Raw Deal (Larson Brothers #1)(30)



“Well all right!” Randall exclaimed with the happiness only experienced by the inebriated. “Beer’s on ice, margaritas are in the blender if the lady so wishes.”

Oh, damn, the last thing she needed was to get tipsy, but at the moment it was the main thing she wanted. “We probably won’t stay too long,” Mike said, keeping his hand at Savannah’s back as they began the walk up the beach toward the houses.

“I hear ya, I hear ya.” Randall cackled knowingly. As soon as they reached the deck outside his house, where a delicious scent was wafting from the grill, Savannah met Randall’s wife, Jenna, and two other couples whose names she tried to remember but promptly forgot. All she could see, really, was the man who had touched and kissed her out there by the water as if she might break. Every time she thought about it—which was pretty much constantly—her heart flipped over in her chest.

“So how long have you and Mike been dating?” Jenna asked after leading Savannah into the kitchen for hamburger fixings.

“Oh, we’re not . . . I mean . . .” Good God, she couldn’t even conjure up an explanation for this. But Jenna only laughed. She was petite and very pretty, with dark blond hair she’d been smart enough to pull back in the beach wind and kind hazel eyes. She handed Savannah a plate with a toasted bun.

“Believe me, I know how it is,” she said, directing Savannah to the lettuce, tomatoes, and pickles spread out on the kitchen island.

“We went to his brother’s concert tonight because my sister-in-law is a big fan,” Savannah explained. “And we sort of ended up here.” That sounded safe enough.

“That’s right! I’d forgotten those guys were playing tonight. One day maybe I’ll get Randall to take me to a concert. We have small kids—who happen to be with Grandma tonight—and when we get a rare night off from parenting, we’re so old and boring we’d rather just hang out here than go out.”

“I don’t even have kids and I already understand that.”

“Well, if you’re wondering,” Jenna said, pointing vaguely toward the patio doors with the knife from the mayonnaise jar, “that is a wonderful man out there. We think the world of him. I always have to tell this story about Mike whenever we meet a friend of his: when our oldest son was twelve, about three years ago, Mike saved him out there from a riptide.”

“Oh, wow,” Savannah said, momentarily at a loss for anything else to offer. “That’s amazing.”

“Risked getting caught up in it himself, but he knew exactly what to do. Just went after him like some kind of damn superhero and got him out. I had started running out there myself to go after him, but Mike yelled at me to stay, and it’s a good thing because I probably would have drowned or made him have to save me too. But he got him back while I stood on the beach a screaming, hysterical mess, watching my kid get pulled out from shore.” Shaking her head, she turned her attention back to spreading mayo on her bun. “Scariest day of my life. We owe him so much, and he waves it off like it was nothing.”

Incredible. Savannah watched his tall figure through the clear glass door, where he was chatting with his friends out on the deck and occasionally drinking from a beer can, imagining him pulling such a heroic feat. Striding from the water like some kind of sea god to return Jenna’s child to her. She must have wanted to kiss him. Savannah damn sure did. Again.

“Thanks for telling me that,” she said to the other woman. “I know it’s probably hard to talk about. But I needed to hear it.”

“I will vouch for him anytime. He’s getting a lot of shit in the press lately, you know? It makes me so mad.” Jenna abandoned the knife with a clatter on the cutting board as Savannah tensed, hoping she wasn’t about to say anything Savannah didn’t want to hear. “I guess it’s sort of to be expected, I mean, we know what opinions are like, right? Everyone has one. But don’t listen to any of that crap, not that you have been. We know him. He’s good people.”

“I believe you,” Savannah said quietly, piling lettuce and a tomato slice on her bun. She still hadn’t quite gone off alert.

“It’ll all blow over soon and everyone will be caught up in the next scandal, anyway, right?”

For that matter, they already were. Savannah mostly avoided sports news, but on the few occasions she’d let herself take a peek, there wasn’t much being said. Tommy was already becoming a distant memory. That was perhaps the saddest thing of all: how soon one could be forgotten. He wasn’t a scandal, or a tough break, she thought. He was my brother, and he was loved.

She couldn’t let herself forget.

In the end, she did have a drink—she needed it—but stopped at one. The food was delicious, and out on the deck the conversation flew fast and furious, but as the outsider, Savannah didn’t partake much after the exchange in the kitchen. Like the guy in the elevator, Jenna hadn’t meant any harm, but her words had cast a pall. She’d only wanted to defend her friend and hero, and that was okay. It was wonderful that these people held Michael in high regard, and he seemed to return the sentiment. He drank a couple of beers, joked and laughed as if this were a normal date where no one had a care in the world, and she found herself wishing so hard that it could be that way.

Why? God, just . . . why?



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