Their Secret Summer Family (The Bravos 0f Valentine Bay Book 7) Read online

  And they were friends. They had been friends before the night they ended up in his bed together.

  The question was, would they still be friends when this crazy, hot thing between them burned itself out?

  * * *

  Thursday, Grace was at home in the cabin when Dante called at twenty minutes to noon.

  She saw it was him and answered with one word. “Yes.”

  “Fifteen minutes.” His voice, low and rumbly, caused every nerve in her body to snap to excited attention.

  “I’ll be naked.”

  And she was. Their second nooner was even better than the first.

  Friday, Gracie picked up the girls from day camp again. They stopped at the beach cottage on the way home for the finished Medieval Faire gowns.

  Saturday, the Faire opened. Gracie wouldn’t be going. She had to open at the Sea Breeze.

  But early that morning she went to Dante’s house for breakfast with him and the girls. Dante made them all waffles and eggs and then Gracie took Nic and Nat back to the cabin. She braided their long brown hair—French fishtail braids, woven with shiny ribbon to match the gowns that Harper had made. Since it was a costume event, Dante had grudgingly given permission for the girls to wear light makeup.

  Grace supervised the application of cheek and lip color and mascara, too. They put on the gowns and the soft Mary Jane–style shoes Harper had found for them on Etsy.

  “Gorgeous. Both of you,” Gracie said, when they all three piled into the tiny bathroom so the girls could admire themselves in the full-length mirror that hung on the back of the door.

  “Wow! These dresses turned out so good,” said Natalie, her pretty face aglow. “Better even than I was hoping for.”

  Nicole, wide-eyed, nodded in agreement. “The braids are so beautiful.”

  “You are absolutely beautiful—both of you,” Gracie said. Because they were.

  She took them back out to the main room and gave her phone a workout, snapping pictures from just about every angle as they happily posed and preened.

  They were the best, Nic and Nat. They brought it sharply home to Grace why people wanted kids. She could actually start to see herself with a husband and children—not now, of course. And no, not with Dante. He’d made it way clear it wasn’t going to be him.

  But the right guy. In time.

  “Let’s go show Daddy!” cried Nicole.

  “Right now!” agreed Nat.

  They trooped back to the main house, where Dante called them both beautiful. His voice was kind of gravelly, the way it got when something moved him. To Grace, he had that look—the look of a loving dad confronting the reality of how fast his daughters were growing up.

  She took more pictures, some with her phone and some with Dante’s. This time she had the girls pose on either side of their dad. All three of them were beaming, the girls out of pure happiness, Dante with such pride.

  Then Natalie insisted, “Gracie, we need you in a picture, too.”

  “Yes!” agreed Nicole. “We need pictures with you.”

  Grace handed Dante back his phone and hers, too, and he did the honors.

  After that, she got lots of hugs and thank-yous from both girls. She felt kind of sad to leave them, but she waved goodbye and returned to the cabin to get ready for work.

  * * *

  It was a gorgeous day, cool and clear with only a slight breeze. At the bar, Grace rolled up the wide garage-style door that led out to a big patio with a view of the beach and the endless blue ocean. She and Marianna, the waitress, set up the café tables and opened the umbrellas to shade them from afternoon sun.

  They opened at eleven. By noon, they were packed. The Sea Breeze had a small kitchen in back. They served bar food—sliders and nachos, potato skins and hot wings. Grace called Ingrid at 12:30 and she came in at a little after 1:00 to help out. For the next three hours, Grace worked behind the bar, setting up, mixing and pouring nonstop.

  When the crowd finally thinned out and she got a break, it was past four. She claimed her usual spot at the quiet end of the bar and Ingrid served her a tonic with lime and a nice big plate of nachos.

  “You sharing?” asked a familiar deep voice behind her.

  A thrill zinged her through her, just at the sound of his voice. She had it bad for him, no doubt about it. “Maybe.”

  Dante took the stool next to her and signaled Ingrid, who brought him a clean plate and his favorite pale ale. “I was kind of hoping I might catch you in a quiet moment.”

  “And you did.” She was so glad to see him. It made the sweetest ache under her breastbone, to have him right there beside her. You’d think it had been months instead of a few hours since she’d left him and the girls that morning. He wore the same light blue T-shirt he’d had on then. The shirt showcased his big arms and ripped chest.

  And she needed to quit staring at him like she’d rather have him than her nachos. She took a long sip of tonic. “What did you do with my two favorite medieval princesses?”

  “One of the day camp moms took them to her house with her daughter and my niece and a couple of other girls. I got a call from my sister-in-law just before we left for the Faire, inviting them. There’s a pool, evidently. They took their swimsuits and a change of clothes when we left the house. They’re having a swim party and then hot dogs for dinner. I’ll pick them up at eight.”

  And that meant he had three hours or so to himself.

  Too bad she had to work until seven. “So, how was the Faire?”

  “Packed with people.”

  “Excellent. A big success, then?”

  He ate a chip, nodding. “Nat and Nic loved every minute of it. They were in the minstrel show and they demonstrated medieval dances they’d learned in day camp.”

  “I wish I could have been there.”

  “I’ve got pictures.” He beamed a proud-father smile.

  “Show me.”

  He got out his phone and handed it over. As she scrolled through the shots of his beautiful daughters at the Medieval Faire, he leaned close. “Come home with me.”

  She wanted to. So bad. “Can’t. Gotta work.”

  “Secret flings are a pain in my ass,” he muttered.

  So let’s just go public, she longed to suggest.

  But she only went on looking at the pictures and munching her nachos. She already wanted so much more from him than he was willing to give.

  And she was far from ready to chance losing what she had of him on the off chance he might suddenly be willing to give her more.

  Chapter Eight

  The next day, Sunday, Dante took Nat and Nic to his parents’ house for Sunday dinner. All four of his brothers were there. Pascal and Tony brought the wives and kids. Marco, at twenty, was still single. And Mac, the baby, had turned nine months old the week before. Aly, Connor and baby Emelia had gone to Daniel Bravo’s this Sunday. Gracie had said she would be at Daniel’s, too.

  Dante sat at his mom’s long dining room table and ate her amazing pot roast and fantasized about what it might be like if he had Gracie beside him. It was only a dream. He knew it. And he’d never been much for dreamy imaginings.

  But lately, well, sometimes he couldn’t help himself. And being dreamy about Gracie felt damn good.

  He wore a smile on his face a lot more than usual lately. No, he didn’t get enough time with her. But when he did, he made every minute count. And when he had to leave her, he had the next time with her to look forward to. Even when he couldn’t be alone with her, he saw her coming and going along the graveled road that ran by the house, saw the lights on in the cabin and knew she was in there. At least a couple of times a week, he lured her onto his deck after dark so they could hang out together for an hour or so, talking about whatever they had on their minds while simultaneously trying to keep their hands off each other.


  His brother Pascal elbowed him in the ribs and muttered out of the side of his mouth, “Mom’s talking to you.”

  He turned his head to meet his mother’s blue eyes. “What, Mom?”

  “I said, you look like a man in love.” Catriona O’Leary Santangelo beamed him a wide, beautiful smile. “It’s a good look on you, Dante.”

  “No clue what you’re talking about.” His mother was too damn perceptive by half—not that he was in love with Gracie. He was just...

  Okay, he wasn’t sure what to call it. Crazy. Wild. Out of his mind for her. All those things. It was called chemistry and it felt like nothing else because the chemistry with Gracie?

  Off the freaking charts. Like no chemistry he’d ever experienced before. It helped him to understand the power of the attraction between Aly and Connor—and his own mom and dad.

  But, as he continually reminded himself, for him and Gracie, it wasn’t the kind of thing that was meant to last. She was young with a lot to do in her life, and he was divorced and set in his ways. It was only for right now and it was amazing. And somehow, when it was over, he would find a way to keep his friendship with her.

  “What’s her name?” asked his mother as she picked a slice of cooked carrot out of Mac’s hair and set it back on his high chair tray.

  “Oooo-bah!” crowed Mac. He grabbed the bit of carrot and shoved it in his face.

  And Dante’s mom was still looking right at him, waiting for an answer. The whole table was a little too quiet, he thought.

  His dad came to his rescue. “Leave the man alone, Cat,” said Ernesto with a chuckle. “Whatever he’s dreamin’ about, he’s not sharing it at the dinner table.”

  * * *

  Both Tuesday and Wednesday of the following week, he joined Gracie in the cabin in the early afternoon. With Gracie, each time was better than the last.

  Life was good. So good that he was much more patient when his daughters compared him negatively to the wonderful, perceptive, thoughtful, permissive Roger.

  So good that when Marjorie and Roger arrived on the third of July, he happily grilled them all burgers out on the deck and felt only minimal resentment toward the stepfather his girls adored. Gracie had to work that night. She left the cabin at around five thirty, shortly after Roger and Marj arrived. They were all out on the deck and he was firing up the grill when her RAV4 emerged from the trees.

  “Grace!” Marj called. She said to Roger. “I haven’t seen her in years.” She got up and ran down the side steps to intercept the RAV4. Marj leaned in Gracie’s window. He could hear their voices faintly, though not the words they exchanged. The sound of Gracie’s laughter floated on the breeze, causing a tightness under Dante’s breastbone, a rising feeling full of heat and tenderness. He wished she could blow off the Sea Breeze for the night, come have burgers on the deck with him and the family.

  And there was nothing out of line about wishing that. Because they were not only lovers on the down-low, they were friends.

  Roger, at the table, asked, “So, new tenant?”

  “Gracie? Yeah, she’s using the cabin for as long as she needs it.” It just felt weird, to talk about Gracie with Roger—but then, talking about anything with Roger always felt weird to him. “She’s a good friend.” And so much more. Not that Roger was ever going to know that.

  Nic, who knelt on the deck boards brushing Owen with her Princess Jasmine hairbrush, started in about the Medieval Faire and the costumes Gracie had arranged for her sister to make for them.

  Nat, at the table next to Roger, chimed in with praise for Gracie—and her sisters, Harper and Hailey, too.

  Over in the driveway, Marj stepped back from Gracie’s car. She waved and Gracie drove away. Dante felt bereft.

  Was he ridiculous?

  No doubt about it.

  “You seem a little...pensive.” Roger was still looking at him.

  Marj chuckled as she dropped into the chair on Roger’s other side. “Darling, don’t analyze my ex.” It was a command. Marj was so perky and bossy with Roger, like a whole different woman from the one Dante had once been married to. It was kind of disorienting. He felt glad she was happy, but found it strange to see this other, more assertive side of her, nonetheless.

  “Sorry, my love.” Roger leaned in. They shared a quick kiss, after which Nic and Nat dragged them both into the house. A moment later, he heard Nat singing “Let It Go” at the top of her lungs.

  Owen, stretched out on the deck not far from the table, lifted his head and let out a howl, just singing along.

  * * *

  The next day, the Fourth, Dante and the girls met Marj and Roger for a late breakfast at the Tufted Puffin Café down in the Valentine Bay Historic District. They wandered around window-shopping for a while and then watched the parade, which consisted of floats created by local organizations and businesses and various service vehicles. Once that was over, Marj and Roger went off on their own. Dante took Nic and Nat to his brother Tony’s for a family barbecue.

  At nine thirty that night, they arrived at Valentine Beach, where they met up with Marj and Roger and just about everybody else in town. Dante brought a couple of blankets and his ancient boom box.

  Launched from a barge offshore, the fireworks started at ten. The local radio station played music synchronized to the display. Dante turned his boom box to the right station, as did at least a hundred others up and down the beach. It was quite the extravaganza.

  His daughters sat on either side of him, staring up at the night sky, transfixed. Marj leaned her head on Roger’s shoulder. Kind of a perfect end to another Independence Day.

  Except...

  Dante’s mind wouldn’t stop straying to thoughts of Gracie. She had the closing shift again at the Sea Breeze. He wanted to get out his phone and send her some silly text, just to let her know he was thinking of her.

  But she was working and probably wouldn’t check her phone for hours yet anyway. And the girls and Marj and Roger were bound to notice if he got on his phone in the middle of the fireworks.

  They weren’t a couple, him and Gracie. He needed to keep that thought firmly in mind. If she was here with them right now, he would have to play it strictly friends only, because those were the rules he himself had laid down. He wouldn’t even be able to put his arm around her, let alone steal a kiss as “Born in the USA” filled the air and bottle rockets exploded overhead.

  And come on, even if she’d had the day off, she very well might have planned to meet up with her sisters and brothers or a couple of girlfriends. He had no real claim on her and he needed to remember that. It was only for now and that was how they both wanted it.

  “Hey, guys...” As if he’d conjured her straight from his own out-of-control fantasies, there she was, wearing a Sea Breeze T-shirt, white Chucks and white jeans, that sleek waterfall of platinum hair in a high ponytail. She grinned down at them.

  “Gracie!” his daughters cried in gleeful unison.

  “Happy Independence Day.” Marj beamed up at her, and Roger gave her a friendly nod of greeting.

  “Sit with us,” demanded Nat.

  As a sparkly globe of purple light burst open in the night sky and Katy Perry’s voice blared from the speakers up and down the beach, Nicole jumped up, grabbed Gracie’s hand and pulled her down to the blanket. “Isn’t it beautiful?” Nicole leaned into her.

  Gracie fondly nudged Nic’s shoulder with her own. “Spectacular.”

  It just so happened that Dante was on Gracie’s other side. He almost didn’t dare to look at her for fear that all his aching, confused emotions would show on his face.

  Really, it wasn’t supposed to be like this, not for him. He understood himself, knew too well his own hotheaded nature and had spent most of his adult life trying to keep a lid on it. Injustice and insults, bad stuff some people did to others—all that got to him more than it did
to the average guy. He was one of those men who could fly off the handle, go off like a human bottle rocket if he didn’t make an effort to keep his emotions under strict control. He’d learned to carefully consider just about every move he made. He tried to do the right thing, take good care of his girls and just generally lead a useful, productive life.

  And until that fateful night a month ago when he’d invited Gracie over to cry on his shoulder, he thought he’d been doing a pretty good job of all that.

  But now...

  Well, how did she do it—give him all these damn feelings? He’d never trusted feelings. Too often, they made people do stupid things.

  And he was being doubly ridiculous now, acting like a twelve-year-old with his first crush. He’d wanted her here with the burning fire of a thousand suns. And yet somehow, now that she was sitting right next to him, he’d yet to so much as say hi to her, let alone glance over and meet her eyes.

  Carefully, he turned his head.

  She was looking right at him, a slow, devilish grin curving those perfect, shell-pink lips. He got a whiff of her perfume, equal parts sweet and tart. It sent a spike of heat straight to his groin. He drew his legs up and wrapped his arms around his knees to disguise his response to the barest hint of her scent.

  “Back at the Sea Breeze, everyone’s out on the patio watching the fireworks,” she said. “Ingrid gave me an hour-long break.”

  “I’m glad,” he heard himself say.

  One sleek eyebrow lifted. “About what?”

  Holding eye contact seemed dangerous. He glanced upward as bright balls of light with thick, glittery tails shot upward from the water, fanning out as they rose. The opening strains of “The Star-Spangled Banner” swelled on the cool evening wind.

  She nudged him with an elbow.

  He leaned into her and whispered, “I’m glad that you’re here.”

  She laughed, the sound filling him with equal parts joy and pain. It was like nothing he’d ever known before, to feel the way she made him feel. He hated it.