavors. “I am.” He raised his glass.
“Very good.” Mr. Cardoza raised his glass again. “The toast, then, for William and the return of love lost.”
Caleb raised his glass high. “Let’s not forget Lance’s recent marriage to his first wife.”
“Hey.” Lance clicked his bottle against Caleb’s. “I only had the one wife. It’s not as dramatic as Grandpa William’s and Grams’ story.”
“Only because you haven’t lived as long.” Caleb smirked at his brother.
“Besides.” Lance pointedly ignored the smirk. “This is Caleb’s bachelor party. We should be toasting him.”
“We will.” Mr. Cardoza clinked his glass against Knox’s. “First, though, to the
lost loves who came back. I got an email.” Mr. Cardoza’s jaw clicked shut like he hadn’t meant to say that last bit.
“An email from who?” Grandpa William gave up on holding his scotch high and sipped at the rim.
“My daughter.” Mr. Cardoza gulped his fizzy drink. “She says Isabella is moving to Miami. She gave her the Dorothy information. Caleb, you will sell her one of the new units? The best unit?”
“Sure, Mr. Cardoza. Any friend of yours is welcome. What’s her last name? I’ll keep an eye out for any communications from her.”
“Isabella Arcia.” Mr. Cardoza’s voice softened on the syllables. “No, her married name is Lucero.” The wrinkles in Mr. Cardoza’s forehead grew deeper. “My daughter says she is a widow now. She has been a Lucero for over thirty-five years, but in my heart, she is still Isabella Arcia. That is how I knew her.”
“Ah.” Grandpa William tipped his scotch glass toward Mr. Cardoza. “Your first love?”
Mr. Cardoza nodded, downing the rest of his tinto de verano in a few short swallows.
“I’ll look out for her,” Caleb promised, crossing to the cooler for another of his Belgian ales.
“You.” Mr. Cardoza pointed at Caleb. “Learn a lesson from all these men. Don’t let go of your Riley. No matter what.”
“Don’t worry.” Caleb apparently had second thoughts about another drink and let the ale slip back into its bed of ice. “I’m never letting go.”
The older men chuckled at his vehemence, but Knox stared overhead, silent. The awning undulated in the breeze, even though the navigation system had steered them to a stop just off one of the barrier islands. They could see land, but it would be a long, hard swim to get there on their own.
Lance came up beside him. “Pretty mushy stuff for a bachelor party, huh?” He nudged Knox’s shoulder with his own.
But Knox was feeling mushy, so he didn’t respond to Lance’s attempts to talk about how the Heat were doing this season. Knox glared at the nearly empty glass in his hand. Perhaps the tinto de verano had a secret punch to it. He couldn’t stop thinking about how he should’ve been more like Caleb and less like the rest of the Donovans. It seemed that even though he’d left his family and crossed the world several times over to change himself, back home, he was just another Donovan, disappointed by love.
Grandpa William and Lance gave him hope, though. Maybe he could earn a second chance with Danielle. She certainly didn’t mind his kisses. His body stirred at the memory, so he walked to the railing. No need for his brothers to see the physical evidence of where his mind wandered on this sunny day.
“In my time,” Grandpa William was saying from his position at the wheel, “a bachelor party meant strip clubs and lap dances. I can’t believe this is all you’ve planned. What kind of best men are you?”
“The kind who did what I asked.” Caleb defended his brothers. Knox liked the sound of it. He’d never spent much time around Caleb before he’d left for the Marines. What he mostly remembered was how quiet Caleb had been at the few family gatherings they’d both attended, like he was afraid to call attention to himself. Standing at the prow now, his hair windswept, his tanned bare feet planted on the deck, he looked like a confident king of the sea. He didn’t need the wheel as a prop to look like he was in charge. He naturally took over wherever he went. It would annoy Knox more if he’d wanted to be in charge. Luckily, he didn’t.
Grandpa William snorted. “Well, boys, when it’s my turn, I want strippers. In the plural. You got that?”
“Like Grams will allow it.” Caleb sounded like he was joking, but he definitely wasn’t. His soon-to-be grandmother-in-law was a force of nature, and neither Caleb nor Grandpa William wanted to be on her bad side. She’d always been nice enough to Knox, so he didn’t get why they seemed so afraid of her. If she were Caleb’s grandmother-in-law, what did that make her to Knox? It made his head hurt to puzzle it out, so he decided the word family covered all the bases.
“Did you bring the snorkel gear?” Caleb turned his back on the railing and leaned against it, the sun behind his head like a halo.
“Of course.” Lance used his glass to point at the gear bag on the deck. “Let me know when you want to go in.”
“Now is good.” Caleb crossed to the bag and rifled through it, pulling out flippers, mask, and snorkel. “There’s an artificial reef not too far from here.”
The yacht pitched, and Caleb tossed snorkel gear to Lance and Knox. “Grandpa William? Mr. Cardoza?”
“Not me.” Grandpa William raised his scotch in a toast. “I’ll man the decks.”
“I’ll man the William.” Mr. Cardoza grabbed another San Pellegrino from the fridge.
Knox didn’t like the idea of Grandpa William and Mr. Cardoza alone and likely drunk on a ship, especially when that ship was their only ride home. “I’ll man the grandpa and the Spaniard.”
Caleb laughed. “Have it your way. Lance, you ready?”
Lance gave a thumbs-up, and the two splashed into the ocean.
“Scotch?” Grandpa William offered, descending the two stairs to the outdoor bar, Pops padding along behind him.
“Sure.” Knox set his glass on the counter by the sink and took the tumbler Grandpa William poured for him. Perhaps the scotch would counteract the mushiness inspired by the tinto de verano. Lord knew Grandpa William wasn’t known for his gentler emotions. They knocked glasses in a silent toast, and Grandpa William gestured him to sit in the banquette across from the bar. Mr. Cardoza finished pouring his third drink of the afternoon and sat beside Knox.
“Hear you and Dr. Morrow’s girl have been seeing each other again.” Grandpa William’s blue eyes gleamed in a way that Knox suspected meant trouble.
“I wouldn’t say ‘seeing each other.’”
“Would you say ‘sucking face’? Because apparently you put on quite a show for the Dorothy. Patty told us you made out for, like, an hour.”
“Yes, she called me over to her place to watch you put out Eliza’s decorations last week.” Mr. Cardoza huffed in amusement. “We got more of an eyeful than we bargained for.”
“It was only a minute. Or two.” Knox shifted, for all the world feeling like a recruit being called to the deck. He expected Grandpa William to yell at him to drop and give him fifty at any moment.
“Some minute.” Grandpa William whistled. “She’s a pretty girl.”
Knox couldn’t argue with such an objective truth. He nodded, sipping the scotch, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Heard you broke her heart. Back in high school.” Mr. Cardoza was the shoe dropper. He said the words kindly, but they still pricked along Knox’s skin like tiny needles.
Knox choked on an ice cube. “I didn’t mean to. I was trying to do what was best.”
“Noble, huh?” Grandpa William tsked. “Sounds like you.”
Normally, if someone called him noble, Knox would take it as a compliment, but Grandpa William managed to make it sound like an insult. Knox reined in the automatic anger.
“What’re you going to do now?” Grandpa William swirled the ice cubes in his glass, eyeing Knox over the rim. “You got a plan? Or you’re just mucking around with her feelings again?”
“Because that would not be nice. Everyone likes Danielle very much.” Mr. Cardoza held his glass away from Pops’ nosy inspection. The greyhound sniffed, then settled back down, draping himself across the tops of Grandpa William’s feet.
“I’m not mucking around.” Knox knew that much at least. But a plan? He didn’t really have one. It was why a whole week had gone by, and all he’d done was respond to her texted pictures of Sarge with smiley faces.
“Then what are you doing?” Both Grandpa William and Pops looked at him with questions in their eyes, heads cocked to one side. Knox imagined Pops’ question was more like, “When will you give me a treat?” which was a much easier an
swer to come up with than trying to answer Grandpa William’s question, one he’d asked himself at least a hundred times since kissing Danielle. A question he still couldn’t answer.
Knox and Grandpa William both sipped their scotch, staring into the empty space between them. Mr. Cardoza delighted Pops by producing a dog biscuit from his trouser pocket.
Pops was munching on his third treat before Knox finally admitted the truth. “I don’t know.”
“Better figure it out.” Grandpa William poured himself another finger from the bottle. “She’s not a girl anymore. You piss off a woman, you pay for that shit the rest of your life.”
“You’d know.” Knox grinned, feeling the loosening of his tongue that came with the right amount of alcohol.
“You bet I do.” Grandpa William pointed a finger at him. “Don’t be stupid this time around. Put a ring on her finger as soon as you can. You’ll be happier for it.”
“M-m-marriage?” Knox sputtered, spewing scotch onto the blue-and-white-striped cushions of the banquette. “We’re not talking marriage yet. We kissed. Once.” Okay, it was twice, maybe three times—it wasn’t like he’d been counting how many times their lips parted and came back together again—but that information was private.
Mr. Cardoza shook his head. “Young people today. Where do you think it’s going with a girl like that?”
“A girl like that needs a secure future. What am I even doing with my life?” The right amount of alcohol was apparently dangerous if a man wanted to keep secrets. “Once the Dorothy is done, then what?”
“You buy another building. You do it again.” Grandpa William thumped his drink, and the ice cubes rattled against the glass. “That’s how you rebuild the family business.”
“I never wanted to be part of the family business.”
Grandpa William narrowed his eyes. “Why’d you come back then? Nowhere else to go now that the Marines won’t have you?”
