Cady pulled out her phone and started texting. Bree’s eyes widened and she made a panicked grab for Cady’s arm.
“What are you doing? You promised not to say anything!”
“I just asked Burke to come by and pick us all up in an hour. Screw the DD role, Quinn, this night requires fortification. Waitress!”
Bree let out a shaky laugh. The tightness in her chest began to ease. Her friends had stopped crying. The mood at the table wasn’t exactly convivial, but it was getting better. She felt lighter than she had in years. The guilt she’d carried over the loss of her baby was a physical weight that had dragged her down. And now it was very nearly gone.
“He needs to know, Bree.”
“One step at a time. I’ve spent the last thirteen years protecting Ryan from the pain I have dealt with every day. I don’t want to think about how he’s going to feel to know he lost a baby.”
“Just so he doesn’t feel betrayed that you didn’t tell him.” Quinn shrugged her shoulders as she accepted her new Mojito.
Yeah, there was that. Bree lifted her glass in a mock salute and took a big sip.
“Thank you for being there for me, you guys.”
“Uh oh, we have officially reached the ‘I love you, man’ drunk portion of the evening,” Cady snorted.
“Oh, I’m not there ... yet.” Bree smiled and raised the wine to her lips again.
Setting her glass down, she made to scoot her chair back to go visit the ladies’ room. The woman at the table behind her was practically backed up against her. Bree muttered an ‘excuse me’ and waited for the blonde to move closer enough to her own table so Bree could get out of her chair. Rolling her eyes, she frowned at the woman’s back. Some people just had no concept of personal space!
• • •
His mom had outdone herself. Okay, given that he hadn’t been home to celebrate his birthday in—oh, his entire adult life—he figured she had every right to make a big deal. But the balloons and streamers? Ryan felt the flush creep across his face and down into the collar of his shirt to tickle his neck.
“Wow, Grandma, way cool!” Wesley pushed past his father, admiring the decorations that covered nearly every square inch of the house.
“Aw, Ma, you shouldn’t have.” Really, she shouldn’t have.
“Nonsense. This is the first time my baby has been home to celebrate his birthday in way too many years to count.” She gave him a look that brooked no argument. “Consider this my chance to play catch up for all the birthdays I didn’t get to spend with you.”
“My mom always says that birthdays are more of a celebration for the mother than the child. Whenever my brothers or I have a birthday, she insists we wish her a ‘happy birthing day.’” Bree’s grin was sheepish.
“Oooh, I like that! Happy birthing day. Remember that, Ryan.” Anne patted his cheek and gave Bree a warm hug. “I am so glad you could come with the boys tonight, Bree.”
“Thank you for inviting me. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Beyond keeping everyone company while I finish fixing up dinner? Not a thing. You two go on in and visit with your father.” Anne waved them toward the living room and headed back to her own domain.
Ryan slipped his hand into Bree’s as they walked. They were leaving Wesley to spend the night with his grandparents. Bree was coming home with him tonight. It was all he could think about. Happy birthday, indeed!
His father sat up straighter in his hospital issued bed. The slackness in his jaw was not quite as pronounced. His fingers were able to grip the television remote, even if they were still a little shaky. With enough concentration and patience, Bo was making real strides with his recovery.
“Hey, Dad. You remember Bree, right? She single-handedly saved my ass from being kicked off the football team?”
Bo nodded, a welcoming smile turning up the edge of one side of his mouth. Bree leaned in and gave the older man a quick hug. She turned and laughed at Ryan.
“You know, just because you’ve been gone all these years, doesn’t mean we all have. I walk past the hardware store nearly every day. I’d stop by and have a little chat with your dad a couple times a week.”
“I never knew that.” Ryan watched the camaraderie between the two with wonder. Had his father just managed a wink? Damned if the old guy wasn’t doing a hell of a lot better than they’d all thought.
“He’d keep everyone informed on his hometown hero son. I think half his sales came from folks coming in to ask how you were doing.” She’d perched on the edge of the mattress, grasping one of his father’s hands in her own.
“Oh, for the love of Pete! I’m not a hometown hero. I’m just a schmuck who got lucky enough to be recruited by UCLA to play a little ball. And what was there to tell? I am an accountant. I sit at a desk and add up columns of numbers all day.”
“And you live in Southern California, which is wildly exciting to the people of this town, when you figure most of them have never been outside of New England. You have an incredibly smart, well-read son. Shall I go on?” God, she was giving him a look to rival one of his mother’s.
“Grandma says to help Gramps to the table for dinner.” Wesley popped his head in just long enough to issue the announcement before disappearing again.
“You’re just full of surprises tonight, aren’t you, Dad? Joining us at the table for dinner. That’s incredible!”
His father grumbled something unintelligible. Given that he’d been brushing off his own importance just moments before, he wouldn’t be surprised if his father was doing the same thing. Like father, like son.
The man had been resting on top of his covers, so it wasn’t as difficult to help him out of bed as Ryan would have thought. The arm around his shoulders was strong, gripping tightly. Ryan walked slowly, allowing his father to shuffle along at his own pace. The smile on his face was huge, and he didn’t care how goofy he looked. His dad was walking again. In a matter of weeks, after being told he really ought to consider moving to an assisted care facility like Kittridge Manor, he was up and walking.
Apparently there was a “birthday chair,” judging by the cluster of balloons attached to the seat that had been his since he was a boy. Ryan shook his head, embarrassed by the attention, and yet honored that his mom would go to such great lengths. He helped his father take his seat at the head of the table and waited until Wesley and Bree were in their own chairs before batting at the balloons bopping him in the back of the head as he sat down.
“Holy crap, Mom—you still have that old thing?”
Ryan referred to the deep fat fryer that his mother had used to make his favorite birthday meal every year from the time he was about twelve until he’d gone off to college.
“Watch your mouth, young man! You’re supposed to be setting an example.” She clucked, passing a plate of homemade French fries to Bree.
“Sorry.” He exchanged a mischievous look with Wesley before grabbing the tongs and helping himself to a piece of juicy fried chicken.
His mother had pulled her own chair up close to his dad’s. Ryan watched as she cut up a piece of chicken and a few fries into bite size pieces and fixed a plate for his father. It said a lot for the man that he was willing to be fed in front of his son, his grandson, and his son’s new girlfriend.
Girlfriend. Ryan paused, a fry halfway to his mouth, as he rolled the term over in his mind. God knew it wasn’t what he’d been looking for when he and Wesley came back to Scallop Shores. But things had a way of working themselves out. And he couldn’t think of a better way to spend his birthday than surrounded by all the people he loved.
After dinner, his mom returned to the fridge for cake and ice cream. How long had it been since he’d had cake that was actually made from scratch? Truth of it was, he’d given up even bothering with store bought cake for his own birthday since Wesley was a little tyke. Birthdays were for kids, anyway.
But as he took a bite of the rich devil’s food cake with decadent buttercream
frosting, Ryan moaned. Yeah, he could definitely get used to this. Around the table, similar sounds of appreciation could be heard. His mother sat up a little straighter, pride glowing in her eyes.
“So what was your favorite part of your birthday, Dad?” Wesley asked, before digging a finger through the frosting left on his plate and popping it in his mouth.
The part that was coming up after he and Bree left for the evening. But since he couldn’t say that out loud, “Getting to spend this time with my son, my parents, and my favorite girl.”
“Is Bree your girlfriend?” Wesley tipped his head to the side, studying both his father and Bree.
Ryan looked up to see that Wesley wasn’t the only one waiting on his response. He winked at his son and turned his attention to the woman in question. “Yep. My girlfriend. My sweetie. My better half.” He loved how he was able to turn her cheeks a bright shade of pink.
“Good.” Wesley’s response only served to broaden his own smile and deepen the blush spreading all the way down Bree’s neck.
Though he tried to insist he help out with the dishes once everyone was done eating and the table had been cleared, Bree pushed him out of the kitchen. Then she snagged Wesley to help with the drying.
It had been a fun evening and he had meant it when he said he’d really enjoyed spending time with his whole family, but Ryan was anxious to finally be alone with Bree. This was the start of a new life together, the life they should have had all along. They would be a family, together with Wesley. But tonight was just for them.
They would reacquaint themselves, remembering everything that had drawn them together all those years ago. And they would explore each other with new eyes, as adults instead of the love-struck teens they had been. Ryan shifted uncomfortably, his hand reaching to check for the telltale bump of the condom stuffed in his back pocket.
It wasn’t like he’d needed to bring it with him. He could have left it in his bedside drawer. But his dad had always taught him to be prepared. Great. Now visions of pulling off on a remote stretch of road to make love to Bree in his pickup truck had him squirming for an entirely different reason.
“Dishes are done.” Wesley flopped down on the couch to watch the episode of Jeopardy that was playing on TV.
“Thank God!” Ryan ducked his head to avoid the startled looks he got. Probably shouldn’t have said that quite so vehemently. Crap.
“Wesley, dear, why don’t you wish your father a happy birthday and let him and Bree go off to celebrate the rest of his birthday like adults do.”
“Jesus, Ma!” His mouth dropped open in horror.
“By staying up late, going to a movie and maybe out for drinks. What did you think I meant?” She looked genuinely puzzled.
His father, by this point, was laughing out loud. His mom looked from father to son, not understanding what she’d started with all this. Ryan stood up quickly, thankful that Bree hadn’t been around to listen to the exchange. He pulled Wesley in for a hard hug and a tender kiss on the forehead.
He started to hug his father but the man pointed to his back pocket, a sign they’d invented back when Ryan had been in high school and his old man had wanted to ask if he was carrying a condom. When he nodded in affirmation, he was rewarded with a shaky thumbs up sign.
Jesus. It was time to go. He rounded up their coats and called for Bree, who was still puttering around the kitchen, wiping down counters. She seemed nervous, but just as anxious to start the rest of their evening as he was.
Not taking the time to heat the truck up beforehand, they shivered and shook as they climbed in. Ryan cranked the heater up to the highest setting, grabbing a handful of Bree’s wool coat and hauling her nearly onto his lap before kissing her roughly.
“I need you so bad I feel like I’m going to explode.”
“Well then, let’s break some speed limits, Casanova.” She shocked him by cupping him through his jeans and squeezing.
He was going to die. Slamming the truck into gear, he tore out of the driveway, imagining his father would have renewed his laughing fit as he heard the tires squealing in hasty retreat.
Less than five minutes later they roared up the short driveway to the duplex. Bree yelped when he hauled her across the bench to slide out of his side of the truck. Pressing her against the cold metal, he kissed her deeply, reaching under her coat for any skin he could get his hands on. Her fingers dug through his hair and her tongue thrust boldly into his mouth.
“Ahem. Hate to interrupt, but it’s frickin’ cold out here and I can’t feel my toes anymore.”
Ryan wheeled around in shock. He’d had no idea they weren’t alone. Who the hell was standing on his porch? And was that a suitcase? “What the f—?”
“Happy birthday, Ryan. Miss me?”
Stepping out of the shadows to stand directly under the porch light was his ex-wife, Haley.
Ah, shit. This was not good.
Chapter 11
Bree smoothed down her hair, took a calming breath, put on her game face, and stepped into the old warehouse that had been rented out for the calendar photo shoot. This was a huge day and she could not afford to be distracted. They were near the water and her stomach rebelled at the briny fish smell.
On her way out the door, she’d filled her favorite travel mug, a bright pink one that her little brothers had given her for Christmas, with a strong, dark brew. Raising it to her lips now, she changed her mind at the last minute. She needed all the help she could get to keep her breakfast down, this morning.
After Ryan had gotten over his shock at having his ex-wife turn up on his porch, prepared to stay a while, he invited Haley inside. To his credit, he’d invited Bree too, but she’d hightailed it back to her own place. She’d needed to be alone. Not knowing exactly what happened after that was doing a number on her nerves. Had Haley attempted to seduce him? Where had she slept last night? Or more importantly, where had Ryan slept?
There was absolutely nothing to worry about, she told her strung-out brain. Her overactive imagination had kept her from getting any sleep the night before. Bree tried to keep in mind that she and Ryan had found each other again. They were in a committed relationship. They had been about to take the next step before Haley had interrupted. They were going to be one big happy family, her and Ryan and Wesley. They were starting over. It was their second chance. Everything was just dandy.
“You okay?” Bree stumbled to a stop as Foster laid a hand on her shoulder.
“Of course. A little nervous I admit, but—” Oh, crap. The way he was looking at her. Haley was here. At the warehouse. The woman had shown up at her photo shoot.
“What kind of game does Haley think she’s playing?” Foster sneered.
“Who says it’s a game? People come home all the time. Maybe she’s just looking for a fresh start.” Her jaw ached with the effort to look unaffected by the woman’s presence.
Heading off in search of the photographer, Bree tried to ignore the dull throbbing that was sure to turn into a killer headache by lunchtime. She didn’t have time for this, for any of this. Seriously, what was Haley even doing here? No one invited her. Had they?
Across the warehouse, the former head cheerleader held audience, laughing and tossing her hair back. One possessive arm snaked tightly around Ryan’s bicep. To his credit, the man looked as though he would rather be anywhere else. Nope, she had no time for this. Insecurities be damned!
The large, empty room had been set up in sections, each one with various props and backdrops to set the scene. Bree and Damian, a talented photographer known throughout the Seacoast, had already come up with a preliminary list of which man would model for which month, with some basic background ideas. Being early February, outdoor location shots were not practical. She imagined the men she’d lined up for the winter months were grateful.
As each of her models arrived, Damian insisted they get “into costume,” which basically meant they were to strip down to their pants. In some cases, less, in some a li
ttle more. Lucas had been asked to bring his turnout gear, and now wore the heavy pants with nothing but his strapping chest and wide shoulders, liberally dotted with ginger freckles to match his red hair, to hold up the suspenders. Bree nearly melted in a puddle when she caught a glimpse of the shy firefighter rubbing his neatly trimmed beard against a Dalmatian puppy.
Was it warm in here? She plucked at her blouse, trying to generate a little breeze, while making a concerted effort to maintain eye contact. This wasn’t awkward at all. No siree! She stepped around Cady’s brother, Chase, who was in the makeup chair, wearing his dress uniform. Well, most of it. Snorting, she wondered where he’d put his badge.
“Hey, Bree, this guy says I’m supposed to leave my jeans unzipped. Don’t you think that’s a bit much?” Burke approached her, his hands held protectively over his package.
“Humor him. It won’t take but a second. Damian promised nothing lewd. You’re safe for now.” She paused to fix his hair, seeing he’d wrecked the job the hairdresser had done only moments before.
As Haley’s bubbly laughter reached her ears Bree grit her teeth and hummed the theme song to Jeopardy, making her way over to the first area that was sectioned off. Just because the woman had invited herself here did not mean she had to acknowledge her presence. It didn’t bother her at all that Ryan’s ex-wife was hanging all over him. The poor guy probably felt so awkward. Bree looked up in time to see Ryan high-fiving one of his old teammates.
The pencil in her fist snapped with enough force to send both pieces flying in opposite directions. Bree laughed nervously, thankful that the only person who had noticed was someone in Damian’s employ. She gave the young woman a helpless shrug and hoped she just looked like a ditz.
Focusing on the task at hand, she rifled through the notes she’d made on the January setting as she reached the lifelike backdrop of a roaring fire. They probably could have gotten the real thing, but it would have meant hauling Damian and his equipment to one of the local hotels or bed and breakfasts, gaining permission and a lot of added attention from curious bystanders. She nodded at the thick, cozy rug on the ground, and the thin-stemmed champagne flutes ready to be filled. Sam was her Mr. January. Pondering her promise to add something techy to his backdrop, she figured it would be simple enough to have him studying something on an iPad.
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