The Family You Make (Sunrise Cove #1)(58)

“I just heard myself tell you that story about Jasper, deflecting with humor, rather than having the courage to go deep, like you did.” He blew out a breath. “I came to Tahoe because my mom hinted that she needed my help with something. I ended up on that gondola with you because an hour into the visit I needed an escape. You know what happened next, and it was a week before my dad told me the reason they’d needed me. The store’s accountant was my sister’s husband. When he left her, he took all their money and vanished. My dad was worried that he’d gotten creative with the store accounting as well.”

“Oh my God. Did he?”

He pushed his plate away. “There was a month of time where no one was really on top of the books. I’ve been going through it all. And yeah, he helped himself to the kitty, getting very creative about it.”

“Oh, no.” Her heart sank for him. For his family. “Did you get the police involved?”

“Not yet. I’m not quite finished with the internal audit, but it’s bad. And my family is going to be shattered when they find out that the store is now at risk. Telling them is going to suck.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said softly. “That’s a heavy burden to carry alone.”

“I don’t feel alone at the moment.”

She didn’t question why it felt as natural as breathing to slide out of her side of the booth and into his to wrap her arms around his strong shoulders and hug him. He’d certainly consoled and supported her enough times. And when he buried his face in her hair and held on tight, taking comfort from her, something squeezed deep inside her chest in the very best of ways.

“How do you tell family that family screwed you over?” he asked.

Jane let out a small mirthless huff of laughter. “Being an expert on the being-screwed-over end of things, I’d say this—just rip off the Band-Aid rather than skate around the truth.”

“I don’t want to tell them until I have everything I need to nail my sister’s asshole soon-to-be-ex.”

“Are you always the family fixer?” she asked.

He shrugged. Which was a yes, and something deep in her gut twinged. Suddenly she felt like that once-homeless eight-year-old clutching her backpack with everything she possessed in the world, waiting for her guardians to realize what everyone always did eventually—that she was unfixable.

The waitress came by and offered them dessert. They ordered a brownie and ice cream to share.

“You still thinking of sticking around Tahoe?” she asked, digging into the brownie, dragging it through the ice cream.

He looked out at the lake. “I told myself I didn’t miss it here. But lately, when I think of this place, I feel an ache. I keep brushing it off, but since I’ve been home, it’s only gotten stronger. I think it’s an ache to be back here.”

She knew that ache, knew it well. She just didn’t know where her home was.

“Jane.”

She looked up.

“Your turn. How was your day?”

“Mostly filled with ski-related incidents. Oh, but I did meet another new friend. There’s a new hospital volunteer, and he came out to each clinic to leave books for the waiting rooms. He’s going to be starting a small library for each location. He wants to follow a theme each month, and he’s starting with wilderness and exploration. He even had cute pop-up books for kids. Such a sweet, kind man.”

“Wilderness and exploration,” Levi repeated in an oddly strangled voice. “And I suppose also the history of the region.”

“Yes! How did you know?”

“Lucky guess.” He took a long pull of his beer and shook his head. “My mom’s been demon-dialing me. They’re getting antsy, wanting to know if you’re coming to the anniversary dinner.”

“Oh.” She bit her lower lip. “I can’t think of a good excuse not to.”

He laughed.

“It’s not funny! But I promised, so yes, I’m coming to dinner. I should bring something.”

“Bring something?”

“Yes! Your real girlfriend wouldn’t just show up empty-handed at her first dinner with your parents. She’d bring something that she thought would mean something to them, a sort of a please-like-me gift.”

“Not necessary,” he said.

“It is! Help me. Can I bring something for the meal? Wine? Dessert?”

“Well . . .” He thought about it. “My mom’s a great cook, but not a great baker.”

“Okay,” Jane said, hoping her panic wasn’t showing. She was a shit baker. “I’ll bake . . . something. I’ll get a recipe from Charlotte.”

“It’s only fair that I help,” he said on a smile.

“Are you looking for pretend date number three?”

“Yes. Just name the day and time and I’ll be there.”

She’d never brought a guy home before. Not that she had a home, but she did have Charlotte and Cat, and their opinions mattered to her. She nodded, and he smiled. Then he leaned in and kissed her, his hand sliding up her throat, his fingertips sinking into her hair, his thumb gliding along her jaw. He tasted like hopes and dreams and brownies, and she was breathless when he pulled back.

“Was that pretend too?” he asked, voice low and husky.