He pushed the door open and stepped into what turned out to be a long hallway with closed doors lining it on both sides. To his right, a stairway led to the upper floors. “Grandmother Valentine? Are you here?”
When he yelled out this time, it had a far more authoritative tone. He didn’t plan on letting anything happen to her. Not on his watch. If there was a criminal in the house, Gavin wanted him to hear who he was dealing with by the tone of his voice.
The voice that responded was not that of a criminal, though. It was his grandmother’s, and it floated down from the upper floors. “Don’t get your panties in a wad, boy. I’m on the third floor. Come up here.”
Gavin’s heart beat faster at the sound of her words, however insulting they might seem to an outsider. Relief flooded him. He hadn’t realized how seriously he’d taken the potential threat on an emotional and subconscious level until it was clear that it didn’t exist.
He turned and shut the door behind him then turned the deadbolt with a satisfying click. His steps echoed heavily on the treads as he bounded up the two flights of stairs to the third floor.
He stepped onto a small, hardwood-floored landing and saw that there was a door that opened on the far side of it and, much like the front door downstairs, it was standing slightly ajar.
“It’s like she has zero regard for her own personal safety,” he grumbled under his breath.
“I can hear you, I’m not deaf,” came Grandmother Valentine’s strong voice from beyond the door. “Come in, son. I don’t plan to stand around here all day.”
He pushed open the door, his curiosity completely piqued by this point, and stepped into a large and empty room, grounded by the same hardwood floors as the landing, with white walls and crown molding overhead. To the left was a kitchen area, and off to the right were two closed doors. His grandmother stood directly in the middle of the expansive space with her young, strong, olive-skinned aid just behind her.
“Well,” Grandmother Valentine said, “What do you think?”
“Of?”
She extended her hand in a general gesture around the room. “Of this. Of, I think the young people would say, ‘the space.’”
Gavin cast his gaze around the apartment again, taking in the details with a more critical eye. He noticed the interesting angles of the room that created smaller nooks at the edges of the larger space, the dormer windows that looked down on the entire town and the endless ocean beyond, and the top of the line appliances that filled the kitchen.
He moved to the closed doors and opened them, stepping inside each of the rooms behind them as he did. One was a bedroom, with views that were just as stunning as the main living space, and one was a bathroom, which was period charming but with new and modern amenities.
The apartment somehow managed to feel both cozy and spacious at the same time, which was quite an achievement.
Still, Gavin was skeptical.
He rejoined his grandmother, shaking his head ruefully. “It’s not that it’s not a great apartment, Gran. It is. But my main concern is that it’s on the third floor.”
Her face drew together. “And why is that a concern?”
He tilted his head to the side, thought about how to deliver his reservations in the least insulting way possible. He put a hand to her elbow and spoke gently. “Well, it’s at the top of two flights of stairs. And not any flights of stairs, but steep ones. I would have a real issue with you going up and down them any time you needed to leave the house. A fall could cause a serious injury. Or worse.”
She shook off his arm and gave him a look that made clear to him that she doubted his faculties and wondered how he even managed to feed and clothe himself. “It’s not for me, Gavin. Good lord.”
He felt immediately embarrassed for having thought that, even though he wasn’t sure why – and he still wasn’t quite sure what was actually going on. “Oh, um…okay,” he stammered. “I thought you might be downsizing, and looking for my opinion.”
She sniffed with derision at the word “downsizing,” and Gavin realized after several long seconds of silence that she didn’t plan to elaborate. It was his turn to speak again.
“So,” he ventured, “is this an investment property you’re considering? Is that why you’re asking for my opinion, to help you make a decision?”
She drew back from him, visibly horrified at the idea. “Good night nurse, Gavin Valentine. I’ve been making my own investment decisions since your daddy was in diapers and I’m perfectly capable of continuing to make them without your input.”
He held up his hands in exasperation. “Well, I don’t understand, then. What am I doing here?”
She looked around the space, then back at him. “Because this is yours.”
He turned the words over in his mind, looking at them from a few different angles, but still couldn’t make them compute. “What do you mean, mine?”
“I mean I own the building and I set aside this apartment for you. Reasonable rent, I assure you. Since you’re going to be staying in Valentine Bay and you need a place of your own.”
“I haven’t told anyone that I’m staying for sure, yet.”
She cut her eyes at him. “Let’s not play games, shall we?”
He smiled to himself. She had a great bullshit meter and about zero tolerance for the stuff. “Fair enough.”
He took a slower stroll around the perimeter of the apartment. He could definitely see himself here. It was so high up that when he looked out the windows, he could almost imagine he was in a small plane, looking down on the town as he came in for a landing.
He turned back to his grandmother. “Yeah. You’re right. I love it. When can I move in?”
She smiled. A rare-ish occurrence, and he always liked it when he was the grandson who caused it.
She held out her hand, a shiny key on a ring dangling from her fingers. “Just as soon as you can wrangle those brothers of yours to help carry your things up those two flights of narrow stairs.”
Chapter 26
“Good Lord, hon. I can hear your heels tapping on the floor from all the way back in the kitchen. Are you nervous about something?”
Grace’s voice snapped Gen out of the daydream she’d been lost in. Actually, calling it a daydream was giving it too much credit for concreteness. The truth was, she’d just been zoned out, consumed in a haze of jumpiness and anticipation.
Her gaze moved to her legs and saw that, sure enough, they’d been twitching like crazy, causing her high heels to clack against the wood floors. She hadn’t even heard the noise.
“Oh, so sorry, Grace. I didn’t even realize.” She had to put her palm flat over her knees to still the tapping.
Well, this was a new low. Her preoccupation with Gavin had become so pronounced that she literally couldn’t control her own bodily response to the idea that he was about to walk through the door at any second.
Great.
Grace set her order down in front of her, a large coffee with cream and sugar. “Not sure you really need this, hon, but here you go. I’ll be back to take Gavin’s order when he gets here.”
Gen’s brow wrinkled. “How did you know I was meeting Gavin?”
Grace gave her heels a significant look and then went to take another table’s order.
Well, damn. Forget what she’d thought before. This was the actual new low.
Her gaze drifted over to the door again just as Gavin opened it and walked through. His eyes scanned the tables and, when they landed on her, his whole face lit up like a switch had been flipped.
He was a subtle guy, of course, so the display was not overt. But Gen knew him well enough to spot the telltale signs. It made her feel good on two counts. There was, of course, his joy at seeing her. That was obvious. But, on a deeper level, there was the fact that very few people would’ve been able to pick up his signals well enough to recognize the profound emotion in him. That made her feel special, elite, part of an exclusive circle in Gavin’s life.
&
nbsp; It was like they were sharing an elaborate inside joke, and he’d barely even walked through the door.
As Gavin crossed to the table, Gen’s focus was diverted by Grace, who was following a few paces behind him and giving Gen a subtle-for-Grace double thumbs up.
Oh, lord. Gen could do nothing but chuckle and shake her head. It wasn’t even worth wondering who else had seen the gesture. At this point, she was pretty sure everyone in town at least suspected there was something going on.
When Gavin sat down across from her, she straightened her spine and thrust her shoulders back, intertwined her fingers on the tabletop.
His eyes raked over her new posture. “Hmmm…” he murmured, his voice low and raspy, “Someone’s all business.”
“I am all business,” she agreed, her voice brisk and firm. “Thank you for noticing.”
He winked. “We could use this. Hell, yeah. All you need is a bun on your head and some horn-rimmed glasses.”
“What are you talking about?”
He shrugged. “I’m not choosy. Teacher, librarian. You can take your pick.”
Her cheeks colored. Not with embarrassment. What he was suggesting was relatively tame in terms of the things they’d tried over the years. And, in fact, there was a small part of her brain, waaaay in the back, that was thinking it was a good idea even now. But she had to keep that part on lockdown, because they were here to work, not play.
She took a deep breath. “Gavin, this is exactly the kind of thing I asked you to come here today to talk about.”
He used his foot to caress her calf, the rough edge of his boot slowly caressing her denim-covered leg. “Good,” he said, his voice so thick with lust and playfulness that it was barely more than a rasping whisper. “This ‘kind of thing’ is pretty much my favorite topic.”
To say that it was Niagara Falls between her legs would be to downgrade the strength of that powerful waterfall.
She closed her eyes. The state of her lady parts didn’t matter. She needed to focus and get through this meeting, say what she needed to say to Gavin and make damn sure he heard her.
When she opened her eyes, they were full of clear-eyed focus. “Gavin, we have a job to do—no, stop, no jokes.”
She cut him off after his mouth was already open but he hadn’t had a chance to say anything yet. He snapped it shut and then gave her a small, sheepish grin. “Fine. You’re right. What’s on the agenda, Boss?”
She narrowed her eyes, searching his tone for anything resembling sarcasm or innuendo, but she found none.
Come on, Gen. You only think there’s a double entendre in there somewhere because the sound of his voice turns you on so much you’re sure there must be something sexual in his words!
Well, that was hard to deny. But, she made a decision to take him at face value and move on. “Well, here’s the thing. I know it seems like the Fall Festival is far off on the distant horizon, but in fact, it’s coming up quickly. And we’re way behind on the planning.”
“Really?” He seemed genuinely puzzled. “It seems like all we ever do is get together for these planning meetings.”
“You’ve inadvertently stumbled onto my next point. Yes, we have plenty of planning meetings. Or, it might be more accurate to call them,” she paused to form exaggeratedly sarcastic air quotes with her fingers, “‘planning’ meetings, because how much freaking planning have we actually done?”
He tilted his head to the side. “Fair point.”
“And anyway, screw planning. We should be well past that and into execution by now, and we’re nowhere near that.”
His lip twitched. “Damn, you’re cute when you’re all business.”
She covered her face in her hands. “You see? Do you see that? That’s exactly what I’m talking about!”
“Sorry.” His voice was chagrined.
“I’m not even blaming you. I’ve been just as guilty of the…I don’t know. ‘Shenanigans,’ for lack of a better term. It’s not about whose fault it is, it’s about how we’re going to fix it.”
He nodded. “I guess it’s time to buckle down.”
Gen had to pause again while images of what that would be a double entendre for, if it was one, floated around in her head and put her in a daze.
She shook her head a little to clear it. “Yeah, I don’t think we’re capable. We’re gonna need to call in reinforcements.”
“What did you have in mind?”
She pulled out a notebook in which she’d written down a list of names. “Time to round up the usual suspects.”
Chapter 27
Donovan picked up the beer sitting in front of him on the polished bar of Cupid’s Arrow Bar and Grill and took a long swallow. He looked at Gavin. “So, Ella told me about being dragged onto your new, ‘fuller’ committee. What’s the deal with that?”
“I doubt Ella used the word ‘dragged.’ It’s not her style.”
“I was paraphrasing. So…what’s the deal with that?”
Gavin shrugged. He’d been doing that a lot lately in interactions with his brothers. When Donovan didn’t turn his gaze away or move on with the conversation, Gavin figured that the shrug wasn’t going to be enough.
“You know how it is. The date’s getting closer, there’s a lot of work that needs to get done. Too much for just two people. We’re calling in reinforcements.”
Donovan grunted.
Damn, and they give me crap about my monosyllabic responses. At least there’s one syllable in those!
They sat and sipped their beer in silence for the next few minutes, which was just fine with Gavin. He was used to being alone with his thoughts. It was his default setting.
Finally, Donovan said, “Why did you come back here, Gavin?”
Oh, shit. This old topic again.
“We’ve been through this. I’m out of the service. Donezo. Kaput. The fat lady, she has sung.”
“I know. You’ve been clear on that point, at least, even if you’ve been about as clear as mud on the reason why. But that wasn’t my question.”
Gavin shook his head a little to clear it. “Well, then, brother, I think my booze tolerance has shrunk significantly if I’m too drunk to follow a simple question after just a couple of beers. I could’ve sworn you asked me why I came back here.”
“I did. And you told me that you’re out of the military. That explains why you’re not stationed somewhere. But it doesn’t explain why you chose Valentine Bay, out of all the places in the world you could’ve headed. First time in over a decade you’ve had that freedom to choose, as a matter of fact. And you chose home, and family. Why?”
The question took Gavin aback. The truth was, Donovan had clearly given the question more thought than he ever had. It had just been an automatic response. Valentine Bay drew him like a homing beacon. For his entire stint, every time he’d been on leave, he’d headed straight here. It just seemed to make sense.
How to put that into words, though?
“I don’t know. I guess you kind of said it. This is home. It just seemed the natural choice.”
“I guess I’m just trying to get to the bottom of why you’d choose to come back to a place where you’re surrounded by family and friends if you don’t even want to talk to us. Because it sure seems like you’d rather be by yourself than with people who care about you. There are a million places to be by yourself, and one place to be with people who care. You chose the one. Maybe it’s time to start acting like it.”
Well, fuck, Donovan wasn’t playing around. He was getting straight to the point. And, yeah, maybe he should give some thought to why he’d chosen to come back to Valentine Bay – but he had a feeling it wouldn’t be all that complicated. In fact, if he were going to be unflinchingly honest with himself, the entire reason could be encapsulated in one word.
Gen.
It hadn’t been his conscious motivation, but when he thought about walking back into town, nine out of ten things he imagined involved her.
Shit.
>
He was really and truly fucking this up. There was no question about it. He didn’t want to. He wasn’t trying to. Yet, here he was. It was like he was outside his own body, watching himself on a big screen as he went through the motions of completely jacking up every important relationship in his life.
He was a military man. He knew how to approach a problem. First, make a plan. Second, execute the plan. Logic dictated that the same approach would be called for in this situation.
There was one critical difference here, though.
Plans of action were based on two things: the goal to be achieved and the obstacles standing in the way of reaching it. If a plan didn’t address those two things right from the start, it was destined for failure before execution even began.
So, therefore, any viable action plan needed to be developed by someone who not only desired the outcome, but also understood the obstacles.
That was the critical difference, and it was biting him in the damn ass. Oh, he understood the goals well enough. Create a life here in Valentine Bay. Be on good terms with his family. Be with Gen. Those objectives were clear.
It was the obstacles he had no clue about. They were as clear as mud.
In most cases, the factors at play were clear-cut. Depending on the situation, they had to do with personnel, or budgetary constraints, or geography, or weather. Hundreds of variables could wreak havoc with even the most carefully laid out strategy and Gavin prided himself on being able to account for them.
But this was different. These obstacles weren’t tangible. They were emotional. All of these people in his life had all of these feelings, and he was at a loss to understand what they wanted from him, why they wanted it, or how to move forward in a way that would satisfy their wants.
He did know one thing, though: Genevieve was the key. And she’d been clear about what she wanted – for him to come clean about why he’d been at the VA. That involved being vulnerable, trusting her with private information. It involved sharing his feelings. Fuck, it involved actually knowing what his feelings were.
Rescuing His Heart Page 11