Loose Ends Page 5

  She looked to him. “I’ve known him years. We were all very close. Of course, when I had Travis, he never occurred to me in that way. Until he did. We kissed and . . . other things . . .”

  Henry gave her a small smile to encourage her to carry on after she’d trailed off.

  “So I know he cares for me and is at least attracted to me.”

  “Of course he’s attracted to you,” Pearl said.

  “I’m not every man’s type,” Luci told her.

  “Yes, those who swing toward their own,” Pearl somewhat agreed. “You’re not their type. Other than that . . .” It was she who trailed off then, lifting her brows.

  “You’d be very annoying if you weren’t so lovable,” Luci returned.

  “I’ve been hearing that since I was two,” Pearl remarked before she drank more Bellini.

  Luci shook her head at her and took her own sip.

  “Getting back to what Pearl said earlier,” Henry called her attention back to him, “I encourage you to forget this man and move on.”

  “And I encourage you to find this schmuck and make clear to him how absurd he’s being and then move on,” Pearl offered her opinion.

  “He’s a friend,” Luci reminded her.

  “Then he shouldn’t have kissed you,” Pearl returned.

  This was true.

  Why did he do that?

  If it was such a big mistake when it happened, why wasn’t he gentle and sweet and pull away and share they couldn’t take their relationship to that place? She would have been mortified, but she also would have found her way beyond that and they would be again what they always were.

  Why did he show her the entry back into heaven?

  And then walk away?

  And furthermore, what had been behind that look? That look of promise and longing in his eyes.

  “You’re right,” she said softly. “I don’t . . . I don’t understand that part.”

  Pearl gave Explain! eyes to Henry.

  “I really wish I’d said no to this dinner,” Henry muttered, shifting so the waiter could serve their drinks.

  “Well you didn’t, and you’re here, so hit us,” Pearl ordered.

  Henry looked right at Luci. “It’s Travis, sweetheart. This man, I don’t know him, but you’re you, all of you, the beauty within and without, it could be he’s harbored an attraction to you for years, and due to the code knew he could do nothing about it. Therefore, he slotted you in as friend and that was what it was. Travis gone, things shifted, and he lost sight of what you shared, and perhaps had a momentary lapse of control and kissed you, only to regret it, not,” he stressed, “because of you, but because of Travis.”

  “I think at this juncture I should make it clear that I kissed him,” Luci shared.

  Henry took a drink and murmured, “That explains it.”

  “It surely does,” Pearl agreed.

  “It does?” Luci asked.

  Henry leaned slightly her way. “Darling, if you kissed me, you’re my friend, a colleague, I like you, I respect you, I would not want to lose any of a relationship that means something to me, but I would kiss you back even knowing doing it could put at risk what we have.” He straightened in his seat, his mouth quirking. “Pure male instinct.”

  “For certain,” Pearl again agreed.

  Luci pressed against her seat so her food could be set in front of her, doing it asking, “Now what do I do?”

  “Have you spoken to him since?” Pearl asked.

  “Yes, he said we can’t go there and that it was a mistake and we need to get beyond it and back to the way we were,” she answered the white truffle risotto in front of her.

  “Fine, he feels that way, go back to what you had with him and move on,” Pearl advised.

  “I can’t,” Luci replied.

  “Why?” Pearl inquired.

  Luci looked into Pearl’s eyes. “Because I think . . . no, it’s got nothing to do with thinking, I know I’ve fallen in love with him.”

  “Fuck,” Henry muttered.

  “I’m not a big fan of foul language, but what he said,” Pearl added.

  “I can’t seem to think about anything but him. That kiss. What happened after. When he told me it was a mistake.” Her gaze swung to Pearl. “What he’d think of those shoes I tried on today and how I know he’d tease me about them. But what I don’t know is if he’d like them secretly and how he would show me that.” She turned her focus to Henry. “If he’s the kind of man who would pull my chair out for me if we went to a restaurant together.” She shook her head. “He’s always on my mind. When I go to sleep. When I wake. He’s just always . . . there.”

  “And it’s not just an obsession, hon?” Pearl asked gently. “You know, fixating on him after Travis?”

  Luci shook her head again. “I wish it was. I could see it with someone else. Not Hap. Not someone who’s a member of the family. It’s just him. He’s handsome and funny and I love the way he teases me, and how I started to catch him looking at me and what I saw on his face when I did. He was there when Travis died. Not as much as Sam . . . you both know Sam, yes?”

  When she got two nods, she went on.

  “But he was there. Sam treated me like I was fragile, the finest crystal. But Hap spoke openly of Travis. In his way, guiding my way to carry on, understanding that wound would never heal, but doing it anyway. He was just firmer about it. Not pushy or unkind, but making it clear Travis lived, and was loved, and now he is no longer living, if he is no less loved, but the rest of us are living so we must keep going.”

  “I think I might like this guy,” Pearl mumbled.

  “He’s likable. You especially, Pearl, would love him. He’d go tit for tat with you, shock you silly with his language and pretty much everything he says. He’s affable, but so impertinent, but it doesn’t hide the sweet or the sincerity. You couldn’t help but adore him.”

  Pearl had kind eyes on her when she was done. “I’m beginning to understand your dilemma.”

  Even if Luci was no longer hungry, she picked up her fork.

  “And he was also firm he thought this was a mistake?” Henry asked carefully.

  Luci shoved her fork into the rice. “Yes.” She didn’t lift the bite, just her head to look at Henry. “It’s this code you mentioned. It’s like they held a ceremony and vowed, should something like this happen, the others would take care of the wife left behind, but hands off. And those men take vows like the most devout of priests. There is no shaking it.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Henry murmured.

  That meant she was right.

  Which meant her insides deflated and this was not a good feeling.

  Luci looked back to her risotto. “I am too.”

  “Escape to New York was a good plan to hatch,” Pearl put in. “But I fear you’re just going to have to find more strength, yekirati, once you get home so you can ride this out. And ride it out you will, my girl.”

  That was what Luci feared too.

  Except Hap was taking himself away, not only from Luci, but Sam and Kia, who adored him.

  They were like a family, their own mismatched family, but there was still love.

  So much love.

  This meant Pearl was right.

  She just had to find more strength.

  But it had taken everything out of her to find her way back to life when it felt like she lost hers as sure as Travis’s had leaked out of him.

  She had, and she realized she was ready for life again, and love, watching Sam and Kia find all they had and knowing she wanted that for herself again one day.

  Even so, she didn’t know if she could dig into a well that felt so very empty to find more.

  The problem was, she had no choice.

  “You’ll get there, hon,” Pearl murmured reassuringly, reaching out to pat Luci’s thigh.

  “I will,” Luci replied, but the way the words came out, she didn’t even believe herself.

  “Darling,” Henry calle
d.

  Luci looked to him.

  “You will,” he whispered. “It doesn’t feel like it, but you will.”

  Luci tipped her head to the side, and curiously, not callously, asked, “Do you think you’ll get over Josephine?”

  “In this very moment, even if some time has already passed, no.” He smiled a soft smile at her. “But I still will. The right woman. The right place. The right time. The stars will align and I’ll find someone to make me happy. And you will too, Luciana. You’ll again be very, very happy. Perhaps not with this man. Hell, perhaps not with any man. But you have too much light in you for it to stay dimmed for too long. So something will come along to make you happy. And if it’s something or if it’s someone, or if it’s both, then that will make me happy.”

  “It goes without saying, me too,” Pearl chimed in.

  “You both are such loves, amori della mia vita,” Luci murmured, feeling her throat get itchy and thick.

  “Yes, as are you. We’re also done with this conversation and we’re further done with depressing things,” Pearl decreed. “Now, I have a photo shoot tomorrow but fortunately it’s with the most talented photographer on the planet. It’s your job, motek, to make me fabulous,” Pearl said to Henry. “And I’m sorry, but I’m going to challenge you seeing as tonight we’re living it up, getting very drunk, staying out very late, and making memories that will last a lifetime.”

  “I’m in for that,” Henry agreed.

  “Luci?” Pearl prompted.

  Luci stared at the white truffle risotto she had not taken a bite of but knew it would be amazing. It was also frighteningly expensive (even for her).

  Travis wouldn’t blink at paying the bill after she’d ordered it, she’d feed him some from her fork and he’d love it.

  Hap would give her no end of grief for ordering it, probably turn his nose up at it, but she suspected he’d try it anyway . . .

  And also, probably, he wouldn’t blink at paying the bill after she’d ordered it.

  But neither of them was there right now.

  She was there.

  Pearl was there.

  Henry was there.

  They were living. Breathing.

  And it was time she started living and not just breathing.

  She finally lifted her fork and suggested, “Monkey Bar after this.”

  Henry smiled.

  Pearl hooted.

  Luci took her bite.

  And it was amazing.

  Sterling Idea

  Hap

  HAP SAT IN his truck with his phone in his hand, but his eyes were trained to the back door of Skippy’s Crab Shack.

  If I thought it was worth my time, instead of a waste of it, to tell you a story that would get your head out of your ass, I’d do it. Since it’ll be a waste of it, I won’t. But you’re a damn fool, George Cunningham.

  Hap wanted to know Skip’s story. This was why he was sitting like a thief casing the joint in a lane down the road from the parking lot at the front of Skip’s place, a lane only used for deliveries and by Skip’s employees.

  He looked at his phone and saw it had gone dark since the last time he’d looked at it a minute ago.

  He engaged it and what he’d left there came right up.

  She’s home. Take some time. Go to her. Make things good again.

  The text was from Sam.

  Luciana was home.

  Hap drew in a breath through his nose and looked back at Skip’s place.

  But you’re a damn fool, George Cunningham.

  He had been, returning Luci’s kiss like that.

  Now he was again, avoiding her and making his fuckup even worse.

  He tossed his phone to the seat beside him, turned on his truck and reversed out of the lane, onto the road.

  He put it in drive, and for the first time since it had all gone down, he headed straight to Luci’s.

  It was Saturday. The sun was shining. There was a chill in the air. It was November. It was only going to get worse, then it was going to get better again.

  Hap was the kind of guy who would retire in Florida or Phoenix in an effort to avoid even a chill. Probably Phoenix. He figured he could deal with the dust and temps that could fry an egg on the sidewalk not to have to put up with humidity.

  But that time was not close, so he had the time to make the decision.

  On the turn to the beachfront road, instead of going left, toward Sam and Kia’s, he went right, toward Luci’s.

  He felt his chest tighten as her house came into view.

  She’d lived on this road, just a ways farther down it, when Gordo had been alive and awhile after. It was only a few months ago when she’d sold the bigger house, a house they were going to fill with children after they had their alone time together.

  But they’d waited too long.

  This one was a lot smaller and a lot more Luci. Clean lines. Modern. Sleek.

  The bottom was a two-car garage with two types of storage—one general, one that had a door to the outside for towels and beach chairs and that kind of shit. There was a shower off to the side to rinse off the sand when you got back from the beach. The lower level space was rounded out with a small guest suite that had a private entry, bedroom, bathroom and its own porch that had a view of dunes and the sound of the sea.

  Above that, a massive great room, all open plan, seating areas, dining, half bath tucked behind a pantry, big modern kitchen with white cabinets and countertops, stainless steel appliances, with three kickass pendants over the island that looked like they were made of shards of mirror.

  Finishing that was a wall of windows that all folded open to provide access to a massive deck that ran the width of the house, jutting out over the dunes.

  Floor above that, Luci’s master suite. Something he had not seen and did not think about.

  And the floor above that, kind of an observation deck that could function as a guest room with its own full bath. But mostly it was like a studio/vanity room with tons of framed shots on the walls of Luci at work in fashion spreads or on catwalks, or pictures of Gordo in uniform, from fatigues to mess dress, or with his buds in the field.

  And then there were those of both of them together living her high life globally or living his normal life locally.

  There were even pictures with Hap in them up there.

  He had no idea what she did up there.

  He actually had no idea what she did at all when he wasn’t with her, outside jetting around, going back to Italy to see her family or commune with friends at her house in Lake Como, hanging with Kia, Sam and Kia, Hap and Sam and Kia (when he wasn’t avoiding her) or working in her shop in town.

  He really didn’t know her at all, outside her being Gordo’s wife.

  That’s a damn lie and you know it, he thought as he pulled into her drive that widened so the essentially two-bedroom house could have parking enough for a moderately sized shindig.

  He stopped the truck, put her in park and switched off the ignition.

  “Fuck,” he said as he stared at the steps that led up to the door on the second level.

  He hoped she’d heard his truck pull in. He hoped she looked out to see him there so she had warning.

  But even if she didn’t, he had to do this, for Sam and Kia, Skip, her and him.

  And also for Gordo.

  He should phone and tell her he was there. Give her the opportunity not to let him in. Give her the opportunity to tell him to go away. Or just give her the opportunity to prepare for the talk she knew they had to have.

  Hap did not phone her.

  He opened his door, shoved his body out and slammed the door behind him.

  He adjusted the baseball cap on his head as he walked up the stairs.

  He wouldn’t use words like “mistake” or “regret” this time.

  He wouldn’t mention Gordo.

  He’d talk about how much he cared about her, how important she was in his life, and he’d share how he didn’t want that
to change and he really didn’t want to do anything to harm it.

  Yeah.

  That was the way to go.

  He stood at the pristine white door surrounded by the light gray of the house and looked in the narrow rectangular window that ran down half of one side.

  He only saw himself. It was smoked out his way, but Luci would be able to see him.

  He hit the doorbell, feeling his mouth get dry.

  Christ.

  Why had he kissed her back?

  You know why, asshole.

  He did.

  She was beautiful. She was funny. She ate hotdogs and didn’t talk about how they were unhealthy or how many calories they had. She had great legs, phenomenal hair and an unbelievable ass. She dressed fantastic. She showed love and affection without a hint of hesitation. She could make a stranger feel like a lifelong friend in five minutes flat.

  She was Luci.

  And he was in love with her.

  So he kissed her back.

  Shit.

  The door opened and his focus snapped into place as every muscle in his body snapped taut.

  And then he nearly busted out laughing.

  She was wearing a light-blue, what looked like man’s shirt, tied at the tails at her waist, the tail at the back hanging down.

  But on her bottom, she was wearing a pair of wide-leg pants made entirely of sequins. At the top the sequins were the color of the shirt, but they got darker and darker as the color intensified to the hems, which were covering her feet.

  He just barely hit six foot.

  Since she was five-ten, and now barefoot, he had two inches on her.

  She put on pretty much any shoe she owned, she was taller than him.

  If she was his, he would not give that first crap.

  “Hey,” he said softly.

  Her focus was on his cap, but at his greeting it came to his face.

  “Hap,” she replied, eyes guarded, body visibly as taut as his.

  She had not heard his truck pull in.

  Hurricane glass. Necessary, but usually soundproof.

  “Going to a disco?”

  It came out as habit. The tease. He was that guy and he loved it that she was the kind of woman who not only could take it but enjoyed it and shoveled it back.

  It was the wrong call. She went from guarded to wounded.