One Summer Night

by Caridad Piñeiro

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  Copyright © 2017 by Caridad Piñeiro Scordato

  Cover and internal design © 2017 by Sourcebooks, Inc.

  Cover design by Michael Rehder

  Cover images © Mayte Torres/Getty Images, Jacob Wackerhausen/Getty Images

  Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks, Inc.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  All brand names and product names used in this book are trademarks, registered trademarks, or trade names of their respective holders. Sourcebooks, Inc., is not associated with any product or vendor in this book.

  Published by Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc.

  P.O. Box 4410, Naperville, Illinois 60567–4410

  (630) 961–3900

  Fax: (630) 961–2168

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  Contents

  Front Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  A Sneak Peek of What Happens in Summer

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  About the Author

  Back Cover

  Chapter 1

  Sea Kiss, New Jersey

  Tracy Parker was in love with being in love.

  That worried her best friend and maid of honor, Maggie Sinclair, more than she cared to admit.

  In the middle of the temporary dance floor, Tracy waltzed with her new husband in a satin-and-lace designer gown, gleaming with seed pearls and twinkling sequins. But the sparkle dimmed in comparison to the dreamy glow in Tracy’s eyes.

  The sounds of wedding music competed with the gentle rustle of seagrass in the dunes and the crash of the waves down on the beach. The fragrance from centerpiece flowers and bouquets battled with the kiss of fresh sea air.

  Connie and Emma, Tracy’s two other best friends and members of the bridal party, were standing beside Maggie on the edge of the dance floor that had been set up on the great lawn of Maggie’s family’s beachfront mansion on the Jersey Shore. Huddled together, Maggie and her friends watched the happy couple do a final whirl.

  “She’s got it so bad,” Maggie said, eyeing Connie and Emma with concern past the rim of her rapidly disappearing glass of champagne.

  “Do you think that this time he really is The One?” Connie asked.

  “Doubt it,” Emma replied without hesitation.

  As the DJ requested that other couples join the happy newlyweds, Maggie and her friends returned to the bridal party dais set out on the patio. Grabbing another glass of champagne, Maggie craned her neck around the gigantic centerpiece piled with an almost obscene mound of white roses, ice-blue hydrangea, lisianthus, sheer tulle, and twinkling fairy lights and examined the assorted guests mingling around the great lawn and down by the boardwalk leading to the beach.

  She recognized Tracy’s family from their various meetings over the years, as well as some of Tracy’s sorority sisters, like Toni Van Houten, who in the six years since graduation had managed to pop out a trio of boys who now circled her like sharks around a swimmer. Although the wedding invite had indicated No Children, Toni had done as she pleased. Since Tracy had not wanted a scene at her dream beachfront wedding, Emma, who was doing double duty as the wedding planner for the event, had scrambled to find space for the children at the dinner tables.

  “Is that Toni ‘I’ll never ruin my body with babies’ Toni?” Connie asked, a perplexed look on her features. At Maggie’s nod, Connie’s eyes widened in surprise, and she said, “She looks…happy.”

  A cynical laugh erupted from Emma. “She looks crazed.”

  Maggie couldn’t argue with either of their assessments. But as put-upon as their old acquaintance seemed, the indulgent smile she gave her youngest child was positively radiant.

  Maggie skipped her gaze across the gathering to take note of all the other married folk. It was easy enough to pick them out from her vantage point on the dais, where she and her friends sat on display like days’ old cakes in the bakery. They were the last three unmarried women in an extended circle of business and college acquaintances.

  “How many times do you suppose we’ve been bridesmaids now?” Maggie wondered aloud. She finished off her glass and motioned for the waiter to bring another.

  “Jointly or severally?” asked Connie, ever the lawyer.

  “Way too many,” replied Emma, who, for a wedding planner, was the most ardent disbeliever in the possibility of happily ever afters.

  Maggie hadn’t given marriage a first thought, much less a second, in a very long time. She’d had too many things going on in her life. Not that there hadn’t been a few memorable moments, most of which revolved around the absolutely worst man for her: Owen Pierce.

  But for years now, she’d been dealing with her family’s business and its money problems, which had spilled over into her personal finances. As she gazed at the beauty of the manicured grounds and then back toward her family’s summer home, it occurred to her that this might be the last time she hosted a celebration like this here. She had mortgaged the property that she had inherited to funnel money into the family’s struggling retail store division.

  Unfortunately, thanks to her father’s stubborn refusal to make changes to help the business, she spent way too much time at work, which left little time for romance. Not to mention that none of her casual dates had piqued her interest in that direction. Looking down from her perch, however, and seeing the happiness on so many faces suddenly had her reconsidering the merits of married life.

  “Always a bridesmaid and never a bride,” she muttered, surprising herself with the hint of wistfulness in her tone.

  “That’s because the three of us are all too busy working to search for Prince Charming,” Connie said, her defense as swift and impassioned as if she
were arguing a case in court.

  “Who even believes in that fairy-tale crap?” Emma’s gaze grew distracted, and she rose from her chair. “Excuse me for a moment. Carlo needs to see me about something.”

  Emma rushed off to the side of the dance floor, where her caterer extraordinaire, Carlo da Costa, raked a hand through his thick, brown hair in clear frustration. He wore a pristine white chef’s jacket and pants that enhanced his dark good looks.

  Emma laid a hand on Carlo’s forearm and leaned close to speak to him, apparently trying to resolve a problem.

  “She doesn’t believe in fairy tales, but her Prince Charming is standing right in front of her,” Connie said with a sad shake of her head.

  Maggie took another sip of her champagne and viewed the interaction between Carlo and Emma. Definitely major sparkage going on, she thought.

  “You’re totally right,” she said with an assertive nod.

  Connie smiled like the proverbial cat, her exotic green-gold eyes gleaming with mischief. “That’s why you hired me to represent your company as soon as I finished law school. Nothing gets past me.”

  “Really? So what else do you think you’ve seen tonight?”

  Raising her glass, her friend gestured toward the right of the mansion’s great lawn, where some of the fraternity brothers from their alma mater had gathered. One of the men slowly turned to sneak a peek at them.

  “Owen has been watching you all night long,” Connie said with a shrewd smile.

  “Totally impossible, and you of all people should know it. Owen Pierce has absolutely no interest in me.”

  She set her glass on the table to hide the nervous tremble of her hand as her gaze connected with his for the briefest of moments. Even that fleeting link was enough to raise her core temperature a few degrees. But what woman wouldn’t respond like that?

  In his designer tuxedo, Owen was the epitome of male perfection—raven-black hair, a sexy gleam in his charcoal-gray eyes, broad shoulders, and not an ounce of fat on him, which made her recall seeing him in much, much less on a hot summer night on Sea Kiss Beach. She had been staying in the quaint seaside town on the Jersey Shore with her grandmother that summer, much as she had all her life. As they also had for so many years, the Pierce boys had been residing next door for the entire season.

  The two beachfront mansions had been built side by side decades earlier, before the start of the Pierce and Sinclair rift. The cost of waterfront real estate had escalated so drastically since their construction that neither family was willing to sell their beloved home to put some distance between the warring clans.

  Well, make that the warring fathers, because as far as Maggie was concerned, she had no beef with Owen. They had played together down on the beach as kids. She couldn’t count the many sand castles they’d built or the time they’d spent out in the surf.

  But after her mother had died, things had changed, and the carefree spirit of those halcyon days had disappeared. The Pierce boys had stopped coming down to the Shore for the next few years, and combined with the loss of her mom, it had created an emptiness inside her that hadn’t really gone away.

  By the time the Pierce brothers returned years later, the feud had gotten worse, and Owen and Jonathan had been instructed to stay away. But an ill-timed and half-drunk kiss with Owen on a moonlit summer night had proved that staying away was impossible. It had also helped the emptiness recede for a bit. Since then, Fate had seemed to toss them together time and time again in both their business and personal lives, keeping alive her fascination with him. She felt not quite so alone when he was around, not that she should get used to that.

  Owen Pierce had left her once before when she’d needed his friendship the most: right after her mother’s death. His on-again, off-again presence in her life proved that she couldn’t count on him.

  Owen stood next to his younger brother, Jonathan, who couldn’t be more different. While Owen was clean-cut and corporate, Jonathan had the scruffy hipster look going on. It was appealing in its own way, but not to her.

  “Trust me, Maggie. Your families might be at war, but Owen would clearly love to sleep with the enemy,” Connie said.

  She blew out a frustrated sigh. “More reason to avoid him. You know I’m not the kind to sleep around.”

  Emma returned, color riding high on her cheeks, but not in a good way.

  “Something wrong?” Maggie asked.

  Emma kneeled between the two of them and whispered, “It seems the groom had a bit too much to drink and Tracy caught him being hands-on with an old flame.”

  “Not Amy? Tracy always lost it if she spotted him with Amy,” Maggie whispered.

  “Definitely Amy. Now Tracy is refusing to come out and cut the cake. I have to say, this takes the cake, literally. Married a few hours, and already there’s trouble.”

  “Ever the hopeful romantic, Em,” she kidded.

  “If you think you can do better, why don’t the two of you come help me talk Tracy off the ledge?”

  * * *

  With keen interest, Owen Pierce took note of the three women as they hurried away from the dais and into the Sinclair mansion.

  “Put your eyes back in your head, Bro. She’s nothing but trouble,” Jonathan warned in low tones.

  Owen bit back the retort that if anyone knew about trouble, it was his brother. Jonathan had always marched to a different drummer and had set out on his own as a teenager to explore what he wanted out of life. Now a successful entrepreneur, he had captured the media’s attention with his innovative designs and daring adventures. That left Owen to shoulder most of the burden of the family’s real estate business, as well as deal with his father’s anger over Jonathan’s latest newsworthy escapade.

  He envied his brother’s carefree spirit and determination, especially as Maggie Sinclair marched back onto the patio with her friends, an angry bride, and an obviously inebriated groom. Both the bride and groom looked far from happy as they approached the elaborate, multitiered wedding cake that had been wheeled out to the middle of the makeshift dance floor.

  He worried the bride might plunge the long knife she held into her new husband, but luckily for the newlyweds, Maggie directed the blade toward the cake.

  Jonathan playfully elbowed him. “Seriously, Owen. She’s not for you. Father declared the Sinclairs off-limits ages ago. He would have a stroke if he thought the two of you were involved.”

  Involved with Maggie Sinclair, Owen thought and sighed with regret.

  In a way, he’d been involved with her forever. He’d like to chalk it all up to a sloppy, hurried, and stolen kiss at eighteen and the allure of forbidden fruit. But since that kiss, he’d watched her mature into a smart, beautiful woman. One who was willing to work hard for the town and business she cared about as well as friends and family. With every encounter, he’d grown more intrigued with the person Maggie had become.

  But his father had come down hard on them about mingling with the Sinclairs right after Maggie’s mother’s death. For years, they’d been unable to come to their Sea Kiss home, and even when they’d returned, they’d done so without their father, who refused to be so close to the family he thought had wronged him.

  Not that Owen expected that Jonathan would kowtow to such rules, since his brother was the kind of man who didn’t hesitate to take what he wanted.

  He arched a brow and met his brother’s blue-eyed gaze, which glittered with a mix of undisguised challenge and amusement. “Do you think you’re the only one entitled to a little adventure in your life?” he said.

  Jonathan chuckled. “My kind of adventure is way safer than what you may be considering.”

  “Why’s that, Li’l Bro?” he asked, appreciating the sight of Maggie in a dusty-rose gown that hugged dangerous curves. Her chestnut-brown hair fell to her shoulders in soft waves and framed ice-blue eyes and a sassy, sexy face t
hat snared his attention every time he saw her.

  Jonathan took a last sip of his champagne and barely stifled another laugh. With a shake of his head, he replied, “Because all I risk is an occasional broken bone, but that…” He jerked his head in Maggie’s direction as she stepped back beside Connie and Emma. “That will break your heart.”

  Chapter 2

  The bride and groom had departed hours earlier for their honeymoon. The guests had lingered to enjoy the beautiful midsummer day at the beach but had cleared out shortly before midnight. Connie and Emma were staying for the weekend, as they had so many times before. The two of them and Maggie had sat on the patio, sharing a final glass of champagne and listening to the peaceful lullaby of the ocean. The sweet noise of the sea had swept away the tension and stress of the day. One by one, with a simple wave and smile, they’d gone their separate ways to their bedrooms.

  Maggie was finding it hard to sleep with all the thoughts rampaging through her brain. Image after image of profit and loss statements raced through her mind followed by scenes of out-of-business signs on their storefronts.

  She cursed, threw back the covers, and slipped out of bed, intending to walk off the disturbing thoughts. Jerking on jeans, a T-shirt, deck shoes, and a hoodie to fight the chill that sometimes swept in along the shore, she stole out of the house like a thief in the night. Outside, the susurrus of the ocean beckoned to her.

  At the end of the great lawn, she strode across the short boardwalk and down to the beach, pulling the hoodie closed against a strong ocean breeze and a misty fog that had settled all along the beachfront. She paused to look back at the home she loved so well. The fog had shrouded the mansion, making it nearly disappear. For a moment, it was almost as if she had already lost the place she loved so well.

  Swiping at an errant tear, she tucked her head down and walked the familiar way southward, but as she did so, the faint scent of cigar smoke caught her attention. She glanced around and, in the dim light of an almost moonless night, saw the glowing tip of the cigar and the shadow of a man sitting on the steps of the boardwalk leading to the Pierce family mansion.