by Tamara Lush
“Cool, cool. She’s the one married to your brother Damien, right?”
Her mouth sets in a grim line. “Yeah. And apparently, he’s thinking about staying in Syria for four extra months because of the money they’re offering. So, a total of about eight and a half more months.”
I grunt. “Sounds dangerous. I know some military pilots who are contractors, and that’s some tough work.”
“No kidding. And now that Kate’s…” Her voice trails off.
“Now that Kate’s what?”
“Pregnant. Kate’s pregnant.” Natalia fixes her big eyes on me. “Which is incredible. I’m going to be an aunt. But I need to talk with my brother, because he needs to get back here pronto. Jerk.”
She finishes the beer and we sit in silence, swaying back and forth.
“I’m looking forward to being an aunt.”
“Oh yeah?” We’re holding hands now. As much as I want to take her into my bedroom and get her naked, I’m loving this, too. Sitting together in the warm Florida night, our hands intertwined.
“Yeah. I guess I should tell you up front: I’m not sure if I want kids of my own. But I sure do want to be an amazing auntie.” She blinks, as if she’s holding back tears.
“Why do you sound like you’re apologizing, when you have nothing to apologize for?”
She shrugs. “I want you to know that I’m probably not going to pop out a bunch of kids. In case that’s what you’re looking for in a woman.”
“Oh, babe.” I cup her neck and jaw in my hand. “I’m not looking for a baby incubator.”
“What are you looking for?” Her teeth are piercing her bottom lip, quite forcefully, it looks like.
“Someone smart and hilarious and fun. So, you. That’s all. I’ve got a daughter. It’s not that I don’t want to have more kids, but I’m content if Chloe’s my only offspring.”
She nods, and a smile spreads across her face. It seems like we’ve just taken our relationship to the next level with this brief conversation, and I’m a hundred percent on board.
My heart’s pounding fast as I pull her close. She rests her head on my shoulder and we sit like that for a long time, rocking in the night air.
NATALIA
“Leilani, how the hell am I supposed to get this fin thing on?”
I look up, and there’s my brother Remy in a red Speedo. And nothing else. He’s standing in the middle of Mermosa. The sight of him right now makes me wince, because it reminds me of every time he ran around the house half-naked as a kid. He’d chase me and attempt to sit on my back and give me a wedgie. This went on until I was about twelve and kicked his then-scrawny ass.
I was a pre-teen brawler.
“Eye bleach,” I cry, shielding my face with my hand. “Remy, my God. There are going to be children here soon. Put on a robe or something.”
“I’m trying my fin on, sis. C’mon. I look pretty hot.”
Leilani giggles and wraps her arms around my brother. “I think you do look super hot as a merman. Let’s go in back and I’ll help you.”
I grimace, as if I’ve eaten something sour, and turn to Kate. “I can’t look at them.”
Kate smiles and arranges various brushes and pots of face paint and glitter on a table. Nearby, Chunky is on his orthopedic dog bed — Ma brought it for him — and he’s wearing a shark costume. His face sticks out of the shark’s mouth. Surprisingly, he’s unbothered by the outfit.
“He looks like an angry, old man in a hoodie,” I say, pointing at the dog.
Kate laughs. “Your mom bought that for him. Your family is hilarious.”
My brows lift. “Well, I hope Matthew feels the same way. I’m a bit nervous, with him meeting Remy and Ma today, and then my dad later in the week.”
“Ooh, you didn’t tell me that he’s meeting Angus.”
“We decided last night that I’d bring him to Ma and Dad’s for dinner soon. After I picked Chunky up from you, I dropped him at my place. Don’t tell Ma, but I left Chunky with Sin and went to Matthew’s to hang out while Chloe was sleeping. It was really sweet. We sat on his porch and talked.”
I don’t add that I’d hoped to crawl into Matthew’s lap and have sex right there on that swing. Or that I was disappointed that he didn’t bring me into his bed. I mean, I fully understand why — his daughter was in the other room, and it was only her second night in the house — but a twinge of disappointment stayed with me all night. And horniness. That, too.
“His sister’s coming later today so she’ll take care of Chloe one night, and Matthew and I will have dinner with Ma and Dad.” Although in my horny state, I might need to cut that dinner short so I can have more alone time with him.
“That is so sweet,” Kate says. She still seems a little distant today.
“You feeling okay? Have you talked with Damien?”
“Yes and… no.” She swallows hard.
“Hm,” I hum. After this party, I’m calling him. That’s it.
My gaze sweeps around the bar. I have to say, Leilani did an amazing job. There are aqua and purple balloons everywhere, and the giant cupcake station has matching frosting. There are also jellyfish lanterns, a photo booth with a clam shell, goldfish crackers, shells, goody bags, blue liquid in a punch bowl with red gummy goldfish…
“Maybe Leilani needs to be a kids’ party coordinator, because this looks incredible. Look at that punch.”
“Ocean water, not punch.”
Taking the ladle, I scoop a bit of the punch into a cup and sniff. “Berry flavor, maybe? Yeah, it doesn’t even seem like we’re in a bar.”
“I know, right? I like how she took down the bottles of booze and put up decorations,” Kate says, looking up. “Are you going to swim in the tank?”
I press my hand to my chest. “Me? Hell no. Why. Is Lauren? Isabella? Ma?”
“I think so. They’re all in the back getting fitted for fins. And your brother, of course.”
I snicker. “Make sure you take lots of photos of my brother as a merman and send them to Damien.”
Kate and I lock eyes, and a sad expression crosses her face. “I wish he were here for this.”
“Me too. He’ll be back soon. So, let’s just have a great day, okay? C’mon.”
Someone turns on the sound system and the Beatles’ “Yellow Submarine” plays softly in the background. I’m folding Kate into a hug when the door flies open.
“Whoa,” cries a little, dark-haired girl.
Matthew enters behind her and glances around. “Whoa is right.”
Adrenaline kicks through my body at the sight of my handsome…boyfriend? Is that what he is? Yes. Yes, he’s my boyfriend, even though we’re not going to formally say that in front of his daughter yet. She has his eyes, and the sight of him grinning down at her makes my heart melt.
“You must be Chloe,” I say.
She stops and eyes me warily. “I know you,” she responds.
“You do?” I’m grinning like a fool.
“You were at our house last night. I saw you kissing my dad on the porch swing. I saw your tongue touching his tongue. It was gross.”
I blink. By now, Lauren, Leilani, Isabella, and Ma have emerged from the back, in a variety of sparkly mermaid outfits. I blink again. Well, at least my brother’s not here, flashing Matthew’s daughter in his Speedo. I guess it could be worse.
Right?
“Well, ah…” I say, looking to Matthew for help.
He clears his throat. “Thanks for inviting us, Natalia. Chloe, Nat and I are friends.”
Note his emphasis on the word friend. I decide to take a cue from him and ignore his daughter’s comment. What am I going to say? Yes, I was French kissing your dad? Or should I deny it? No, that would be wrong, because it would be a lie.
So instead, I introduce them around, starting with Leilani, then Ma, who looks like a belly dancer covered in seaweed.
“I’ve heard so much about you. You’re much taller than I expected,” she burbles, obviousl
y overjoyed at the thought of me and Matthew together. “Come here and give me a hug.”
Thank God I told him about Ma’s love of hugging.
“You’re so broad shouldered. Do you work out?” Ma asks, squeezing his bicep.
“Ma, personal space,” I mutter.
I should probably take her aside and tell her not to order the wedding invites, based on the way Chloe’s staring at me with the skepticism of a hardened homicide detective. Attitude is coming off of her in waves. I guess I wasn’t prepared for a ten-year-old to have such a commanding personality. The back of my neck begins to sweat.
Remy picks this moment to shuffle into the room. He’s wearing what looks like a shimmery blue girdle that covers his waist, hips, thighs, and legs.
“Is this supposed to fit like…oh. Hey.” He puts his hands on his hips and stares at Matthew.
Chloe giggles at the sight of him. We all do.
“And this is Kate,” I say, trying to pretend that everything’s as light and bubbly as the pale blue ocean water punch. An introduction to my goofy brother can wait. “Kate’s doing face painting. Chloe, do you want the honor of being the first to have your face painted? The other girls should be here in about a half hour. I asked you and your dad to come early.”
“Nice to meet you, Kate,” Matthew says, shaking her hand. “And I guess a congratulations are in order, since you’re expecting a baby, right?”
The room falls silent. Well, until Ma gasps and presses her hands to her mouth. Until a little whimper escapes Kate’s throat. Until Remy shouts, “What? How the hell does this rando know she’s pregnant and I don’t? Does Damien know?”
Oh, shit. In between talking and making out last night, I’d forgotten to tell Matthew to not say anything about Kate’s pregnancy.
The song “All You Need is Love” comes on at that moment, and I clap my hands together.
“Well. How about some ocean water?” I shout.
“Only if it has rum in it,” Remy grumbles.
Chapter Seventeen
NATALIA
Four hours later, it’s obvious that the mermaid brunch was a good idea.
Well, at least for Chloe.
Remy has been weird and cold to Matthew, and I haven’t gotten the chance to ask him why, mostly because he’s been swimming in the tank, entertaining the kids with his goofy underwater faces. Perhaps he’s found a new career as a merman. Who knows?
Ma’s been walking around, cheeks pink with excitement because she’s finally getting her long-awaited grandbaby. I’ll bet she’s already thinking about creating a Google doc to organize a dinner schedule for the month the baby’s born. Come to think of it, that’s not a bad idea.
I get my organizational skills from her.
Ma knows enough not to flutter around Kate, who’s been scarily silent since Matthew spilled the beans.
And poor Kate’s ignored everyone but the kids who have come over to where she’s set up camp at the face-painting station. After sprinkling blue sparkles and starfish over Chloe’s face, she’s worked her artistry on every kid who has walked in the door.
There must be a dozen children under twelve here, and they’re all jacked up on cupcakes and sugary punch. Half of them are on barstools, watching Remy and Leilani swim in the mermaid tank — “why is his chest so furry,” one little girl muttered, and I cracked up — and the other half are piled together at the seashell photo booth, taking selfies. The parents are at tables in the back, drinking beers or mimosas.
I’m sitting alone, surveying the scene and stuffing goodie bags with something called “sea goo,” which as far as I can tell is a sugary, sticky slime with gummy crabs inside. These parents will hate us come nine o’clock tonight, but whatever. I’m also trying to avoid Kate’s dagger-like stare. I watch as Matthew breaks away from a circle of dads and walks over.
I swoon a little as I gaze at his biceps, remembering what it was like to fall asleep with those manly arms around me. He’s such a snack! I just learned that phrase today, by the way. He slides into the seat next to me and gives me that happy grin of his. My heart pools like the candy slime on the table.
“Natalia, I can’t thank you enough for this. I haven’t seen Chloe have this good of a time in years.”
I meet his gaze and feel my face grow hot. “I’m so glad. She looks happy. And I think she’s made friends with a good group of kids, too.”
Matthew takes a huge breath. “I’m really sorry about Kate.”
“No! No, that was all on me. I should have told you not to say anything. Actually, I shouldn’t have said anything. I’ll make it right with her.”
Matthew reaches to brush his fingers over my cheek. “I know you will. And you meant well. Maybe talk to her after everyone leaves.”
I swallow hard. The last thing I want is Kate angry at me.
I mull over what I’m going to say to Kate and how I’m going to apologize as Matthew and I sit side-by-side, watching the kids. Should I send her flowers? Grovel? Take her out for her favorite pizza?
Probably, the best thing I can do is call Damien and convince him to return to Paradise Beach.
After Matthew and the other guests leave — Chloe begrudgingly called me “cool” as she walked out because she liked my flower-print Doc Martin boots — I turn to my family.
“Well, that went pretty well, no?”
“It did!” squeals Leilani, ever the positive Pollyanna.
“Absolutely,” Ma agrees. They’re both endlessly sunny.
Remy, who is usually in the ranks of the family cheerleaders, grunts. Kate glowers at me. Lauren and Isabella are at the bar, finishing off a bottle of champagne, probably hoping to hide from the family drama that’s about to unfold.
“What?” I snap at my brother.
He shrugs. “I dunno about that guy, sis.”
“Why?” I pick up a half-eaten cupcake and stuff it into a plastic trash bag.
Leilani frowns and pokes Remy’s side. He’s wearing a shirt and shorts now, thank God.
“I dunno. He’s got a kid.”
“Yeah? So? She seems awesome. A little prickly, but what do you expect? Her parents are divorced and she just moved. I think she’s hilarious.”
“You never wanted to be a mother.”
I snort. “Dude. I’m not going to be her mother. She’s got a mom, one who will see her every other weekend at least.”
Remy shakes his head and pops open a beer. “I can’t see it working. He’s got a whole shit ton of responsibilities. You’re like…” His voice trails off and he waves his beer in the air.
With a menacing look, I advance on him. “I’m like what?”
“You’re… you. You have your job and your condo and your cat and your jewelry. And, well, shit, Nat. You’re independent. That guy’s in a whole other stage of life. You’re like his manic pixie dream girl or some shit. To him, I’m sure you’re a breath of fresh air.”
I turn from my brother, tears stinging the backs of my eyes. How cruel. But honestly, he may be onto something. I’m so…untethered compared to Matthew.
“Dear, if you make each other happy, I’m sure you’ll work it out,” Ma chimes in. “But you do need to take it slow. A man with a built-in family is a lot to handle. Are you sure you’re ready for that?”
I shrug and clear a handful of soggy, blue napkins off a table. Is Remy right? And why is Ma trying to talk me out of dating Matthew? They’re both making me feel like I’m not mature enough, or something, to have an adult relationship. My mind goes to my lunch with Max the other week, when he also expressed doubts about my budding relationship with Matthew.
When did my family start thinking I was inept at relationships?
I glance up at Kate, who’s organizing her face painting kit. Ah, hell. I might as well try to talk to her now. I can’t feel any worse, not after what Remy just said.
I approach as if I’m about to soothe an injured animal. The rest of my family, bless their emotional intelligence, hustles
into the back, loudly talking about cleaning the mermaid dressing room.
“Hey,” I say softly.
She licks her lips and her eyes flit to me.
“Hey. I’m so sorry. I was so wrong to tell Matthew about you.”
She nods.
“I feel like a shit.”
She nods again.
“I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I want you to know that I’m going to call my brother this afternoon and talk to him about coming back. He will. You’ll see.”
“Nat,” she says in a hard voice. “Have you ever thought that maybe you can’t bend people to your will? That you can’t just flit and fly into a situation and make it all okay with your superior organizational skills?”
My eyes widen. “I didn’t think I was flitting into this situation. You’re family. I want to help.”
“Did anyone ask you to help?”
My face stings, as if she’s just slapped me. “Look, I’m so sorry,” I say, my voice barely a whisper.
I turn and tie the garbage bag, then grab my purse and practically run out the front door. I figure I’ll just throw the garbage in the dumpster, then sit in my car for a few minutes to gather my emotions.
But once I’m in the silence and safety of my car, I pull out of the parking lot and keep on going until I reach home.
Although Kate’s assessment of me still smarts, I Skype my brother Damien anyway.
He answers with a grin. At least someone in my family still likes me.
“Hey sis. How did the party go today? Kate emailed a photo but hasn’t called yet.”
“Went okay. Where are you?”
“I’m at the apartment, reading.”
I squint at the computer screen. “That’s some beard you’ve got there.”
His hand goes to his face and he tugs on his black face fur. He’s obviously in bed, and I spot a military history book on his chest. “You look troubled.”
I sigh. Of all of my brothers, Damien — badass Marine, built like a linebacker, broody — can read my emotions like no one else.