“There’s plenty more where that came from,” he said.
She sighed and burrowed more deeply into him. “Was the first time with other girls like the one we had?”
“I’ve never been anyone’s first time,” he said.
“In that way, we were both virgins,” she said, sounding happy.
“Are you sure you’re not going to want to try some other guys?” The thought of it turned his stomach, but he had to ask.
She lifted her head. All that hair splayed over his chest as she looked into his eyes. “Don’t ever ask me that again.”
“Got it. Never again.” He let out a long, relieved breath and vowed to himself that he would do everything in his power to make sure she always had whatever she needed and wanted from him.
She settled back against him, resting one arm over his stomach. If she weren’t careful, he’d be ready for round three.
“Soph?”
“Yeah?”
“If I asked you to marry me, would you say yes?”
“You know the answer to that question,” she said, her voice wobbly. “Are you going to ask me soon?”
He chuckled and kissed the top of her head, which smelled unbelievably good. “The proposal has to be perfect, so it might take a bit to come up with just the right thing.”
“The proposal doesn’t have to be perfect. You’re perfect for me. That’s all I care about.”
“What about a wedding?” he asked. “Do you want one?”
“As long as I get to marry you, then I don’t really care how we do it.”
“But what about your mom? Will she care?”
“She will care,” Sophie said slowly, as if imagining how it would play out if he were to whisk her off to Vegas. “She will care a lot.”
“Then we’ll have a wedding. Whatever you want.”
“My dad will insist on paying for the whole thing. Maybe we can get away with something small, though.”
“Not a château in France?” he asked.
“I’d like that just fine, but it would mean more to do it here where we live. Where we found each other.”
His chest ached with love for this woman. His Sophie. She would be his wife. How was he this lucky?
“Small sounds good,” he said. “I’d vote for our church in town for the ceremony.”
He smoothed hair from her eyes. “I can’t lie. I feel bad that I don’t have a house for us,” he said.
“Since I have no stuff, moving in here with you won’t be a problem.”
“That does work out nicely,” he said. “But someday we’ll need something bigger.”
“Don’t worry about it. Everything will fall into place when it’s supposed to.”
“I’ve been thinking,” he said. “Would you be willing to fly to San Diego with me before we head to Paris?”
“Absolutely. We’ll have to let Judi know why.”
“I’m ready to talk about it,” he said as he reached for his phone. “Okay, I’m doing it. I’ll text that we’ll be there tonight for dinner.”
“Do it.”
He sent a group text to both his parents.
I’ve met someone I want you to meet. We’re coming to town tonight. I’d like to bring her by for dinner.
He deleted the last sentence. No asking. He would tell them.
I’m bringing her by for dinner.
Surprisingly, his mother texted back right away.
We eat at 7. I’ll expect you to be on time.
He showed the exchange to Sophie. “Oh, we’ll be on time,” she said.
A bark came from outside the room. “Poor Jen,” Sophie said. “We have to let her in. She’s probably sad out there all alone.”
“Spoiled pooch.” Nico got out of bed to open the door. Jen wasted no time. She leaped onto the bed and hurled herself into Sophie’s lap.
“Hey girl, that’s my spot,” Nico said as he pulled on a pair of sweatpants.
Jen answered by burrowing deeper into her new mistress’s lap and grinning.
Nico joined them on the bed and for the next few minutes there were many kisses of the canine variety.
Nico’s hands were shaking when he rang the doorbell of his parents’ house at five minutes after seven. “We’re late.”
“Just five minutes.” Sophie’s voice sounded a little shaky, too. “We shouldn’t have stopped for the flowers.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t have come.” He was seriously doubting the wisdom of this idea.
“This is the right thing.” Sophie squeezed his hand.
He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “You look beautiful, by the way. If I haven’t mentioned it.” Mrs. Coventry had picked out her outfit: a flowy dress in light blue that tied in the middle with sleeves that fluttered when she walked. He couldn’t stop fantasizing about untying the package. And her legs in strappy sandals were enough to cause a riot.
“You told me earlier.” Her eyes shone up at him. “But I love hearing it again.”
“You’ve got something on you.” Pollen from one of the flowers had left a yellow residue on the shoulder of Sophie’s dress. He brushed it with his fingers but only managed to embed it further.
“Don’t worry about it,” Sophie said. “I’ll wash it off later.”
A housekeeper dressed in black opened the door. Short and plump, she was around fifty with white hair and a sweet face. He didn’t recognize her. Not that he’d expected to. His mother went through housekeepers like some women changed outfits.
“Hi. I’m Sophie.” She vigorously shook the housekeeper’s hand and flashed that Sophie smile.
“I’m Merry.” She lifted her startled brown eyes to Nico, clearly unsure if she were to shake his hand too.
“I’m Nico,” he said, offering his hand in a quick shake. “Nice to meet you.”
“Please come in,” Merry said. “Mr. and Mrs. Bentley are waiting for you in the living room.”
The house was all white marble floors and pale walls. Large and cold with cathedral ceilings, he always imagined there would be an echo when he talked. A spiral staircase led up to the second floor. A giant chandelier glittered over the entryway.
Sophie’s heels click-clacked on the hard floors as they followed Merry through the house to the sitting room.
His father sat near the grand piano reading the Wall Street Journal. He set aside the paper and stood, smoothing the front of his linen shirt. Casual attire for his dad was Nico’s best dress clothes—the difference between a landscape architect and a lawyer. One of many, for which Nico was glad.
“You’re late,” Mom said from the wet bar where she was pouring martinis into glasses. She wore a pair of black slacks and a red silk blouse that tied at the neck. Most likely what she’d worn to the office. Both his parents were tall and slim. In their midfifties, they were fit and youthful.
“Sorry. We had to wait for a cab,” Nico said as he shook his dad’s hand. “This is Sophie Woods.”
“Nice to meet you, Sophie,” Dad said.
His mother stepped forward. “Welcome, Sophie.” Her light brown hair was cut in flattering layers.
“These are for you,” Sophie said. The bouquet they’d chosen looked paltry in the large, formal room.
“Thank you. So thoughtful.” Mom took them, and without doing the obligatory sniff, placed them on the wet bar. “I’ll have Merry take care of them later.”
Mom’s long red nails hovered over Sophie’s shoulder. “You’ve got something on your dress.”
Sophie looked at her shoulder and laughed. “A little pollen from the flowers. No big deal.”
Mom’s eyes expanded slightly. “Would you like to use the restroom to wash it off?”
“Nope. I’m good.”
Dad gestured toward the couch. “Have a seat. We like to have a drink before dinner, Sophie. Would either of you care for one?”
They both declined as they sat together on the stiff couch. He never worried about slouching on his mother’s furniture. They
all seem to have stiff backs.
Mom set two martinis on the coffee table and sat in the armchair next to his father.
“This is quite a surprise,” Mom said. “Sophie, we had no idea you existed until this morning. We hardly hear from Nico since he moved north.”
“I exist,” Sophie said, smiling. “And I’m here to stay.”
His mother’s gaze flickered to Sophie’s hand.
“We’re getting engaged,” Nico blurted out. “Soon.”
“Nico, really?” Mom said. “I’m glad you brought her to visit before you proposed at least.” She said this stiffly, as if he’d committed a mortal sin.
“We’re happy for you,” Dad said. “What happened with Addie was rough.”
“It was the talk of the club, that’s for sure.” Mom smoothed the front of her blouse. “For months.”
“Until old Larry ran off with his son’s fiancée,” Dad said. “Then they moved to that subject for several months.”
“That’s some family drama,” Nico said. At least they weren’t that bad.
“And what do you do for a living, Sophie?” Dad asked. “Are you in the landscape business?”
“I own a bar with my brother.”
As though they were lifted by strings implanted into her forehead, his mother’s plucked eyebrows rose in tandem.
Dad crossed his legs. “What kind of bar?”
“Old-school bar and grill. It’s been in my family for three generations,” Sophie said. “We’re very proud of it.”
“The Oar is a part of Cliffside Bay’s history,” Nico said.
“We had a fire,” Sophie said. “Nico saved my life by rescuing me from the bathtub.”
“The bathtub?” Dad asked.
Sophie nodded. “Yes. It’s now the talk of town, to my mortification.” She explained that her apartment was above the bar. Then she gushed about how he had saved her.
Embarrassed, he wished he’d asked for that martini. He said as much to his mother, then rose from the couch to pour one from the pitcher.
“Do you need money?” Dad asked. “How’s business?”
Derek Bentley was always one to get right to the point. “No, I’m good. Thanks for asking.” Nico sat beside Sophie and took a swig of his martini and coughed. “That’s strong.”
“Yes, Merry does a wonderful job with the drinks,” Mom said. “Which almost makes up for her lack of dusting ability.”
“They’ve had a few high-profile clients,” Sophie said, circling back to bragging about him. His heart ached with love for her. “Sara Ness just had them build her a mansion.”
“Of Ness beer?” Dad asked, brightening.
“That’s right,” Sophie said. “She can’t stop raving about Nico’s design. Her gardens are spectacular. He even put in a creek.”
“A creek? She must have a large piece of property,” Dad said.
Nico realized he needed to get on with things. They were here for reason. “I came down to talk to you about something specific.”
“We figured,” Mom said.
He took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. It was best to say it straight. “I had a DNA test done. I know you’re not my biological parents.”
No one moved for at least thirty seconds. He’d never seen his mother at a loss for words.
“Why would you do that?” Mom’s face had lost all color.
“Addie suggested it, back when we were together. Then everything blew up and I left town before she got the results back. They were mailed to our old apartment. She wasn’t sure whether to contact me or not. The way we left things wasn’t good.” Stop babbling. Get yourself together. “I’m down here to learn what happened. And why it was a secret.”
His mother finished her martini and got up to pour another.
He would stay quiet. Wait for her to speak.
Nico sneaked a glance at his dad. He looked like he wanted to run out of the room.
Mom sat back in her chair, appearing calm and unflappable. She was accustomed to the courtroom. “Why would you think to do this?”
“Because I wondered why you’ve never loved me.” Damn, his voice cracked there at the end. Keep it together. Sophie squeezed his knee.
Mom’s voice was sterile and without emotion as she launched into her explanation. “I’ll tell you everything I know. And then we’ll never speak of it again. My little sister became pregnant when she was thirteen years old. Derek and I were newlyweds. Father was preparing to run for a conservative seat in the House of Representatives. They asked us to take you and pretend you were ours. We didn’t have a choice.”
“Which made you resent me.” Of course they had. They’d been forced to do something they didn’t want to do. He understood, actually. All his life, they’d tried to make him into something he was not. Knowing the truth explained everything. Every moment of his childhood suddenly made sense.
“I was in law school,” Mom said. “Which I had to put on hold to pretend I was pregnant. That was my father’s plan. We had to go along with it for the sake of the family. I lost an internship in the law firm of my choice, which took me years to recover from professionally. The minute you’re seen as a mother, the old boys’ club marks you as damaged goods and dismisses you from the partner track. So yes, I was resentful.”
“You had Zander five years later,” Nico said. “How come he didn’t make you resentful?”
“Because he was mine.” The words seemed to spill out of his mother’s mouth before she could stop them. The moment they were out, she snapped her jaw closed with the force of an angry alligator.
Next to him, Sophie stiffened. “How could you not love him? He was yours. He needed you. I’m adopted, and my parents think of me as a miracle.”
“I won’t apologize for my feelings,” Mom said. “My stupid little sister couldn’t keep her legs closed. Then she decided to hang herself in the bathroom to break our mother’s heart for the second time. She was never the same, you know. Tina’s selfishness ruined our family.”
Sophie’s earrings were jangling. He turned to look at her and realized it was because she was shaking her head with great force, as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “She made a mistake. She was thirteen years old.”
“My life shouldn’t have been defined by her actions,” Mom said. “From the time she was born, everything in my family was about her, not me. And then, in the end, I was stuck with her mistake. Her child.”
Her child. Him. The baby no one wanted.
“Why did she commit suicide?” All the moisture in Nico’s mouth had disappeared. The feeling of cotton balls stuffed at the back of his throat made it hard to speak or breathe. Regardless, he had to ask. He had to know. “Was it because of me?”
His mother hesitated. She took another sip of her martini before she answered. “Does anyone ever really know the reasons for such a thing? I imagine she was ashamed.”
“There was more,” Dad said. “They wouldn’t let her see you. Or the boy. They locked her away in that house.”
“The boy? The father?” Sophie asked, her vocal pitch elevated. “Did the family know who he was?”
Nico inhaled a sharp breath that hurt his chest. His heart beat hard and loud between his ears. Time slowed. The wall behind his mother’s head wavered, like pavement on a hot day.
“He was the gardener’s son,” Dad said. “After everything I did for you. Priming you for a spot in my firm, treating you like my own—you end up a goddamn gardener like your father.”
Nico was surprised to hear the anger in the response. “I’m not a gardener.” He mumbled this under his breath as he processed what this meant. His choice of profession had seemed like rejection to his father. Was this the reason he cut him off financially? Had it come from a place of pain rather than a desire for control? How have you never seen this?
His gaze flickered to his father for a moment. He felt the urge to apologize, but he wasn’t sure for what. Being born? Being himself? For his DN
A that was not his father’s?
“He worked for the family?” Sophie asked. “Was he young too?”
“He was eighteen the year he worked for us,” Mom said. “One measly year. That’s all it took to ruin everything.”
They sat in silence for at least a minute. Nico’s entire body hurt. Secrets destroyed families. This one had almost destroyed him.
“Dad, is this why you didn’t want me to go to landscape design school?” Nico asked. “Because I was like him?”
“I wanted you to be at the firm with me. Like so many things through the years, you wanted nothing to do with anything I did or liked. In fact, you chose to do the opposite. It was like you knew you were someone else’s son. As much as I wanted to influence you, your heart belonged to someone else. When you suddenly announced you wanted to be a gardener—I’m sorry, a landscape architect—it was another blow.”
“You never acted like us,” Mom said. “Whatever we did, you did the opposite.”
“It wasn’t rebellion.” Nico put his hands in his pockets and crossed his fingers. Then, thinking better of it, he took out his left hand and placed it in Sophie’s. She was his shield now. Finally, he had someone on his side. He paused, taking in a deep breath to keep from crying as waves of pain washed over him. “It wasn’t about you. It was about me being myself. I tried my best to please you but at a detriment to myself. Had I taken the path you wanted, I would be completely dead inside. I couldn’t be a lawyer. It’s the antithesis of how my brain works. Let’s be honest, I’m not sure I could’ve gotten into law school even if I’d tried. People are good at what they love. I love plants, Dad. That’s simply who I am. I’m sorry if that felt like rebellion.”
“I suppose it was in your blood,” Dad said softly. “We were stupid to think otherwise.”
“Do you know what happened to him?” Nico asked. “Did he know about me?”
“Do you know his name?” Sophie asked.
His mother’s gaze dropped to her lap. “Why do you want to open this up?”
“Because I want to know who my family is,” Nico said. “It’s my right to know. I might have other family out there.”
“He knew about you,” Dad said.
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