Love to Believe: Fireflies ~ Book 2 Page 3

  Brenna smiled. “I told you it packs a punch. C’mon upstairs. Let’s get you dried off and warmed up. Mama’s right. A hot shower will fix you right up.”

  “Where is everybody?”

  “The ladies are in the kitchen, and the men have gravitated downstairs to Daddy’s man cave. Except your grandfather. He’s in the kitchen eating cookies, getting buzzed on mulled wine, and flirting with me like the construction jock he used to be. I wish I knew him when he was forty years younger,” Brenna said. “C’mon. I’ll find you a change of clothes and then you can hunt down your brother and sister-in-law to-be.”

  Rebecca took a second to pull off her wet boots and socks, which she left on the mat by the door next to Sean’s soaked shoes. She hoisted her purse over her shoulder, took a couple big swigs of her mulled wine, and followed Brenna up the stairs in her bare feet, enjoying the relaxing and warming effects of the beverage. They met Sean on the second floor landing. His wet hair gleamed like black ice, and he’d traded his dripping business attire for jeans and a ragged NYU sweatshirt.

  Sean winked at Rebecca and his lips curved in a slow smile. “Call me if you need any help.”

  “You’re a moron,” Brenna said, but Sean just laughed and proceeded down the stairs. “My brother is an idiot,” she said to Rebecca, but the words came through an indulgent smile and her words carried no bite.

  “A charming idiot.” Rebecca hoped her tone sounded as light as she intended.

  “Yeah, but don’t tell him I said that.” Brenna led Rebecca to the left and flipped on the bathroom light. “Towels are in this closet. Soap, shampoo, conditioner—all that stuff—is in the shower. Feel free to use it. I can see by your face that you feel uncomfortable using the shower, but you shouldn’t. It’ll warm you up. Besides—” She patted Rebecca’s hair. “—you’re going to want to do so something with that mess.”

  Rebecca glanced around Brenna to see herself in the mirror. Her eyes widened and she emitted a horrified squeak. It was worse than she thought. Her hair had gone from beehive to rat’s nest, and the mascara she applied earlier had laid skid marks from cheeks to chin. Dear god. She looked like an eighties punk rocker gone wrong—or horribly right, depending on one’s perspective. Either way, she needed serious fixing.

  Brenna stepped from the bathroom and pointed down the hall to the left as she led Rebecca in the opposite direction. “Daddy and Mama’s room is down there. Behind door number one here,” she walked past the first closed door to the right of the stairs, “is Jack’s old room. Sean’s is behind door number two, and my old room is here.” She stopped at the end of the hall across from Sean’s room. “You’d think Mama and Daddy would’ve converted these bedrooms into useful spaces after we moved out, but they never bothered. And I’ll apologize now for the Backstreet Boys and ’NSync posters.” She opened the door to her childhood bedroom.

  “Justin Timberlake still does it for me,” Rebecca said, “so you’re forgiven.”

  She stepped into the time machine that was Brenna’s old bedroom. As promised, boy band posters adorned the walls, along with Bright Hills High School and University of Georgia pennants, and four framed poster replications from Monet’s Water Lilies series. Three walls of pale pink were offset by a fourth of eye-popping fuchsia from which protruded the canopied bed dressed out with lacy trimmings and an overabundance of pillows running the gamut from frilly to plush. Red fuzzy dice the size of cantaloupes dangled from one of the bedposts, and a collection of Mardi Gras beads swung from another.

  “Wow,” Rebecca said, taking it all in.

  “I know. I was such a cliché.” Brenna made a face. “Did your parents entomb your old bedroom like this?”

  Rebecca laughed. “Hardly. The day I moved out my mother moved in her sewing machine and a new TV, and that was that.”

  “Well, let’s see what we can find you to wear. I got into the habit of leaving a few changes of clothes here because it’s convenient, like on a night like tonight when the weather is bad and it’s easier to just stay over. Sean does the same thing.”

  While Rebecca poked through the few things hanging in the closet, Brenna looked through her dresser drawers.

  “I appreciate your offer for a change of clothes, but I can’t imagine you have anything that will fit. I’m a flagpole and you’re an hourglass.”

  “You’re willowy,” Brenna argued, tossing a gray sweatshirt and sweatpants onto the bed, followed by a pair of thick socks. “That isn’t the same as a flagpole. How tall are you, anyway?”

  “Five-seven.”

  “You look taller than that, but then I’m height challenged at five-foot two. Maybe these sweatpants will work, and the sweatshirt is a large. I gave up trying to be a size six long ago. And anyway, I like to give the girls plenty of wriggle room.” She shimmied to make her point.

  Rebecca looked down at her own chest and smirked. “I like my sweatshirts roomy, too, so this will be perfect. Thanks.”

  “I don’t have any extra bras here—”

  “They wouldn’t fit me if you did.”

  “—but there are some undies in the top drawer, and I’ll share, but if you feel hinky about that, I understand. And you know where to find the bathroom. Other than that, I guess you’re all set.”

  “Thanks, Brenna. I appreciate it.”

  “See you downstairs.” Brenna smiled and slipped from the room.

  Rebecca finished her hot drink and set the mug next to a Bedazzled princess phone that sat on the bedside table nearest the door. She made a mental note to bring the mug downstairs with her so she could fill it up again. The mulled wine, spiked with whisky, had done its job, and her relaxed muscles and warm belly conspired to remind her of her exhaustion. Maybe taking a shower was just what she needed to wake her up. She eyed herself in the mirror over Brenna’s dresser and admitted that she’d benefit from a makeover.

  She stepped from Brenna’s room and saw that the door to Sean’s boyhood bedroom stood ajar. With a guilty glance down the hall, she pushed the door open farther with her foot and peeked in, but earned only a slight glimpse afforded by the light spilling in from the hallway. Typical room for a teenaged boy from what she could see, with posters of athletes on the wall. Judging from the Atlanta Braves paraphernalia, baseball had been Sean’s sport of choice back in the day. Vying for attention amid the sports stuff hung a movie poster for 9-1/2 Weeks, depicting a tousled and sexy Kim Basinger. Rebecca pictured Cynthia, Sean’s date at the Fourth of July picnic. There was no doubt about it. The man preferred well-endowed blondes.

  Not that it mattered, of course. Her relationship with Sean was superficial at best and silly at worst. She was the flat-figured redhead he joked with, not the sort of sexy bombshell that attracted his male attention.

  And that was fine, a totally good thing. Being just friends with Sean was great. Really. She enjoyed their ridiculous verbal play and wanted it to continue. Besides, she was dating Nate, even if he was too demanding, too eager to turn their romantic friendship into a serious relationship. She’d have to talk to him and reiterate her desire to keep things casual. Maybe it was time they took a break.

  She resisted the urge to flip on a light for a more thorough view of Sean’s boyhood room and instead closed the door and headed to the bathroom, where she turned on the shower and stripped off her wet clothes. She didn’t care about the jeans, but the sweater she had chosen to set off the green of her eyes had exceeded what she could afford without feeling pinched, and now it would require a trip to the dry cleaners where she hoped a miracle might be wrought to undo impending shrinkage. That’s what she got for a giving in to a little vanity.

  The hot shower completed the relaxation of her muscles and infused her skin with a rosy glow. She towel dried her curls, bemoaned the lack of products to tame them, made a lame attempt to smooth them down, and huffed in resignation. She’d traded Marge Simpson for Medusa, but even in tumbleweed mode her hair looked better than before. Sort of.

  She glanced
around for the sweatshirt and pants, and muttered, “Crap.” She’d left them on Brenna’s bed. Great. Just freaking great.

  The plush towel covered her most important parts, so she cracked the door and peeked out, nibbling her thumb. Conversation and laughter floated up the stairs from the kitchen, but otherwise the coast was clear. She’d make a run for it past the stairs and down the hall. No worries.

  She set off toward Brenna’s room at a near lope, seeing too late that Sean’s door hung wide open. A moment later he stepped into the hall. Rebecca gasped. She couldn’t halt her forward motion fast enough to avoid a collision.

  She hugged her arms to her chest to keep her towel in place a half second before she slammed into Sean Kinkaid.

  Chapter 2

  “Oof!” Rebecca hit the solid wall that was Sean and stumbled with him when he stepped backward in response to her body slam. He caught her by the shoulders to steady her on her feet. Her skin burned under his touch. She clutched the ends of the towel over her chest in a white-knuckled grip and looked up at Sean, who regarded her with the same level of surprise she afforded him. Their eyes met and held.

  Rebecca ignored the rise of heat into her cheeks, her embarrassment no doubt flaming through her pale skin. She’d never been this close to Sean, near enough to lose herself in the depths of those amazing eyes, so blue they bordered on purple, near enough to see the sweet sprinkling of sunshine freckles over the bridge of his nose. Near enough to press her lips to his, should she be bold enough to move forward a scant inch or two.

  His eyes dropped to her mouth and she held her breath. The muscle in his jaw tensed. He drew a breath and raised his gaze back to hers with an expression that slid to neutral before she could read it.

  He released her shoulders, took two safe steps back, and tucked his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “You okay? You slammed into me pretty hard.”

  “Sorry about that. I left my change of clothes in Brenna’s room by accident and thought I was alone up here, figured I’d sprint past the stairs.”

  He smiled and gave her deliberate once over. “I like your running clothes.”

  Rebecca’s breathing settled into a semblance of its normal rhythm. They were back on solid ground in their usual field of play, and she smirked at Sean as she shoved past him.

  “Asshole.” She muttered it under her breath and his answering chuckle followed her as she disappeared into Brenna’s bedroom.

  Ten minutes later Rebecca followed the sounds of conversation and laughter down the stairs and into the Kinkaids’ generous kitchen. A chorus of hellos rang out when she appeared in the doorway, and she spent the next few minutes giving and receiving hugs from family and friends. The door to the finished basement, where Sean and Brenna’s father, Papa Ron, maintained his enviable man cave, stood open to an intermittent flow of people coming into the kitchen for more food. Plates overflowing, they headed back downstairs to play pool and darts and watch ESPN. She waved at Grandpa Boone, who had seated himself at the food-laden kitchen table in front of an expansive bay window offering a view of the Kinkaids’ backyard, as well tended and gleaming with Christmas lights as the front of the property.

  Grandpa Boone blew Rebecca a kiss and eyed her from beneath his bushy brows. “You look like you just got back from the gym, girl. Didn’t anyone tell you to dress nice for the party?”

  “You’re a real funny man.” Rebecca planted a kiss on the crown of his white-haired head and tugged his impressive mane. “You’re looking pretty shaggy yourself. What happened, did your barber retire?”

  He patted her back and looked up at her with eyes as green as her own. “You’re such a smart ass. Makes me proud.” He winked. “Actually, the ladies at Thursday night Bingo think it’s sexy. I might never get it cut.”

  “It is sexy,” Brenna piped up. “I wish you were forty years younger.”

  “Don’t encourage him,” said Rebecca’s mother, Sada, who sat next to Edie at the breakfast bar.

  “Grandpa’s right. You do look like you just came from the gym.” Caleb, Rebecca’s older brother, appeared from behind her. He hugged her and dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head on his way to the fridge. “Heard you got another flat.” He twisted the top off a beer and pointed the bottle at her. “I keep telling you to stay off the construction sites in that little car of yours. You run over more nails than anyone I’ve ever known. Use one of the company trucks when you’re working.”

  “Blah, blah, blah.” Rebecca would chew off her arm before admitting her brother was right. She grinned when he gave her a look, pleased to note he appeared happier than she’d ever seen him, thanks to Maddie.

  Edie waved to Rebecca from her seat at the breakfast bar. “Help yourself to a plate. There’s snack stuff—veggies and dip, chips—over at the table, and back through the door and across the hall is the dining room, and that’s where the dinner stuff is—turkey, ham, sweet potato pie, garlic smashed taters, gravy, green bean casserole—you name it, honey, we’ve got it.”

  Sada held out her arms to Rebecca and drew her into a hug. “I’m so glad Sean happened along. That barren stretch of road is no place to be stuck.”

  Rebecca kissed her mother’s cheek. “It was lucky for me he showed up.” She moved back to assess Sada’s new hairdo. “I love your shorter hair, and the color, too. I wasn’t sure I’d like you as a blonde, but with your short curls it really works.”

  “Tell that to your father. He likes me better as a redhead. Here, try Brenna’s shrimp. You’ll love it!”

  Rebecca held up her empty mug. “What I’d really like is more of Brenna’s mulled wine.”

  “It’s on the stove. Help yourself. I’m over here noshing with Grandpa Boone,” Brenna said.

  “Hi, Maddie,” Rebecca called to her brother’s fiancée who appeared at the top of the basement stairs. “Sorry Sean and I missed surprising you.”

  Maddie’s face beamed. She met Rebecca in the middle of the kitchen, and the two women hugged tight. Rebecca’s lips curved in a generous smile, and she drew back to look at the woman who would soon become her sister-in-law. “You look so gorgeous. Happy and gorgeous. I can’t believe you’re really going to marry my brother, and you a kindergarten teacher, too. I thought you were supposed to be smarter than that.”

  “We both know I’m the luckiest woman alive,” Maddie said.

  Caleb blew her a kiss. “Aw, thanks, babe.”

  “Gak.” Rebecca made a face. “I suppose I should say congratulations, Maddie, since you seem to be so happy about it. I heard TJ spilled the beans and proposed ahead of my brother.”

  Maddie laughed and nodded. “He did. He was so dang cute, too. It was the best proposal from a five-year-old I’ve ever had, and I’ve received several.”

  “Where is the little stink bomb, anyway?”

  “He’s spending the night at Henry’s. They talked Henry’s mom, Shelley, into letting Pirate stay, too,” Maddie said, referring to the dog she and TJ rescued from an alley last summer. “She’s got her hands full.”

  Brenna handed a plate of shrimp to Rebecca. “This is my shrimp recipe. The Neanderthal’s shrimp is in the dining room.” Brenna’s nickname for Dante Caravicci, Caleb’s best friend and owner of Caravicci’s Pizzeria, earned a smile from Rebecca. “We’re having a competition, and I want you to like mine better.” She patted Rebecca’s shoulder and turned her gaze to Maddie. “Whatever will you and Caleb do with the house all to yourselves for one whole night?”

  Maddie’s cheeks flamed but her lips curved into a smile. “We’ll think of something.”

  “Hey, Twizzler.”

  The deep voice preceded the arms of steel that came around Rebecca for a hug. She went on her tiptoes and planted a smacking kiss on the lips of Brenna’s nemesis, Dante Caravicci.

  “Hey handsome, how’s it going?”

  “Better now that we know you didn’t drown on the side of the road.”

  “Sean came to her rescue,” Sada said between bite
s of stuffed mushrooms and Brenna’s shrimp.

  “Hi, Mom.” Dante moved past Rebecca to give Sada, whom he considered his surrogate mother, a hug. “You tried my shrimp yet?” At Sada’s negative shake of her head he said, “Be sure you do. Mine will melt in your mouth.”

  “So humble,” Brenna muttered under her breath.

  “Did I tell you I’m thinking about leasing the empty space at the corner of Main and Bright?” Dante asked.

  Brenna’s eyes narrowed into unhappy slits. “At the opposite end of the block from L&G? Why would you do that?”

  Dante flashed a grin that Rebecca thought would have turned any woman other than Brenna to butter. “Maybe I just want to be closer to you, kitten.”

  “Call me that again and you’ll lose a limb.”

  Dante laughed. “Okay, wildcat then.”

  “You aren’t closing down the pizzeria, are you?” Rebecca’s tone bordered on frantic. “Your place serves the best pizza and subs in town. You’re also the only pizza place that’s close enough to deliver to my house.”

  “The Pizzeria is a great family place, and I want it to stay that way. The place in town will be Dante’s Bistro, everyone’s favorite little Italian restaurant, more for date night than family night, you know? Small, intimate booths and tables, linen instead of paper napkins, good wine, nice bar, a little upscale. Maybe even design it as a piano bar, if Caleb can find a way to make it fit when he draws up the blueprints. The Bright Hills downtown area is perking up with all the renovation work going on,” Dante said. “If I’m going to take advantage of it, now’s the time.”

  Rebecca nodded. Walker & Son Construction had benefitted in a big way from the downtown revival, and the level of construction and renovations was part of the reason she worked so much overtime.

  “That corner is a prime spot,” Dante continued. “I need to get something going there before someone else snaps it up.”