Accidentally Family

by Sasha Summers

  And then there was Di. He’d texted her after the bonfire—told her Lane was a dick and she could do better and since their parents were hooking up she needed to get used to him being a pain-in-the-ass big brother. She’d texted back “Fuck off.” Then texted “Okay. Cool. I’m good with that.”

  “Hey, man.” Owen sat on the blanket. “Hey, Jack-man.” He high-fived the toddler and chuckled. “Love the shades.”

  Nick bought Jack a pair of plastic aviators so they could match, and Jack wore them constantly. “He looks cool. Like his big brother.”

  “They here yet?” Owen asked.

  Nick shook his head. His sister, Owen, and Aunt Charity were all on board with the whole Mom and Graham thing. Now all they had to do was get his mom and Graham here, and hopefully they’d take it from there.

  “But Di knows this is where to be?” Owen asked.

  “I told her. We always camp in front of the flagpoles.” They came to the same spot, year after year. Granddad said it was the best view. Nick leaned back on his elbows, trying to relax. It wasn’t working. “She’ll get him here.”

  If Diana wanted something, nothing was going to stop her. She wanted this. Her dad was in love with his mom; she knew it. According to her, he was sad and missed being with her—and the family—a lot.

  Besides, as Diana liked to point out, as soon as they got their folks together, she went from being an only child to having two brothers and a sister. Which, Nick had to admit, was cool. Diana was messed up, but that was who she was. She was going to be a hell of a complicated sister, but she’d fit right in.

  If this was what his mother wanted.

  Honor arrived, a lemon freeze in each hand. “Here ya go.” She offered one to Owen and Nick swiped the other. “Hey, that was to share with Jack.”

  “I’ll share with him,” Nick said, spooning some of the tart sweetness into Jack’s mouth.

  Jack’s lips tightened with a loud smack. His hands waved and his little face screwed up into a ridiculous expression, making them all burst out laughing. Jack laughed, too.

  “What did I miss?” Mom joined them, sitting between Owen and Jack. “What’s so funny, Jack-man?”

  Jack grinned a sticky grin and clapped his hands.

  Nick, still laughing, held up the lemon freeze.

  “You did not feed him that?” his mother asked, digging in her monster purse for a wipe. “Nickie, that’s too tart for him.”

  “He liked it,” Nick managed.

  “You’re terrible.” She shook her head, but she was smiling.

  When she smiled, everything felt like it was going to be okay. He really wanted that for her. For her to be more than okay. He wanted her to be happy. “You look pretty, Mom,” he said, really looking at her.

  “Thank you.” He’d surprised her, in a good way. “You’re sweet.”

  “Being honest.”

  “He wants something, Mom,” Honor cut in. “Look at that face. He is up to something.”

  Nick shot her a look. He was up to something, and she knew it.

  “Are you?” his mother asked.

  He shrugged. “I might have rented a paddleboat for later. Maybe this time, we’ll make it back without a tow.”

  “Story?” Owen asked, sliding his arm around Honor and leaning forward for a scoop of lemon freeze.

  “The last time he rented a paddleboat…” His mom shook her head. “Though, to be fair, it was his grandfather who rented it. He was supposed to take Nick out, but he had a few too many beers and ended up with a killer headache. Nick’s dad was on call, and I wasn’t about to disappoint my son, so I decided I’d do it.” She sighed.

  “We almost got to the middle of the lake when the cotton candy and corndogs and lemon freeze kicked in.” Nick nudged her. “I started puking all over and crying.”

  “He wouldn’t let me move—to paddle back in—so I’m floating around, covered in gunk.” She laughed. “You were so pathetic Nickie.”

  “Where were you?” Owen asked Honor.

  “I was sitting right here with Mimi and Grams, making s’mores and laughing at them.” She covered her mouth.

  “Who gave you a tow?” Owen asked.

  “Dr. Murphy,” he and Honor answered in unison, and both of them glanced at their mother.

  She was staring at the wipe, twisting it in her hands, a smile on her face.

  “He’s always been around?” Owen asked.

  “Always,” Honor agreed. “He’s the sort who sticks, you know?”

  “Like me?” Owen asked, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

  It still floored him that Owen was this into his sister. The dude was…his hero. Honor was his sister. Which meant it was awesome because they might be family someday. Or he’d have to kick his hero’s ass on behalf of his sister.

  Or not.

  They didn’t talk about it, but they all knew what was coming. In a few weeks, Honor was going off to college and Owen would be at boot camp. That was going to hurt both of them. Like, really hurt. It sucked that they waited so long to get together, now that they were both leaving.

  “Speak of the devil,” Honor said, pushing Owen aside and standing up. “Diana! Hey,” she called out, waving her hands.

  Finally. Nick relaxed, ruffling Jack’s curls and glancing at his mom.

  “Honor.” His mother shushed her, casting a nervous look his way.

  “It’s cool, Mom,” he said, catching her hand in his. “We’ve got room.”

  She chewed on her lower lip—it was what she did when she was stressing out. He was the reason she was stressing out.

  “Hey.” Diana was out of breath. “Hi. Happy Fourth of July, people.” She dropped to her knees. “Jack. How’s it going? Cool shades, little dude.”

  “We match. My idea.” Nick grinned.

  “He looks good. You?” Diana wrinkled her nose and shrugged. “Looks like you’re trying to be like him.”

  “I got the cup-stacking thing down.” Nick pointed at Jack’s handiwork.

  Diana laughed, peering back over her shoulder. “Dad. You coming?”

  Graham Murphy was taking a hell of a long time with the unpacking. Stalling, maybe? “What did you bring?” Nick asked, pushing off the blanket. “I’ll help.” He headed across the sand to the grass, then the parking lot beyond. “What can I carry?”

  “I’m good.” Graham held a small ice chest and towels, shouldering the straps for two beach chairs. “Thanks.”

  “Here.” He took the chairs. “We’ve got room. Diana’s there.” He headed off before the man could argue. Because he was going to argue.

  Chaos ensued while they rearranged the canopy, making sure everyone had shade and room, doling out drinks, then rearranging the chairs so that everyone would see the fireworks when they started.

  Graham didn’t say much. But the way he looked at his mom—it said enough. His mom was all jumpy and red-faced, trying to avoid Doc Murphy, both tense, barely looking at each other or talking to each other. Because of Nick. He felt like shit. He’d done this to them. In a sick, twisted way, it was seriously cool that they’d sacrifice their happiness for him.

  He’d messed this up. Tonight, he was going to fix it.

  …

  Graham threw some dry sticks on the fire he was building, watching the embers dance to life. The sun was going down, and the fireworks would start soon—just not soon enough. He’d missed Felicity, and this was killing him.

  Every time her green eyes met his, he was reminded of all that could be and should be between them. Their kids together like this, laughing and teasing, made it that much harder. Because he loved them all. Felicity, yes, but her kids, too. He’d missed them all.

  “You’re awful quiet,” Diana said, nudging him. “What’s up?”

  He smiled. “Thin
king.”

  “About what?” she asked. “Right this second, spit it out. Don’t think.”

  He laughed. “The fire.”

  She frowned. “What about the fire?”

  “Is it big enough for s’mores?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re so full of shit.”

  “Di, language.” He glanced at Jack, close enough to hear.

  “Fine. You are full of piles of poo.”

  He laughed again.

  “You want to leave?” she asked, her enthusiasm wavering.

  He shook his head.

  “Liar.” She sighed.

  “What is he lying about?” Nick asked, offering him a soda.

  Graham took the can. “Thank you.”

  “What he’s thinking about,” Di answered.

  “Can I talk to you about something, Dr. Murphy?” Nick asked, catching him by surprise. “Alone, Di?”

  Di’s brows rose. “Is this the talk? Go easy on him, Dad. He’s young and innocent and all.” She headed back to the canopy.

  “She’s something,” Nick said.

  Graham nodded, curious—and wary as hell. Still, if Nick needed someone to talk to, he wasn’t going to turn his back on him. “What’s up?”

  “You know being a teenager sucks, right?” he asked.

  Graham laughed. “I remember, though it’s been a while. Just so you know, being a teenager’s parent can suck, too.”

  “I owe you an apology, I think.” He cleared his throat, running a hand through his blond curls. “You like my mom?”

  Graham froze. Was this a trick? Diana had taught him just how dangerous questions could be. Nick wasn’t as manipulative as his daughter, or as desperate, but he had more than his fair share of rage. And if his answer was going to trigger an episode here and now, he wasn’t sure what the hell to say.

  “I mean, you love her?” Nick’s voice was low, a little shaky.

  He looked at the boy. This was important to Nick—knowing.

  “Like, love love her?” Nick pushed, jaw clenching.

  With a sigh, he gave up. “I’m in love with your mother,” he clarified, a little more firmly than he’d intended. “Very much.”

  Nick blew out a long, slow breath. “I thought so. And I got in the way.” Nick raked the sand with his toes. “I really screwed up. I’m sorry for being an asshole, Dr. Murphy.”

  “Graham,” he corrected him, the weight he’d been bearing since he’d left Felicity easing a little.

  “Graham.” Nick nodded. “I’m super protective, you know? She’s special—not just because she’s my mom. And my dad… He destroyed her, almost. She wants us to think she’s tough, and she is, but still, you have no idea. She cried all the time. Every night. What he did—” He broke off.

  Graham nodded. “He hurt you all.” There was not a damn thing he could do to change that. But he’d do everything he could to help him move past it. But that’s not what this was about. This was a son needing confirmation that Graham loved his mother—that he got how special she was. And Graham did so he said, “He gave up the best part of himself when he let her go.”

  Nick’s eyes searched his, a sad smile forming. “Yeah.”

  He blew out a deep breath. “I’ll never do that to her.”

  “I know.” Nick nodded. “I know you’re always going to love her. And take care of her. And be there for her.”

  He nodded. “For all of you, maybe.”

  “Maybe?” he asked, frowning.

  “We haven’t really talked about a future, Nick.” He shook his head. “You know more than she does.”

  “Oh.” Nick glanced at his mother. “No shit?”

  He laughed. “Nope. I have no idea how she feels or what she wants.”

  “Well, that sucks.”

  “It does?” He couldn’t help but smile.

  “Yeah, I figured you two would work everything out, she’d be happy, and Diana would get off my back.”

  “Diana?” His gaze drifted then. Di was lying on her stomach beside Jack, his stacking cups piled up on her head.

  “She’s all pumped about moving into our house.”

  “How do you feel about that?” he asked.

  “If Mom’s happy, and you don’t screw it up, I’m fine with it.” He shrugged. “Just don’t screw it up, okay? She can’t go through that again.”

  None of us can.

  It was unspoken but there—Nick, trusting him to love his mother and take care of his family. Graham’s heart thumped heavily, humbled beyond words. “I promise.”

  “Nick,” Honor yelled. “We’re going to get Jack’s face painted.”

  “And ice cream,” Diana sounded off.

  “Coming.” Nick handed him a paper ticket. “Here, I got the six thirty time slot. Girls like that sort of thing, right?”

  Graham glanced at the ticket. “Paddleboats?”

  “It’s a start, Doc—Graham.” He winked and ran back to the canopy. “Hey, Aunt Charity, bring the graham crackers?”

  “Yes. They were the only reason you invited me, weren’t they?” Charity teased, hugging Nick.

  From here, he could see the slight swell of Charity’s stomach. Once her family wrapped their head around it, she’d have more support than she knew what to do with. Knowing Charity, she’d rely on Felicity. She was everyone’s rock. He knew that loving her meant loving them all. But loving him meant taking on Diana. No denying it—he was getting the easier deal.

  “Graham.” Charity waved, heading his way. “Are you the keeper of the fire?”

  He glanced at his watch. “I got it started. Can you keep it going?”

  “Me?” She eyed the small blaze. “Um…”

  “Please?” he asked, glancing Felicity’s way.

  Her eyes went wide, and she smiled. “Does your request have anything to do with publicly wooing my sister?”

  “It might.”

  She took the long stick he’d been using to stir the flames and crouched on the sand. “Off you go. Make me proud, Graham.”

  He winked at her. “Thanks.”

  Felicity sat, staring out over the lake. The breeze lifted her strawberry-blond curls, making them dance around her neck and shoulders. But the tension in her posture had him suspecting she was just as aware of him as he was of her. With any luck, that meant she loved him the way he loved her.

  …

  She was too old to feel this way. Nervous. Excited. Achingly aware of the man talking to her sister. Apparently, all that was required to send her heart thumping was his presence. His dark-haired, broad-shouldered, warm-smiling presence. And when he laughed, it warmed her from the inside.

  She missed his laugh. She missed talking to him. She dreamed of being in his arms with the beat of his heart beneath her ear.

  “Felicity?” Owen offered her an ice cream. “Honor said it’s your favorite.”

  “Thanks.” She took the cone, the scoop of mint chocolate chip already dripping along the waffle crust.

  “No prob.” He flopped onto the blanket.

  She smiled at the boy. He was a man, really. A man who made her daughter happy. “When do you ship out?” she asked.

  “One week.” He swallowed hard, the muscles in his throat working. “I was all fired up and ready.”

  “Not anymore?” she asked.

  He looked at Honor. “I don’t want to leave her.”

  She still wasn’t used to his honesty. “She’s leaving, too, you know.”

  He rested his arms on his knees. “Not for another three weeks. That’s fourteen more days than what we’ve got now.”

  “Then it sounds like these seven days need to count triple.” Her brows rose. “You better write to us. And when you get back, I expect us to be the second stop you make.”

  “B
ecause I’ll be heading to Austin first?”

  She nodded, unwilling to ding the confidence of first love. It was fierce and passionate, she knew that. She’d married hers. But time and separation could take a toll, and she didn’t want either of them to feel bad if it didn’t last. The memories they made this summer were special, no matter what.

  “Thanks for letting me be part of your family, Mrs. Buchanan. With my dad deployed and my brother…having a life, it’s been nice.”

  She reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “We tend to nag, get in each other’s business, tell each other what to do now and then. And we have little to no respect for personal space and quiet time. Fair warning.”

  “Sounds perfect to me,” he murmured, his gaze following Honor as she steered Jack’s stroller along the water’s edge. With a grin, he pushed up and ran down the beach to join them.

  Honor smiled at him, tilting her head back for the kiss Owen gave her. It was quite a kiss. Intimate. Too intimate for a mother to watch, so she stared at her ice cream, running her tongue along the cone to catch the drips before they landed on her bare legs. A slight tilt of the cone and the scoop rolled off and splatted into her lap.

  She squealed and jumped up to wipe the cold stickiness from her legs. “Oh, great.”

  “You okay?” Graham was there, his concern vanishing when he saw the smear of green running along her leg. “Ice cream incident?”

  She laughed, awkward. Nick was close. The day was going so well; she didn’t want to jeopardize it. But she couldn’t exactly ignore him. She didn’t want to. “You could say that.” With the ever-useful pack of wipes, she managed to make her legs mostly ice cream–free, babbling, “The mosquitoes will love me.”

  He smiled then. Oh, how she loved that smile. The real one that made the corners of his eyes crease.

  And he stared at her, hard. “I have this.” He held up a ticket. “For six thirty.” He pointed at his watch. “Which is in five minutes. If you want to ride with me.” He never looked away.

  “Ride?” she managed, a little breathless.

  “Paddleboat.” He’d moved closer. “Will you go with me, Felicity?”