The Long Way Home

* * *

BRUCE WAS IN NO MOOD to walk down memory lane. Sitting for two hours in Route 95 traffic tended to do that to a guy.

He parked the Mercedes at a lot a few blocks from the beach then cut through the laneway behind a nightclub. The music spilled into the open air, a song from twenty years ago when he’d been a kid. It reminded him of summer campouts and days spent with his buddies in the neighborhood. It made him feel old and nostalgic and depressed. Those had been good days, and they were gone. Good friends who he hadn’t spoken to in years. Most of them he didn’t even know where they’d ended up.

Hell. If he was going to survive this visit, then he needed to stop thinking like that. His lifestyle had served him well for fifteen years since he’d left town. So he yanked open the door to the hotel where all the trouble had started, and marched inside as if it didn’t matter. He quickly checked his computer and his suitcase with the bellhop in the corner—a habit he’d adopted because valuables were generally safer when he tipped someone to watch them rather than leaving them alone in a car in a public parking area—and then shook out the tuxedo jacket he carried and shrugged it over his shoulders, where it weighed heavily.

The reality was, he was so late that for all practical purposes, he had missed his sister’s wedding. His first responsibility was to find Maureen and smooth things over with her.

He passed behind a brass luggage cart and glanced through the lobby windows to the crowded boulevard outside. Darkness was falling. Tourists were wandering past, dressed in flip-flops and shorts. In all these years, not a thing about Wallis Point had changed. This beach town was small, provincial and predictable—and it made him feel trapped. He loosened his tie. He couldn’t wait to get out of here.

As luck would have it, Maureen was standing alone, in the hallway before the ballroom. When he saw her, he felt himself smile. His sister broke into a grin and ran to meet him.

“Hey, Moe,” he whispered, once he had her in a bear hug.

“You’re late and I hate you,” she whispered back, “but at least you came.”

“I’m sorry, I got held up.”

She pushed back and looked at him. “Don’t think I don’t know how hard it is for you to be here.”

“I’m fine.” He didn’t want to talk about his self-imposed exile with her, especially today. “This is your wedding, don’t let me ruin it for you.”

He dug in his pocket. His sister liked pretty things, and he’d done his best to find her a copy of the earrings she’d been admiring in a jewelry store window last Thanksgiving, when the family had come down for their yearly party at his house in Florida. He pressed the box into her palm.

Her eyes widened as she opened it. “Bruce, these are sapphires.”

“Yeah, something blue,” he said.

She stood a long time, clutching the box and blinking at him. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her skin was pale.

His antennae went up. “Where’s Jimmy? Is everything okay with you two?”

A big, sloppy smile crossed Maureen’s face, which was great to see, because Maureen usually looked hard and focused. She’d built a solid career for herself and her daughter, and he was proud of her.

“Come on,” she said, tugging on his arm, “I’ll take you to see him.”

“Wait.” He pulled out an envelope from inside his jacket pocket. He’d stuffed some cash inside. He wouldn’t do anything so tacky at any other wedding, but this was Maureen, and he knew the importance she placed on security. “This is for you. It’s spending money for your honeymoon.”

“Excellent,” Maureen said, and tucked the money inside her bra.

He relaxed. That was the Maureen he knew.

“And now...” She poked him in the chest. “I want you to stop skulking around out here. Go into the ballroom and spend time with the family. Nina has gotten so big lately. She’s been asking about her uncle and she’s been looking forward to her trip to Disney World.” Maureen put her hand to her mouth.

“What’s wrong?”

But Maureen shook her head, blinking rapidly, as if she was upset about something. Before Bruce could question her further, Jimmy came over and put his arm around her shoulders. Jimmy was small and slight, shorter than Maureen. Where Maureen could be fierce and strong-willed, Jimmy was steady and calm. He ran his own independent home-computer consulting business, so in a sense, he and Bruce were in the same industry.

“We need to get inside for the cake cutting,” Jimmy said to Maureen.

“Right,” Bruce said. “You two go on. I’ll join you in a bit.”

“Where are you going?” Maureen asked.

“Ah...” Now that he was here, the best he felt he could do was to disappear into the woodwork and observe the festivities from afar. And there was only one other guy he knew who would be happy joining him there.

“I’m looking for Gramps,” he said to Maureen.

Her mouth tightened. “He’s not here.”

But that didn’t make any sense. Maureen and Bruce had lived with Gramps and Nana during Bruce’s last two years of high school, when their parents had been in Florida on a long-term job assignment. Nana had passed on a year ago, but there was no way Gramps would miss Maureen’s wedding. “Why isn’t he here? Is he sick?”

Maureen sucked in her breath and stared at him. “He’s fine,” she snapped. “He just couldn’t make it.” She had a set to her chin that Bruce didn’t like. He didn’t like at all. “We’ll talk about this later.”

Later he was leaving. Later he had a flight to catch.

“Fine,” he said.

He’d call Gramps and get the whole story when he had the time. Which right now, he did not.

Because he needed to get out of here. He needed to separate from these people and this life he wasn’t a part of anymore. He needed to be free.

But this was Maureen’s wedding day, so he gave her and Jimmy a lazy smile instead. “Sure. We’ll talk later.”

“Come into the reception with us,” Maureen pleaded. “I have someone I want you to meet.”

Nope, sorry. He wasn’t being introduced to anyone. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.” He nodded to Jimmy. “You two go on. I’ll meet you inside.”

They nodded—Maureen reluctantly, Jimmy with more force, and they left for the ballroom, Maureen’s train dragging along the carpet. Bruce watched them until they disappeared inside, then he headed in the opposite direction down a short, musty back hallway.

One of the advantages of working here in high school was that he knew the floor plan of the rambling old hotel. Rounding a corner, he ducked inside a doorway and climbed rickety stairs until he came to a balcony of sorts.

Years ago, during the hotel’s big-band heyday, this had been the pit where the orchestras were set up to play. The bands were gone, but the dusty space still gave a great view of the dance floor.

He stood near the railing with a bird’s-eye shot of the conga line that snaked around the room. The men wore dark suits and the women black dresses. He remembered the invitation Maureen had sent: black-and-white informal. Maybe that was the latest style. Maureen was always up on design. She had started out being interested in fashion, then interior design, and now she’d morphed into staging and selling beach houses. Hard-nosed and practical, that was always Maureen’s thing.

He crossed his arms and glanced down. He knew roughly half the people—Maureen’s half, and they were relatives. As for Jimmy’s half, he didn’t know many in that crowd. They were younger than him. Still, he couldn’t be sure they didn’t know who he was.

Damn it. He had done his job. He’d shown up, he’d greeted Moe and made her happy, now why couldn’t he quietly escape through a side door, for her sake?

And then he saw the leggy blonde. Standing alone by the windows, she was the only person besides him who seemed out of place.

Sure, she was dressed like everybody else, in a black cocktail dress, but in every other way, she stood out from the crowd. She was...self-contained, for one. A real stunner, but in a fresh-faced, natural way, with little, if any makeup or jewelry. Her thick, honey-colored hair was long, loose, undone. It made her look sexy without even trying. But most of all, he liked that she wasn’t driven to snake around the room in the communal conga line, or to belly up to the bar, joking with the families, or even to sit at the cleared dinner tables, drinking coffee and chatting with the more subdued relatives, because she was disconnected from them, too. That much was obvious.

And then she calmly pulled out her phone to check her messages.

He liked that. He liked that...a lot.

“Who are you?” he muttered aloud.

Jimmy spoke up behind him. “That’s Natalie.”

Bruce swiveled to face his new brother-in-law. “Is she a relative of yours?”

“No.”

“A friend of Maureen’s?”

“Yes.”

His heart sank. Messing with a friend of his sister’s was a terrible idea. Unless...

“Is she an old friend that Moe hasn’t seen in a while, or a work friend she sees every week around town?” Because the former wasn’t too bad, but the latter would be fatal.

Jimmy blinked and stared at him. Bruce waited.

“No,” Jimmy said.

“No?”

“No.”

Bruce waited some more, but Jimmy added nothing. Like so many of the hard-core engineers and techies Bruce knew, getting Jimmy to open up was like pulling teeth.

“How does Maureen know her?” Bruce asked patiently, figuring an open-ended question was his best bet. Enough of the yes/no conversation.

“They went to school together.” Jimmy blinked at him. “I have to take you downstairs now. Maureen wants you in the ballroom with her.”

“Right.” Bruce swept his arm forward for Jimmy to precede him. “Don’t worry, I’m right behind you.”

As Jimmy traipsed down the creaking stairs, Bruce hung back for a last look at pretty Natalie. With her thumb on her phone’s screen, she was scrolling through her messages, unruffled by the music and the dancers in the wedding reception swirling around her.

Like an oasis of calm.

He needed calm. He needed an oasis, too, since it was clear Moe wasn’t going to allow him to escape until the very end of her reception.

Would it cause problems for Moe if he approached Natalie? If she and Maureen had gone to school together, then that meant Natalie had attended the state university where Maureen had majored in business. She couldn’t be a high school friend because he’d known all her friends before he’d left home. Knowing Maureen, Natalie was a dorm-mate invited to the wedding as courtesy. She would be out of Maureen’s life just as quickly as she’d been invited back in.

Like he would be, too.

No. It was too risky.

He was about to leave, when Natalie glanced up at him. He froze as she studied him from head to toe. Then she calmly met his gaze.

And smiled.

He felt hot inside. Maybe he was nuts, because suddenly, the course of action he was imagining seemed like the only possible one to take.

* * *

ONE MOMENT, NATALIE was checking her messages. Her father had sent her a text—all in caps, but still, it was progress in getting him to switch from his habit of phoning her all the time. She had felt the phone vibrating in her purse, and since she was just sitting there watching everybody dance, feeling disconnected and out of place, she’d read his message.

Tenant called. Check the mousetraps at 3 South Street before you come home.

She’d groaned inwardly. He wanted her to cover for him at the rental apartments above the building that housed the law firm. She’d tried to tell her father she was a lawyer, not his building supervisor, and that furthermore she had her own maintenance-needy cottage to worry about, but he was under the impression that she was at his beck and call, part of the package deal of her insisting on coming home to Wallis Point to work in the family firm.

Just rebait the darn mousetrap for him.

She’d suppressed the shudder. She hated mice.

You have to do it. Besides, you’re at a wedding. Think romantic thoughts.

But Bruce Cole hadn’t shown, and her pie-in-the-sky fantasies had lost their wings and fallen to earth.

Sighing, she’d tossed her phone into her purse and prepared to leave to find a hardware store open at this hour, in case the mice had escaped and she needed new traps. She’d almost made her escape, too, until she’d glanced up at the old balcony where the orchestras used to play.

And saw...him.

She’d blinked and gaped. She must be hallucinating.

But no, it was Bruce Cole. And he looked even better than she’d remembered. The sight of him still made her stop in her tracks.

Her heart had seemed to grow in her chest, squeezing her tight. He seemed taller than before. He was broader in the shoulders and he stood straighter. Then again, he’d been a navy lieutenant, although now he was dressed in a black tux with his tie undone. His dark brown, almost black hair was swept off his forehead in a tousled nonstyle that made her want to run her hands through it and gave him the old, passionate air she remembered. His jaw was edged with a five-o’clock shadow that looked sexy and dangerous.

She lifted her gaze to him. Those dark, intense eyes, so alive with fire, were boring straight into hers.

Her heartbeat sped up. The pull of his eyes seemed to tug on her, an invisible line straight to her...well, to parts of her anatomy that hadn’t felt a man’s touch in quite a while.

His eyes seemed to drink her in. Raked her from top to bottom. And she was standing still, letting him study her. This was what she’d been waiting for, after all.

No man interested her the way Bruce did.

As a kid, he had always known how to connect with people. He had that magical quality, a “people” gene that Natalie had been born without. And now all of his intensity was focused on her. She felt every muscle weaken, as if she were being swept away by his gaze.

A slow smile slid up his face.

Make him feel comfortable, Maureen had said. Well, here was a start, and she would do her best to keep it going.

But then she was distracted by her phone vibrating again, and when she glanced back, Bruce was no longer on the balcony. He was coming down to see her—she knew it in her bones, and, shy-person-at-heart she would always be, she couldn’t help worrying.

What if she didn’t hear him properly? What if she said something wrong, something he misinterpreted, and she was responsible for sending him away from Wallis Point again?

Glancing around her, she looked for an out. Somebody they both knew who could rescue her if she made a misstep.

But every other wedding guest was on the dance floor, singing aloud to Sister Sledge’s “We Are Family,” reminding Natalie she was probably the only person present who was not family.

Okay. She would have to handle the conversation on her own. Pay close attention, focus, and in doing so, hopefully help him see that not everybody in Wallis Point thought badly of him.

Once, he had trusted her enough to open up. Just by listening, she had helped him. A small thing she knew had brought him comfort because he’d told her so himself.

And that had been an extraordinary night to a girl of fifteen with little confidence in herself or sense of her worth. She needed to remember that she’d grown since then. She had achieved some extraordinary educational and career accomplishments, and she had found the courage to come home and carve out a place for herself. Don’t think of me as I was then. Let me show you who I am now.

As Bruce walked toward her, smiling, she remembered Maureen’s deal with her. But even if there hadn’t been one dollar of business on the line, Natalie would be breathing just as hard, her hands sweating just as much, and her heart yearning for Bruce to trust her again, just as deeply.

He reached for two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter. He held one flute up, and the full glass obscured her view of his mouth. It was so loud and so confusing in the room that she had to lean in to catch what he was saying.

He lowered the glass and looked at her, his smile expectant, a gleam in his eye. “So what do you think?”

This close to him, his voice sounded so low and deep that it sent shivers up her spine. But at the same time, she panicked. Because all she could think was, What did he just say?

CHAPTER THREE

BRUCE STARED DOWN at the woman he’d aimed for like a laser beam. She was tilting her head at him, focusing on him with those inquisitive blue eyes as if she were trying to figure him out. To other people that might be a good sign, but not to him. He didn’t want to actually talk to anybody about anything more important than an offer of champagne or a stroll on the beach.

He wanted a distraction. That was all.

He held the glass out again. “I can’t promise it’s a good year, but I can promise a decent toast from it.”

She smiled at him, a brilliant, relieved smile. “Then I’m glad I didn’t leave and miss the opportunity.”

Her voice was soft and pleasant-sounding. He had to lean forward to hear her, which was nice. She smelled great, something lush and sexy that came from soap or shampoo rather than perfume.

Once there, in her space, she didn’t shrink from him, and he didn’t back away.

He handed her the flute of champagne, his heart kicking up a notch. She accepted it with a small laugh, and for a moment their fingers brushed. Hers felt soft and slight, her nails short and free of polish.

She’s low-maintenance, was his automatic thought. Good.

He lifted his glass to her. “To getting to know you better.”

She gave him a smile that invited him in, like a blond Mona Lisa. He suddenly felt very predatory and very hungry. It had been...months since his last hookup, with an international flight attendant who led the same transitory lifestyle he did. They’d drifted apart, and he missed nothing about her but the sex. Maybe that was cold, but that’s who he was. He just didn’t feel things the way regular people did. Not anymore.

A shout went up from the dance floor. Maureen was dancing with her new husband and everyone was congratulating her.

“I hate these things,” he said to Natalie.

She blinked for a moment, and then smiled harder. “I know. I’d rather be somewhere else, too. With you, of course.”

“That’s heartening.”

She brought the flute to her lips and took a sip, so he did the same. The tart, bubbly taste jarred him. He wasn’t a champagne guy, but he drank a swallow, both of them watching each other over the rims of their glasses. The magnetism between them made his blood pump.

“We should probably toast the bride,” she said, licking the champagne off her lips.

He raised his glass. “To Maureen and Jimmy. May they have years of bliss ahead of them.”

Her gaze moved from his mouth to his eyes, then back to his mouth. She kept doing that, and it made his groin tighten. It also told him to keep going, that she was interested. “How was that for a toast?”

“Scintillating.” She lifted her glass and clinked it with his, her eyes sparkling. “And now it’s my turn. To bliss. May you have a good visit in Wallis Point.”

Yeah, right. If she only knew how short it would be. Then again, she was still looking at his mouth. Maybe she wanted him to stay for purely selfish reasons.

He could handle that.

He took a second drink of champagne and then put down the glass. “I’m Bruce,” he said. “And you’re a...friend of Maureen’s?”

Her brow furrowed. Her mouth opened then closed. Then she pressed her lips together and glanced toward Maureen.

Ah, hell. And they’d been doing so well.

“I’m Natalie,” she said finally. She was still staring at his mouth, so there was that. He needed to press on.

“Pleased to meet you, Natalie.” He held out his hand to shake hers, but she didn’t take it. For some reason, she looked disappointed.

“I’m up-to-date on all my shots,” he said to lighten the mood, “and I haven’t bitten anyone yet.”

Finally she smiled and took his hand, and he felt himself exhale. At the soft press of her flesh against his, he felt a thousand sparks within him.

She didn’t. Or maybe she did—he couldn’t tell because even though she gave his hand a halfhearted shake, her sharp blue eyes were focused on his mouth. It was confusing as hell. Maybe she wanted him to shut up and take her to her hotel room for some quick sex.

That was fine with him.

But first, they needed to stop dancing around the one clarification they needed to get out in the open.

“Look,” he said, steering her gently by the elbow away from some guests returning to their table with dessert plates. “I know you don’t know me from Adam, and that’s fine—it’s how I prefer it, too. But since you’re a friend of my sister’s, I need you to tell me how you know her, so at least there are no misunderstandings between us.”

Protecting his baby sister took priority over anything he would do in town during these few hours. Even over his own need to escape.

“What kind of misunderstandings?” she asked. At least it appeared she was considering his offer.

“I...” When I leave, you might get mad. It had been known to happen. She didn’t look like the stalker type—he didn’t get that vibe at all from her. His impression was that she was sweet and laid-back—exactly what he needed.

But a man with white hair was walking straight toward them. If Bruce wasn’t mistaken, he looked like his old elementary school principal. “How about we take a walk on the beach and sort this out?” Bruce asked.

She frowned. “It’s dark on the beach.”

Wasn’t that the point? He noticed, with alarm, that his niece Nina was skipping his way as well. “None of my family members or old teachers are there, either,” he quipped.

Her head tilted as she listened to him. But it was too late. Nina ran up to them and came to a stop. Natalie put her hands lightly on his niece’s head. “Hello, Nina.”

Shoot. She knew his family better than he’d assumed.

“Hi, Natalie! Uncle Bruce, will you come dance with me?” Nina pleaded. She hopped up and down, clinging to his hand with both her tiny ones.

Aw, hell.

“Dance with your niece,” Natalie said softly. It was noisy, and he had to lean close to hear her. Then she turned and smiled at the white-haired gentleman. “I’ll dance with Bill.”

He felt deflated. He couldn’t get a read on this woman, no matter how hard he tried. Altogether, nothing about her made sense. She’d come on to him, too, with her looks, her smiles. But then as soon as he’d asked how she knew Maureen, she’d turned...cautious.

But her expression was smooth, and she gave him no hint of trouble. Her face was...a mask. Happy-go-lucky. Agreeable.

Just not to him. Because as he stood there, staring, she walked off arm in arm with a guy two and a half times his age and a lot crankier. He didn’t get it.

She had snubbed him. And good.

But he picked up his niece, tossed her over her shoulder the way she adored and headed for his own dark corner of the dance floor.

Because here, in this moment, he had figured it out.

Natalie did know him from Adam. She knew all about him from the court of public opinion. Anybody in town could have told her. Hell, Maureen could have told her.

In the three-hundred-and-fifty-year-plus history of their little seaside town, he was probably the only guy who had ever been blamed for killing his best friend, and then leaving town before the funeral to pursue his own agenda.

He willed himself to turn cold inside, still and unfeeling. No guilt, no pain. He’d had lots of practice, and of all the things he was good at, this is what he did best.

Feeling dead, he held his niece’s hand as she twirled around and around, her puffy dress expanding like a top. This was a favorite game for the “princess cowgirl,” as she’d so seriously told him she wanted to be when she grew up, and though he loved her, he was afraid his heart had been pretty much burned out and shrunk to ash. There just wasn’t much of anything...meaningful...he felt moved to give anybody. He wasn’t sure he wanted to, even if he could. It just ended badly. The fact he’d shown up at Maureen’s wedding at all...well, that was about all he was capable of giving.