Crazy for You

by Susan May Warren

  “You sure about that?”

  The tease in his eyes exposed her as a liar. She laughed as she grabbed her brand-new purse—another purchase Megan and Ella had insisted on—and they headed down the stairs and to his truck. “So are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

  “It’s a surprise.” He opened the door for her and kissed her cheek before she settled into the cab.

  Okay then. So far, she liked surprises.

  “Where’s Tiago?” Peter started the engine.

  “He’s staying with Josh tonight.”

  “Is he doing okay since the sprinkler episode?”

  “Not really, but at least Vivien is keeping the play going.”

  “Yeah, she already has me on call to help install new seats when the replacements arrive.” Peter drove downhill and turned onto Highway 61.

  Was he taking her out to an early dinner? She was kind of hoping for a more intimate setting, a place where she could have him to herself and not have all the Deep Haven old-timers watching their every move. But they would’ve stayed on the highway if he were taking her out of town. Instead, he turned after only a couple blocks.

  “We’re here.” Peter parked in front of a rundown three-story hotel that perched on the edge of the shore overlooking Lake Superior. Some of the windows were boarded up. Graffiti marked the walls. Weeds choked the scraggly landscaping and reached the first story windowsills. He ran around to her side of the truck and opened the door for her. “I want to show you a piece of Deep Haven history. Welcome to the Westerman.”

  Not that she was an expert in romance by any means, but a dilapidated hotel leaning up against the eastern shore of the bay didn’t exactly seem like a first date kind of place. “Are you sure it’s…safe?” And had she totally misread him? Maybe this wasn’t a date. Maybe it was a work thing. Either way, her spirits sank.

  “Structurally, it’s sound, but let’s just say I’ll be glad when it’s all renovated and the fire safety systems are in place. One spark and this place could go up in flames.”

  Okay, so not a date at all. A work project. She’d gotten all dolled up for nothing. Wow, had she read that wrong.

  He unlocked the chain across the front doors and led her inside. “This main entrance to the building is a hundred years old. The original Westerman Hotel was built even earlier, 1901, but it burned down. In fact, most of this downtown area burned at one point or another.”

  Ronnie tried to shake off the disappointment and adjust back to work mode. “Deep Haven has tragedies? I thought it was always fairy-tale happy endings.”

  “Nope. For instance—” He cleared his throat and did a snooty tour guide accent. “Otto and Maria Westerman moved from Illinois to Deep Haven with their two daughters, Elise and Greta, in the late 1800s. They built their hotel here, right down shore from the Eversons, who ran a big boarding house.”

  She laughed at his silly accent even though it took more effort than usual. “Let me guess, the two families were business rivals?”

  “You guessed correctly. But the animosity went even further. Otto and Maria were rich, and rumor was they had ties to the Chicago mafia. The Eversons, like many of the other townspeople, didn’t trust them. But it didn’t stop Caleb Everson from falling in love and marrying Elise Westerman.”

  “Ah, Romeo and Juliet, Deep Haven version.” A story with a tragic ending.

  A lot like this so-called date.

  She probably shouldn’t have bothered with the cute black wedges she’d just bought as she stepped over piles of old brochures spilled out on the floor and around the random mattress in the middle of what used to be a lobby.

  “Yup. Both families shunned the couple. But blood ties were still strong. When Caleb’s brother died suspiciously, he blamed the Westermans and their mafia connections. He vowed revenge and planned to burn down their hotel. But his wife discovered his plan and went to warn her parents. She was in the building when Caleb started the fire. She died.”

  Ronnie looked up from the staircase she leaned against as she plucked a stray newspaper stuck to the bottom of her shoe. “No!”

  Peter nodded. “Not only did Caleb lose Elise, the Everson boarding house and three other businesses caught fire and burned to the ground. The Eversons were never able to recover.”

  “Wow, that is tragic. What happened to the Westermans?”

  “They survived. And they had the money to rebuild. Their other daughter, Greta, married Walter Zimmerman and they took over the family business, bought up another hotel, and that’s how the Zimmermans got started in the hospitality business.”

  “Then why don’t the Zimmermans own this place anymore?”

  “Well, we don’t talk about it much, but my great-great-uncle Stephen who managed this hotel in the ’60s had a gambling problem. Got so bad the family sold this property to pay off his debts. The hotel passed hands a few different times, but by the late ’90s it went bankrupt and has been sitting here ever since.”

  “Why didn’t the Zimmermans buy it then?”

  “I think my great-grandpa was still embarrassed about losing it. Not to mention a huge permit cost for an environmental impact study because the property includes shoreline. We’re talking a hundred grand for that one permit. But once Adrian Vassos came talking about rebuilding—and conveniently paid for that testing—all of a sudden, the Zimmermans wanted to stake their claim and the Dahlquists didn’t want some outsider taking the prime location. But both families did allow the Vassos corporation to sort through all the expensive legal tangle to free it up. Adrian released the permit to the city when he decided not to buy.”

  Ronnie moved to the next room. The high ceilings and what was once probably a glossy wooden floor gave the room a lot of potential, even though at the moment the long wall was lined with stacks of broken chairs and tables.

  If they cleaned out all the junk in here, there was a lot of usable space. A vision started forming, one of Tiago and Josh dribbling a basketball down the length of the room.

  “You know, this big ballroom would make a great gym. We could add a little snack bar or concession stand over there in that alcove.”

  “Vivien wants a theater too, but I’m not sure.”

  “Why not? We could fit it in that other wing off the lobby. There’s plenty of space.”

  Peter moved closer to her. “What about an arcade?”

  She walked down the hall and skirted around overturned tables in what might’ve been a breakfast room. There were no windows, but they could add some cool black lights and neon signs to give an arcade feel to the room. “I think we should put it here.”

  Peter didn’t follow. Just stood in the doorway and watched her.

  She fought the urge to squirm. “What?”

  “You said it again.” He stepped into the room.

  “Said what?”

  He came closer, slipped one of his strong arms around her. His other hand traced her jaw.

  Now this was starting to feel more like a date.

  “You said ‘we.’”

  She had? She was having trouble recalling anything she’d said in the last ten minutes.

  “And I have to admit, I like the sound of it.” The green in his eyes drew her in like a warm spring day after the bitter winter. More evidence that, like it or not, she was already invested. But if one little word was all it took to show him she really was on his side, then… “We should really—”

  He lowered his mouth and kissed her. And she forgot everything she was going to say, especially when he pulled her closer. Her hands slid over his shoulders and around his neck and she lost herself in his woodsy scent and the taste of cinnamon.

  Yes, most definitely a date.

  He finally moved away and rested his forehead on hers. “So does ‘we’ mean you’re gonna help me?”

  “Yeah.” And it wasn’t as hard as she thought to add, “We’re a team.”

  “You really like this idea?”

  “Peter, you’re right. This t
own has plenty of hotels and restaurants. It needs a youth center. A place kids can hang out, maybe even learn skills. We could use that small kitchen to teach cooking classes. There’s so much potential right here.”

  He sighed. “It’s gonna be a battle.”

  “Your family?”

  “Neither side is going to like it.”

  “Why does that matter so much?”

  He let out a long breath. “Let’s just say I don’t want a repeat of my graduation party.”

  “What happened?”

  He let her go and moved away, then picked up a broken lamp and set it on a table. “During my senior year, there were a few times my work schedule at the restaurant conflicted with the Zimmerman resort. It was causing problems, so my mom tried to talk me into doing two parties. But I didn’t want my parents to go through all that expense and work twice, and I was kind of excited to have all the people I care most about in one place. I thought they could put away the rivalry and arguments for a day.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “But it was tense from the start. Mom and I ran back and forth with the Zimmermans. Dad kept the Dahlquist side happy. But at one point my Grandpa Zimmerman made a big show of giving me my present. He wanted me to open it up in front of everyone.”

  “What was it?”

  “A plaque that read Peter Zimmerman, Moose Ridge Resort Assistant Manager. Said I was going to train under my Uncle Charlie while I was in college and then take over once I got my degree.”

  “He didn’t even put the right last name on it?”

  “Nope. Said now that I was an adult, I should legally change it back to my real name. Dad went ballistic. Apparently, he was planning on me taking a management position in his restaurant after college. He and Grandpa got into a shoving match. It wasn’t pretty, and practically everyone in town was there to see it. It spiraled out from there, and food got involved…”

  “So they both thought you would work for them? Didn’t they bother asking you?”

  Peter shrugged. “No. I worked at all the resorts, filled in at all the restaurants whenever they needed people. I was going to study business at the University of Minnesota Duluth. Everyone assumed I would work for their business. Part of it is my fault, I guess. I always wanted to learn how to do a good job whatever I did. I think they saw that interest and mistook it for something more.”

  Yeah, that sounded like typical Peter, always striving to do the right thing.

  He kicked at a pile of old magazines. “Do you know what it’s like to have these two men I’ve looked up to all my life at each other’s throats? They’ve never been able to speak civilly to each other since then. And it was my fault. I made a choice…and everyone suffered for it.”

  Oh, Peter. “Which is why you haven’t been able to vote.”

  “Yeah.”

  She nodded. “Well, no wonder you feel stuck. But, Peter, you do know that the fight at your graduation party was not your fault, right?”

  “Whose fault would it be? I was the one who chose to bring everyone together—”

  “But that’s what you do, Peter. And you’re good at it. You bring people together. You help us to see potential in others and try to help people get along. But they were so busy thinking about what they wanted, they didn’t even bother to ask what you wanted! That’s what caused the fight. Not your choice. Besides, lots of other people believe in the youth center idea. You’ve got some of your family on board already, right? Vivien and Ree?”

  “And Nick. He’ll always back me up. I just hate the thought of disappointing everyone else. Causing more fighting.”

  “Peter, if they weren’t so full of themselves, they could see that all you ever wanted is what is best for Deep Haven. If they can’t see that, they’re idiots.”

  “Maybe. But they’re still my family.”

  And she, better than anyone, understood the pull of family. “True. But there are others who care about you too.”

  He touched her face, running his thumb down her cheek. “Others? Others…like you?”

  He was so unaware of how rare a man he was. Strong, but the kind of man who used that strength to serve others. The kind of man who sacrificed his wants for somebody else. The kind of man who reached out to her brother and who made her feel like part of something good.

  He made her feel like she belonged.

  “Yes, like me. I said ‘we,’ remember?”

  He slid his hand around her neck. “Would you like to meet my family? I mean, after that history, I wouldn’t blame you if you said no, but…”

  “I have met your family—Uncle Charlie, Elton Zimmerman, Ben—”

  “No. Those are the troublemakers. I’m talking my Grandma Zee and my father. My mother.”

  Oh. He wanted her to meet his family. That was a big deal, right?

  “We could start small. Go to the Fourth of July fish fry at my folks’ house next week. Just my immediate family, but something low-key to get to know everyone.”

  She pushed past the unease in her belly. If he was willing to go out on a limb, so would she. “I’d love to meet them.”

  “We could watch the town fireworks afterward from the breakwater.” He leaned in, his mouth near her ear. “Maybe set off some of our own.”

  She laughed and stepped back. He waggled his eyebrows.

  “You dork. You’ve never had a girlfriend, have you? Especially if this is what you plan for a first date.”

  “For the record, this is not the date. I have a gourmet dinner and a projector set up in my backyard. Thought we could watch West Side Story since neither of us has seen it.” He pulled her to himself. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

  “Whoever said you don’t know what you want never saw you like this.”

  “Oh, honey. I know exactly what I want.” And then he kissed her.

  Best. Date. Ever.

  Chapter 13

  Peter wasn’t sure which he was more nervous about as he took the kitchen trash out for his mom—Ronnie meeting his family or telling them that he had cast his vote for the youth center tonight. He needed to get it over with before they heard from someone else.

  Hopefully having Ronnie by his side would make it a little easier.

  Then again, it might not put her in the best light for his parents. He dropped the lid down on the garbage can.

  He should’ve thought this out better.

  Because, really, what was he thinking dragging Ronnie into family drama this early in their relationship?

  But when he’d held her in his arms and she’d said things that had made him believe he was doing the right thing, that he could weather the disapproval of the two clans he cared about, for some crazy reason, he’d wanted her to be a part of it.

  He wanted her involved in his life, even the hard parts.

  And, yeah, he hoped that she and Tiago would feel welcome here, like they belonged. Because the thought of them leaving gutted him.

  So probably better to just focus on Ronnie and Tiago coming to meet the fam, making sure these two parts of his world meshed. He could tell his parents about the vote tomorrow. And hopefully by the end of the night, they would be as crazy about Ronnie and Tiago as he was.

  Armed with a plan, Peter walked back to the kitchen and was met with the yeasty scent of freshly baked bread. The white quartz countertops were spotless as always even in the middle of his mother’s efforts to finish her last batch of dinner rolls.

  “Thanks, dear. I don’t know why it’s so hard for your brothers to keep up with the garbage. It’s not like I ask a lot of them.” Mom shook her head and rolled the last bit of her dough into a ball. “So back to you… this is the woman who saved Gust, right?”

  “Yeah, Mom. Ronnie.”

  “She’s the paramedic. The one your uncle Charlie was worried about? Didn’t she get kicked out of the Java Cup?”

  “News travels fast,” he said under his breath as he brought his glass to the fridge ice dispenser.

  “Don’t mumbl
e, dear. And besides, can I help it if Brenda Baker happened to be sitting there with her book club and saw the whole thing? She called Deb who told your aunt Connie who was worried about you and wanted me to know.”

  “Then you should know it was all a big misunderstanding.”

  The quirk of her eyebrow as she brushed the rolls with butter said she wasn’t convinced.

  Peter paused with the ice maker. “Mom, give her a chance.”

  “Oh, Peter, you know I will. If she’s important to you, I’ll give her every benefit of the doubt. At least I can’t fault her taste in men.” She patted his cheek and moved past him to put her homemade rolls in the oven. “I just hope she’s good enough to deserve you.”

  Yup. He should’ve just met Ronnie in town for fireworks and skipped this whole fish-fry-meet-my-family business. He started up the ice dispenser again. Cubes clattered onto the tile floor just as the doorbell rang.

  Too late now.

  It figured she’d be early. He left his glass in the kitchen and rushed to open the front door. Ronnie stood there, Tiago by her side holding Blue. The sight of her swept away his mother’s words. Her chin was lifted high and her smile looked confident and sure. She even wore a dress—a dress that showed off her slim shoulders and tan arms and made it hard to keep his head on straight.

  She could totally win over his parents. What was he worried about?

  “Hey, come in. Glad you guys could make it.”

  “Like I had a choice.” Tiago stepped into the entry.

  “Shush!” Ronnie elbowed him then hissed in his ear, “This is a big deal. Remember.”

  Okay, so maybe she wasn’t as confident as he’d thought.

  Ronnie held a covered pan. “I made brownies.”

  “Brownies? No Cheetos?” Peter bent over to kiss her cheek.

  “Yeah, I watched her bake. You’re gonna wish she brought Cheetos,” Tiago said.

  Peter steered them to the kitchen where Mom pulled a pitcher of iced tea out of the fridge and set it on the counter. Carrying an empty tray, Dad walked in from the porch wearing his Hands Off My Buns apron.

  Mom really needed to stop buying him aprons.