A Bravo for Christmas Read online

  Ava enjoyed her lunch and the easy conversation and forgot about the time until she glanced at her watch and discovered it was already half past one. She had to get moving.

  “I’m sorry. The time got away from me.” She whipped out her wallet and pulled out the cash she needed to cover her bill and a nice tip. “I’ve got an open house in half an hour, and I need to get Sylvie to the Blueberry clubhouse.”

  “We’ll take Sylvie,” Chloe volunteered. “Annabelle is going over there, too.”

  “And put your money away,” said Quinn. “This is our treat.”

  “I couldn’t—”

  “Don’t argue.” Quinn, who’d once been a martial arts champion, used his tough-guy voice.

  Ava thanked him.

  Darius said, “I’m going over to work on the dollhouses, too.”

  Quinn gave a dry chuckle. “Right. They can’t do anything over there without the Blueberry king.”

  Darius smirked. Ava had never cared much for men who smirked. But somehow, on Darius, a smirk looked just fine. “You think you’re funny, little brother. But it’s true. I’m indispensable—and Sylvie and Annabelle can ride with me.”

  “Yes!” exclaimed Annabelle.

  “We want to ride with Darius!” Sylvie chimed in.

  “Terrific,” said Ava, and meant it. “Works for me.” She pushed back her chair. “Sylvie needs her booster seat.”

  “I’ll walk out with you and get it.” Darius took her coat from the back of her chair and held it up for her.

  In the parking lot, he led the way to the Suburban. He pulled the backseat door open and took out the booster.

  “I really appreciate this,” she said.

  He turned and gave her one of those looks that made her wish they were alone someplace with a bed—scratch that. Who needed a bed? Any reasonably flat surface would do. “You’re welcome.” He spoke in that low, rough tone that made her want to do all kinds of naughty things to him and then have him turn right around and do them to her.

  “Well, then...” Her voice sounded way too husky. And she didn’t have time to sound husky. She had an open house in twenty minutes.

  But then he lifted the hand that wasn’t holding the booster, making the move very slowly, giving her plenty of time to duck away.

  Yet she didn’t duck away. On the contrary, she swayed toward him, her yearning for him stronger than her usual good sense. He brushed a slow caress along her cheek.

  She should have been annoyed that he’d done that in public, but all she could think was she wished he’d do it again and this time that he’d also slide his fingers around the back of her neck, that he would pull her up close to him and kiss her until she couldn’t see straight.

  But he didn’t pull her closer. “Soon,” he said soft and low. And she stood unmoving, staring up at him, knowing she had to go, not wanting the moment to end. “Would you like me to kiss you, Ava?”

  Her throat clutched. She croaked out, “What? Here? Now?”

  He smiled then, slowly, a smile that made her think of tangled sheets and desperate, hungry moans. “Yeah, Ava. Here. Now.”

  And oh, my yes. She would. She would like him to kiss her. She would like that very much.

  But of course, a kiss right here in the Library Café parking lot would be carrying it one giant step too far. “Better not.”

  “You sure? I personally think all these rules of yours are pointless.”

  Pointless? She frowned up at him. Silly, maybe. Childish. But there actually was a point to her rules, and the point was to keep her family out of her business—and okay, maybe also to keep this thing that was happening between them from getting too real, from spinning scarily out of control.

  None of which she was even going to think about. After all, the whole idea of a fling was that you didn’t spend a lot of time thinking about it.

  If there even was a fling.

  Because so far, not so much.

  “My rules are not pointless—and yes, I’m sure that you shouldn’t kiss me now.”

  He stepped back. “Well, I guess I’ll just go on inside then.”

  She didn’t trust herself to answer. At a moment like this anything could come out of her mouth. She just might start begging him to kiss her, after all. So she made herself nod.

  The nod did it. He turned for the restaurant.

  She watched him walk away. Too soon, he vanished through the back door—and left her standing there staring after him like some dreamy-eyed fool. She shivered, drew her coat closer around her and turned to pull open the driver’s door.

  That was when she saw her parents, her brother and his family standing in a huddle by her dad’s Subaru five spaces down. Her mother waved and beamed her a big, pleased smile. Libby looked sheepish.

  Tom only scowled.

  Chapter Seven

  Seven Pines Mobile Home Park hadn’t changed much in the twenty years since Ava’s uncle helped her parents buy their three-bedroom manufactured home there. The sign at the entrance declared it “A great place to live.” And really, it wasn’t half bad. Each unit had a little square of lawn in front and a tiny deck. Many had pretty container gardens.

  Ava arrived before Tom and his family. Her other brothers, Pete and Brad, were already there. Pete and his wife, Laurie, had no children. Brad was divorced with two girls, both of whom were with their mom this particular Sunday.

  Sylvie loved coming to Gramma Kate’s. She helped set the table and babbled away about school and Annabelle, the Blueberries and how she couldn’t wait for it to be Christmas. Ava’s mom already had her small tree up in the corner of the living area, and Sylvie expressed her pleasure at the sight.

  Tom, Libby and the boys arrived and they all sat down to eat. Ava was feeling pretty good about the afternoon. Sylvie had so far stayed off the subject of her hero, Darius. And Kate had not given her one single meaningful look. Maybe she’d get lucky and make it through dinner without a sarcastic remark from Tom or yet another dose of well-meaning romantic advice from her mom.

  But her luck didn’t hold.

  Not five minutes into the meal, Tom said, “Pass the green beans, Ava—and what was that we saw yesterday in the Library Café parking lot with you and Darius Bravo?”

  Ava opened her mouth to tell him to butt out, but Sylvie piped up with, “I like Darius. He’s helping the Blueberries build special dollhouses for special children. He’s nice and he’s fun.”

  Ava smiled sweetly. “And mind your own business, Tom.” She handed him the beans.

  “Hold on a minute.” Pete looked confused. “Something’s going on between Ava and Dare Bravo?”

  Tom turned to Brad and opened his mouth to reply. But Libby must have kicked him under the table again. He stiffened and muttered, “Never mind.”

  Brad, who sat to Ava’s left, leaned close to her and asked, “Everything okay?”

  “It’s fine, honestly,” she said.

  Tom waited till dinner was over to come at her again. “Just give me a minute, okay? You and me, out on the deck...”

  “Tom, really. Can’t you just leave it alone?”

  He wouldn’t give up. “It’s not going to kill you to hear what I have to say.” So she put on her coat and followed him out there. He led her over to the corner farthest from the door and stuck his fists in the pockets of his bulky winter jacket. “Where to even start? Look, Ava. I just don’t want you to get hurt is all.”

  Ava kept her voice even and quiet. “I’m not a child anymore. There is nothing for you to worry about.”

  “Yes, there is. I know the guy’s a charmer, but that doesn’t make him a good guy.”

  “Tom. He is a good guy. Okay, he fired you eight years ago. And then when you punched him, he punched you right back. But come on. It’s old
news. You’ve got a good job now. You and Libby and the boys are doing fine. It’s time to get past all the crappy stuff that happened way back when.”

  He looked at her so intently, like he wanted to see inside her head and check for lies. “But are you past it? Really past it?”

  Ava’s mouth went dry, and her pulse ratcheted higher. “What, exactly, are you talking about?”

  “Don’t blow me off, Ava. You know.”

  She turned and leaned on the railing. “Wow. Okay, then.” Staring hard at the gray wall of the unit next door, she tried not to grind her teeth together. “So how far back are we going here?”

  “All the way,” her brother said gently.

  So she went ahead and reminded him, “I survived, Tom. I got over it. And I’ll always be grateful to have brothers who looked out for me when times were really tough. But now you have to step back and let me deal with my own life.”

  “Not if you’re messing it up.”

  “Even if I’m messing it up—which I’m not.” I hope. “I mean, can you just try to view this situation objectively, please? Dare Bravo’s got nothing to do with what happened to me in foster care when I was eleven years old. That you’re even trying to equate the two...” She shook her head. “You’re wrong, Tom. They do not equate. Not for me. If anything, what happened to me all those years ago has made it harder for me to trust a guy, to let him get close. It’s made me less likely to let anyone take advantage of me again in any way, ever. Maybe too much so.” She slid him a glance. He did seem to be listening.

  And then he let out a long breath and leaned on the railing beside her. They studied the gray wall of the other unit together. “Well, okay,” he said finally. “I see your point. Craig was a great guy. And he had to work his ass off to get you to even give him a chance.”

  She almost smiled then. “Now you’re getting it.”

  “But Ava, I know how you are. Please don’t take this the wrong way, because I respect how hard you work. Still, I know you want the good life.”

  She groaned. “Wonderful. Just when I’m starting to remember all the reasons I love you, you call me a gold digger.”

  “No, that’s not what I said.”

  “Oh, you so did.”

  “Just hear me out. It’s one thing to do business with the Bravos. I’m glad for you, I really am, that your partnership with Bravo Construction is a big success. But Darius is a bad bet. He never met a woman he could stick with. He mows them down and moves along.”

  “Mows them down? Tom, that’s just mean.”

  “You know it’s true. The guy’s in his midthirties and he’s yet to have a serious relationship with a woman.”

  “Wrong. He’s been engaged. Twice. First, to a girl he knew when he lived in Los Angeles and a few years ago, to a woman who worked at Ames Bank.”

  “He told you that?”

  “Yes, he did. Because we’re friends. And friends tend to have actual conversations about what goes on in each other’s lives.”

  He scoffed. “You and Darius. Friends.”

  “Isn’t that what I just said?”

  “I saw you in the parking lot yesterday. He was all over you.”

  “All over me? He touched my cheek.”

  “Exactly.”

  “You know, it’s really hard to take you seriously when you won’t stop exaggerating.”

  “Ava. That was not a friends moment the two of you were sharing. And you’re just asking for trouble if you think there’s a future with him. That guy will use you and dump you flat.”

  Oh, she was so very close. Right on the brink of telling her buttinsky brother the truth that if there was any using going on, she was the one doing it, that she was with Darius only for the hot sex.

  Potentially. Eventually. She hoped...

  But no. A revelation like that might be momentarily satisfying. In the long run, though, it would bring her nothing but grief. Tom just might freak if he knew that his precious baby sister could not wait to be Darius Bravo’s Christmas-only lover. Plus, the whole point of a secret affair was that her family wouldn’t be all over her case with warnings and advice—which was beyond ironic, now that she thought about it. The supposed affair hadn’t even started yet and already she was up to her eyeballs in warnings and advice.

  “I will say it once more, Tom. And then I’m going inside. Darius Bravo and I are casual friends and nothing more.” Yes, it was a flat-out lie. And she refused to regret telling it. “I would greatly appreciate it if you would show me a little respect. I’ve been running my own life for a long time now, and I am doing a damn fine job of it, thank you very much.”

  * * *

  Ava’s doorbell rang at five fifteen the next night.

  It was Darius, with one hand behind his back. “Nice wreath,” he said when she opened the door.

  “Thank you.” She glanced over her shoulder. No sign of Sylvie. Yet. She stepped out to the porch and pulled the door most of the way closed behind her. “What are you doing here?”

  “You’re shivering, Ava. You should go inside. I’ll come with you. In fact, I’ll even stay for dinner.” He brought that hand out from behind his back and showed her a pink-and-white bakery bag. “Cookies from Elise’s bakery. For dessert.”

  She shouldn’t be so glad to see him. It hadn’t been that long. About half an hour, actually. He’d been there when she picked Sylvie up at the clubhouse after the weekly Blueberry meeting. He almost trapped her in the supply closet again, but she ducked out just in time. And he hadn’t said a single word about appearing on her doorstep in the next thirty minutes.

  He leaned a fraction closer. “Let me in, Ava.” It was the same thing he’d said last week when he showed up without being invited.

  She glanced past his shoulder. “You parked your truck right out there in front of my house.”

  “Ava.” He wasn’t actually touching her. It only felt like he was every time he said her name. He could hold her prisoner using only the sound of his voice—a much too willing prisoner, as a matter of fact. “If you let me stay for dinner, I’ll move it around the block.”

  “Why bother moving it? My family saw us in the parking lot Saturday afternoon.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Oh, you are not—and you’re right. It’s cold out here. You’d better come in.” She pushed open the door again.

  And there was Sylvie, sliding to a stop in her stocking feet, her sweet face wreathed in smiles. “Darius! I thought I heard you out here...”

  He knelt to greet her. “I came for dinner and I brought cookies.”

  “Good. Because we’re having meat loaf, and cookies are a lot better than meat loaf.” She shot Ava a wary look and added, “Not that meat loaf is bad. It’s just not as good as cookies, okay?”

  Ava tried really hard not to smile. “Okay. Go on in and set another place.”

  “Okay!” Sylvie whirled and took off for the kitchen.

  After dinner, Sylvie did her homework in ten minutes flat, leaving time after her bath for some Wii bowling, a board game and How the Grinch Stole Christmas. And then she went to bed without stalling or complaint, whispering contentedly, “Night, Mommy,” as Ava turned out the light.

  “I think I’m raising the perfect child,” Ava said to Dare when she joined him in the living room. “At least, today I am.”

  “She’s a great kid, all right.” He took her hand and tried to pull her down next to him.

  She resisted. “Will there be kisses?”

  “You’d better believe it.”

  “Then let’s go somewhere more private.”

  “Great idea.” He got up—and then held her back when she would have led him to the master suite. “Nice Christmas tree.” He let go of her hand and slipped an arm around her. She felt his touch on her nape, ru
bbing a little in a lovely, companionable way as they stood there together and gazed at the tree in the window. “I should get a tree. And then I should go out and buy a bunch of lights and shiny ornaments. Then you should bring Sylvie out to my place and help me decorate.”

  She leaned into him, even put her head on his shoulder. But she didn’t reply. Taking Sylvie to his place still seemed a step too far to her, and she didn’t even want to have to think about why—let alone talk it over with him. She expected him to press the issue and tried to figure out how to gently say no.

  But he didn’t press.

  And when she caught his hand a second time and turned again for her bedroom, he went with her, following her in there, even shutting and locking the door behind them.

  Then he gathered her into his arms. “If you won’t come out to my place, how about the party at Rory and Walker’s on Wednesday?”

  “Nell and Chloe both invited me. I’ll be there.” It was an annual Bravo family event, a tree-decorating party at the Bar-N guest ranch, which had belonged to Walker’s family for generations.

  “Are you bringing Sylvie?”

  “No. It’s a weeknight. Plus, I understand it’s more of a grown-up party.”

  “Yeah, pretty much.”

  “I’ll get a sitter.”

  He lowered his mouth a fraction closer to hers.

  “Oh, Dare...” She went on tiptoe and claimed a sweet, slow kiss.

  Eventually, he lifted his head and asked, “How about if we go together? I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  “It’s not on your way.”

  “You know I don’t mind.”

  Why did he constantly refuse to take a hint? “Dare. Your taking me to Bravo family parties is not part of the plan.”

  “So change the plan.”

  She began the slow-walk backward. He came with her, and when they got to the bed, they stretched out on their sides facing each other. She tried to capture his mouth for another toe-curling kiss.

  But he wasn’t through talking. “Look. The whole secret-fling thing is getting old, don’t you think? Not to mention, it’s not even working. Everyone knows that we know each other. We’ve been seen together, and that’s going to keep happening. And so what? It’s not completely outside the realm of possibility that we could simply be friends. Why shouldn’t friends go places together?”