Palmetto Passion: A Sweet Small Town Family Romance (The Bradford Brothers Book 1)

by Christina Benjamin

  Rowan beamed at me, obviously delighted that he’d brought me to a place I was enjoying so much.

  “Here,” he said, lifting a forkful of shrimp and grits to my lips, “try mine. Believe me, it’s a life changer.”

  I eyed the creamy white grits with a large blackened shrimp on top, cheese and green onions dripping from it lazily. “It looks heavenly, but this is going to be hard to beat,” I said pointing my fork at my plate.

  “Have I steered you wrong yet?” he challenged.

  “That you haven’t,” I replied, hesitantly leaning forward as Rowan passed the fork between my lips.

  “You’ll never have anything this delicious again,” he whispered as my lips closed around the fork.

  I had to agree with him. And this time, I didn’t even try to hide my blush when I moaned with pleasure. The flavor was so buttery and cheesy and intense with just a hint of spiced zest. All I could say was, “We’re going to have come back here again.”

  Rowan laughed. “It’s a date.”

  Both of us paused, our eyes locking for a moment too long. Rowan seemed as shocked to hear those words come out of his mouth as I was. “I mean, if you want to. No pressure,” he added, sucking in a nervous breath.

  Not wanting to put him on the spot I let my eyes fall back to my slowly emptying plate. “Do you want to try some of mine?” I asked.

  “Please,” he replied, but his voice sounded overly polite.

  I looked up to see his protective mask back in place and I couldn’t help but wonder who was ever foolish enough to hurt him.

  Who did this to you, Rowan?

  I felt irrationally upset just thinking about anyone mistreating the man sitting next to me—which was miles away from how I felt about him earlier today.

  Maybe it was the food or maybe it was the company, but my heart was as full as my stomach. I was having fun with Rowan tonight. I couldn’t remember the last time I said that.

  But like all good things, I knew this too would come to an end.

  Our waitress appeared and collected our dishes. “Can I get y’all any cobbler or pie?”

  Rowan looked to me, but I shook my head. I was sure the dessert here was to die for, but I’d pop if I ate another bite.

  “Tell Archie the food is as fantastic as I remembered,” Rowan said, laying down a few bills to cover the meal as well as an ample tip.

  I fumbled for my purse. It was the twenty-first century. I could pay for my own meal. But before I could even locate my wallet Rowan climbed to his feet and was offering me his hand. “Please, Tess. Dinner is the least I can do. Besides, my mother would have my head if I let you pay.”

  I shrugged with humor. “So real southern gentlemen do exist?”

  “Eleanor Bradford certainly thinks so. She raised three of them.”

  “You have two brothers?”

  He nodded. “Both younger. You’ll meet them at the wedding.”

  My head was spinning as I tried to imagine two more dashing Bradford brothers.

  Talk about a good gene pool! Southern Kennedys indeed!

  As we headed back outside, Rowan once again pushed open the door of the diner to allow me to pass through first. When he followed, his fingertips just barely grazed the small of my back. It was a small motion but reassuring in a delightful way. A wave of goosebumps instantly washed over me as I wondered what it would be like to have that level of devotion from someone.

  Rowan barely knew me, but here he was, guiding me out the door and down the path to his car, a careful hand waiting to catch me should I need it.

  I could get used to this.

  It was stupid, but the foolish thought nearly brought tears to my eyes.

  I would never end up with someone like Rowan. It wasn’t even that his tax bracket might as well be on another planet. It was just the caliber of person he was. We were barely the same species. He probably attracted human rights lawyers or environmental lobbyists. I attracted cheating lowlifes who ruined my life so thoroughly I had to leave town.

  But from the way Rowan was gazing at me, it seemed no one had told him he could do much better than me. And for the life of me, I couldn’t bring myself to clue him in as he brushed an unruly strand of hair off my forehead.

  We stood there at the curb for a while, just gazing at one another, neither of us seemingly ready for this strangely pleasant night to end.

  While we were inside eating, night had swallowed Bradford Cove, leaving the ground swirling with shadows as streetlamps glowed golden over our heads. Fireflies winked above us competing with the stars. The moon, as round as a golf ball, loomed overhead.

  The warm spring breeze caressed us, tossing Rowan's dark hair into his deep blue eyes. This time I reached up to brush his forehead. The feel of his skin under mine electrified me. I took a step back, sucking in a breath at the shocking sensation.

  “Can I drive you back to your car?”

  “That would be great.”

  Our conversation was easy on the drive back to Mabel’s. The only downfall was it went by too quickly for my liking. I wasn’t ready for our night to end. Just as we turned onto Main Street, big fat drops of rain started to fall, splattering on the windshield.

  “Told ya it was gonna rain,” Rowan said with a smirk.

  “How’d you know?”

  “Old injury,” he said, his hand going reflexively to his right leg.

  “Oh, don’t tell me. I’m great at guessing sports-related injuries.” I tapped my finger to my chin while assessing his rugged frame. “You played football in high school.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah. I did, actually.”

  “And you scored the game winning touchdown only to hurt your knee and never play again, dashing your dreams of going pro, so you had to settle for lowly med school,” I teased.

  “Something like that.”

  “Oh come on. Am I close?”

  The jovial mode in the car suddenly grew as stormy as the skies. “It happened in Libya.”

  “Libya?” My heart dipped in my chest. I hadn’t been expecting that. But before I could ask what he meant Rowan was parking next to my Jeep.

  “Here you are,” he said, his tone clearly implying he was done with our conversation.

  I unbuckled my seatbelt slowly, not wanting tonight to end on this awkward note, but I didn’t know what else to say. Clearly, I’d dredged up a past Rowan didn’t want to revisit with me.

  Me and my big mouth. Why did I always have to go too far?

  I swallowed the thick lump in my throat about to thank Rowan for dinner when he spoke. “It’s really coming down out there. Want me to drive you home?”

  Not wanting to put him out I shook my head before I could actually consider the offer and then immediately regretted it when I realized that meant goodbye.

  “I live just down the block,” I said, pointing past him.

  I could see the glowing lights from my rented cottage from here. It was only a short drive, but I so would’ve liked to spend even another second with the handsome man next to me.

  “Oh. Maybe next time I can walk you home from Mabel’s,” he replied, making my heart swell.

  Walk me home? Next time?

  What an unexpected gentleman this guy was. Opening doors and treating me so sweetly. His groundskeeper impersonating ways aside, it was hard to believe a guy like him was single.

  Who wouldn’t scoop him up in a heartbeat?

  I was already imagining walking side-by-side, both of our hands intertwined as our shadows passed under the streetlamps. Suddenly I was desperate to feel the heat of his palm against mine.

  But this wasn’t a date. I didn’t want it to be a date, even if it was with someone as charming and dashing as Rowan. I was done with relationships, right?

  “Do you mind if I follow you home just to make sure you get in all right?”

  “Sure,” I answered, once again shocked by his manners.

  I hopped in my Jeep and revved the engine, a million questions swirling
through my mind. Who exactly was Rowan Bradford? Could he really be as perfect as he seemed? Did I stand a chance with him? Even if I did, was my heart ready for that?

  I reached my little cottage before I could figure out the answer to my questions. Rowan’s sleek sports car pulled aside mine and he hopped out with an umbrella, walking me to my front door where we were stuck staring at one another in the moonlight again.

  “I had fun tonight, Rowan,” I eventually said.

  “Me too.”

  “Thanks for making sure I got home.”

  “It was my pleasure.”

  My cheeks heated at the sincerity in his voice. “Well, goodnight,”

  Rowan’s hand caught mine like he had intentions of doing more than just holding it. But after a moment he changed his mind and let go, his voice tight. “Goodnight, Tess.”

  The way he said my name made me shiver and I knew I’d be hearing it echo through me all night when I closed my eyes.

  I began digging for my keys in the jumbled chaos of my purse. When I grabbed them I glanced back over my shoulder. Rowan was still standing in the same spot, gazing at me. My heart leapt into my throat, a warm smile spreading over my face.

  “Goodnight,” I said, slipping inside and then quickly peering out one of my windows to watch as he turned and headed back toward his car.

  Turning slowly around, I sank down the wall, my back resting against the floral wallpaper. The bliss of my evening came to a screeching halt as I stared at the piles of unpacked boxes sprawled out around me.

  They were a reminder why I was here. Why I’d run. Why I wasn’t ready to stop yet.

  Or was I?

  Tonight had been wonderful. Beyond wonderful. I was still riding the buzz of electricity thrumming through me from hearing Rowan say my name with all that tension. I’d never known my name could be so charged. That one exchange with Rowan had made me want to throw all my rules out the window.

  Would it be so bad to put my heart on the line one more time?

  It might sound ridiculous and I might be jumping in way over my head too soon . . . but tonight had been perfect.

  Maybe there was something in Bradford Cove worth sticking around for.

  Chapter 11

  Rowan

  I woke up early the next morning, startled awake not by another bad dream, but because I’d slept soundly for perhaps the first time in the last year.

  For a moment I laid still, scanning the room around me suspiciously as though I expected to be dragged back into a nightmare reliving my past. But when that didn’t happen, eventually I pushed myself up so I was sitting upright in my bed. I knew I owed this new restfulness to Tess.

  I’d been right. Hearing her say my name had been a tonic more soothing than I could’ve imagined. I’d heard her voice saying my name over and over until it lulled me to sleep. Even now, I could still feel the echo of her voice stitching together my invisible wounds. And that terrified me.

  The way she stirred me . . . it made me want things. Things I could never have again.

  Down the stairs, I could hear voices, two of them unmistakably belonged to my little sister and her husband-to-be.

  Ivy and Brooks had finally gotten in sometime after I’d left for my dinner with Tess. They’d been so exhausted by their flight and the wedding dress dilemma that they were asleep by the time I returned home. Colton had arrived too, but I already knew that much.

  I’d seen the mast of my baby brother’s sailboat the moment he arrived. For someone who liked to fly under the radar, it surprised me that Colton had decided to sail home. There was no missing the 65-foot schooner taking up nearly the whole cove. But still, I understood why he’d done it.

  Coming home wasn’t easy for any of us.

  Though I had to admit I was almost jealous of Colton. Living aboard a boat meant he could bring his home with him wherever he went. I’d been home for a year and I’d never felt more lost. Still, I’d reached out to Colton when he’d arrived. I wanted him to know I was here for him if he needed me—even if I wasn’t who I used to be.

  A brief look in the mirror reminded me of that. Even though I’d gotten a good night’s sleep for a change, I still had bags under my eyes. The last year had taken a toll on me. On all of us actually.

  My mother was awake when I walked through the door last night. She attempted to pry the details of my evening with Tess out of me, but I told her honestly that there wasn’t much to say other than Archie’s shrimp and grits was still my favorite meal in the whole world.

  I hadn’t missed the disappointment on her face. I knew watching me struggle couldn’t be easy on her and perhaps I shouldn’t have let her get so excited about my dinner with Tess. It was obvious that she’d taken it as a sign that I was getting better. But maybe I wasn’t. Maybe this was who I was now.

  I wished I could give my mother more, but last night, as lovely as it was, wasn’t the whirlwind romance she’d been hoping for. There was no kiss, no hug, and nothing at all of note despite the fact that every time I thought of Tess now a small smile twinged over my lips and a pleasant warmth spread through my core. When it came to my mother, I’d of course left that part out. Luckily for me she had enough on her plate with Ivy to be too concerned about me at the moment.

  Following the excited voices, I headed downstairs into the kitchen.

  “Row!” Ivy shrieked the second I walked under the arched doorway.

  The twenty-four-year-old petite blonde surged to her feet, leaping up into my arms and hugging me tightly. When she finally released me, she stepped back, her hands up on my shoulders, beaming at me.

  “It’s so good to see you!” she gushed.

  I smirked, tousling her hair like I did when she was young. “Hey, little sis.”

  She swatted my hand away still grinning.

  I greeted Brooks but frowned as I noticed quite a few missing family members.

  Reading my mind, Ivy explained, “Cole’s here. Mom’s out there trying to drag him away from his boat. He slept out there last night! Can you believe it?”

  I could, but I kept my brother’s secret. “And Ash?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

  That earned me a near synchronous eyeroll from my sister and Brooks.

  “He’s running late, as usual,” Brooks chuckled. “I think he decided to fly his helicopter in instead of letting the professionals handle it.”

  “That sounds like Ash,” I replied, shaking my head at my impulsive little brother.

  A moment later Colton’s lanky frame darkened the doorway, flanked by our mother. She clung onto him so tight I doubted my youngest brother could breathe at all.

  Ivy wrapped one of her arms around mine and hung onto it, her head on my shoulder.

  “I can’t believe we’re all back here again,” she sighed. “I feel like it’s been ages since we got everyone together.”

  “It has been,” I agreed.

  “Charlie’s here too,” Ivy beamed.

  I raised my eyebrows, darting a quick look at Colton. “Is she?”

  “Yep. And so is Byron,” Colton added, his voice laced with bitterness.

  “Who’s Byron?” I asked.

  “Her awesome boyfriend,” Colton said, untangling himself from our mother and joining us in the dining room.

  “Be nice, Cole,” Ivy warned.

  “We should go out tonight,” Brooks added, trying to diffuse the tension. “Party it up like old times.”

  “And by ‘party it up like old times’ do you mean that we’ll be having the time of our lives and you’ll be following Ivy around like a puppy dog?” Colton teased.

  Brooks laughed as the room erupted into a round of endless teasing reminiscent of our youth.

  We barely had a moment to catch up before my father ambled into the room to clap his youngest son on the shoulder. “Son.”

  Colton’s easy smile tightened as he nodded to our father. Like me, they didn’t have the easiest of relationships either. “Dad,” Colton greet
ed, tersely.

  My mother clapped her hands together like it was Christmas morning. “I just love having everyone back together. Now if only Ash would get here,” she said, casting an excited look outside. “Why can’t he ever be on time to anything?”

  My father wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a hug, pressing a kiss into her cheek. “He’ll be here soon enough,” he murmured.

  Though the old man could be rather curt and gruff, today my father was in a visibly good mood—at least for him.

  It was easy to see just how much my parents missed having all their children together. It was sad that we were only together for a short while for Ivy’s wedding festivities, but at least we had this time to enjoy, even if it was fleeting.

  I’d learned the hard way that time was always too short.

  Ivy seemed to sense my sudden shift in mood as my thoughts trailed back over the last year. Reaching over,she gave my hand a squeeze. Even though she was perhaps who I was closest to out of my siblings, she and I hadn’t talked much about what happened in Libya either.

  Ivy was the one who tried to call me the most after everything went down, but I just wasn’t in a position to share my feelings with anyone. I still wasn’t.

  I knew Ivy was there for me if I needed her. I also knew it was probably killing her that I’d shut her out of that part of my life. She was the type of person who wanted to talk everything through. But I just wasn’t ready. I didn’t know if I’d ever be.

  I’d made great strides with Tess last night, but under the scrutiny of my family, my progress suddenly didn’t seem so profound. Just thinking about broaching the subject of this past year was enough to make me want to crawl back in bed to hide.

  But this wasn’t about me. I needed to suck it up for Ivy, for my mother. It was rare we got time together like this, and I refused to let my unhealed wounds ruin it.

  Feeling Colton’s eyes on me as well I forced a grin onto my face, wishing that for just a few moments things could be normal and light, the way they used to be between us. The way they were when I was with Tess. Suddenly I wished she was here beside me.