Their Secret Summer Family (The Bravos 0f Valentine Bay Book 7)

by Christine Rimmer

  Gracie turned those shining eyes on him again. “My sisters are running the Medieval Faire.”

  “Harper and Hailey?”

  “Who else? They’re the Barnum and Bailey of Valentine Bay, those two. I might be able to hook your girls up with what they need for the Faire. Harper’s kind of a genius with costumes. She can take a bunch of random fabric and some rickrack and whip up something any medieval lady would be proud to wear.”

  He really wanted to kiss her. He wouldn’t. Uh-uh. But he wanted to. Bad. It didn’t matter in the least that she’d stopped running around braless in short shorts. Whatever she wore, he was interested. He would never forget their one night together and he kind of hated that it wasn’t going to happen again.

  “Dante?” She leaned toward him across the table. “Where’d you go?”

  “I’m right here.” It wouldn’t take much to get his mouth on hers. He could lean in to meet her.

  Not that she was necessarily interested anymore.

  She sat back and picked up her beer again.

  He ordered his brain to stay on task. “Getting two eight-year-olds the ‘special’ costumes they require is kind of a lot. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

  She let out a snort. “Oh, please. Look at all you’ve done for me. I’m no longer living in my brother’s house. Instead, I’ve got the perfect little cabin in a beautiful setting for five hundred a month, all because of you. Getting Nic and Nat costumes for the Faire is nothing, the least I can do. And it’ll be fun, too.”

  Seeing her naked again, now that would be fun...

  And what was the matter with him? He needed to get his mind out of the gutter.

  He was hopeless when it came to her, no doubt about it.

  Twin lines had formed between her smooth brows. “You okay, Dante? You seem kind of... I don’t know. Sad, maybe. Or preoccupied.”

  There was nothing wrong with him that another night with her wouldn’t cure—at least temporarily. Until the next night, when he would only be wanting her all over again.

  “I’m fine,” he lied. “’Nother beer?”

  “Thanks, no.” She set her empty bottle down and stood. “I need to change and head over to the Sea Breeze. Ingrid’s short a bartender. She asked if I could make it in from eleven to closing—listen, tomorrow I’ll reach out to my sisters about costumes for the girls.”

  “’Preciate it.”

  “I’ll let you know.”

  He gave her a nod and then watched her walk away, feeling low that she was no longer sitting across from him.

  Was he ridiculous? Damn straight.

  Somehow, he needed to get over himself, either stop yearning for what he was never going to let himself have.

  Or reach out and take it.

  If she was still willing. If he hadn’t already blown any chance he might have had with her.

  * * *

  During the family dinner at Daniel’s the next day, Grace talked to Harper. She said she would love to put together costumes for Dante’s twins. The Faire opened in two weeks. Harper said that was plenty of time to fix the twins up, as long as they got on it right away.

  It wouldn’t be right to get the twins’ hopes up if Dante had changed his mind about Harper helping the girls out, so Gracie planned to wait until after nine when she knew the kids would be in bed to talk to him about it. She got home from Daniel’s at a little past eight. It was weirdly nerve-racking, sitting in the cabin, waiting for the right time to go looking for him.

  She’d been missing him. They were friends and she hoped that someday they would get past what had happened on what she’d come to think of as the night of the tequila. She longed for them to be easy with each other again.

  And okay, hard truth? Even with the current tension between them, she liked being alone with him. The way he looked at her caused small, fluttery creatures to buzz around in her belly in the best kind of way. Sometimes she even dared to imagine the day would come when he would admit that he ached to spend the night with her again.

  Would she turn him down flat, as originally planned?

  Better not to even think about what would happen if...

  Dante was sitting on the deck with Owen when she went over there at ten past nine. With a nod at the chair across from him, he went in to get her a beer.

  When he came back out, she explained that Harper would make the girls their costumes. “So we were thinking that on Tuesday, I could pick them up at the park after day camp and drive them over to the cottage where my sisters live. Harper will take measurements and sketch out what the finished dresses will look like. She says she can have them ready in a week or so.”

  “Sounds great. How much do I owe you and Harper?”

  She gave him a serious eye-roll. “I told you last night. Nothing. I’m taking care of it.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means my part of this is minimal. I’m taking the girls over there and bringing them home. And I already agreed with Harper on the price of the costumes. I’m paying that.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “This is ridiculous. Let it go, Dante.”

  He had on his bad-cop face, unreadable and harsh. “Okay, I’m willing to take advantage of you.” She had to press her lips together to keep from making some silly, suggestive comment in response to that one. He went on, “Because you’re so damn stubborn and I’m tired of arguing about it.”

  “Jeesh. Thanks?”

  “But if Harper is making my girls their costumes, she’s going to get paid for it by me.”

  They went back and forth a couple of times, Grace maintaining that she had it handled, Dante insisting she take his money, or else. In the end, she gave in and he went inside again, emerging a few minutes later with a check for her to give to Harper.

  She reluctantly accepted the money and stood up to go.

  “Sit back down,” he commanded as he dropped into his chair. “Finish your damn beer.”

  She made a face at him. “Why? Because you’re so much fun to be with?”

  He gazed up at her through those fine dark eyes. His eyelashes were so thick and black. She wanted to reach out and touch them, feel them brush against her fingertips. She wanted to bend across the iron table between them and kiss that sexy mouth again, to have those big, muscular arms of his wrapping tight around her, pulling her in good and close to his heat and strength.

  “Please.” He said the word a little roughly. But kind of earnestly, too. Like he really, truly wanted her to stay.

  When, exactly, did she become such a complete pushover for this man? The night of the tequila? Maybe.

  More likely, it had started long before that, when he was always coming into the Sea Breeze and sitting at the bar, keeping her company while she worked. He would nurse a beer or two, maybe have sliders or fish tacos and fries. When things weren’t too busy, they would talk. He was a good listener. Too serious, maybe. But the thing about Dante was, he really did care—how a friend was doing, if everything was all right.

  She sat down and picked up her half-finished beer. “Bad day?”

  * * *

  Dante set his beer down. “Tomorrow, I have to work. The girls will go to day camp.”

  She gave him a small shrug. “I’m aware of the schedule.”

  “All I mean is, two days into having them with me and I’m so ready to drop them off at City Park and spend the day reviewing arrest reports and conducting background investigations.”

  Gracie rested both forearms on the table and plunked her chin down on her folded hands. “You feel guilty, is that what you’re saying?” She gave him a tiny smile and a hint of a dimple tucked itself into her left cheek.

  He had a raging case of lust for her. And he liked her, too. So much. Too much?

  Probably.

  “Talk,” s
he said.

  “It’s partly Roger,” he grumbled.

  “They use Roger against you?”

  “Exactly. It’s ‘Roger lets us do this.’ And ‘Roger says we don’t have to do that.’ And ‘Roger understands that we’re eight and we need to have some independence—and lip gloss. Daddy, we’re old enough for lip gloss.’”

  Gracie laughed, a quiet little laugh, and sat back in her chair again. “I’m sure it’s frustrating. But they really do seem like great kids. And it’s natural for them to test boundaries and limits with you. Also, think about it—is there a kid alive who doesn’t play one parent off against the other, at least a little?”

  He couldn’t stop himself from reminding her, “Roger isn’t a parent. He’s their stepdad.”

  “Oh, come on.” She slanted him a look both ironic and reproachful. “Stepfathers count, too, in a child’s life. And even you said he’s a great guy. You’re just jealous.”

  “Hey,” he grumbled. “Whose friend are you, anyway?”

  “Yours.” She reached across and clasped his arm. It felt so good. Her palm was cool, her fingers soft. He wanted...

  Never mind what you want, fool.

  She took her hand away—too quickly, as though she’d caught herself doing something she shouldn’t. He wanted to reach out and catch it, to lace his fingers with hers.

  How bad did he have it for her, really?

  Pretty damn bad. And it wasn’t only that gorgeous face and rockin’ body. She was good at heart and wise, too. Sometimes, when they talked, he forgot that she was almost a decade younger than him. He liked hearing whatever she had to say on any given subject.

  “Be patient with them and with yourself,” she advised.

  “I’m working on it. I try to remember not to always draw the line on them, to be more permissive now and then. Being permissive isn’t my strong suit, though.”

  “Really?” She poured on the sarcasm. “I never would have guessed...” But then she softened. “Honestly, though. They do seem happy and it’s obvious they adore you.”

  He scoffed. “They think I’m a dinosaur who doesn’t understand them the way Roger does.”

  She leaned in again. “They love you. You never have to doubt that. Show a little faith that they can love you and love Roger, too.”

  * * *

  Tuesday, Gracie picked up Nicole and Natalie at the park after their day camp. They’d kept their booster seats that morning when Dante dropped them off and now, they hooked them up in the back seat of Grace’s RAV4 themselves.

  The two were bouncy and bright-eyed, going on about their best friends at camp and their first sleepover of the summer at their cousin Heather’s house Saturday night.

  “Aunt Lisa lets us stay up late,” Natalie announced with glee.

  “It’s so much fun,” Nicole chimed in. “They have a fire pit in back and we roast hot dogs and marshmallows for s’mores. Carly, our friend from camp, is coming, too.”

  A glance in the rearview mirror showed Grace that Natalie was nodding. “We can’t hardly wait. We’ll bring our sleeping bags and sleep outside and tell scary stories all night long.”

  At the rambling one-story cottage on a hill above the beach at the north end of town, Hailey whipped up strawberry smoothies. Harper had ten different costume sketches for the twins to choose from, each consisting of two layers. First, a long undertunic in a lightweight fabric. Then another, heavier tunic went on top. The overtunic designs, in damask and velvet, featured deep, strong colors. They were embellished with ornamental bands at the ends of the flowing sleeves, around the hem and dropped waist and at the neckline.

  Harper had also provided a selection of wimple sketches so the girls could mix and match their headdresses with the gowns they chose. Grace, who’d studied medieval dress in college, had always considered the wimple to be about the ugliest thing a woman could wear on her head—no offense to all the excellent nuns the world over. However, the wimple was an authentic part of any medieval lady’s wardrobe and Harper had done a beautiful job of sketching out various wimple styles. Gracie kept her opinion of that particular article of clothing to herself.

  But then it turned out Natalie and Nicole felt the same. The two whispered together and then Natalie spoke up. “Can we skip this bandage thing on our heads?”

  Harper had no problem with that. “Absolutely. Who needs a wimple, anyway? You should love what you wear or why bother?”

  “I’m glad,” declared Nat.

  “We really love these dresses,” added Nic.

  Nat agreed. “It might take us a little while to choose...”

  And it did. For more than an hour, they sipped their smoothies and ate apple slices and debated the strong points of this or that gown.

  Grace took Harper aside as the girls pored over the different designs. “I planned to treat them to the dresses, but Dante wouldn’t let me.” She handed over the check.

  “Whoa,” said her sister. “This is more than I expected. Really, Gracie, I was only going to charge you for the fabric and notions.”

  “Cheap at the price. The girls are going to love those gowns and Dante was insistent that you should get paid for your work.”

  “Tell Dante thank-you.”

  “I will.”

  “How’s it going, with the cabin and all?”

  “I love it there.”

  Harper seemed to be studying her a little too closely. “But?”

  “But nothing. It’s a really cute place. Like this place, there’s a private path down to the beach and the price is ridiculously low. Dante’s a good, um, friend.”

  Harper looked at her sideways. “What’s an ‘um’ friend?”

  “That’s a long story and I’m not tellin’ it.”

  “Gracie.” Harper reached out and stroked a hand down her arm. “I’m here. Hailey’s here. For you.”

  It felt so good, just to hear her sister say that. Maybe she’d misjudged the situation with Hailey and Harper. Maybe feeling like an outsider around the two of them was more on her than on them.

  The truth was, Grace had felt somewhat adrift lately, in terms of having other women she trusted to talk to. Her lifetime besties, Carrie and Erin, were still partying hearty all the time, ready for anything, while Grace was starting to be more about making a place for herself in life and succeeding at her chosen career. She’d kind of drifted away from them in the past year.

  Now she was the one squeezing Harper’s arm. “I appreciate the offer for some girl time. I really do. And I’ll probably be taking you up on it one of these days.”

  “Anytime, the sooner the better. I mean that. We know Daniel used to be too hard on you.”

  “Well, we’re okay now, Daniel and me. We really are.”

  “Good. He was always kind of grim about having all that responsibility dumped on his shoulders after Mom and Dad died.”

  “Yes, he was,” Grace said with conviction.

  “But then I kind of think it was also hard for him to let go of being a second dad to all of us. As the youngest, you had the toughest time getting him to see that you are all grown up.”

  Grace was kind of blown away at all this insight from her sister. “You are absolutely right.”

  “Just remember.” Harper caught her hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “We’ve got another bedroom here and the price, for you, is even better than what you’re paying Dante—I mean, you just can’t beat free.”

  Somehow, Grace hadn’t expected Harper or Hailey to be that thrilled at the idea of her moving in on them. Apparently, she’d been wrong about that, too. Which had her throat going tight and her eyes turning misty. “Thank you.”

  “Nothing to thank me for. This house is for anyone in the family who needs it. And Hailey and I would love to have you here.”

  Grace didn’t know what to say. She pulle
d her sister into a quick, tight hug. “It means a lot—you know, to have the option.”

  “Anytime.” Harper whispered, “And I gotta ask. You and Dante? Maybe?”

  “Like I said, we’re friends.” The words tasted sour in her mouth.

  Harper was grinning—and still whispering. “No doubt about it now. I’m picking up an undercurrent, hot goings-on with a hot cop. You need to talk about it. With me.”

  “Uh-uh. Not happening.”

  “Shake your head all you want,” said her sister. “I’m not convinced. You’ve got to come over some evening, and tell all—or tell nothing if that’s how you want it. But come over and spend some time with us, please.”

  Grace promised that she would.

  When Nat and Nic had finally made their choices, Harper took their measurements and said she expected them back for a final fitting a week from today. Then she would make any necessary alterations and the dresses would be ready that following Friday, the day before the Faire opened.

  * * *

  Dante had chicken cooking on the grill when Gracie brought the twins home at a little after seven.

  She pulled in at the front gate and the girls got out, unhooked their booster seats and carried them into the garage.

  He called to Gracie from the top step, “Barbecued chicken? I’ve got plenty.”

  She leaned across the seat and hollered out the open passenger window. “Can’t. I’m closing at the Sea Breeze. Gotta be there by eight. Rain check?”

  Disappointment he shouldn’t be feeling twisted inside him, but he tried not to show it. “You got it.”

  “Harper says thank-you for the check.”

  “Worth every penny,” he replied with a friendly wave—because that’s what they were. Friends.

  She waved back and drove off around the house on her way to the cabin. He went inside and on out back to the deck, where he turned the chicken over and then called the girls to set the table.