by Beck, Jamie
Mitch leaned close. “All that public speaking in Europe paid off.”
“Good. I’d rather it pay off here than anywhere else.” While the waitstaff began setting white-peach tarts on the table and pouring coffee, Peyton watched Claire and Logan pore over the pages she’d put together. “I think Claire likes it.”
“I’m sure she does.” Mitch held her hand beneath the table, turning Peyton’s attention away from her continual effort to win Claire over.
His thumb stroked her palm, shooting tingles up her arm. She looked into his intent eyes, which appeared softer and dreamier tonight. Her chest filled with such warmth it made her yearn for more than a casual fling. Could she trust her heart this time?
Mrs. McKenna said, “Well, don’t hog the album. Pass it around!”
Peyton’s mom interrupted. “This seems like the perfect time to play a little game.”
Logan groaned. “Game?”
“The Nearlywed Game.” She made eye contact with one of the waitstaff, then made some hand gesture he apparently understood. “Now don’t fuss, Logan. You know I don’t enjoy inane games, but we had to do at least one activity to mark this as something other than a dinner party.”
Peyton covered her mouth for a second, stunned. Her mother never did anything like this, not even when she’d thrown children’s birthday parties.
“My family loves games.” Claire beamed. “How do we play?”
The caterer returned with two book-size whiteboards and markers, then handed them to Claire and Logan.
“We all take turns asking the couple a question, and each of them has to answer for the other on the whiteboard. Then they’ll share those answers and we’ll see how well they know each other.” Darla smiled at everyone.
Oooh. It felt a little like a trap to Peyton, but Claire smiled with confidence.
Logan downed a large swallow of coffee before grabbing the marker. “Best be on my toes.”
“I’ll start,” their mom said. “Logan, if Claire were being served her last meal, what would she order?”
Logan barked a laugh and wrote his answer lickety-split. Claire tried to peek, but he turned his back to her. “No cheating. You know I need to win.”
“Okay, Claire . . . what would you order?” Darla asked.
“Be honest,” Logan warned Claire before she spoke.
She wrinkled her nose, then covered her eyes for a second, mumbling, “Something from the candy aisle at any grocery store.”
Peyton’s mother’s eyes registered surprise, but those who knew Claire better nodded and chuckled. “Logan, let’s see your board.”
He turned it around wearing a cheshire grin. It read “The Sugar Factory’s inventory.”
Steffi broke in. “I don’t know . . . I think you ought to be more specific. Reese’s or brownies with walnuts top the list.”
“I think Logan got close enough.” Peyton clapped, thinking he got a softball question. She then leaned toward Mitch. “What’s yours?”
He tapped his chin. “I’m not sure, but I can guess yours.”
“Can you?” That caused an irrational bloom of pleasure to fill her lungs.
“That amatriciana in Rome.”
She squeezed his hand. “Good answer!”
Steffi called out, “My turn, my turn!”
Darla sat and nodded, so Steffi turned to Claire. “Which of your physical attributes does Logan like best?”
“I know this!” Claire smiled while writing her guess.
“Too easy,” Logan acknowledged.
“Okay, Logan, let’s see if it’s as easy as you think,” Steffi challenged.
“Her eyes, of course. Beautiful, kind, and full of emotion.” He kissed Claire’s nose.
Claire reversed the board, which confirmed Logan’s response.
“Want to know one of my favorite things about you?” Mitch whispered.
A little shiver went through Peyton, mostly because she still didn’t quite like or trust her body these days. “Sure.”
“Your calves.”
“What?” She laughed.
“I’ve been obsessed with them from the beginning.” He reached down and traced a finger along the back of one, sending a flurry of sparks up her legs.
Her heart beat faster from his touch and seeing him loosen up. “I like you buzzed on bourbon and wine.”
He raised his wineglass at her before downing its contents. The irreverent yet intense way he looked at her now made every part of her body shiver with anticipation.
“My turn.” Mrs. McKenna joined the game. “And this is an important question.”
Everyone fell silent because of her solemn tone. “Claire, how many babies does Logan want?”
“Whoa!” barked Benny. “That didn’t take long.”
While everyone else laughed, Peyton reached down to place her hand above her angel tattoo.
Mitch whispered, “You’re frowning.”
Peyton forced a smile at the same time Claire twisted her lips in thought and wrote down an answer.
“Logan?” Mrs. McKenna asked.
He’d been drumming the table with his fingers, so he rolled his hand over with a shrug. “Four, maybe five.”
Everyone gasped. Even Claire’s eyes bulged as if his hair had changed color.
“Claire, you’d better get cracking soon so you and Steffi can commiserate,” Ryan teased, before Steffi smacked him in the chest.
Claire and Peyton both stared at their friend while blurting some version of “Are you pregnant?”
Steffi elbowed her husband before conceding. “We weren’t planning to say anything until tomorrow. This is your celebration.” She gestured to Claire.
“Sorry.” Ryan grimaced. “I forgot no one knew. Too much wine.”
But Claire was all smiles. “This is happy news. I’m glad it came out tonight.” She then looked at Logan and revealed her board, which read “two.” “I love you . . . but five?”
“I’m sure we can find a compromise, as long as we keep practicing.”
“Logan.” Their mom rolled her eyes.
Peyton knew she should feel nothing but joy for her friends. She did, mostly. But being fun Aunt Peyton seemed like a distant second place, assuming she’d even be around to watch Logan’s children grow.
“Oh, Darla, won’t it be wonderful to have little grandchildren soon?” Mrs. McKenna’s voice vibrated with glee.
Peyton closed her eyes when Mitch leaned close, half expecting him to continue playing his private version of the game with her. If he, like Logan, wanted a big family, it’d be yet another thing she might not be able to give him, even if she got the all clear to try after another year or two cancer-free.
“Are you feeling okay?” Mitch asked.
“Mm-hm,” she lied. “But I’ll be right back . . .”
Peyton wanted to slip away without being noticed, but her chair scraped against the stone, drawing Logan’s attention. He knew. She saw it in the apology in his eyes. That made it worse because the very last thing she wanted was to cause him any regret or guilt about looking forward to his future.
“Peyton?” her mom called.
“Carry on!” Peyton didn’t look back when she waved a hand in the air. “I’ll be right back.”
Peyton had been missing for a while—her dessert untouched—yet no one but Mitch seemed concerned. He was standing on the outskirts of the crowd, staring across the lawn at the water, when Claire approached him from behind, her mahogany cane in tow. Her diminutive size belied the strength it must’ve taken to rebuild her life after the gunshot wound that permanently injured her hip, and to have forgiven Peyton enough to be planning a life with Logan.
“How are you enjoying your first Prescott party?” When Claire smiled, he understood why Logan loved her blue eyes.
“It’s like something from a movie.” He reached up and fingered part of the gauzy drape blowing in the breeze. “Very different from my normal life.”
Her gaze swept fr
om the tableful of flowers to the sea. “It can be quite intoxicating.”
“Just like Peyton.” He grinned at the sudden mental image of Peyton’s smile.
Claire’s bright eyes flickered with the barest hint of pain. “Yes, she can be that, although that’s not always been a good thing for others.”
“Or for her, from what I’ve heard.” He trod lightly, but she’d opened the door. Maybe he could learn something that would help Peyton.
“This is true.” Claire bit her lip. “So she’s told you about Todd?”
“Only enough to express her regret about how she hurt you and ruined your friendship.”
“Ah.” Claire remained collected, her expression serene. “Well, life goes on and we all adjust the best we can.”
He crossed his arms without saying much.
“You disagree?” Claire studied him like she was searching for Waldo in one of those busy drawings.
Obviously his expression had betrayed his thoughts. “Well, you make it sound static—like you get to a point and then decide, boom, that it’s ‘the best’ it can be.”
She glanced at her cane. “Sometimes we have to accept limitations.”
“As long as we don’t resign ourselves to saying we’ve done our best when the truth is that we’re unwilling to risk going that extra step.”
Judging by the flat set of her mouth, he might’ve said too much. He glanced over his shoulder toward the door Logan had gone through to check on his sister. Mitch wished they’d both come back to the party before he made things even worse for Peyton.
“Wondering what’s keeping them?”
“Hm?” He returned his attention to Claire.
“Logan and Peyton?”
He hadn’t heard the first part of her question, so he still didn’t know what to say.
“They often get absorbed in their own little world. I’m an only child, so I can’t quite relate to their relationship, but I think their special bond formed young because their parents were often embroiled in other things. This past year in particular, Logan’s been desperate to help Peyton get her life back on track.”
Mitch nodded. “She’s been through a lot.”
“She has, so I give lots of room to their relationship. If you have a serious interest in Peyton, you’ll have to make room for Logan, too.”
“Sounds crowded.” Mitch finished the wine in his glass.
Claire smiled coyly. “Perhaps if she finds someone she can count on as much as Logan, she won’t rely on him as much. I think he’d relax if he believed she was in good hands.”
“It almost sounds like you’re proposing an alliance.” Mitch grinned.
“Ha!” She laughed. “Maybe that’s not a bad idea, but I’d only consider it if you’re a good guy. Are you . . . a good guy?”
“I think so.” Despite her display of aloofness, her question told him she cared about what happened to Peyton. “Enough about me. Let’s talk about the party. Did you like the photo album? I was with Peyton when she picked it up.”
“It’s beautiful—a very touching gesture. She’s been full of them this past year.” Claire hugged herself against the breeze. “I know she wants our old friendship back, but it can’t be what it was.”
“I think she knows you can’t go back, like she knows she can’t go back to who she was before cancer. But couldn’t a new friendship end up stronger and more honest because of the pain you’ve worked through?”
Claire didn’t get to answer, because Logan and Peyton returned to the party, at which point Logan tugged Claire to his side.
“I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to be a party pooper,” Peyton said to Claire. She turned to Mitch. “Or to leave you stranded.”
“It’s fine. Claire kept me company.” He smiled at Claire, certain he’d made headway with his last remark.
“That makes you the lucky winner.” Logan then kissed Claire’s head. “But now I’m going to steal my girl back and start making our goodbyes so we can continue our celebration in private.”
Claire elbowed him, but her smile suggested that she was as eager as Logan to put his plan in motion. He hugged Peyton goodbye and shook Mitch’s hand.
Before they wandered away, Claire said, “Peyton, I really appreciate the thought behind the album. I look forward to filling it up, starting with pictures from this party.”
Peyton’s smile knocked Mitch’s heart sideways like always. “I’m glad.”
Claire nodded and then followed Logan toward their parents.
As soon as they were far enough away, Peyton whirled around on him, eyes narrowing. “Did you say something to Claire?”
“We were just talking.”
“About what?”
“Life.” He shrugged, eager to avoid getting into the details. A few couples were dancing at the end of the patio. “Should we dance, or take a walk?” Mitch gestured toward the dock that stretched into the Sound like a pointer finger.
“Maybe we should visit with Steffi, Ryan, and Ben. We didn’t get much opportunity before dinner.”
He’d be happy to get to know her friends some other time, but like Logan, he’d had enough of the group and wanted some time alone with Peyton. “If that’s what you’d rather . . .”
She bit her lip, gaze zooming from the guests to the sea and back.
“I suppose no one would miss us for a while.” She held his hand and followed him down the lawn.
They made their way to the built-in bench of the sturdy wooden dock. Water lapped against the pilings, the sea’s surface reflecting diffused light from the house and the moon.
“Be honest, what did Claire say to you?” Peyton prodded.
He thought about the conversation and chose something that might cheer her up. “She was sizing me up to see if I’m good enough for you.”
“Ha!” Peyton playfully slapped his chest. “She doesn’t care enough to do that.”
“I’m telling the truth. She wanted to know if I was a good guy, and she told me that, if we got serious, I’d need to make plenty of room for Logan in our life.” Then he took a lesson from Logan’s playbook and pulled her against his side. “I want you to know that I didn’t follow you inside earlier because I thought you wanted to be alone. When Logan went after you, I wondered if maybe I thought wrong.”
“I didn’t mean to overreact, but the baby stuff blindsided me. I left the table because I didn’t want to spoil everyone’s excitement.” She stared at the horizon. “Every time I think I’ve gotten past selfishness or envy, I catch myself reverting to old behavior.”
Her hair blew about her face, so he tucked it behind her ear. “It’s not selfish to feel sad or scared when you don’t know what your future holds.”
“It feels selfish when it interferes with my happiness for the people I love. And I do love Steffi, and Logan and Claire. I want them to have beautiful, healthy babies.”
“I’m sure they know that, Peyton. You’re very hard on yourself—expecting to be superhuman and never feel envy or grief.”
She looked away. “Guess I’m a work in progress.”
“Like the rest of us.”
She shrugged, heaving a heavy sigh. “So did the party meet your expectations? Did you like my friends?”
“Everyone is very nice. Even your parents weren’t as scary as you painted them. It must’ve been idyllic growing up in such a close-knit community.”
“Yes, although it didn’t prepare me well for the real world . . . or for hardship. Maybe that’s why I’m struggling to figure out what comes next for me.”
“For starters, you could stop putting yourself down. You fought a hard battle. You’ve written an acclaimed book. And now you’ve won the affection of this amazing guy who’s really into you . . .” He chuckled, hoping to make her smile.
Instead, she looked him dead in the eye. “Are you? And don’t answer too fast, Mitch. Starting any relationship is sort of terrifying to me, so please be honest.”
The vulnerability in her exp
ression made her more beautiful. He held her face in his hands so she couldn’t avoid his gaze. “I’ve broken all of my rules to be here with you because I want to see where this could lead. To test whether our differences can bring out the best in each other. Or if we can reach a point where you’ll turn to me when you’re upset instead of your brother.”
“Even though you know my . . . situation?”
Presumably she meant her uncertain health, although she never brought that up with him. He dropped his hands and squeezed hers. “You don’t even ‘know’ your situation.”
“But let’s say this thing between us grows. I know I’m facing years of tests and can’t even think about starting a family for a while, if ever. You seem like a guy who wants to be a dad.”
He sat back, giving her point its due respect. “I’ve already been like a father for most of my life, so it isn’t something I daydream about. For now, my baby is List Launch. If, someday, kids come into the picture, I’d welcome them, but I’m not yearning for them. And if I ever do, there are many ways to create a family and lots of kids who need a home. But why jump way ahead already? I could’ve sworn you spent the last several weeks preaching about living in the moment. Did we switch roles somewhere over the Atlantic?”
She acknowledged his point with a half-hearted smile. “I guess maybe part of me wants something steady to cling to right now because everything else feels unsettled.”
“Who could be more steady than Optimus?”
“That’s true.” A grin lit her face before she threw herself into his arms and held tight.
He closed his eyes and let his breath rise and fall with the rhythm of the gentle waves rolling onto the shore a dozen yards away. Peyton was usually so strong that he could dismiss the fear she still lived with and would continue to feel for some time. He wouldn’t allow his own thoughts to go to those dark places tonight.
Under the tent of a night sky strung with twinkling starlight, he put his faith in a fairy-tale ending.
Chapter Sixteen
“Well, that went well, didn’t it?” Peyton’s mother asked when she returned to the patio after seeing the last guests out.
“Very well done, dear,” her dad replied, sipping another bourbon. “Now we can relax and let Claire and her family plan the wedding.”