Kissing Bree

by JoMarie DeGioia

  Bree’s lips thinned. “Okay, we’re dating. I guess everyone knows that. It doesn’t mean we’re joined at the hip.”

  Caro laughed. “Where have I heard that before? Oh, yeah. From myself.”

  “Just the scone, please,” Bree said with a shake of her head. “And a large coffee.”

  Caro patted her arm and hustled behind the counter again. As Bree stepped up to the register she felt him behind her. His heat. His scent. Closing her eyes, she silently prayed for strength.

  “Here, let me.” Derek handed Caro his credit card. “And add a couple more scones and another coffee, please.”

  “Derek, you don’t have to,” Bree began.

  He just shook his head. Caro’s eyes were wide on them, and so were Jane’s, so Bree went over to the condiment station to fix her coffee the way she liked it. Derek drank his black, so he beat her to a round table near the front windows. She joined him, keeping her eyes on the tabletop until she couldn’t resist looking at him.

  “I didn’t think I’d see you today,” she said as she stirred her coffee.

  He met her gaze, his eyes flat. “I thought you wanted to do something.”

  “I didn’t know if you were going to be free.”

  He didn’t say anything to fill the sudden awkwardness between them. She blew on her coffee and took a sip. God, this was horrible. Not the coffee, which she barely tasted. This whole situation. Her stomach churned and her palms sweat as she caught the chill from him.

  “I’ve been thinking about what you said the other night,” he started.

  “Oh?”

  He nodded. “You’re right. This is just what it is.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Is it?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry if it seemed like I was pushing for more. Neither of us want that.”

  I do, I do! “I suppose that’s true.”

  “So let’s just cool this off a little.” He cleared his throat. “If you want to.”

  “Whatever,” she said. “There’s no need for any drama.”

  “No.”

  They each broke off a piece of their scones and chewed. Bree absently noticed how flaky sweet and unique it was, but if asked at gunpoint to describe the taste she wouldn’t be able to. She couldn’t taste this either.

  “Dinner tonight?” Derek asked after a while.

  Bree shrugged. “Maybe.”

  Her heart seized. Why couldn’t she tell him no? For that matter, why couldn’t she tell him yes? Tell him that she wanted more than just a casual “whatever” with him?

  He stood and she stared up at him. “I’ll text you later.”

  “Take a scone back for your mom, Derek.” She folded the bag over the remaining scone and handed it to him.

  “Thanks.”

  He took the bag, his brows knit like he was going to say something more to her. Then he tossed his empty coffee cup in the closest trash can and left the coffee shop.

  Bree sat there like an idiot, her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Breaking the scone into little pieces, she stared at the colorful crumbs and cleared her mind of what had just happened. They’d just broken up, hadn’t they? It sure as heck felt like it.

  “That was brutal,” Caro said as she sat in the seat Derek had just vacated. “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry for what?”

  “Bree, that was chilly.”

  “It is what it is.”

  Caro rolled her eyes. “God, I hate that phrase. Did you two break up?”

  “No.” Bree’s eyes watered and she blinked the tears away. “Yes. I think so.”

  Caro placed a hand on her arm. “Don’t lose hope.”

  “There isn’t any to lose, Caro.” Bree sniffed. “There never was any hope for a relationship. For either of us.”

  Caro nodded slowly. “Call me if you want to talk.”

  Bree sat there alone again, for a long time. Her coffee was cold and her scone a crumbly mess that spilled over the plate’s edge onto the tabletop. It was over. Before it could ever really start.

  She wouldn’t go out to dinner with him tonight. She couldn’t hide her feelings for him any longer. So she would just avoid him until they passed.

  “Give me your strength, Grandmother,” she whispered.

  She was going to need it.

  Chapter 20

  Derek silently cursed himself out on the short drive home. He’d had to give Bree an out. She wasn’t up for anything more than what they had right now and how long could they go on half in and half out of a relationship? He sure as hell couldn’t. Not any longer.

  “It’s better this way,” he muttered.

  He hadn’t wanted to break things off. Hell no. He’d wanted to admit that he needed more from her, not less. Last night he’d forced himself to leave her bed. Dragged his sorry ass home to crash on his new sectional.

  His mother had fixed him a cup of coffee this morning but he’d wanted to get out of the house. From the concerned expression on his mother’s face he’d known she’d guessed it on the first try. He’d fucked up again and was taking the easy way out. Floating, just like Eddie always said he did.

  He’d spotted Bree’s Mustang parked in front of the bakery and made the snap decision to forego the coffee shop for Eli’s wife’s place. Bree hadn’t been hard to miss in the small bakery. Snug black pants hugging that sweet little butt of hers. Thin maroon T-shirt with all that blond silky hair pulled up in a ponytail. She’d looked bright and happy as she’d talked to Eli’s wife. Bright and happy until she’d seen him standing there, anyway.

  He parked the Lexus in the garage and sat there for a long minute. Letting out a breath, he grabbed the green paper bag from the bakery and went through to the kitchen.

  “Leave,” he heard his mother say from the entry. “Now.”

  He tossed the bag on the counter and hurried toward the front door. Eddie was on the front porch, talking to his mother who stood in the opened doorway. She didn’t look upset, just really pissed. He’d never seen her pissed before. It looked good on her.

  “Get the fuck away from her,” Derek growled.

  Eddie turned is head to glare at him. “Derek, you’re back.” He slipped his hands in the front pockets of his golf pants. “How’s your hot little girlfriend?”

  Derek heard his mother gasp and he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Mom, are you all right?”

  “Yes, Derek.” She folded her arms across her chest. “I was just telling your father to leave.”

  “To leave?” Derek asked. So he hadn’t heard her incorrectly.

  “Yes,” she said. “To leave your house and to leave Cypress Corners.”

  A deep frown creased his father’s face. “It seems your mother has as little respect for me as you do.”

  Derek crossed his arms now. “Color me surprised.”

  Eddie’s face twisted in an ugly sneer. “You can both go to Hell, then.” He turned to his ex-wife. “You’re not getting anything else from me, Susan.”

  “I already have everything I need.” She lifted her chin. “My brilliant son saw to that.”

  Eddie grumbled. “Yes, my team couldn’t find anything at fault with the agreement Derek prepared.”

  “Praise, Eddie?” Derek scoffed. “A shame it’s too little too late. When are you leaving?”

  “You think you’ve bested me. You’ll never best me.”

  “Eddie, you’ll never be anything more to me than a minor inconvenience,” Derek said. “And if you even think to bother Abby when you get back to Boston, I’ll know about it.”

  Eddie threw up his hands. “Whatever. You’ll regret this, Derek. You need me. You’re as weak as your mother is.”

  The sound of a hard slap to the man’s cheek was a welcome surprise. His mother got in Eddie’s face, a determination there Derek hadn’t seen in years. She wore that even better than her anger.

  “You won’t speak to my son that way. Get out, Eddie. No one wants you here.”

  “I’ll do what I want to,�
�� Eddie said. “I talked to the lovely lady who runs the inn, Derek. She also told me about the late nights you had there with your pretty little girlfriend.”

  Derek knew Eddie was grasping at anything to hurt him but he wouldn’t play. “Go. Go back to Boston. If I hear you’ve done anything to Mom or Abby, Eddie? You can’t run fast enough or far enough. Forget about a restraining order. I’ll broadcast just what kind of a bastard you are. See if you keep your country club membership and yacht club friends then.”

  Eddie’s eyes widened. “Fine.”

  He stepped off the porch and trotted to a golf cart parked at the curb. Derek recognized it as one of the few carts used by the inn. So he had apparently schmoozed Mrs. Rollins into letting him borrow it. Derek shut the door tight. Typical Eddie.

  “Oh, Derek.” His mother wrapped her arms around his waist. She was trembling and her voice sounded a little hoarse. “I’m so sorry I didn’t listen to you sooner.”

  He held her close, resting his chin on the top of her head. “It’s all right, Mom.”

  “He’s such a…prick.”

  Derek felt a laugh bubble up in his chest. She really was picking up some of Abby’s habits. “Yes, he is.”

  She sniffled, and then held herself away from him. “He’s wrong, you know.” She swiped at her eyes. “You’re not weak.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  She squeezed his biceps. “You’re strong, and not just in muscle.”

  “You’re strong too, you know.”

  She lifted her chin. “I’m starting to believe that.” She grinned. “It felt really good to smack your father across the face.”

  “It felt good to see it.”

  Patting his arms, she stepped away from him. “Now what was that fool saying about Bree?”

  Derek shrugged. “Nothing that matters.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “It matters to you. I can tell.”

  “It was just his usual brand of crap, Mom.”

  She urged him toward the kitchen. “Did you see Bree this morning?”

  “I did.”

  “And how did you leave things?”

  “What things?”

  “Things between you, my son.” She clicked her tongue. “I tell you, I was stunned when you came home last night.”

  His cheeks heated a little but he covered by reaching for the bakery bag. “I brought you a lemon lavender scone. It’s something new from the bakery.”

  She opened the bag and breathed in the contents. “Oh, that smells delicious!” She withdrew the pastry and set it on a napkin. “You didn’t get yourself one?”

  “I ate mine there.”

  “With Bree?”

  “Yes.” He sat down on one of the barstools Bree had helped him choose. “With Bree. But I think that’s over.”

  “It’s over?” She planted herself on the stool next to him. “Wait. You think it’s over? Derek, that doesn’t make sense.”

  “I’ve never had a relationship, Mom. Ever.”

  She tilted her head to one side. “Are you saying that you’ve never…?”

  He leveled a look at her. “No. Come on. I’ve never had a girlfriend, though.”

  “And now you have Bree.”

  “No. Now I don’t have Bree.”

  “You do! Derek, I saw the way she is around you. The way you were with her that night at dinner. It’s clear you’re made for each other.”

  Derek shook his head. “She isn’t in this for the long haul. For something real.”

  “She told you that?”

  “Yes. No. Not exactly but we’ve just been floating.”

  She winced. “Ugh, don’t use that word. That’s an Eddie word, and it’s ugly.”

  “It is what it is, Mom. I think it’s time to step back and give her the space she clearly wants.”

  “Did you tell her you love her.”

  His mouth dropped open. “What?”

  “You love her.” She shook her head. “Derek, you love her. That’s clear. I’ve never seen you care about whether or not a woman was in it for real.”

  He blinked as his mind flashed through the past few weeks with Bree. It was different. Better. Very real. “I love her?”

  His mother laughed softly. “Are you asking me or yourself?”

  “Neither. I love her. Damn, I didn’t see this coming.”

  “The question now, dear son, is what are you going to do about it?”

  That was the million dollar question, wasn’t it? He might not know if Bree loved him but he sure as hell loved her. He just had to figure out the best way to show her what they could really be to each other.

  Forever.

  ***

  Bree’s front doorbell rang around seven o’clock in the evening. She hadn’t heard from Derek at all since seeing him at the bakery, let alone get any texts about meeting him for dinner tonight. So it was leftover pizza and a smoothie for her. A half healthy, half not-so-healthy dinner, but it was fine. She wouldn’t let it bother her. It was what it was.

  “Ick, that is a stupid saying.” Peering through the peephole she was shocked to see her father standing on her porch. Opening the door, she peered at him. “Dad?”

  “Hi, honey.”

  She looked over his shoulder but he appeared to be alone. “Why are you here? And where’s Mom?”

  “Your mother had a club dinner tonight and, frankly, I just didn’t want to go.” He winked. “It’s really more of a hen party, anyway.”

  “Come in.” She waved him inside and shut the door behind him. “Can I get your something to drink?”

  “No thank you.” He looked around the great room, the kitchen. “Your house looks different, Sabrina. More lived in.”

  “I went to Grandmother’s storage unit.”

  His brows shot upward. “You did? Good for you, honey. It’s about time.”

  “Sit, Dad.” He settled on the couch and she joined him. “Why are you really here?”

  “I wanted to talk to you. To tell you that it doesn’t have to be this way.”

  “What way?”

  His eyes, the same blue as hers, narrowed. “You know very well what way. This distance. Your mother doesn’t like it. I don’t like it.”

  Bree swallowed. “Distance works for us, Dad. It keeps things civil.”

  “Civil? Maybe.” He leaned forward, placing his hands on his knees. “I want more than that with my only child.”

  Her lower lip trembled. “Dad.”

  “Let’s put the whole Kip fiasco behind us, Sabrina. He’s proven himself to be a snake in the year since his phony proposal.”

  “Phony?”

  “We should have listened to you and not his lies. He’s just a trust fund baby with little to occupy himself.” He shrugged. “So he lies.”

  Bree settled back, her mind working through all her father was saying. “Mom agrees with you on this?”

  “She does. She’s been upset about things between us since the May Day party.”

  “Why didn’t Mom come with you?”

  “She’s stubborn, Sabrina.” He grinned. “A lot like someone else we know and love?”

  “Yeah, I can be stubborn.”

  “And strong. And determined. You’re all of those things, honey.”

  A lump formed in her throat. “Thank you.”

  His eyes were shiny and, being Arthur James, he stood and walked around the room in an attempt to hide his emotions. “You have a lot of my mother’s things here. That lamp. Ah, the hope chest.”

  “I’ve only brought in a few things so far,” she told him. “Derek brought the chest in from the garage for me.”

  “Derek Stone. Yes. We enjoyed meeting him.”

  She didn’t say anything to that. She couldn’t, so she simply nodded.

  “What do you say about coming for dinner, Sabrina? Every few weeks? We would love it.”

  Bree considered what he was proposing. With her non-relationship with Derek over, and she was pretty sure it was over, what else did she
have to do on the weekends?

  “We can try that, Dad.”

  He smiled wider than she’d ever seen. “Good!” He came back to the couch and hugged her. That was also unusual. “Your mother will be so happy.”

  She closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m glad.” And she was being honest. “Very glad.”

  “Good.” He patted her on the back and released her. “Your mother will make the arrangements. Of course.”

  Bree smiled. “Of course,” she agreed.

  “I’ll leave you alone now.”

  “You won’t stay for a drink or anything?”

  “No, I’m good. It’s been a while since I’ve had the house to myself. Maybe I’ll watch something on ESPN. In my underwear.”

  She laughed. “Lovely image, Dad.”

  He patted her leg. “Don’t get up. I’ll see myself out.”

  “Okay.”

  He walked over to the front door. “So we’ll see you soon, Sabrina? And bring that boyfriend of yours.”

  “I don’t think that will happen.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I think that’s over.”

  “You think it’s over? I don’t understand.”

  “We weren’t really anything, Dad.”

  “But you love him.”

  Her throat tightened again. “I do. How did you know that?”

  “It’s a father thing, I guess. Things will work out, honey. You’ll see.” He opened the front door and chuckled. “Sooner than you think, I’ll bet.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  She leaned her head back as the front door closed. Sighing loud and long, she placed an arm over her eyes. Her father’s apologies and disclosures weren’t expected but very welcome. She would talk to her mother soon, she imagined. And they would make arrangements for a family dinner.

  In her mind’s eye she pictured the table, exquisitely set. The food, perfectly prepared. The chairs occupied by only her and her parents. Derek would have been welcome. He would have fit right in.

  “That’s never going to ever happen,” she murmured.

  “What’s never going to happen?”

  She jumped up, turning to see Derek standing in her entry. “Derek!”

  “Your father let me in.” He stood there, shifting from foot to foot. “I hope that’s okay.”