Luke's Second Chance Family

by Francesca Lane

He cupped her cheeks with his hands and brushed his lips across hers. “I love you, Mags.”

  Tears streamed down her cheeks as she kissed him back, softly at first, then hungrily, the chasm of years between them closing.

  “A-hem.”

  Maggie jumped backward at the sound of Eva’s interruption, but Luke stood steady, his arms still around her waist.

  Eva’s hands were on her hips, an incredulous expression on her face and what Maggie believed to be a bit of a twinkle in her eye. “What are you two doing?”

  Luke swept a gaze over Maggie, then reached one arm toward Eva. “Come over here, squirt. Your mother and I have something to tell you.”

  Maggie dug her toes deep into the sand, one of her mother’s old beach towels wrapped around her, and scanned the beach: surfers for miles. Or so it seemed. The wind was low and waves were high—a perfect day for a surf competition. In many ways, she was sixteen again, heady sleeplessness calling her from a warm bed early in the morning and out to the cool beach. The sun poked through the marine layer and somewhere up in that sky she could hear the buzz of media planes.

  It was going to be a great day.

  “I’m so excited!” Eva bounced on her heels, her teeth chattering from either the early morning air or a bit of trepidation. She wasn’t sure which.

  “This is going to be epic!” Siena said. She put her arm around her sister, causing a catch to form in Maggie’s throat. “You and me are gonna kill it today. I can’t wait!”

  Maggie chuckled. “Sounds like you two are ready to go. Did you eat enough? Don’t forget to put the leash on before you run into that surf. Oh, and make sure you keep an eye on the shoreline at all times.”

  “Mo-om!” Eva stared her down. She shook her head and quietly said, “So embarrassing.”

  Siena crouched down and looked directly into Maggie’s eyes. “We’re going to be okay, Mags. I promise. You’re a nice momma.”

  Eva gagged a little, overacting, but she smiled too. She and Siena ran off toward the water then, their hands intertwined, each carrying a board under one arm.

  Full-on tears mingled with an uncontrollable smile. Maggie hugged herself a little tighter.

  “You look like a cat who’s caught a salmon.” Lacy plopped down on the sand, a mug of something hot and caffeinated in her hands. She drew a sip dramatically, like a dehydrated woman.

  “I can’t believe you brought your own espresso maker,” Maggie said.

  “Somebody had to bring some culture to this old place.”

  “There’s a new bakery in town, th—”

  “Gah. I know but no thanks. I very much doubt they can make espresso the right way.”

  Maggie turned her chin toward her sister. “You’re a snob.”

  Lacy shrugged, a tiny smile on her face. “Your point?”

  Maggie returned her gaze to the sea of surfers readying themselves for some friendly competition. “At least you’re out here with the rest of the unwashed.”

  “Ha. Speak for yourself. I’ve already had a shower today.”

  “I thought I smelled something floral.” Maggie wrinkled her nose. “It’s competing with the espresso aroma, you know.”

  Lacy laughed. “Look at you. So discriminating!” She took another long sip of her latte before saying, “Contrary to what you might think, I’m very happy you’ve finally found your surfer prince, Maggie. Quite the shocking outcome, though.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Quit saying that. The over-apologizing is depressing.”

  Maggie swung a gaze at her sister. Was she serious?

  Lacy flicked a side look. “All I can say is, I did not see it coming.”

  “That was by design, you know. Mick made me promise. We even brawled about it as our relationship began to deteriorate.”

  “Please. I never thought Mick was the father, anyway, especially after the way you ran into Rafael’s arms after Luke was such a jerk.”

  Maggie gasped.

  “What can I say? I’ve always thought Eva was Rafael’s.”

  Maggie followed Lacy’s gesture toward the shirtless wonder who was out on the beach this morning like just about everyone else. Though how he could stand there half-naked before the sun was overhead, she had no idea. Even surfers wore wetsuits …

  “Wait,” Maggie said. “Is this why you’ve been so beastly to me lately?”

  Lacy scrunched her eyes and gave Maggie a “c’mon” expression.

  Maggie laughed, pointing at her sister. “You have a little crush on the bad boy, don’t ya, Lace?”

  “Ha. Always the big sister who thinks she knows everything.” She held the mug to her lips and peered out over it in Rafael’s direction. “I wouldn’t call it a crush, but what can I say? I’ve always had an appreciation for his physique.”

  “Well, maybe now you’ll have the opportunity to appreciate it more closely.”

  Lacy gave Maggie a tiny, wordless smile.

  A pink paper bag dropped into the sand between them. Maggie jerked a look up.

  Luke smiled. “Thought you could use some breakfast.”

  Lacy scoffed. “Why? Because she’s too skinny? Have you seen the calories that bakery puts out?”

  Maggie ignored her sister and grabbed the bag. She drew in an exaggerated breath. “Blueberry and sugar muffin tops. My favorite.” She hopped to her feet and leaned into Luke. He smelled like musk, sea air, and neoprene. “You’re my favorite.”

  He grinned. “Yeah?”

  “Mm-hm.” She kissed his lips.

  “Gah! Please. Some of us have not had our breakfast yet and dry heaving is so unbecoming.”

  Luke snugged Maggie in for one more close hug before letting her go. “Gotta go. I’m supposed to be at the start.”

  Maggie touched his chin lightly. “You going to be okay?”

  He flashed that wide smile at her again, the one that made her want to fold into him and never be set free. “You bet.”

  She watched him take off toward the shoreline, the tail of his zipper flapping behind him. Wave runners were at the ready, as were lifeguards who would watch from the sand, and teams with water and snacks.

  “I have to give it to you, Mags. You really have fulfilled your calling.”

  “How so?”

  “You fixed that boy right up. Isn’t that what firstborn girls are supposed to do?”

  Maggie’s heart sank a little, a memory calling to her. “Maybe. Oh, but Lacy, I have such regret, especially where Mom was concerned.”

  Lacy was quiet a moment. “Well, kid, I do too.”

  “You do?”

  Lacy wore a sobering look. “Yes.”

  Maggie nodded, not wishing to probe any deeper with her often-stoic middle sister. She licked her lips, still looking out to sea, but her mind went suddenly elsewhere. “I think Mom wanted me to tell Luke and I didn’t understand. Maybe she had some remorse about the way things were … handled.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  Maggie exhaled. “Aw, Lace. Recently I found some glittery artwork that she’d hidden away. It’s the only piece of Eva’s artwork that she saved—a picture Eva had drawn of herself and her father. Well, of the man she thought was him.”

  “Do you ever get the feeling like Mom and Dad wanted us to stay in the house for a reason? I admit, I’m a little creeped out by it all. But then again, I am also wondering what it is she has for me in there.”

  Maggie nodded. “Excellent way to put it. Grace told me about the books and then Jake seemed to come to terms with his rocky relationship with Dad.” She shrugged. “Maybe you’re right. Whenever she called me, she would say something like, ‘Tell him. He needs to know.’ I sensed she wasn’t doing well for a long time, so I kept thinking she wanted me to tell Daddy something was wrong with her.”

  “And now?”

  “And now … I’m thinking Mom wanted me to come back to Colibri to confront my past.”

  “Mags? Do you think Dad knew Luke was Eva’s father?
”

  “It’s hard to say. He was always so … stoic.”

  Lacy scoffed. “Don’t say it.”

  Maggie looked purposely at her sister now. “Don’t say that you favor Dad in that area, you mean?”

  Lacy groaned.

  Maggie bumped Lacy with her shoulder. “Hey, well, I’m ecstatic at how things turned out after my month at the beach house. Let’s hope you find what’s hiding in plain sight for you too.”

  “Looks like they’re about to start.” Lacy stood, brushed off the sand.

  “You’re not sticking around to watch?”

  “What … are you nuts? Of course I am. I wouldn’t miss seeing my niece show off on a surfboard for anything.”

  Maggie’s heart lifted and crashed at about the same time, if that were possible. She was thrilled Lacy would stick around, but truthfully, when Luke told her that his campers were going to do a little exhibition at the start of the event, she could barely breathe, the memory of Eva and Siena’s recent adventure too fresh.

  “They’ll be fine, Babe,” Luke had assured her. “The staff has prepped them for this. Plus, I’ll be nearby.”

  So she had agreed.

  The beach was standing room only now, the anticipation of shoreside entertainment in the air. The team categories of beginner, intermediate, and advanced had congregated. And there was a special intergenerational category for the showoffs in the bunch. Each team would have fifteen minutes to catch waves and show what they could do.

  But first, the tweens who had attended Luke’s surf camp would do their exhibition run.

  Lacy tsked. “Chill out, sis. Your daughters have surfing in their veins.”

  Maggie jerked a look at Lacy.

  “I know nothing’s official yet, but from what I’ve seen the past couple of days, you, Big Sis, are the mother that child never had.”

  Maggie pressed her lips together, suppressing the emotion rising in her throat.

  A whistle blew and the kids ran into the surf, kicking up seawater and causing spectators to cheer. Maggie searched for the girls, thankful that she’d insisted on buying them new wetsuits, each with a different brightly colored stripe.

  “Humor me,” she’d said to Luke when he’d held up Siena’s “perfectly acceptable” all-black wetsuit.

  For the next ten minutes, the kids spread out and did what surfers do more than anything: they waited for the perfect wave. Both Eva and Siena caught different ones, each standing up for at least two seconds.

  Lacy cupped her mouth and bellowed out the loudest “woo-hoo-hoo” that Maggie had ever heard.

  Maggie shrank back, laughing. “Who are you and what have you done with my very proper sister?”

  “Being proper has nothing to do with shutting one’s mouth—and everything to do with knowing when to make one’s voice heard.”

  “Um, okay.”

  Lacy laughed and bumped Maggie with her hip.

  A second piercing whistle broke through the crowd indicating this heat was done and another would soon begin. Secretly, Maggie was happy the girls were done and would be coming in now. She’d packed snacks so they could sit on the beach with her and watch the competition. Maggie pulled towels from the bag over her arm and readied them for the girls.

  “I wonder what they’re doing,” Lacy said.

  Maggie quirked a look at her. “What who’s doing?”

  Lacy flicked her chin toward the ocean. “All the kids are lining up out there. I think they’re pointing at … you.”

  “What?” The morning sun had emerged, adding dapples of sunlight on the water. Maggie squinted, shading her eyes with a hand, and searched for Eva and Siena among the group bobbing out there. It did almost look like they were pointing this way. Maggie glanced at Lacy who had a silly smile on her face, her tongue stuck out between her teeth.

  “Sure looks like they are trying to get your attention, Mags.”

  The buzz of one of those media planes flying lower than normal caught her attention, as did the collective shout from the kids in the water. She looked up at the plane and back at the kids who were all shouting and pointing up at that overhead plane.

  “Look closer,” Luke whispered.

  Maggie jerked her chin to find Luke standing next to her. Her sister had vanished.

  He chuckled. “Not at me. Up there.”

  She followed his gaze to the plane, this time noticing a flowing banner flying behind it. She kept watching until the plane’s banner came fully into view. It read: Will You Marry Me, Mags?

  Maggie gasped. She turned her gaze on him. “I wonder who it’s from?”

  Luke growled and scooped her into his neoprene-clad arms. “It’s not from Rafael—I can tell you that,” he said, his voice deep and full of laughter.

  Maggie feigned surprise. “It’s not?”

  He cinched her closer again, their mouths inches apart. Maggie reached up and touched the scar above his lip. She reveled in the brush of his warm breath on her face, the glint of pure joy—mixed with a little mischief—in his eyes. “It’s you, Mags,” he said. “It’s always been you. Say you’ll marry me.”

  She licked her lips, her smile giving her away. “I’ll marry you,” she whispered. “It’s always been yes.”

  With a whoop, Luke lifted Maggie from the sand, his strong hands holding her up in the air like she was Jennifer Grey and he her Patrick Swayze. Siena and Eva showed up giggling and carrying on, telling Luke to put her down. Pretty soon a swarm of well-wishers had gathered around them, including Lacy, who hissed, “Okay, we get it, nobody puts Baby in the corner.”

  Luke laughed heartily and put Maggie back on the ground, though truthfully, as she accepted the hugs and congratulations from those who had gathered around them, her feet could still not feel the earth beneath them.

  A whistle blew, announcing the start of the next phase of the contest. As the crowd around them thinned, Maggie found herself blinking back tears that had been gathering all morning. Only these weren’t from heartache. She glanced up at Luke, whose eyes had not left her face, and all she felt was gratitude … for a second chance.

  I hope you enjoyed reading

  Luke’s Second Chance Family,

  book 3 of the Beach House Memories series.

  Want to read more?

  Turn the page for a sneak peek into Lacy’s story:

  Lacy’s Billionaire Boss.

  Sneak Peek of Lacy’s Billionaire Boss

  Chapter One, Scene One

  Lacy almost let the call go to voicemail. She glanced out to sea, the brim of her hat shading her skin from the sun’s afternoon glow, the lounge chair comfortable against her back. Her time at the family beach house had come, just as it had for three of her siblings who had already put their month of labor into the place. But with all the excitement surrounding Maggie and Luke’s sudden re-coupling and the impending wedding-of-the-year for Jake and Daisy, no one seemed to notice that she had arrived.

  Well, except for her boss, Adrian, who kept barking orders from the next state over. The man was likable enough, but rather wimpy, too—he whined a bit much for her taste. Poor guy had a weak heart, she was told. So she tempered her bite whenever she responded to his outlandish requests. No sense in aggravating the man’s precarious medical condition.

  Still, he threw so many requests her way: Could she make a few calls on prospective clients while out there? Do a secret site inspection in Santa Barbara? Snoop around when the President’s motorcade arrives in Los Angeles and find out what dessert they’re serving at lunch?

  Her answers—maybe, probably not, and no.

  But all she had actually said was, “I’ll look into it.”

  Her cell phone rang again, the name “Wren” splashing across the screen. Lacy took a long sip of her sangria, leaned back against the lounge chair on the deck that overlooked the sea, and answered the phone.

  “Oh! You are there, dear.”

  Lacy sighed. “Hello, Wren. How may I help you?”

&n
bsp; “I’m in a bind,” the elderly woman said, her voice nearly frantic. “I do hope that you’ll help me.”

  Lacy frowned. Wren Mcafee had been one of her mother’s closest friends in this beachside town. She’d had a stroke, but survived it, thanks to Lacy’s sister and husband, who swooped in and saved the poor woman. Now she was on the mend and living right next door, like she always had. Pretty soon, her daughter, Daisy, would be marrying Lacy’s brother, Jake. And just like that, they would all be related.

  “I will certainly try.”

  “Wonderful. It’s a rather delicate matter and I’m hoping, well, I am pleading with you to keep a secret. You will, dear, won’t you?”

  A tickle of a smile found Lacy’s mouth. What kind of secret could a near-invalid have? “Scout’s honor.”

  Wren hesitated. “Were you ever in scouting?”

  “For about a day and a half.”

  Wren chuckled. “You sound like my Daisy. Of course, I would have asked for her help if she was home. But since you are the daughter of one of my dearest friends, God rest her soul, I just knew you’d help me.”

  Lacy held her wineglass lazily, swirling the liquid in the glass, her mind wandering back. She vaguely recalled the pie Wren would bake and bring over soon after her family would roll into Colibri Beach for their summer stay, and that her mother would pull a knife out of the drawer to slice it up. There was coffee, too. Alway so much coffee. She could almost smell it.

  Lacy licked her top lip. “What is it that I can do for you, Wren?”

  “Oh! You see, the Sullivans next door to you rent out their house and I try to keep an eye on things for them.”

  “The Sullivans?”

  “You remember them, don’t you? Young couple with hoards of money who own the house on the other side of your family’s? Well, they are quite a bit older now. Off living in New York, I believe. Or is it Long Island?” She released a breathy little sigh along with laughter. “I suppose it really doesn’t matter, now, does it?”

  Lacy nodded her head, as if the motion would somehow encourage Wren to wrap this up. She had some serious navel gazing to do.