by Nina Lindsey
Grant scrolled through the itinerary, which included everything from a tour of the local mission to guided nature hikes and a whale-watching boat ride.
She’d planned for his parents to meet Mayor Bowers, eat at all the local restaurants, attend a Bliss Cove Theater production of South Pacific, take an en plein air painting class on the coast, spend an afternoon at the boardwalk, and participate in all the Harvest Festival events. She’d even scheduled “down time” if Joanna and Edward wanted to go back to the house and rest.
An emotion he couldn’t define nudged at Grant. It was warm and soft, like a fuzzy little puppy had just settled on his chest and tucked its head underneath his chin.
“This is great.” He handed the phone back to Rory, deflecting a stab of irritation that he couldn’t think of a better word. “Thanks for taking the time to do that.”
“I figure the more they’re enjoying themselves, the less time they’ll have to think about leaving early and catching a flight to Indonesia.” She rose and picked up another coffee cup from the counter. “I’m just on-call at Sugar Joy now, so I can show them around if you have to take a shift.”
“I worked it out so I can drop in when needed.” He stood, lifting his arms above his head for another stretch. His back muscles lengthened. “The other guys will cover the shifts and call me if they need me. I’d better keep a close eye on Mom and Dad all week.”
He headed to the bathroom for a quick shower. A fragrant mist coated the air, smelling like limes and other citrusy scents.
The shower contained matching bottles of shampoo and body wash. He’d never have pegged Rory as a woman who liked fancy personal-care products—he didn’t remember carting anything except bar soap out of her apartment—but maybe it was one of her “secrets.”
He wanted to know more of them. In fact, thinking about Rory and her secrets while he was soaping himself down brought up vivid fantasies that had sparked last night when he’d come back from work and found her sleeping.
Though he’d felt like a pervert, he hadn’t been able to stop himself from looking at her. With her hair spread over the pillow, one slender arm stretched to the other side of the bed, and her body moving in the steady rhythm of sleep, she’d been like one of those fairy-tale princesses that she probably hated.
But damn. She’d been wearing a peach-colored tank top that hugged the generous curves of her breasts and displayed her pale shoulders. Her skin was burnished by the moonlight.
He’d been struck with an intense urge to press his lips against her neck, tangle his fingers into the straps of her tank and ease them down over her breasts. She’d be soft all over, and based on her responsiveness to their kisses, she’d react like a firecracker to his touch. He could practically see her writhing underneath him.
Turning the shower water to cold, he stuck his head under the freezing spray and told himself to get a grip. Even though they’d been blindsided by his parents’ visit, Rory was being so damned good about it all that he felt even worse for his lustful thoughts.
Not that it had been easy to stay away from her over the past two years. He’d always been conscious of not dating women in Bliss Cove, especially the ones who frequented the Mousehole. It avoided complications if things went wrong, and even if they didn’t, he had no desire to become the target of local gossip.
The boundaries hadn’t prevented him from finding female company—he’d had his fair share of relationships, albeit short-term, and no-strings-attached affairs with women in neighboring towns or up in Santa Cruz.
God knew he’d enjoyed himself, and he’d liked the women a lot, but he’d never felt…this toward them. He’d never wondered what might have happened if they’d stayed together. He’d never wondered if he should rethink his “no commitment” stance.
If any woman could make him wonder that now, it was Rory. Which was so completely stupid because she was leaving Bliss Cove soon, and she wasn’t a woman he’d ever consider for a short-term relationship or a no-strings affair.
The realization felt like the earthquake tremor was pushing toward the fault line.
He got out of the shower and grabbed a towel. Better shove all those thoughts down deep and focus on getting through the next week. Ignoring the fact that it was increasingly easy to “pretend” like Rory was his girlfriend. His live-in lover.
A knock came at the bathroom door. “Your mom just texted that she and your father will be ready for breakfast at eight. She wants to go to the market later so she can get some food for your kitchen. She’s not very impressed with the stock in your fridge.”
“Are you still wondering why I don’t want a cell phone?” Grant hitched on his jeans and pulled a T-shirt over his head before opening the door. “Now that she has your number, there’s no escaping Joanna Taylor.”
“I actually find her impressive in a sort of Machiavellian way.” Rory shoved her phone into her back pocket. She slipped her gaze over him in that way she’d been doing since the first time they’d kissed. She hadn’t looked at him that way before then—at least, not that he’d noticed.
“I’m going to swing by Sugar Joy to make sure Linda’s doing okay on her first full week.” She started toward the door, her ponytail swinging. “I’ll meet you over at Ruby’s Kitchen at around eight-fifteen. Do you want me to call ahead and ask Ruby to save us that nice booth by the corner window?”
“That would be great, thanks. I’m going to get a few things done at the tavern, then we’ll head over.”
He went into the tavern kitchen to make sure everything was ready for the morning prep. The Mousehole opened at eleven, and he double-checked the schedule, completed some paperwork and orders, and did a quick inventory before going to get his parents.
“Good morning!” His mother answered the door, looking like a classic movie star in a Chanel suit and scarf. She reached out for a hug. “We slept marvelously. Must be the sea air. Edward, Grant is here! You’d better not be on your phone.”
“Morning.” Edward Taylor strode toward the foyer, straightening the cuffs of his shirt. “So begins the first day of our second honeymoon, eh? Is there a golf course nearby?”
“There’s mini-golf near the boardwalk,” Grant offered. “Hit the ball into the shark’s mouth on the last hole and win a fifty-percent discount on ride tickets.”
“That sounds like fun.” Joanna picked up a Prada bag and hooked it over her arm. “Where’s Rory?”
“She’s meeting us at the diner.”
“Lovely. I can’t remember the last time I ate at a diner. Can you, Edward?”
“The Sunny Side Up on Shattuck Avenue.” He slid his phone into the pocket of his suit jacket. “Maybe it wasn’t the last time, but I remember it.”
“Oh my goodness.” Joanna laughed and set her sunglasses on top of her head. “That was our favorite place to eat when we were in college, Grant. The Cal Berkeley students used to go there all the time because their pancakes were so cheap. And huge. They almost filled the entire plate, and they’d give you three of them.”
“And they had unlimited coffee refills,” Edward added. “It was an undergrad’s dream.”
“We should visit Skyline College while we’re here.” Joanna preceded Grant out the door to the car. “I haven’t been on a college campus in years.”
“Skyline has tours, so it can be arranged,” Grant said. “Rory’s sister is a professor in the Classics department.”
He winced when the statement came out. All he needed was to drag Rory’s family into this farce.
“I’d love to meet her.” Joanna paused while Edward opened the passenger side door of their car for her. “We’ll follow you to the diner, Grant. Your father and I will want the car if we decide to come back.”
Grateful for a short reprieve, Grant got into his truck and led the way to Ruby’s Kitchen. Rory was already there, having commandeered the booth by the corner window. The instant they sat down, one of the servers swooped in with fresh coffee.
“This
is Bliss Cove’s most popular breakfast place,” Rory informed his parents. “The eggs Benedict are the specialty, but the Belgian waffles are my personal favorite.”
“I usually have a soft-boiled egg and grapefruit for breakfast, but the waffle does sound delicious.” Joanna studied the menu. “Edward, remember the ER doctor told you to watch your cholesterol.”
Grant looked up. “When were you in the ER?”
“Your father had an incident a few months ago.” Joanna took a sip of coffee. “It turned out to be an angina attack.”
“It was nothing.” Edward set his menu aside with a frown.
“It was not nothing.” Joanna peered at him over the tops of her reading glasses. “Angina is a symptom of heart disease, and with your history of heart trouble, you need to take care of yourself.”
“Why didn’t anyone tell me Dad was in the ER?” Though he knew exactly why, he hated thinking that his family, even Nathan, would deliberately keep him out of the loop regarding a health emergency.
“I didn’t want to bother you, dear.” Joanna closed her menu.
“Telling me that Dad was in the ER isn’t bothering me.” Tension crawled through his shoulders. “You can dislike what I do and where I live all you want, but I’m still part of this family. Nathan didn’t even tell me.”
“We told him not to.” Joanna arranged the silverware neatly at her place. “Don’t be upset, Grant. There was nothing you could have done.”
“That’s not the point, Mom. When something serious happens, I want to know about it.”
“Why?” his father asked gruffly. “So you can come running home and be the hero?”
“Bliss Cove is home, but yes, I would have come to visit you.” Grant managed to keep his tone even. “But be the hero? How?”
“Maybe by making chicken soup.” Edward shrugged and sat back, eyeing him narrowly. “You don’t bother visiting when everything is fine, but you want to be kept informed when things go bad?”
“I don’t visit because you spend the whole time telling me what a shitty son I am for not doing what you want me to do,” Grant snapped. “You couldn’t even hold it together for Nathan’s wedding, could you? You had to let everyone know what a—”
He cut the words off as he felt the warning pressure of Rory’s hand on his thigh.
Edward’s face darkened with annoyance. “So you figure that visiting me in the hospital would change my mind?”
“Stop it.” Joanna threw her husband a fulminating look. “I will not have you two fighting, especially in public and in front of Rory. Both of you need to get it together and be civilized to each other, or I swear I will lock you in a room and not let you out until you’ve made peace. Now I would like to order and have a nice breakfast. I’m going to take Rory’s suggestion of a Belgian waffle, my diet be damned.”
Edward huffed, still staring Grant down beneath his heavy eyebrows.
“Either you’re part of this family through good and bad,” he said, his voice low, “or you’re not part of this family at all.”
“Edward!” Joanna grabbed her purse strap. “One more remark like that, and I’m walking out and not coming back.”
“Liz, can you come take our orders?” Rory waved frantically toward one of the servers. “We’re really hungry over here.”
Liz hurried over, and after they placed their orders, Rory switched the conversation to the history of the Mousehole, which used to be a stagecoach stop in the nineteenth century. Though Joanna made interested noises and acted as if the Belgian waffle were the most incredible thing she’d ever eaten, tension clouded the atmosphere. Edward didn’t speak, and Grant struggled to contribute to the conversation.
Finally, he pushed his half-eaten eggs aside and gestured to Liz for the check. Edward reached for his wallet.
“I’ve got it, Dad.”
“No need.” His father tossed a fifty on the table. “I’m not a charity case.”
“Speaking of charities,” Rory said quickly before Grant could respond. “Did you know Grant helped start a non-profit organization to bring healthier food and nutritional education into low-income schools?”
“Really?” Joanna looked at her son with pride. “Why, that’s wonderful, Grant.”
“It’s really made an impact on many of the rural communities,” Rory added.
“At Intellix, we work with many tech-related non-profits to help get computers and technology education into underserved communities.” Edward put his crumpled napkin on the table and stood. “We’re also working on legislation to bring fiber optic lines and broadband services to areas that have minimal connectivity. I noticed the signal at your house is weak, Grant. Maybe we should put Bliss Cove on our list.”
He strode toward the door. Joanna muttered something, grabbed her purse, and went after him. Grant pulled a breath into his tight lungs.
“Wow,” Rory murmured. “He’s like King Claudius. He was the asshole king, right?”
Grant let out a huff of amusement. “That would make me Hamlet, and both of those characters end up dead.”
“Okay, forget the Shakespeare references.” Rory glanced out the window to where Joanna was delivering another apparently scathing lecture to Edward. “I thought I liked him at first, but my opinion of him has nosedived considerably.”
“He gets that a lot, I’m sure.”
“Your mother is looking in our direction.” Rory edged closer to Grant. “But no one else is, and Liz is behind the counter making a pot of coffee. So for your mother’s benefit, I’m going to kiss your cheek and act like I’m being all consoling and sweet, okay?”
“Go for it.”
She pressed her soft lips to his cheek and tangled her fingers into the hair at his nape. His nose filled with her scent—limes and sugar, now with an added touch of maple syrup. Sweet, indeed. The length of her thigh pressed against his. Her breasts nudged his arm. He felt her long, silky hair on his neck. She was like a cool glass of water pouring over his blistering anger.
“How’m I doing?” She rubbed her lips across his jaw.
“So well that I’m about to get totally inappropriate for a family diner.” He slid his hand over her leg underneath the table and turned his head to kiss her. “Funny thing is, I don’t give a damn.”
Because having Rory at his side was turning out to be his saving grace.
“Let’s go.” She pinched the back of his neck and eased away. “Take the high road.”
He gave a derisive snort. “The high road is like the edge of a cliff. People fall off it.”
“Maybe, but at least they first get to enjoy the view.” She nudged him with her hip. “Come on. We have a whole day of Frick and Frack to deal with.”
After getting out of the booth, Grant turned to face her. “Look, I know this sucks. You don’t have to do this. Go back to the cottage or spend the day with your sisters or something. I’ll tell my parents you have to work.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Do you want me to leave you alone with them?”
He thumped his chest. “Me brave and strong. Me can go it alone.”
“I know you can, tough guy.” She narrowed her eyes. “I’m saying you don’t have to. At least if I’m around, it’s two against two. Though I’m beginning to think your mother is more on our side than she’s letting on.”
She pulled on her sweater and tugged her ponytail from the collar. “Besides, the only work I can do is getting up to date on the new projects for Digicore, but I don’t have my desktop available. So, instead, I can devote myself to enjoying your father’s charm.”
“I’d rather you enjoyed my charm.”
“You have charm?”
He kissed her again, hard and swift. The taste of her went straight to his blood. His heart ran around in circles. There might have been internal singing.
When he lifted his head, he hoped his mother hadn’t witnessed the kiss. It was one thing for her to see them pretending. It was another thing entirely for her to see something
real.
Chapter 12
The Rolling Stones’ “Wild Horses” blasted from Rory’s media player as she sat on the sofa in the cottage later that evening. She bit into another gummy worm and scrolled through the search results on her laptop, examining the details of the urban planning and development software she’d found.
Hunter, Aria’s significant other, had emailed her a list of what he was looking for to assist with the renovation of Mariposa Street. Rory had also contacted several friends and former colleagues for recommendations, though no one knew of a program that fit all of Hunter’s and the design studio’s requirements.
She set the laptop aside and rubbed her eyes. After the contentious breakfast with the Taylors this morning, the rest of the day had been thankfully conflict-free. It hadn’t been all rainbows and chipmunks—Edward had been mostly silent, and Joanna had tried hard to cover for his bad temper—but at least they’d seemed to enjoy touring downtown and the historic Spanish mission.
At four, Joanna had suggested they meet up again tomorrow morning, as she and Edward wanted to try out a Michelin-starred restaurant in Rainwood and do some things on their own. Neither Grant nor Rory had tried to change their minds.
Grant had gone to the Mousehole for the dinner rush, and Rory had returned to the cottage to see what she could find out about the software. Grant had brought her dinner—an astonishingly tender and delicious steak with roasted vegetables and rice pilaf—before going back to the tavern. Tempted as she was to go hang out at the bar and pester him, he’d been on edge all day and probably just wanted to focus on work.
A chill rippled through the air. Zipping up her hoodie the rest of the way, she put the kettle on the hot plate to boil water for a cup of instant coffee.
The Jacques Pepin and Julia Child cookbook that she’d borrowed from Grant was sitting on the counter. She leafed through the pages, struck by the detailed techniques required for everything from deboning a chicken to making sure a sauce didn’t “break.”