Whisper of Love (The Bradens at Peaceful Harbor, Book Five)

by Melissa Foster

  When the song ended, Tempest let out one of the happy sighs he loved to hear. He set Phillip on the ground and held his hand.

  “Tempe!” a tall, dark-haired man hollered across the lawn as he approached, holding the hand of a petite brunette.

  Tempest waved. “That’s my brother Sam and his fiancée, Faith.”

  Nash stood up a little taller with the prideful feeling of wanting to measure up, and held Phillip’s hand a little tighter.

  Sam and Faith hugged Tempe, and Sam held a hand out to Nash. “Hi, I’m Sam, and this is my fiancée, Faith.”

  “Great to meet you both.”

  Sam crouched beside Phillip and offered a hand to him, too, which instantly endeared him to Nash. “You must be Phillip. It’s nice to meet you.”

  Phillip looked up at Nash. They’d explained to Phillip on the way over that he was going to meet a few members of Tempest’s family, and she had told him a little about each one and how nice they were. She always knew just what to say to put him at ease, but this was a big step for his little man.

  “It’s okay, buddy,” Nash said. “This is Tempe’s brother, Sam, and his girlfriend, Faith. Say hi.” He didn’t think Phillip knew what a fiancée was, and there was no need to confuse the situation.

  “Hi,” he said shyly, and put his hand in Sam’s and shook it as Nash had.

  “He is too cute.” Faith bent down and said in a conspiratorial whisper, “Were you and Tempe hiding out by the candy corn? She loves that stuff.”

  Phillip nodded with a wide grin, and they all laughed.

  “We’re glad you could make it,” Sam said. “Have you seen Mom and Dad yet?”

  “No. I didn’t want to make them meet everyone at once,” Tempe said.

  “There are a lot of Bradens,” Faith teased. “But don’t worry, Nash. From what I hear, you handled Nick, Jax, and Jilly just fine.”

  Nash arched a brow, wondering who had told her that.

  “Braden grapevine,” Tempest explained. “I told you it was over the top. How about we hit the arts and crafts and not embarrass them?”

  Nash’s phone vibrated. He took the phone from his pocket and saw Larry’s name on the screen. He had ditched his calls for long enough. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’d better take this. It’ll be quick.” He answered the call as they walked toward the arts and crafts booth. As hard as it was to turn Larry down once and for all, Nash cut straight to the chase, leaving no room for discussion. Larry understood, and Nash told him maybe in a few years, when Phillip was older, they could work something out.

  After the call Tempest said, “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I would have watched Phillip so you could get the pieces done,” she said. “I hate to see you turn your back on such a good opportunity.”

  He put his phone in his pocket, struggling with the finality of what he’d just done. “I appreciate the offer, but you’re not a babysitter, and I can’t travel for a weekend gallery opening and expect him”—he motioned toward Phillip—“to do well on the road, in hotels, or at the opening. He’s what matters right now. Maybe someday I’ll reconnect with Larry, but not yet.”

  “Have you given any more thought to doing a piece for Hattie?” she asked. “Then you wouldn’t have to travel.”

  “Maybe. We’ll see how his observation day goes at preschool this week. Thanks for your encouragement. It means a lot to me.”

  “I saw a few of your pieces online,” Sam said. “When you get back in the swing of things, we’d really like one.”

  He didn’t know if Sam was just being nice, or really wanted to own a piece of his artwork, but either way, it felt great to hear it. “You’re Tempe’s family. You don’t have to buy anything. Just let me know what you want, and if preschool works out for Phillip, I’ll try to get it done.”

  “Oh, we want one,” Faith assured him. “But not at the expense of putting off work you can do for a gallery. That’s huge.”

  With the support of Tempe and her family, doing work for a gallery was beginning to feel more and more like a real possibility.

  Phillip pointed at a table in the arts and crafts booth where children were coloring pictures of pumpkins.

  “Ooh! Pumpkins!” Tempest said. “Want to color one with me?”

  Phillip nodded, and when Nash pulled out a chair for him to sit on, he climbed onto Tempest’s lap instead. The grin that brought to Tempest’s lips was priceless. Nash sat beside them and couldn’t resist taking a picture with his phone.

  Phillip reached for a fat orange crayon and began coloring.

  “Let me take one of the three of you,” Faith offered.

  He leaned in close and draped his arm around Tempest as Faith took the picture.

  “I want a copy,” Tempest said.

  “Me too,” Faith chimed in.

  Nash texted the picture to Tempest with the message, The first woman to steal my son’s heart. Faith gave him her number and he texted her the picture, too. He was glad she wanted it. It made him feel like he was part of their tight-knit group.

  “Hey,” Sam said. “Do you have plans for later, when Tempe goes to see her client?”

  “Not really,” he answered. “I figured we’d knock around on the beach or something.”

  “Mom and Dad don’t know it yet, but we’re all hanging out at their house tonight. It’s on the beach, so you don’t really have to change your plans to come with us. Tempe can join us after she’s done.”

  Tempest smiled up at him with a hopeful gaze. He wanted to be included more than he’d realized, but he knew Phillip would be exhausted, and he didn’t want to deal with a meltdown the first time he got together with her family.

  “Thanks, but it will have been a long day for my little guy, and he may get overtired. I don’t want to hinder your plans with a cranky boy.”

  “Please don’t let that keep you from joining us.” Faith took Sam’s hand, gazing at Phillip like he was the cutest kid on the planet. “We all love kids, and Jewel, Nate’s wife, practically raised her younger siblings. If he gets cranky, we can help. That’s what family’s for.”

  A wave of longing for his family swept through him. He cleared his throat, trying to push away the sudden desire to see his mother. Were all of Tempest’s family members this openhearted? Would the rest of them welcome him and Phillip so warmly? Could he handle it if they did?

  Tempest put her hand on the back of his leg. He loved that she was so openly affectionate. He was all in with her, so whatever her family brought to the table, whether it was warmth or judgment, he would deal with.

  “If you’re sure,” he managed.

  Sam patted him on the back. “One hundred percent. It’ll be great.”

  They talked for a few more minutes, and then Sam and Faith left to get something to eat.

  “Are you okay?” Tempest asked. “You looked a little pale there for a minute.”

  “Yeah. Just missing my family a little today.”

  She reached for his hand. “I’m here if you want to talk.”

  “I want gween.” Phillip interrupted, watching the little girl beside them coloring with a green crayon.

  Glad for the distraction, Nash searched the pile of crayons in front of him, and hell if they had every color under the sun except green. He held up a blue crayon. “How about blue?”

  Phillip shook his head. “Gween for the leaves.”

  The little girl held up the green crayon. “I have green. Do you want a turn with it?”

  Phillip buried his face in Tempest’s neck. Tempest brushed his curls from in front of his eyes so tenderly, it tugged at more of Nash’s already aching heartstrings.

  “Would you like a turn with the green crayon?” Tempest asked.

  Phillip nodded into her neck.

  “Can you say, ‘yes, please,’ to the nice little girl?” she urged.

  Still hidden against her neck, Phillip said, “Yes, please,” and the little girl handed him the crayon.

  Nash let out a brea
th he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Say ‘thank you,’ buddy.”

  “Thank you,” he said, looking at the little girl this time.

  “Can I use your red?” the little girl asked.

  Phillip nodded and pushed the red crayon across the table.

  “Thank you,” she said, and began coloring.

  “Can I use the wed?” Phillip asked.

  Nash chuckled, knowing exactly how the next ten minutes would go now that Phillip seemed more comfortable. Luckily, the little girl didn’t seem to mind sharing, even when Phillip asked for each of the next three colors she used.

  When they left the coloring booth, Nash said, “Maybe he’s ready for preschool after all.” He tugged Tempest closer and whispered, “I’m really glad you came into our lives.”

  She slipped her arm around his waist and flashed a flirty smile. “Maybe tonight you can show me how glad.”

  LATER THAT EVENING, Tempest sat on the stone wall in her parents’ backyard with Jewel, watching her parents walking with Phillip along the water’s edge. Her father carried Phillip, pointing up at the golden orb of the moon and then down at the water. She wondered if he was telling Phillip the mermaid tale he’d told her as a little girl. She hoped so. She loved her father’s stories and thought Phillip would enjoy them just as much. Farther down the beach, the low flames of the bonfire danced in the breeze. Nash, Nate, Cole, and Sam stood beside it, arms crossed over their broad chests. Nash had been stealing glances at both her and Phillip ever since her brothers had pulled him into a conversation about marketing his sculptures. They’d spent all afternoon at the picnic, catching up with her family, sneaking kisses when Phillip was busy playing, and wishing they could do more. She knew Nash could hold his own, but she also knew he was having a hard time missing his family. As much as she loved her family, she couldn’t wait to have a few minutes alone with Nash to make sure he was okay.

  Faith and Leesa came down from the house with a bag of marshmallows and sticks to roast them with and sat on the wall beside them.

  “Are you stressing out about how much everyone loves Nash?” Leesa asked.

  Tempest laughed. “No. How could they not love him? He’s such a good dad, and he’s smart and sweet.”

  “And hungry,” Jewel said.

  “What? Why? We ate dinner.” Tempest took a long look at Nash, and her heart soared. With the glow of the moon behind him, his face was shadowed, but she felt the heat of his gaze boring into her.

  “He looks at you like you’re a steak and he’s starved,” Jewel teased.

  “You can see that?” she whispered. “Please tell me my brothers can’t.”

  “It’s a girl thing,” Faith assured her. “The guys are too caught up in helping figure out his work to notice. Did you hear them earlier? Nate said he could hook Nash up with that gallery down by the marina, and Sam offered to include something in the Rough Riders newsletter about his work.”

  “I hope they don’t push him too hard. He and Phillip are making so many changes at once.” She noticed her parents heading back up the beach. Her father handed Phillip to her mother, who brushed his curls from his forehead and pressed a kiss there. “I think Mom’s in love with Phillip. You don’t think the guys will scare him off, do you?”

  “Oh, please. Your brothers are like A.1. Sauce to your steak,” Jewel said. “They care, Tempe. They are not a deterrent.”

  “She’s right,” Leesa said. “I fell as hard for you guys as I did for Cole.”

  “I am falling hard for him,” she admitted. “For both of them.”

  The men headed in their direction.

  “Look at these pretty ladies all lined up,” Nate said as they approached.

  Each of the men reached for their significant other’s hand. Nash strode right up to Tempest and stood between her legs, settling his hands on her hips.

  “How’s my favorite girl?” His gravelly tone gave her goose bumps.

  “Better now. Are you okay?” Seeing him with her family had done something to her. She wanted to protect him from their pushiness, but at the same time she wanted him to adore them like the girls did.

  “We’ll see you guys at the bonfire,” Jewel said, motioning for the others to join them.

  “Yeah. Your family reminds me of what mine used to be like. Before…” He wrapped his arms around her waist. “It’s hard, but it’s good.”

  Emotions whirled inside her. “I’m sorry it’s difficult, but I’m glad you like them.”

  “Tempe,” he whispered, and glanced down the beach at Phillip, snuggling in her mother’s arms. “It’s hard to put into words how much I feel for you. You’ve given us so much of yourself, and now you’re sharing your family. It’s all a little overwhelming, in a good way.”

  “I feel the same way about you,” she admitted. “And how you trust me enough to share Phillip.”

  “It used to be so easy to shut the world out. After we lost PJ, nothing mattered enough to want it to last. Then Phillip came along, and I’ve never loved anyone or anything like I love him.” His gaze softened and then became a little haunted. “And then came you, and I’m falling so hard for you, angel. I’m afraid to also fall hard for your family. I lost PJ. I lost my dad. My mother is off pretending like she never had the family I knew. Phillip’s mother abandoned him. I know this isn’t the place to bring this up, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that where we are—you, me, and Phillip—scares the hell out of me.”

  Tears brimmed in her eyes. “You’re afraid I’ll disappear?”

  He shook his head. “No, not cognitively. The man in me knows our relationship is strong, even if young, and only time will tell what will happen. But the worried father in me, and the needy boy in me? Yeah, those two vulnerable parts are.”

  A tear slipped down her cheek, and he brushed it away. “I don’t want to make you sad. I just want to be honest with you.”

  “I’m not sad.” She laughed a little, swiping at more tears. “I’m ridiculously happy. Geez, that sounds bad. I’m not happy that you’re worried. I’m happy that I mean as much to you as you mean to me.”

  A smile lifted his lips. “So what do we do?”

  “Um…kiss?”

  He cradled her face in his hands. “Your family is watching us.”

  She shrugged, smiling like the lovesick fool she was. “I don’t care. I’ve waited my whole life to find you and I have no idea how we handle the unknowns, but I know how we handle what we feel. Kiss me, Nash. Kiss me like you mean it.”

  He covered her mouth with his and her family cheered so loudly they both laughed into the kiss.

  He lifted her off the wall. “We should join them.” Taking her hand as they crossed the cool sand, he said, “Your brothers asked me what my intentions were with you.”

  “Oh God. Really?”

  He put his arm around her, hugging her closer. “I told them I intended not to screw things up.”

  “You’ve got all the answers,” she teased.

  “No. But when Phillip was born I didn’t have all the answers either. I didn’t have any answers. But I had love and I had hope. And somehow we’ve made it this far. You’ve helped us find answers to questions I didn’t know to ask. I figure maybe it’ll be enough for us, too.”

  He really did have all the answers. Tempest smiled up at him and said, “In a world where apps connect strangers to hook up without even knowing their names, and likes and shares are sold like commodities, I think hope and love are more than enough. They’re everything.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  BEFORE NASH AND Phillip left for their observation day at the preschool, Tempest’s parents had called to wish Phillip luck on his big day. They’d bonded so deeply during their visit that Phillip had talked about them nonstop ever since. He’d never spoken on the phone before, and it was fun to watch him pacing, the way Nash did sometimes. Nash had needed to remind him that Ace and Maisy couldn’t see him nodding through the phone, but every day Phillip was gett
ing better at communicating.

  Her parents should have wished Nash luck, too. It was exactly eight minutes since Miss Juliana, the thirtysomething, all-too-chipper preschool teacher convinced Phillip to join the group for story time, and Phillip was still teary-eyed. They should call observation day parental torture day instead, because nothing was harder than seeing the fear in Phillip’s eyes as a woman he’d only just met led him away. It’ll be hard at first, and he might even cry, she’d told Nash. But I’ve been through this hundreds of times, and I assure you, he’ll adjust better if you’re behind the two-way mirror. It had taken all of Nash’s willpower to walk out of that room and hide behind the fucking two-way mirror. He felt like he was abandoning his son, breaking his trust. How could this possibly be better than Nash sitting on the frigging carpet with him, holding him so he knew he was safe?

  He watched from behind the wall of shame as tears slid down his son’s cheeks. Two more minutes—that’s all he was giving them. Then they were out of there.

  The little girl next to Phillip moved closer, and he inched away, which brought him side by side with another little boy. The little girl moved closer again and reached for his hand. Phillip stared at her. Nash did the same as the dark-haired girl said something to his son. Phillip nodded. Nash held his breath. The little girl smiled. Damn, she was freaking adorable. Phillip smiled.

  You smiled.

  Holy shit, you smiled!

  Nash pressed his palms to the glass. “You can do this, buddy. I know you can do this,” he whispered. He watched as the little girl continued talking, and Phillip leaned closer to her. Holy cow. That’s how friendships were born. It was that easy—and that hard, for both of them.

  He was floored at how much they were teaching the kids. They sang the alphabet song, finger painted, and talked about an upcoming visit from a fireman. By the time class ended, Nash had made a mental list a mile long of things he should be doing with Phillip.

  When Phillip saw him, he barreled into his arms. “I made fwends.”

  “You did? That’s great, buddy.” He wasn’t sure he should tell him he’d seen him with his new friends.