He gave her a long, slow look before nodding. “Enjoy your afternoon, then.”
As he headed out the door, Maggie said, “He’s a curious one. Still gorgeous. Mysterious.”
“Flaky.”
“Maybe so.” Maggie shrugged. “Anyhoo, getting back to me.”
Lacy laughed. “Yes, let’s.”
“I want you to know that you are welcome to bring Finn to the wedding.”
Lacy tilted her head, scrutinizing her sister. “But you don’t even know him.”
“If you like him, I like him. The invitation is open.”
Lacy took a sip of her coffee. “I will let you know before Saturday.”
“Great.” Maggie took one last drink from her coffee cup and stood. “I’ve got to run over to my graphics girl and get these finalized so I can write out a stack of envelopes and get them in the mail.”
Lacy shrank back. “This week?”
“Absolutely! I want recipients to open them up and see that I’ve already married my prince.”
“Gross.”
Maggie chuckled. “There she is. I’d been wondering what happened to my sarcastic sister.” She brushed a kiss on Lacy’s head and took off, ever the excited bride-to-be.
Lacy sat a few minutes more, her hands cupping the coffee mug as she soaked in the silence. She peeled another look out the window but Finn—and Lillian—were nowhere in view. Finn was first and foremost here to do a job—to scope out a potential site for his first coastal property. So it should not have been a surprise to her that he would meet up with that shark again.
In some ways, Lacy admired the woman. Though she was hardly likable, she did manage to obtain most, if not all, of the area’s choice listings.
Admiration aside, something niggled at her, but she forced the worry away. Last night had been magical, though she wouldn’t be using such fatuous language in front of any of her sisters. She had a reputation to maintain, after all.
Lacy fortified herself with a last sip of coffee and a fresh inhale. Finn hadn’t said anything about seeing each other today, or any day, for that matter. But they had toasted to the next two weeks. Hopefully, they would find a way to each other before the calendar turned and she was on a plane back to Vegas.
On her way out of the bakery, Lacy waved to Brooke and hooked her beach bag over one shoulder. She had walked here, inspired by the warm day and the calm seas. Both would make for some great photos and she decided to spend the afternoon snapping shots. For old time’s sake.
A few minutes later, she wandered out behind the family home to the expanse of sand. She remembered being annoyed by the long walk from the water to the house, the stickiness of wet sand that had caked in places triggering her childhood outbursts. As she recalled, Grace whined about it the most—she’d have to give her grief about that the next time they spoke.
How silly they all were to have such little appreciation for all they had been given. She sighed, watching the day’s gentle waves curl toward the sand break. Plovers skittered up and down the shoreline in packs, both retreating from and chasing waves, their furry, feathered bodies rifling in the wind.
She pulled her phone from her purse, aimed, and shot bursts of photos of the birds and their antics. A throat-wrenching call announced the arrival of a gull, then another. She zoomed in and shot one, two, three photos of the menagerie that had formed. A whoop, followed by a laugh, pulled her gaze northward to where a guy and two women plunged into the waves. They reappeared, the women laughing loud enough for their voices to carry. They each grabbed one of the guy’s arms and pulled, like he was their prize at the end of a game of tug o’ war.
Rafael.
At least he had a very good reason to go without a shirt. Not that a warm summer day wasn’t reason enough, but the guy had maintained quite the reputation since high school, showing off his tan year-round, if the reports were to be believed.
Lacy laid on her stomach in the sand like she used to as a teen. The earth felt warm and comfortable as it molded to her body—not too hot, soft and yet gritty. She propped herself on her elbows and turned her screen to landscape, taking a wide-angle view. A pelican dove. Click. A stand-up paddle boarder sought to commandeer a wave from a bevy of surfers who waited patiently. Click. Her camera picked up the three bodyboarders again. Rafael dove into a wave, as if to rescue the women, but came out flipping the water from his hair as he emerged. Click, click, click.
She laughed. He wasn’t fooling anyone.
Lacy carefully put her phone in her bag, rolled herself into a sitting position, and swept off as much sand as possible. The sun had begun to grill her and her back twinged in places after the spasming episode of last night.
Reluctantly, she collected her things and headed back to the house. She carried her shoes with two fingers and tried to ignore the anticipation that was building within her. Would Finn call? Stop by? Or would he be all business today and work until the sun set and she had all but given up?
Wait, wait, wait. Get ahold of yourself, Lacy. She had never been one to wait around for a guy to call her, to put any of her own plans or thoughts on hold until he showed himself. In fact, if she wanted to, Lacy could march right up to Finn’s front porch and knock on his door herself.
She cast a glance in the direction of Finn’s vacation rental, a self-deprecating half smile growing on her face. Where was all this blustering coming from? Her mind flooded with her to-do list, the list unfurling, and she determined to go back home. She would pour herself a glass of wine and download her new photos. Might even find a perfect one or two to frame and put on the walls to welcome potential buyers when the time came.
Lacy had barely traipsed back into the house, the floors creaking beneath her feet, when her cellphone rang. Adrian. She sighed. Really? She didn’t have to answer the call, but curiosity got to her.
“Lacy! It’s so good to hear your voice.”
She hesitated. He sounded too nice. “Hello, Adrian.”
“Are you enjoying your time away from Las Vegas? Weather treating you well?”
She dumped her bag onto the table, frowning slightly. Surely Adrian hadn’t called to talk about the weather. “I’m having a lovely time. And you?”
“Oh you know, same here—lights, glitz, desert.” He laughed, the sound of it somewhat strangled.
“I can’t say that I miss that too much right now.” Lacy made a beeline for the fridge, opting for cold wine on this warm afternoon. She poured herself a glass of Pinot Gris and waited for the point of this conversation.
“Why would you? I’m sure the beach is quite beautiful.”
“It is. It is.” She rolled her eyes, swigged a sip, and put the glass onto the island. “Adrian?”
“Yes?”
“Is there something I can help you with?” That came out sounding testier than she would have preferred. She sucked in a breath. “I mean, what can I do for you?”
“Nothing. I called only to tell you how much I appreciate all you have done as a personal favor to me.”
Oh. “Thanks.” She couldn’t think of anything more worthwhile to say, her conversation with Finn about this very subject—Adrian’s perceived affection for her—amplifying in her head. Had she been mistaken about him? She had always worked to convey a tough shell. In business, it had served her well, kept her from becoming emotional during negotiations. Cool head, signed deal.
But sometimes that shell kept her from recognizing signs that were more personal in nature. Like right now. Was Adrian saying that he … that he had feelings for her that had moved beyond business?
He laughed again, his usually gruff voice unusually smooth. “I’ve kept you from your retreat long enough. Enjoy your next couple of weeks in Colibri. I will see you soon.”
After he hung up, Lacy downed the last of the wine, wincing at a sudden squeeze of pain in her lower back, though she knew that her periodic issue was nothing compared to Adrian’s heart condition.
No matter where she and Finn s
tood, she couldn’t lead Adrian on to think that her acquiescence to his demands during her vacation were anything but … professional.
Finn now knew why Lillian believed that the listing of the Morelli home was “nearly in the bag.” She said the same about the Mcafee house next door, though he suspected she was crowing about that prematurely, too. But he let her go on. For one, her fantastical projections entertained him. For another, he wanted something from her as well. Walking the fine line energized him, and in the end, he suspected the outcome would be worth it.
He opened the fridge, grabbed a jug of juice and a bottle of Prosecco, and headed over to Lacy’s house for an apology breakfast. Guilt seeped in and he chased it away. He hadn’t phoned her yesterday. Had become too engrossed in his work, having put off answering calls and poring over contracts until after his meeting with Madsen. His projects had kept him occupied until darkness fell and he decided then to call her in the morning.
He awoke today realizing she may not have taken too kindly to being ignored, though he had not considered his behavior that way at the time.
He took the old stairs to the Morelli home two at a time and knocked on the door. Several long seconds later she greeted him, looking slightly disheveled, as if she had been roused from her bed. His heart began to careen against his chest.
“Good morning,” he said.
“Morning.” She yawned slightly, covering her mouth with her hand.
“I brought you breakfast.”
She laughed when she saw the makings for mimosas in his arms. A good sign.
He followed her inside, acutely aware of the effect she was having on him. Her bare feet padded along the wooden floors, the hem of her long and translucent sundress brushing against her skin. She didn’t ask where he had been.
She pulled two champagne flutes from a cabinet, their glass etched from time. “No coffee first?”
“I’ve already been to the bakery for espresso.”
Lacy gave him a deadpan expression.
“Note to self: she’s not a morning person.” He quirked a smile at her. “Check.”
“Mornings are a necessary evil.”
He poured her drink and handed it to her. “Ah, there’s where I will have to prove you wrong.”
Her brown eyes peered over the top of her glass and he was mesmerized by their depth. His better judgment suggested he change the subject from explaining the way he would like to spend his mornings with her …
“How was your meeting with Lillian yesterday?”
He faltered, but kept his expression benign. She didn’t avoid saying what was on her mind, he would give her that. “Informative.”
“Hm.”
“What?” Finn cracked a smile.
“Have you found my description of her to be accurate?”
Finn reached for Lacy’s hand and pulled her two steps closer. He reached up and looped some of her wayward hair over one of her ears. “Let’s not talk about Lillian right now,” he whispered.
“If that’s what you’d like.” She trained those big eyes on him and he found himself falling.
He leaned in for a light kiss and she didn’t pull away. Another good sign. “That’s what I’d like,” he whispered.
Her smile engaged him.
“Let’s sit outside and watch the world for a while.”
“Perfect.”
She led him down the hall, past several closed doors, and that’s when he noticed a slight limp as she moved. As they stepped out onto the deck, he reached forward and touched her back gently. Strands of her hair caught on the breeze, tickling his face. “Are you still having pain?”
“A little. I walked a lot yesterday, which was a good thing to do, but I should have stretched more.” She laughed. “I sound old, don’t I?”
“Not at all. I want you to take care of yourself, though.”
“You sound like Adrian.”
“How so?”
“I wasn’t sure if I should say anything, but he called me yesterday and sounded rather … weird. Well, maybe that wasn’t the right way to frame it.” She took a sip of her mimosa, her eyes focused out to sea. “He seemed interested to hear about how my vacation was going.”
Finn groaned. “That’s it. I have to talk to him.”
“Why?”
He toyed with telling her the truth about his past heartbreak, but would she care to know? He wasn’t interested in pity, but he knew that, though his feelings for her were growing at a dizzying pace, something held him back.
“Because he’s my brother and I wouldn’t want anything to come between us.”
“Like a woman.”
“You know what I mean?”
“Honestly, I don’t. This whole conversation is strange, Finn. Your brother is a good boss in many ways, and eccentric in others—I hope that’s not saying too much, but that’s my assessment. The idea that he has any say in my, in our, well—”
“Love life?”
A smile lit her face. Suddenly the woman with a lot to say looked shy and he reached for her, enclosing her hand in his. “I haven’t told a soul this, but my fiancée cheated on me with my best friend.”
She gasped.
“Don’t feel sorry for me.”
“She’s the one I feel sorry for.”
He chuckled. “I like the way you think.”
Lacy dipped her chin, watching him, her gaze sympathetic. “Is this why you expressed concern about your brother’s supposed interest?”
“Exactly. Although, I’d like to think that I would not have needed to have my heart broken before I did something to hurt my brother.”
“You wouldn’t have.”
He smiled. “Thank you for your vote of confidence.”
She leaned toward him and touched his forearm briefly. “It’s great that you can laugh about it now. Was it a long time ago?”
“Six months.”
“Oh. Ouch.” He watched her swallow that information. “Not so long. I’m really sorry that happened to you, Finn.”
He shrugged, a weight off of his shoulders. He hadn’t realized how much grief he’d carried until he began letting it go. “Don’t be. I didn’t appreciate the way it happened, but I can honestly say that I’m glad it did.”
“You’ve turned a corner.”
“And I like what I’ve found on the other side.” He broke out in a grin and leaned over to her for a kiss. “On a sorry note, I hate to tell you this, but I have back-to-back conference calls today.”
“And I’ve got a spa date with my sister this afternoon—if you call the local nail salon a spa. And we’re doing dinner afterward.”
“You deserve it.”
She laughed. “I don’t know about that.”
“How about tomorrow?” Finn squeezed her hand. “The forecast says it will be a perfect day for the beach. No wind. We could have an old-fashioned picnic.”
Her expression turned pensive and she licked her lips, her gaze suddenly elsewhere. “I can’t.”
“Okay.” His brain scrambled to count the days she had left in Colibri. They were ebbing away and it was beginning to annoy him. “Then—”
“Finn? Would you like to be my date to my sister’s wedding?”
That was … unexpected. He opened his mouth, still contemplating his response.
She continued. “It’s tomorrow.”
“You’re kidding.” Had she mentioned this previously?
She laughed lightly. “Theirs is a long story, but simply put, Maggie and Luke couldn’t wait for a big wedding so they recently decided on a tiny one at his beach house … and it’s happening tomorrow. Maggie would love me to bring a date to round out the party.”
“Oh, I understand now. I will be a seat filler.”
She spat out a laugh. “What? No!” She shook her head. “I phrased it all wrong. Maybe this is too much to ask, I mean, we’ve only just begun getting to know one another on a, uh, personal level.”
“It’s not too much.” Finn winke
d at her. “I do have a question for you, though.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Was I your first choice?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Then I won’t have to clock Rafael next time I see him.”
“Oh my … what!” She threw her head back, laughing. “You’re hysterical. And ridiculous too. Poor Rafael.”
“Poor guy nothing.” He growled and kissed her lightly again, wishing for more, but knowing his desk called. “Enjoy your spa day,” he whispered. “Can I call you later for the details?”
She looked him squarely in the eyes, the thrill of her gaze sending heat right through him. “You had better.”
Finn could not resist Lacy another second and cupped her face in his hands, leaning in for a long, slow kiss. With reluctance, he dragged himself away, wishing for the ability to play hooky from his work for the first time in a very long time. Maybe ever.
Six
“We shouldn’t be doing this!” Maggie tasted a sliver of chocolate mousse cake, her pearlescent nails flashing under the bakery’s lights. She pointed her fork at Lacy. “I better fit into my wedding dress tomorrow.”
“Luke won’t love you any less if you don’t.”
“Hey! This is where you tell me that one small slice won’t hurt me.”
Lacy laughed. “Sorry. I’ve never been a bridesmaid before.”
Maggie waved that fork in Lacy’s face. “Nuh-uh. You are not a bridesmaid. Grace and Bella would kill me if I chose one of you over the other—they’re already annoyed at me for not having the wedding when they could come.”
“Tell me about it. Both of them complained on the phone to me this week. In my opinion, Grace has nothing to say on the matter.”
“That’s … right.” Maggie wagged her head and muttered, “Getting married on a cruise ship …”
Lacy sat back, enjoying her sister’s freak-out. She was finally going to marry the guy she’s loved for a million years. It was a huge surprise to all of her siblings, but knowing what they all do now, everyone was happy the moment had come. “Seriously, Mags, you’re gorgeous and you’ll look fabulous tomorrow. Are the girls excited?” Maggies’s daughter, Eva, and Luke’s daughter, Siena, were set to be the actual bridesmaids.
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