The Bravos of Valentine Bay

The good news was, he actually had a solution to her problem. “You want the cabin? It’s yours.”

“What cabin?” Squinting, she craned across the table toward him. “Are you drunk?”

He gestured toward the thick copse of trees behind her, on the south end of his property. “I have a guest cabin, I guess you could call it. Over there. See the trail going into the trees?”

She turned and stared where he pointed. “Wait. I see it. A log cabin, green tin roof?”

“That’s it. It’s one room—and a bathroom. Nothing fancy, but it has everything you need. Power, basic appliances. Running hot and cold water. A woodstove for heat if you need it. I even had Wi-Fi hooked up in there last year when one of the station house dispatchers needed a place to stay for a few months.”

“How come you don’t just rent it out on a regular basis?”

He shook his head. “I don’t want some stranger living a hundred feet from my back deck. Luckily, you’re no stranger. You can have it for as long as you want it, free of charge.”

She sat back in her chair. “That’s not right.”

“Sure, it is.”

“I can pay you what I would’ve paid Sonja, at least.”

He put up a hand. “Stop. Let me do this for you. Like you said, you need a place of your own and the cabin is just sitting there empty.”

She slapped the tabletop. “Wait.”

“What?”

“We should discuss this tomorrow when we’re both sober.”

“Oh, come on, Gracie. I solve your problem for you and you can’t just say thanks, I would love to stay in your log cabin for free?”

“Nope. Not tonight. Tonight is for tequila and commiseration.” She let out a heavy sigh. “Right now, we need to get on to a more interesting topic. Let’s commiserate about love.”

“That does it.”

“Huh?”

He grabbed the bottle and moved it to his side of the table. “No more tequila for you.”

“You’re such a hard-ass, Dante—but I still intend to talk about love.”

He helped himself to another glass. After all, the bottle was in his control now. Might as well take full advantage. “Go right ahead.”

She’d slipped off her pink sneakers and was giving a very happy Owen a tummy massage with her toes. “I love your dog.”

Owen knew she was talking about him. With a gleeful little whine, he rolled over and got up.

“Come on, sweetheart,” she coaxed.

With a sigh of pure contentment, Owen put his head across those amazing white thighs of hers. She petted him, stroking down his back, scratching him behind the ears. Owen shut his eyes and basked in the attention.

She asked, “Does he just stay home alone when you’re working?”

He explained about the nice lady named Adele who lived on the next property over. “Adele runs a sort of doggy daycare, but it’s casual. She’s there all the time. I can drop Owen off and pick him up pretty much anytime that suits me. When I work nights, he stays here, but I can always manage to get home sometime midshift to check on him, give him a little attention and a short walk outside.”

She made a humming sound low in her throat and petted the dog some more. Dante began to hope that maybe they’d left the subject of love behind.

But then she sat back in the chair and stared up at the sky. “Where were we? Right. Love. I can’t say for sure that I’ve ever really been in love.” A long sigh escaped her. “But I have been infatuated, like head over heels, you know? Sadly, I always go for the brilliant ones, the ones nobody understands, the emotional fixer-uppers, I suppose you could say.” She slanted him a quick glance. “You know about fixer-uppers, don’t you?”

He did like watching those pink lips move. “Explain it to me.”

“Fixer-uppers are expensive. I’ve blown my wad on fixer-uppers.” She let out a giggle, and then got serious again. “So right now, I can’t afford another relationship—and could you maybe not look so completely disapproving?”

He blinked. “I’m not.” Was he?

“Yeah, you are. You’re reminding me a little of Daniel. Talk about a buzzkill.” She pushed her glass across the table and gave him the evil eye until he poured her some more.

He set the bottle down again and decided that he might as well be honest with her. “Okay, the way I see it, Gracie, romantic love? It’s a crock.”

She whipped out a hand and slapped him lightly on the arm for the second time that evening. “Take that back.”

“Can’t. Sorry. What you call love is just an excuse to misbehave.”

“Not true. So wrong.”

“Take my parents.”

“Dante. Slow down. You’re telling me that romantic love’s a crock and your parents are your example of why that’s so?”

“Exactly.”

“But your parents have been married forever and they’re happy. Aren’t they?”

“Blissfully so,” he replied in disgust.

“Dante. You’re making no sense. I mean, if they’re happy, well, isn’t that the point?”

“The point is, my mom was seventeen and pregnant with me when she married dad.”

“So what? They’re happy. They’ve been married for more than thirty years. Give it a rest.”

“They’re crazy.”

“No.”

“Yeah. Crazy in love after all these years. And they always have been. Do you know how many times I walked in on my folks having sex when I was a kid? It was traumatic. No surface was sacred. Apparently, it’s still that way.” Which was proven out by the fact that a year ago, at the age of forty-eight, his mom had given birth to his littlest brother, Mac. “And look at my sister. Loved your brother since she was barely in her teens. Chased him shamelessly until she finally caught him. Married him. Got wrongly divorced by him. Seven years later, she gets hit in the head and comes running back for more.”

Gracie put both her hands out to the side, palms up. “And they’re making it work now. They’re very happy together, Connor and Aly.”

“Romantic love is just another name for insanity.” Dante finished off what was left in his glass. “I love my girls. That’s a love that matters, a love with dignity and purpose.”

She bent down and kissed the top of Owen’s hairy head, which was still in her lap. The dog had his eyes closed and a blissed-out expression on his face. “You just haven’t met the right woman yet. It will happen.”

“No, it won’t. The truth is, I’m bad at relationships and I’m just fine with that.”

She stuck out that plump lower lip of hers. “That is too sad.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is. And I’m sorry it didn’t work out with Marjorie. Don’t feel bad, Dante.”

“Did I say I feel bad? I didn’t say that. I said I am bad at relationships.”

“Everyone fails at love.”

“Not my parents.”

“Okay, except for your parents—and my parents, now that I think about it. They were totally in love till the end. And Daniel and Keely. And your brothers, Pascal and Tony, they’re happily married, too, right? And let’s not forget my sister Aislinn and—”

“Stop.” He set his empty glass down harder than necessary. “All these happy couples. I can’t take it anymore.”

“My point is, you just have to be patient. It will happen. I’ve been in five failed relationships—if you count Joseph and Randy in high school. And after Paolo, well, I’ve been going through a bit of a dry spell if you know what I mean, avoiding sex and relationships and all that—but that doesn’t mean I’m giving up, you know? I’m just having a break, that’s all. I could have a wild fling any day now. And one of these days, I’ll find the kind of love your mom and dad have. I’m not discouraged.”

“Meaning I am? I’ve already said twice that I’m not.”

“But you are.” She gave Owen another scratch behind the ear. The dog nuzzled her hand and then flopped back down at her feet, rolling to his back in a shameless invitation to another toe massage. Gracie obliged.

Dante watched her pretty, turquoise-painted toes rubbing Owen’s belly and laid it out for her again. “You’re not getting it, Gracie. I’m fine with things just as they are. More than fine.”

“But…you never have sex with other people anymore?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Ohhh,” she said slowly, eyes going wide. “Just flings and hookups, then, is what you’re saying?”

“What I’m saying is I like my life. I’ve got a job that matters, one that interests me, with good potential for advancement.” He gestured widely at the trees, the deck, the cliff and the ocean below. “I’ve got a great house in a beautiful spot, a good dog and most important, two smart, beautiful daughters.”

The sun had sunk below the water. It was almost dark. The light by the slider, set on a timer, came on.

Gracie put her hands to her throat and made choking noises.

“Whatever that’s supposed to mean,” he said flatly, “I don’t get it. You need to use words.”

“Fine. A life without the prospect of someone special to love just makes me want to strangle myself.”

“How many different ways can I say that I’m perfectly happy with how things are?”

“No. Uh-uh. I refuse to believe that you have no interest in finding love again. Dante, you’re a great guy. And hot.” She peered at him more closely, that pillowy, pink mouth softly parted. “Seriously. You’re really hot…” She stood.

Before he could figure out what she was up to, she’d stepped over Owen and plopped down in his lap. With a happy giggle, she wrapped her arms around his neck and stuck her tongue in his ear.

He knew what to do—take her gently but firmly by the arms and hold her away enough that he could look in those big blue eyes and say in a soothing tone, Gracie. No. Bad idea.

But there was a problem.

Her tongue in his ear? It felt really good. Almost as good as her pretty, curvy body pressing against him. She smelled fresh and clean and sweet, too. And he liked the way she felt. He liked it a lot. The evidence of how much he liked it was growing beneath his fly. She knew it, too. He could tell by the way she gasped and whispered his name.

Tell her this can’t happen, he said to himself.

And he opened his mouth to do that.

But then, her tongue left his ear and her soft lips were right there, meeting his. He sank into that kiss like a drowning man, going down and down, looking up at the sky through the water, realizing that drowning was a good thing—as long as it was Gracie he was drowning in.

Because Gracie, well, she tasted of tequila and summer and the promise of something so perfect and right.

Of course, it didn’t exist, that promise.

He knew that—or rather, the fulfilment of that promise, that didn’t exist. The promise itself? That was the problem. The promise was so tempting. The promise made the world seem like a much more beautiful place.

And right now, on his back deck, as night came on, just the taste of her mouth and the soft weight of her pretty body and the scent of her skin, it was all magic to him. She practiced the best kind of sorcery, equal parts innocence and heat.

She pulled back a little, but only to slide that mouth of hers along the ridge of his jaw. She gave his chin a little bite.

And then her lips met his again. He went down a second time, plunging below the surface of all his own objections.

Dragging her tightly to him, he speared his tongue into her beautiful mouth. He was drunk, but not that drunk. He knew that he shouldn’t, that they were friends and this was how friendships ended, that he was violating the very rule he’d once beaten the crap out of Connor for breaking. Because Gracie was Connor’s little sister and a guy didn’t make moves on his best friend’s little sister.

No. Uh-uh. He shouldn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t…

But she tasted so good, like excellent tequila and the best bad decisions. All the shouldn’ts in the world could not hold out against the flavor of her, the feel of her, so soft and wild, in his arms.

She pulled back violently and blinked at him. “We’re both kind of drunk. Maybe this shouldn’t be happening. I’m kind of taking advantage of you in a weakened state, aren’t I?”

“What the…? Of course not.”

“I’m not?”

Wait. He should probably just agree with her, shouldn’t he? Put an end to this incredible craziness.

She kissed him again. His brain got all scrambled in the best possible way.

This time, when she put her hands on his shoulders and pulled her mouth from his, she said, “Then again, since we’re both hosed, nobody’s taking advantage of anybody. It’s mutually consensual. Wouldn’t you say?” His head started nodding of its own volition. And she gave him her beautiful, glowing smile. “That settles it. We should go inside where the condoms are. You do have condoms, right?”

It was yet another opportunity to tell her they weren’t doing this—or even to lie and say he had no condoms. Whatever it took to discourage this completely unacceptable behavior.

This was so wrong. He couldn’t have sex with Gracie for any number of reasons, none of which were all that clear to him right at this moment.

And her mouth…

Her mouth was so tempting, all swollen from kissing him. Her skin was flushed a hot, dewy pink and her eyes were the deepest, purest blue.

He scooped her hard against his chest and got up.

“Whoa!” she cried happily, tightening her arms around his neck, kicking her feet a little like she just couldn’t contain her glee.

He carried her to the slider. She reached out an arm and pushed it open. Owen went through ahead of them.

Inside, the lights were still on from earlier. Dante turned toward the door again to shut it. Gracie did it for him. Without a word, she pushed it shut and latched it.

His better judgment tried to surface, to put a stop to this insanity. He opened his mouth to gently put the brakes on.

And she kissed him. Her scent was all around him and her skin was so soft, her naughty little tongue all wet and delicious.

His objections flew away. There was nothing in his head now but lust and longing. She felt too perfect in his arms and she tasted like heaven and the scent of her was driving him out of his mind.

Hoisting her higher, he made for the hallway that led to the bedrooms.

Chapter Two

Grace woke to morning light.

She opened her eyes and saw Dante, sound asleep on the other pillow, his eyelashes so thick and black against his tanned cheeks. He looked really peaceful.

And that made her smile.

How much tequila had they drunk? A lot. She deserved to have a hangover—a headache, at least.

But she didn’t.

Gently, so as not to wake him, she rolled to her back and shut her eyes. Her smile got wider.

Seriously, what a night.

And with Dante. Who knew? Yeah, she’d always considered him hot. But way too controlled. He wasn’t a happy man, really—a good man, but not happy. She’d always assumed he was the kind of guy who would have trouble getting loose in bed.

Wrong.

She sighed in pure bliss as X-rated scenes from the night before played out on the dark screen of her eyelids.

After the first go-round, which had been nothing short of spectacular, they’d raided his freezer and gobbled Tillamook Mudslide straight from the carton, each with a spoon, passing the chunky chocolate deliciousness back and forth. He’d then ordered her to drink more water to prevent a hangover later. She’d laughed and called him a control freak, but she did drink the water.

Gracie frowned. About then, he’d started acting kind of distant, hadn’t he? She’d had a really bad feeling he was going to start backing off, start saying that maybe it hadn’t been such a smart idea for them to fall into bed together.

But she’d known how to shut him up about that.

She’d kissed him. Worked like a charm. He scooped her right up and carried her back down the hall to his bed, where the good times rolled some more.

Sometime after midnight, they’d fallen asleep. She’d closed her eyes for a minute—and slept straight through until morning.

What a night.

She could not wait to do it all again.

Carefully, so as not to wake him, she eased her legs over the side of the bed and slid out from under the covers. Her clothes were right there on the bedside chair. She put them on swiftly and tiptoed to the door.

Sweet Owen was waiting on the other side. Pulling the bedroom door silently shut behind her, she asked in a whisper, “Need to go out, boy?”

He let out a low whine and turned to lead the way.

Outside, she found her pink Chuck Taylors right there on the deck by her chair, where she’d left them. Her purse was there, too, still hanging on the back of her chair. She put on the Chucks, hooked the purse over her shoulder and walked Owen into the trees to do his business. As she trailed along behind him, she got out her phone to check messages.

There were two texts from Daniel asking if she was all right.

Oops. They had an agreement that if she wasn’t coming home, she would let him know she was okay—and he would refrain from asking questions about what she’d been doing and with whom.

She answered, Sorry. A little too much tequila at Dante Santangelo’s place. Stayed here to be safe. (And to have the best sex ever in the history of sex. But her big brother didn’t need that kind of TMI.) I’m fine. Home in a while.

He responded right away. Okay, then. Thanks for letting me know.

Was he pissed at her? Probably. Daniel hated it when she didn’t keep her agreements. But she was going to call this a win. She’d messed up and he’d been civil about it when she apologized.

It could’ve been so much worse.

On the way back inside, she grabbed the remains of their dinner, the glasses and the nearly empty bottle from last night.

In the kitchen, Owen went straight to his food bowl. He sniffed at it and then looked up at her with those sad doggy eyes. She took the hint and found him a can of dog stew in the pantry closet. After dishing the food into his bowl, she freshened up his water.

“Good, huh?” She stood over him as he wolfed down his meal. “And now I need coffee.”

Dante had one of those pod machines. She loaded up some Peet’s French Roast.

Five minutes later, she was standing at the counter savoring that first cup when Dante, in jeans and a fresh T-shirt, emerged from the back of the house.

She watched him come toward her, her heart lifting just at the sight of him.

God, he was gorgeous. All that thick, wavy almost-black hair, those smoldering eyes. The eight-pack, the V-lines, the ebony treasure trail leading to fun and fulfilment—and no, she couldn’t see all that amazingness right now. But she had seen it and thoroughly enjoyed it last night. It was all burned into her brain in the best sort of way.

And then she met his dark eyes. Instantly, she knew. It was so painfully clear to her before he even opened his mouth.

Mr. Control was back with a vengeance.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey.”

He knelt to give his dog a good-morning scratch down his back and a pat on the head. “You found the coffee all right?”

As if that even required an answer. She raised her mug to him as he rose. Sliding to the side a little, she made room for him at the coffee maker.

The silence had weight as he loaded the machine and put his cup under the spout. He pushed the button and turned around to lean against the counter as it brewed.

For a good thirty seconds, they stood there, side by side, the coffee maker gurgling and hissing behind him. She drank her coffee and waited. It seemed only fair to give him a chance to not disappoint her.

“Gracie, I…” The sentence wandered off unfinished.

Okay, yeah. Message received. He regretted last night and was about to tell her all about how it could never happen again.

Well, okay then. He would say what he had to say. As for Gracie, she refused to help him in any way, shape or form. She enjoyed her coffee and waited for the rest.

“Gracie, will you look at me?”

Stifling a sigh, she turned her head to face him. Those melty brown eyes were full of self-recrimination and regret.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I never should have touched you. I’m too old for you and I’m not any kind of relationship material, anyway. I don’t know what got into me, but I swear to you it’s never going to happen again.”

Hmm. How to respond?

Too bad there wasn’t a large blunt object nearby. The guy deserved a hard bop on head. What was wrong with him? No wonder it hadn’t worked out with Marjorie. The man didn’t have a clue.

But never mind. Gracie held it together as he apologized some more. She watched that beautiful mouth move and pondered the mystery of how such a great guy could have his head so far up his own ass.

Maybe if she yanked him close and kissed him, he’d get over himself and admit that last night had been amazing, the two of them had off-the-charts chemistry and he didn’t want to walk away from all that goodness, after all.

Yeah, kissing him might shut him up and get him back on track for more hot, sexy times. It had worked more than once already.

But come on. She couldn’t go jumping on him and smashing her mouth on his every time he started beating himself up for having a good time with her.

No. A girl had to have a little pride.

He thought last night was a mistake?

Fair enough. She’d actually let herself believe for a minute or two there that they had something good going on, that her long dry spell man-wise might be over.

But never mind about that. Let him have it his way. She would agree with him.

And then she would show him exactly what he was missing. And then, when he couldn’t take it anymore and begged her for another chance, she would say that they couldn’t, that he was too old for her and it wouldn’t be right.

Not that she was vindictive or anything…

“You’re right, Dante,” she said with exaggerated sincerity. “It was a big mistake. One that can never happen again—and about the cabin? I’ll take it. You are a lifesaver. Thank you so much.”

For a fraction of a second, he looked kind of stunned. But then he gave a solemn nod. “Well, all right then.”

“Is there furniture out there already or will I need to bring my own?” She could use her bedroom suite from Daniel’s. Plus, Daniel and Keely had a lot of random pieces stored in the attic and basement of the Bravo house. Getting the cabin furnished wouldn’t be a problem.

“There’s a bed, a table, a chest of drawers, some chairs and some kitchen stuff.” He moved down the counter, took something from a drawer and came back to her. “Here you go.” He handed her a key, which she stuck in a pocket of her cutoffs. “Anything that’s in there you don’t need, no problem. I’ve got space to store it.”

“That’ll work. I’m off from the Sea Breeze again today, so I was thinking I would just go ahead and move in.”

He frowned. She was sure he would start backpedaling, saying maybe they ought to rethink this, that now they’d shared a night of fabulous sex, it wasn’t such a good idea for her to live on his property.

But in the end, he said only, “All right. I’ve got today and tomorrow off. I’ll help.”

“Thanks, but I can handle it.” She would need to scare up a truck and get one of her brothers to take on the heavy lifting. If none of them were available, she had friends. Someone would come to her rescue.

Dante scowled. “I said I would help. We can use my pickup.”

She gave a him big smile. Really, he was a terrific man—well, aside from that stick up his butt. “I hate to keep taking advantage of you.”

“You’re not. Come on, let me help.”

“Then thank you. Again.”

He still looked way too serious. “Gracie, is this going to wreck our friendship?”

She had such a deep longing to make him squirm. It took serious effort to not put on an innocent voice and probe a little, ask him what, exactly, he meant by this?