Bungalow Nights(62)

“They’re not a Smith. They don’t have Smith & Sons Foods as a first priority.”

“It would be my first priority.” It was what he’d wanted since he was first following Granddad around, begging to be lifted high to pick the first fruit of the season.

“It’s hard to be one of a pair of brothers,” his father said slowly. “Don’t think I don’t realize that. Remember, I was raised with your uncle Roy. You get labeled within your family. Within your community. It’s not always fair.”

Bemused, Vance narrowed his eyes, trying to see his father’s expression in the dark. “What label did you get?”

“That doesn’t matter,” his dad said. “What matters is...is that this family heals. That we bring you back home, son.”

Vance wasn’t sure he’d heard right. “Does that mean I’m in?”

“Your uncle and your brother and I already discussed it. Frankly, Baxter insisted we consider the possibility you’d join us. But I wasn’t convinced it was something you wanted.”

Only all my life. “I do, Dad. I do.” He hesitated, then got the last item off his chest. “And I want you to know I understand why you refused to let me in all those years ago. I was a screwup and I couldn’t be trusted. But I won’t let you down now.”

“Son.” His father hung his head. “I think I let you down. There were other ways I could have handled that moment...and many after. Your mother says I have a stubborn streak.”

“Like father, like son.”

And this time when they laughed, it wasn’t strained.

Vance slid his hand from his pocket. “Shake?”

His father’s palm met his and then he reeled Vance in. The hug was hard, and his father’s free hand gave his short hair a brisk rub. “We’ll be ready for you when you’re free to come home.”

“I don’t have to go back to the army.”

The older Smith pushed away. “What? Really?”

“I could go. But I was told that my injuries would allow me a medical discharge if I asked for it. I will.” He wasn’t conflicted about the decision at all, he realized. It was time to get out. Helping those kids today had opened his eyes and maybe even given him the permission to do so.

And there was that new, clear path ahead. He was more than ready for a smooth ride.

His father yanked him into another embrace. “Your mother will be over the moon,” he said gruffly. Then he added, “I love you, son.”

Vance breathed deep of the dark night and let the sense of rightness put down roots in his soul. This was the life he was meant to live. His future was settled now, and a new calm settled over him. He and the avocados would hum well into the future, he thought, healthy and strong.

They headed back a few quiet minutes later. As they approached the French doors leading to the house, Vance slowed, absorbing the tableau provided by the well-lit billiards room.

His uncle and brother were still gathered around the play table, but they had turned their backs to it as his mother and aunt came in bearing trays of coffee and dessert. Blythe moved to take a plate that she apparently planned to share with Fitz—they, Vance thought, would be f*cking perfect together. His uncle was bent over the offerings, probably trying to decide which was the largest slice of chocolate cake.

“Dad,” Vance said, still watching. “I gotta know. How were you and Uncle Roy labeled?”

“Uh...”

Vance elbowed the older man. “C’mon.”

“Fine.” William sounded disgruntled. “I was the serious brother, while Roy was known as the funny one. The life of any party. And it ticked me off, okay? I had this great impression I did of Robert De Niro—” He broke off when Vance hooted with laughter.

“Sorry, Dad,” he said, trying to stifle it. “But you? Robert De Niro?”

“All right,” his father conceded. “It was actually a terrible impression. Still... Hey, where’s your girl?”

Vance pointed to the farthest corner of the room where Layla was curled up on a leather chair, a magazine on her lap. Shit. That wasn’t a happy expression on her face, he thought. He shouldn’t have left her by herself for so long.

“I like her, Vance,” his dad said. “She’s a very good choice.”

Vance opened his mouth to come clean about Layla, too. They weren’t really anything to each other...but then he saw her head come up, her attention shifting across the room to where his family stood in that tight group, laughing together over something his uncle, the funny brother, had said. The yearning on her face was easy to read—and pierced his heart.

It cracked open as he watched her, sitting alone, apart, outside that small circle of people. Sweet Lord. His palm pressed, hard, over his unlocked and aching heart as a new, insistent need surged in his chest. He wanted to give them to her, Vance realized. He wanted to give her his family.

He wanted to be her family. Tied to her forever.

Because the idea of parting from her was excruciating. Her natural beauty, her joy in things as simple as cupcakes and sandcastles, the way she made him laugh—so often at himself—lightened every day. She’d become his sunshine, he thought, her warmth and brightness making him damn glad to be alive.

And on those occasions when her ordinarily sunny nature was shadowed by sadness, he wanted to be the one to hold her, comforting her during the darker times. He knew he’d be good at it, just as she was so good for him.

His breath caught. Damn, he thought, astonished, I’ve gone and done it.

I’ve gone and fallen in love with her.

“Are you going to tell everyone tonight?” his dad asked.

No! God, no, Vance thought, panicking a little. Being in love shocked the hell out of him. His mind could hardly believe the words, let alone say them. His pulse rocketed. “I don’t think—”

“Your mother will be so relieved to know you’re staying home and joining the business. I predict double desserts.”

His heartbeat slowed some. “Oh. Okay. Yeah. We can talk about that.”

Would he have a talk with Layla, too? A private, cards-on-the-table conversation? But maybe it was better if he didn’t—he was just at the beginning of a new phase of his life, after all, and he could give it some time, see how he felt in a few days, weeks, months. Wait a while before putting his heart on the line.

Yeah, he told himself, almost relieved. Being in love didn’t demand declaring it.

Except...

Except when it did.

Maybe Baxter was right again, Vance thought, watching as his aunt kissed her husband’s cheek and Blythe fed Fitz a piece of cake from her fork. All that marital bliss made a man expect things. Want things for himself.

And he wanted all things with Layla, his brown-eyed girl, to the marrow of his bones. When had she found her way so deeply inside him? Last night, when she’d mourned for her father in his arms? The day she’d come out of the spa and pointed her newly painted toes in girly pleasure? Or was it the morning after they’d first made love, when they’d shared a moment of quiet companionship and a cup of coffee?

Whatever the case, his future wasn’t going to be complete without her in it.

Wouldn’t you know? he thought, with a rueful shake of his head. Just when the track ahead appeared clear and smooth, his life had gone right off the rails.





CHAPTER TWENTY



RIDING BACK TO BEACH HOUSE NO. 9, Layla regretted the two glasses of champagne she’d tossed back after Vance had announced his impending return to the family business. She’d already had wine with dinner, hoping that alcohol could smooth her jagged emotions. Under the circumstances, who wouldn’t be feeling more than a little rocky? Minutes after acknowledging she might have fallen in love with Vance, she’d almost been witness to his death.

Maybe she made a little sound of distress, because he glanced over at her. “Are you okay?”

She would be, she told herself. Just as soon as she managed to reclassify her feelings for him. It wasn’t love, she’d decided after that first fizzy glass of champagne. It was infatuation. By morning, after a night’s sleep alone in bed, she’d be sure of that.

“Layla?”

“I’m...I’m just thinking of those kids,” she lied. “I hope they’re all right.”

“I thought you were there,” he answered, puzzlement in his voice, “when the driver’s dad called and reported that his son and the other two are going to fully recover. They have bumps and bruises and Marshall broke a leg, but all of them will heal.”

“That’s right,” she replied, resting her head against the back of the seat. “I remember now.”

“You’re tired,” Vance said, and he reached over to caress her cheek with his thumb. “Close your eyes and take a nap until we get to Crescent Cove. I’d like us to have a talk when we’re back at the beach house.”