As they ate, their conversation drifted to more innocuous topics — the hotel, Madeline and Justin Pope. Brioney had to wonder, if she and Blue didn’t make a go of this, would he still be pursuing her after all that time, with Justin’s same determination??
“He comes in every day, drinks his coffee, watches the waves and waits for her to talk to him. She’s so stubborn, she won’t give him the time of day.”
“I know Justin. He lives out at the artist colony. A sculptor, I think. He’s retired from something big in San Antonio. Banking or oil or something.”
“Well, he’s got his eye on Madeline, for some reason.”
“Maybe he should stop coming in, see if she notices.”
“I think that might be smart. I think her feelings might be hurt. I think she kind of likes the attention.”
“Maybe I should give him some pointers.”
“What would you tell him?” she asked, smiling across the table at him.
“Well, you know, maybe sit in her line of sight, sit in her station, force her to acknowledge him.”
“Was that your plan? Sitting in my line of sight at The Wharf?”
“Worked, didn’t it?”
She stuck her tongue out at him. He bent to retrieve something else out of the basket, and set a large sandwich on a croissant between them.
“They told me you don’t like ham, but I’m hoping chicken is okay.”
God, he went to so much trouble. She watched his long, nimble fingers unwrap the plastic, and he tore the sandwich in half, which made some of the tomatoes fall out. She laughed when he grunted and shoved them back in. He held the larger half for her, and she reached for the smaller half, the binding on her heart loosening a little. She’d agreed to come out with him, but in her mind she’d been ready to dismiss him, to find enough fault that she could walk away.
But now…her heart was taking her in a different direction.
After they finished the sandwich and wiped away the crumbs, she pushed back from the table. “I can’t eat anything else right now.”
“We’ll save the chocolate strawberries for later.” He pushed back his chair, and held out a hand to her. “Come on up.”
“Up where?”
Instead of replying, he tugged her toward the pilothouse. The space was small, and he wedged her in front of him as he pressed the button to lift the anchor.
“Where are we going?”
“Going to teach you how to drive my boat.”
She looked over her shoulder at him and smiled. “You need someone to fill in every now and then?”
“Maybe.” He drew the word out, and his breath was warm on her neck as he nestled in a little closer than necessary. He took her hand and guided it to one of the levers. “This takes us forward, and the farther you push it, the faster it goes.” He nudged her hand to push the boat forward, then let his touch fall away, giving her control.
She pushed it a little farther, the roar of the engine rising, the water churning beneath them. The wind lifted her hair and she laughed, and pressed the lever even farther.
“Am I going too fast?” she asked as the boat skimmed the surface of the water.
“You’re doing great.”
He curved his hand around her waist and pressed a little closer. Was he holding on, or just using the momentum as an excuse to be near her? She took advantage and urged the boat a little faster. Behind her, Blue braced his feet a little wider apart, and held her against him.
She allowed herself to lean back against him, just a little, and let him hold her as they sped across the water. Then he reached around her and brought the lever back toward them, slowing the boat.
“Probably before we go that fast again, I should show you how to steer.”
His mouth was so close to her ear, his lips brushed against the shell. She went perfectly still for a moment, savoring the sensation before she turned her head.
He didn’t move back, and she took the encouragement to turn in his arms. She lifted her chin, just a fraction, to meet his mouth with hers, his lips soft and dry, just for a moment, before his mouth parted and he deepened the kiss.
She closed her hands around his biceps as he pressed her against the control panel. His own hands slid up and down her back, molding her against him, his body hard and warm. She could feel his desire rise, and a thrill ran through her, both longing and nerves. She wasn’t ready to give herself to him, knowing her heart would follow, but the idea of making love to him made her whole body tight with a tension only he could relieve.
She eased back, breaking the kiss, and looked into his eyes.
Too fast, too soon.
“You were going to show me how to steer.”
*****
Blue held Brioney’s hand as he walked her to the door of her cottage. The evening had been a success. After the boat lesson, they had returned to the deck and indulged in chocolate strawberries, then more kissing. He still felt her shivers as she nestled against him, and he’d been so tempted to take her below deck and make love to her. But he’d waited so long, he wasn’t going to sleep with her on their first date. When he took her to bed, she was going to love him, be ready for a future with him.
She stopped at the door and turned to him. Of course she wouldn’t invite him in, not with her daughter sleeping inside.
“Thank you for the boat lessons,” she said, stepping close, smiling up at him.
“I’d be happy to expand on them, any time you want.” He brought her against him and kissed her, one more time, before she pulled away and went into the house.
*****
“I can’t watch Joy Friday night,” Brandon told Brioney before he’d even closed the door behind him.
She paused in the middle of chopping broccoli and turned to face him. “What? Why?”
He dropped his gaze to the knife, which was still poised. “Hey, Sis, you want to put that down?”
She did, deliberately. “Why can’t you watch her?” Her mind already spun with possibilities of who would watch Joy so she could go to The Wharf and sing.
“I’m going to a football game with friends.”
She couldn’t help it. She stared at him, her skinny brother with the dyed black hair, the pierced ear, the chains and the thick rows of bracelets on both arms, the gamer black T-shirt and skinny jeans. She knew his friends, and they dressed much the same way, kind of ridiculous when they lived on an island that was hot most of the year. “A football game.” The way his gaze shifted, and she knew. “Who is she?”
“There’s no one.”
But he didn’t meet her eyes, and if she knew anyone, she knew her brother, had raised him since their father died of cancer when she was sixteen. If he didn’t look at her, he wasn’t telling the truth. She pushed the cutting board away and braced both hands on the counter.
“You are not exactly full of school spirit. Who is she?”
“Ah, no one you know.”
He’d gone to school with most of the same kids since kindergarten, so chances were she’d know her. She flipped through any new arrivals to town, and then it hit her.
“Colleen…something. Blonde. Cheerleader. Cheerleader,” she repeated.
He blushed, and she knew she’d nailed it. She wanted to say more, but didn’t want to tease too hard. She’d been wary of the lifestyle he’d chosen, thinking he lived too close to the edge. The music he listened to, the clothes he wore, the movies he watched, sometimes they scared her, that he was too interested in death, and she didn’t know how to draw him away without making him long for it even more. If Colleen, even the idea of Colleen, could do it, more power to her.
Of course her worries would have to change to something else altogether—heartbreak, the possibility that he’d follow her in the teen parenthood club.
Jesus, this parenting thing wasn’t for sissies.
“Okay. Do you need money? For tickets or anything?”
“Um, sure. I know they sell food there, too. Are you sure you’re
not mad? I know you want to sing at The Wharf.”
“I’ll figure something out. And if I don’t sing this week, it’s not the end of the world.” Though it would feel like a hole in her week. She wondered if there were any teenagers not going to the game. “Who’s going with you?”
“Jocelyn said she’d go with me.”
Jocelyn. She liked Jocelyn. She was the most grounded of Brandon’s friends. She liked Jocelyn’s parents.
It was hard for her to fit in with the other parents. They looked at her as a kid, so much younger than them, even though she felt eons older, with the responsibility of her brother and her daughter. She did wish she could turn to someone for advice sometimes, but none of her friends had kids.
“Well, you want to wash up and help me fix dinner?”
He looked at her for a moment, as if he’d expected more of an argument, then pushed away from the counter and went to wash up.
*****
Blue walked into The Wharf and was surprised to see Brioney wasn’t on stage. The place was oddly quiet, and he turned and addressed Sal behind the bar.
“Where’s Brioney?”
“Couldn’t get a sitter tonight, so she called in. Too late for us to get a replacement for tonight. You play?”
“Nah.” He drummed his hands on the bar. “If I can get her in, can she still play tonight?”
Sal lifted a shoulder. “No one’s going to stop her.”
“Right. See you, Sal.” And he bounded out the door.
He pulled up in front of the happy little bright blue cottage and shut off the bike. The flickering light in the front window told him they were probably watching TV. He bounded up the steps to rap on the door. A few minutes passed before Brioney opened, cautiously.
“Blue. What are you doing here?”
“I went to The Wharf and you weren’t there. Sal said you needed a babysitter, so here I am.”
She opened the door wider and motioned down at herself. “I’m already in my pajamas. But thanks.”
“So go get dressed. I’ll sit with Joy a few hours, you go sing.”
“They won’t want me to come in so late.”
“I asked. They don’t care.”
“Right. They don’t care if I come or not.”
“But you do.” He stepped up into the house. “You need this. Look, you know me, you can trust me. I get along with her. Go get dressed, get your guitar and get down there.”
“Why are you doing this?” she asked, closing the door behind him, her gaze searching his face.
“Because I know what it means to you to play every Friday.” More than it meant for him to go and hear her. He turned to Joy, who was on the couch. “Are you okay with this? If I stay with you while your mom goes to sing?”
“I’d promised her a girls’ night,” Brioney said uncertainly.
Blue noticed the nail polish on the coffee table next to the bowl of popcorn and the cans of soda.
“I don’t mind a chick flick now and again. And I can paint nails. I used to paint your aunt’s nails.”
“Mom, he’s right. You love to go sing. You’re always happier when you do it,” Joy piped up from the couch. “I’ll stay with Blue. We’ll have fun. But you don’t have to paint my nails. Mom can do that tomorrow.”
He chuckled and turned to Brioney. “What do you say?”
She looked from her daughter to him indecisively.
“I won’t be long. An hour, maybe two. One movie’s worth.” She backed toward her bedroom, and disappeared behind the door.
Blue crossed the living room to sit in the arm chair, within arm’s reach of the popcorn. “You sure this is okay with you?”
“You’re right, she feels better after she sings.”
“She’s good at it. And it makes people happy. She always liked to sing.”
“I didn’t remember you’ve known her a long time.”
He glanced toward the bedroom. “Maybe I shouldn’t tell any of her secrets until after she leaves.”
“Tell me Jess’s secrets, then.”
“You want me to dish on your aunt.”
“Well, I know you were together a long time. I don’t know why you broke up.”
“Ah. Well. She wanted a career in Austin, and she didn’t really like that I didn’t, that I wanted to come back here. We broke up.”
“But if she loved you, what did it matter?”
A question he had asked himself a thousand times. “I guess she figured we’d have a hard time making a future, and raising a family if she couldn’t depend on me.”
“But she could depend on you, if she loved you, and you loved her. I mean, isn’t that what people are supposed to do?” She glanced toward the television screen and the movie that had been paused.
Great, he was ruining the illusions of a little girl who still liked to watch princess movies. “Maybe it was just that we weren’t meant to be together. Maybe we were meant to be with someone else.”
At that moment, Brioney walked out of her bedroom in a pretty flowered dress that flowed above her knees. She’d braided her hair over her shoulder and put on a bit of eye make-up and lipstick, and his heart may have stopped.
Sure, he’d seen her like this on other nights at The Wharf, but for some reason, seeing her in her own home like this hit him harder. She gave him a tentative smile and picked up her guitar case.
“Thanks, Blue,” she said. She leaned over the back of the couch to kiss her daughter, and he felt a little bereft that she didn’t kiss him, too. “I’ll be back soon.”
And she walked out the door.
*****
Joy didn’t make it all the way through the movie. Since she’d been quoting and singing along, he could only figure she’d seen it a time or two, so he let her sack out. He considered carrying her to bed, but he didn’t know the routine, so he covered her on the couch and made sure she didn’t have a crick in her neck. He took the remote from her hand, turned down the volume and started flipping through channels. He didn’t have cable himself, wasn’t home enough to watch, so was delighted by the offering of hers. He found a preseason NBA game, turned the volume down a couple more notches just to be sure he didn’t disturb Joy, and settled back.
A while later, he heard fumbling at the door and bounced up to help Brioney come in.
But when he swung the door open, it wasn’t Brioney who stood there.
It was Fitz, her brother.
Chapter Four
“What are you doing here?” Fitz asked, shoulders squared, shoving through the door with his duffel first.
“Watching Joy for Brioney while she sings.”
“While she sings?” Fitz dropped the duffel in the entrance of the living room and braced his hands on his hips.
But his belligerent stance fell away when Joy screeched, “Uncle Fitz!” and vaulted over the back of the couch to fly into his arms.
Fitz folded his big arms around his niece and lifted her against his broad chest, squeezing her in arms with biceps nearly as big around as Joy was. Yeah, if Fitz wanted to take exception to Blue being here, well, Blue couldn’t defend himself. The guy was a soldier, after all.
“We didn’t know you were coming,” Joy said into her uncle’s neck, answering Blue’s unspoken question.
“I wanted it to be a surprise.” He set Joy down and braced his hands on her shoulders. “Where’s your mother and Brandon?”
“Brandon is at a football game and Mom is singing at The Wharf,” Joy replied.
“Singing?” Fitz asked again, then, “Brandon’s at a football game?”
“Mom thinks he likes one of the cheerleaders.”
“Brioney sings at The Wharf every Friday night. She’s really good,” Blue said.
“Which leads me back to my question. Why are you here?”
“Brandon usually watches Joy, so Brioney wasn’t going to go sing, so I said I’d watch her.”
“Why you?”
Blue pulled back from that one. Brioney didn
’t want Jessamy to know yet, and probably didn’t want Fitz to know either. “We’re friends.”
“Friends,” Fitz repeated, his gaze drilling into Blue’s.
Blue wouldn’t look away.”Yes.”
“Seems an odd choice, considering your history with our family.”
“Not my choice.”
“As I recall, it was.”
“The life Jessamy wanted wasn’t the life for me.”
“If you loved her, you could have made it so.”
“How many women have you changed your dreams for?” Blue countered.
“Your dreams? To come back here and run a boat for tourists? That was more important than my sister?”
Blue lifted an eyebrow that Fitz knew what he’d been doing with his life. “Jessamy isn’t pining for me. She’s got her life, and I’ve got mine.”
“And you want to include Brioney in it?”
Blue was aware of Joy watching avidly. “Brioney and I are close.”
Fitz narrowed his eyes. “How close?”
“Close enough that she trusts me to watch her daughter.”
The front door opened and the sound of a guitar striking wood echoed through the small house. A dark blur crossed between them and Fitz staggered backward under his sister’s exuberant embrace.
“Why are you here? Why didn’t you tell me? I would have been here!” Her words tumbled over each other as she ran her hands up and down his arms. “Are you home? Are you home for good?”
“I am. I’m home. You got a place for me?”
“Of course. Of course! I can sleep with Joy, and you can have my room. I’ll go get it ready right now.” She released him to head down the hall, but he caught her arm.
“No hurry. And I don’t want to put you out of your room. Come on, sit down, tell me about singing at The Wharf.” He looked over her shoulder at Blue.
Which apparently reminded her that Blue was here. She turned, a guilty expression on her face.
Summer on Main Street Page 47