Ben…
Two days.
Forty-eight separate hours.
A segment of time that stretched the same no matter how you clocked it, in every time zone.
My last? Dragged for eternity.
Of course, first thing Friday, it’d been awesome. For about five minutes.
I’d texted her. Short and sweet.
Alley. 3:00 p.m.
She’d actually replied...instantly.
K
One letter. But I’d been the one who’d laughed. Because the world had shifted. I’d worn her down. She’d had two firsts in one day: She’d sent a text, and I’d picked her up.
We’d made progress. Slow, but for damn sure.
The slow part worried me a little. It’d been an uphill battle to convince her to work with me. And I’d sensed her internal struggle to agree to go to the barbecue. Every step of any direction that involved me had proven difficult for her.
Why? No other woman had ever been so hesitant. So...wary.
Who hurt you, Shay? Not a chance in hell I’d go searching for that landmine answer anytime soon. Because my interminable forty-eight-hour wait had finally ended.
Shay settled onto my truck’s bench seat while I shut her door.
As I jogged around the front, excitement flashed through me, like I’d devolved into some anxious teenager on his first date.
I got in, blew out a fast breath, then shifted into gear.
When I pulled away from the curb, she glanced at me. “This isn’t a date, you know.”
“I know.”
“Then why’d you open and close my door for me?”
To make sure you got in okay. “Door sticks.”
She stared at me a moment, then faced forward as we turned left onto Sycamore Lane. “Speaking of...I thought you owned an Escalade.”
“I did.”
Her hands spread down her khaki shorts before resting on her bare thighs. “But not anymore.”
“Nope. Sold it. This fits me better.”
She leaned forward, adjusting. Then she settled back again and crossed her arms. But she remained silent. For two straight blocks.
The vehicle change-up seemed somehow important to her. “Disappointed?”
“No. Just surprised, is all.” She hovered her fingertips over an original Bakelite knob on the dash. “Why does this fit you better?”
“I’ve wanted an old farm truck since I was a kid. Been watching classic car sites, and this derelict resto-mod became available last week.”
Her ankles crossed. “Does the door really stick?” She uncrossed them and planted petite feet in simple black sandals flat on the floorboard.
“Sometimes.” I frowned, concerned with all her fidgeting that she might not feel well.
I was about to ask if she needed anything, but she fired off a question first.
“How far is Cade and Hannah’s house from here?”
“About ten minutes. Hers backs to the waterway. Has a good-sized rear lawn that leads down to a boat dock.”
“Hers?” Her brow furrowed. “I thought it was Cade and Hannah’s house.”
“It’s theirs now that they’re married. She inherited it from her grandmother.”
We stopped at a red light. Shay quieted, but her restlessness continued.
I finally glanced at her and shifted the truck into neutral. We weren’t driving any further with her in distress. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” She drew in a deep breath, then let out a slow exhale. “Why?”
“You haven’t sat still for more than three seconds straight since we took off. Are you nervous?”
“I am, a little.”
“Why? There’s no need to be. This isn’t a date...remember?”
She glanced at me. “Oh, I remember. Clearly.”
The light turned green. I shifted back into first, continuing on. “So, what’s to be nervous about?”
She let out a heavy sigh. “You’ll think it’s stupid.”
“I won’t ever think anything you say is stupid.”
“It’s just...it’s been a really long time since I’ve been in a house with people in it.”
The way she said it, I got the impression she’d been in plenty of houses. Which sparked my curiosity. But I didn’t pull on that thread. I wanted to make her more comfortable, not less.
“Not just people. Friends. Family.”
“Maybe that’s what I’m nervous about. I’ve never cared so much about people liking me before.”
She slowly pressed a cupped hand over her mouth and closed her eyes, as if she couldn’t believe she’d admitted that aloud.
I pulled over to the side of the road. “I feel exactly the same way.”
“You do?”
“Hell yeah, I do. About you.”
She stared at me and said nothing for several beats. But she’d stopped fidgeting altogether. “I like you.”
“Well thank fuck for that.”
She laughed and shook her head. “I guess you like me too.”
“It’s gone a hell of a lot past like.”
Silence filled the truck cab. The two of us were finally alone with the heavy admission out in the open between us. But neither of us said a word.
Maybe because we didn’t know how to take that next step.
I’d been raised in one world; she’d survived in another.
The rumble of the idling V8 engine vibrated through the truck.
Faint gasoline fumes wafted in through the cranked-down windows, then blew out just as fast on the crosswind.
But none of those distractions fazed Shay.
Her attention had fixed solely on me. “Why do you like me?”
“More than like you.”
She didn’t say anything to my clarification. Instead, those expressive green eyes searched mine. Her chest rose with a measured inhale, fell on a slower exhale.
Her slender brows twitched down for a split second. “But why?”
A million reasons came to mind.
But in that moment, one echoed with more force than the rest.
“You live loud...without saying a word. When you’re around, you drown out all the noise. When I’m with you, there is nothing else.”
Silence filled the cab.
We sat on opposite sides. Lap belts held us securely down.
But she flattened her small hand over the worn leather of the bench seat, into the space between us.
I bridged the remaining gap, spread my fingers wide, until my larger pinky touched hers, knuckle to tip.
Long seconds drifted by.
The engine rumbled.
The crosswind blew.
But we didn’t move away from our fragile connection.
We stared at each other...and saw through every defense we’d built. As we inhaled and exhaled, breaths coming faster, shallower, I got the sense that we breathed common air for the very first time.
We’d come from different worlds, but we occupied the same space in that moment. In spite of our differences. Maybe because of them.
But on her next quick breath, her brow furrowed. Her hand twitched away.
Whatever she struggled with had broken through. That spiky armor clamped back around her.
Moment over.
And yet, she still stared at me. Gaze fierce. Jaw set. “When I’m with you, I become someone else. I forget who I am. And I can’t let that happen. You make me believe I can trust again. And that terrifies me.”
I stared back at her, undaunted. “I will never let you forget who you are. Become someone else with me, someone better. Get terrified; we’ll only grow stronger.”
After a long beat, she sucked in a deep breath. Then she pursed her lips and blew it out, nice and slow.
She remained silent. Committed to nothing.
But then I felt her pinky press against mine. Tentative, at first. Then firmer, solid.
She’d spoken, in her own way. And I’d heard loud and clear: I’ll become someone better, I’ll get terrified...just as long as you don’t let me down.
I gusted out a relieved sigh. “Well, hell. No pressure there.”
She didn’t laugh. Her eyes narrowed.
I reached farther and slid my hand over hers. “I won’t let you down.”
Nothing in the world could make me blow this...even though the weight of our world rested on my shoulders.
Including lightening the mood. Now. Before she changes her mind and bolts from your truck.
“Kiki likes you.” Divert back to topic, back to the barbecue. “So does Cade.”
She gave me a weak smile. “I like them too.”
“Well, that’s three down. Almost half our crew. Their sisters, Kendall and Kristin, will instantly like you. Hannah will adore you. Mase? He’ll probably give you shit. But that’s his way of giving someone his giant stamp of approval.”
The more I talked, the calmer Shay grew. Her shoulders, once hiked up to her ears, had relaxed. The fidgeting? Vanished.
I arched my brows, tilted my head her way. “We good?”
“We’re good.” Her expression remained serious.
I stared at her a moment. When her lips finally started to curve into a genuine smile, I gave her a satisfied nod then drove off again.
“Kendall, Kristin, Kiki...” She ticked their names off as her fingertips tapped the bench seat between us. “All Cade’s sisters?”
“Yup. Mase and I are Michaelson adoptees. Been friends since we were in kindergarten.”
“That’s a long time. Sounds nice...” Her voice wobbled a little.
I parked alongside the curb in front of their house and glanced at her. “Don’t think you’re any kind of outsider. You’re going to their family barbecue. Unless they bodily throw you out, you’re already in.” I nodded toward the walkway that led to their backyard. “This is it.”
She tried to open her truck door before I rounded the front end to open it for her. It stuck. But she gave it a powerful shoulder-shove and stumbled out as I caught her hand to steady her.
“Told you it sticks. It’s a little temperamental.”
She shrugged it off, winced, then rolled her right shoulder a second time.
When she reached up with her left hand and dug her fingers into the joint, I grew worried. “Sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah,” she sighed. “It’s nothing. Shoulder’s a little sore.”
“Ah, new golfer.” Battlefield sore. “That’ll wear off soon. Need me to rub it?”
She blinked with a surprised expression, then took a step sideways, almost off the walkway. “Nah, I’m okay.”
Back with the distance between us. Our own personal battle had become a tug-of-war.
“You look nice, by the way.” She wore a simple black tank top and khaki linen cargo shorts.
“Thanks.” When the walkway turned into a steppingstone pathway down the side yard, she paused and gave me a brief head-to-toe appraisal. “You’ve made a significant improvement.”
“You think?” I took advantage of the pause, closed the distance to within arm’s reach.
“Well, I dunnooo...” She ignored our closeness, didn’t seem bothered by it. “That bright white and lime green had started to grow on me.” She shrugged. “But this one’s okay. I’ll just have to deal with your boring ol’ black tee, worn jeans, and comfy tennis shoes.”
Her standard attire. What I typically wore. Our common comfort zone.
She smiled, then turned and skipped over the last couple of stepping stones, suddenly full of confidence.
We rounded the back corner of the house as a white slipcovered couch was being walked outside; Cade negotiated backward with the leading end, Mase brought up the rear.
“Hey, Shay.” Cade was the first to notice us when he swung his end around. “Ben.”
“Hey, guys.” When Mase’s end swung around, I nodded at the scruffy blond dude. “Shay, this is Mase.”
Mase gave her a chin-up and a lopsided smile. “Howzit.”
Shay furrowed her brow and glanced at me for translation. “How’s it goin’? Mase moved to Maui over the summer. Thinks he speaks Hawaiian slang now.”
He slow-nodded, long hair swaying in front of his face. “Yo, we talkin’ story. O’ whut? I live fo’ da surfin’ and da hunnies. No mo’ talkin’ like Richie Rich.”
She glanced at me, eyebrows raised, expression uncertain as hell.
I shook my head. “Ignore him.”
Hannah and Cade’s German shepherd barked and circled the couch as it paraded by. When the guys started lowering it, the dog jumped onto the teak coffee table then launched onto the center cushion of the couch.
Shay’s face lit up as she stooped down with an offered hand to sniff. “Awww, who’s this?”
“That’s Ava.” I crossed my arms, glad to see the gang naturally wrap around Shay.
Ava sniffed, then nose-nudged her with approval.
“Hey now, girl.” Mase rounded the corner of the couch. “I turn my back for one second, and you’re already cheating on me.”
A kitchen window shoved open and a beloved brunette leaned her head out. “She’s been cheating on you all summer, Mase. Better get used to it. She knows who feeds her.” She spotted Shay and gave a friendly wave. “Welcome to the chaos, Shay. I’m Hannah. Grab a drink and make yourself at home.”
“Shay!” Kiki burst out onto the patio, pushed Mase out of the way, ignored me, and wrapped her arms around Shay in a tight hug.
Shay froze, a stunned deer in headlights when faced with the hundred-mile-an-hour Kiki.
But I had to give Shay credit, she instantly relaxed in the warmth of Kiki’s arms.
The Michaelsons had that absorptive effect on people. You didn’t enter their sphere of influence without becoming one of them. I’d experienced the phenomenon firsthand—why I had every one of their backs, no exception.
Kiki eased back, taking hold of Shay’s hands. “Did you give it more thought?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah, as in yes?”
“Yeah.” Shay grinned. “Yes.”
“Awesome. I’ve already done tons of research: checked for IP rights on phrases, priced out suppliers, and found potential shirts like the sleeveless one you wore Wednesday.”
Shay blinked in surprise. “How sure were you that I’d say yes?”
“About being partners? Pretty sure. But if not, I’d have handed over all the goods. Your idea’s too perfect not to at least give it a go.”
“But...how will we sell them?”
“Oh, I’ve got all that figured out too.” Kiki dropped her hands into the front pockets of her shorts and a distinct crinkling sounded out. Ava alerted upright on the couch. When Kiki pulled out her right hand, a few green treats rested on her palm. Ava bounded over, sat in front of Kiki, then waited. “Good girl,” Kiki praised, then angled the treats toward Ava’s black muzzle in reward. “We can always sell online, but it’d be killer if we could infiltrate the pro shops.”
“Hi, I’m Kendall.” The youngest Michaelson popped in out of nowhere and hooked an arm around Kiki’s shoulder. “What’s my sister roping you into?”
“And I’m Kristin.” The oldest navigated out the kitchen door with a heaping platter of nachos. “Better not be anything we wouldn’t do.”
With growing amusement, Shay glanced at Kendall, then Kristin. “Edgy golf shirts.”
“Naughty edgy golf shirts,” Kiki corrected.
Cade returned outside with his beer bottle gripped in one hand and the necks of two fresh ones dangling between the fingers of his other.
I took one of the offered beers with a nod, then sat on the couch, out of the way. But curious about Shay and Kiki’s unorthodox business venture, I glanced over at them. “How’s that work?”
Kiki opened the drink cooler. “We’re taking civilized golf shirts to a whole new level.”
Shay rummaged through the ice, pulled out a grape soda, popped its top, then downed half the bottle with a few impressive gulps. “Yup. All those dirty golf thoughts? Embroidered right on the collar.”
“Sex talk down the fairway.” Kiki grabbed her own drink, then dropped the cooler top.
Shay angled her soda bottle at her. “Innuendo on the green.”
Kiki fought a smile. “We’re sneaking it in right under their noses.”
“Around their necks.”
A very pregnant Hannah waddled out from the back door with a loaded dinner plate. “What are we doing?”
Cade opened the grill and fired up the burners. “Scandalizing the country club.”
“Forget hot under the collar—” Kiki glanced at Hannah.
“—we’re putting hot right on the collar,” Shay finished.
Kiki and Shay reached out and knuckle-bumped their shared thought.
Hannah balanced her heavy plate on one hand, planted the other on the back of the couch, then eased down into the corner beside me. “Oh, I’d pay to see that.”
“Speaking of golf” —Cade pointed some kind of long-handled coiled steel brush at me— “you sign up for the tournament? Deadline’s today.”
Shay swallowed the last of her soda, then tossed the empty bottle into the recycle bin beside the barbecue. She glanced at me. “Yeah, did you sign up?”
My gaze locked with hers. I’d agreed to play for her. But she’d agreed to the gala with me. Win-win. “Yeah, I did.”
Then I dropped a deadpan look at the meddling fucker. “And you know I did. You were standing right there.”
“Oh, that’s right.” Cade grinned. “Me chairing the player’s committee, and all.”
Mase then clapped his hands and rubbed them together as he eyed the nachos.
Kristen and Kendall disappeared back into the kitchen for more prep work.
Cade busied himself with oiling up the grill.
Ava chased Kiki down onto the lawn to play fetch.
And Shay smiled as she soaked up the unmistakable welcome from everyone.
In ten minutes flat, the Michaelsons had already proven Shay had nothing to worry about. But no shocker. Our motley crew? The best family experience I could offer Shay.
Far better than what I’d gotten from any of my flesh and blood.