Chaser (Dive Bar #3)(82)

“The idiot thinks you’re some fragile princess or something that he needs to protect. And that he doesn’t want to pressure you by letting you know that some part of him will die if we sell his bar to a bunch of soulless suits. But I know you’re not that fragile.” Nell smiled gently. “You’re tough. You wouldn’t have moved here alone in the first place if you weren’t. I know there have been some downsides, but you’ve been happy here too. Thank about staying, Jean. Please. Maybe we’re selfish, but we don’t want to lose either of you.”

Slowly, I gave her fingers a squeeze, watching her face carefully. Her gaze moved from me to take in every member of the circle of people I might just be about to kill if they’d upset her. God knows what she was thinking.

“I don’t think you’re a fragile princess,” I grumbled. “But I do love you.”

“I love you too.”

Fuck, my heart. It was hammering. I rubbed at my chest with the palm of my hand, trying to get it to settle down.

She smiled. “I should have told you that already. It’s just, I’ve been too scared to commit to anything: you, being here…”

I said nothing, just waiting.

“Mostly, I was scared something would happen and I’d lose you,” she said. “That being here with you wouldn’t work out somehow, like how things didn’t work out back home.”

I drew her up onto her feet, holding her close. “You’re not going to lose me. Whatever you decide.”

A tear spilled down her cheek and I swore again.

“I’m okay,” she said, then pointed over near where Joe stood. “But, Eric, they’re right. This is your bar. Florida isn’t home anymore, not really. All of my best memories are here.”

“What are you saying?”

Jean’s shoulders rose as she sucked in a deep breath. “Let’s stay. I want to stay.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded, more tears spilling over. Her beautiful blue eyes were red-rimmed.

“Stop crying,” I said, swiping gently at her cheeks. “You’re killing me, sweetheart.”

“I’m happy.”

“Then why are you crying?”

“I don’t know.”

Grinning, I wrapped her back up in my arms. And the idiots all around us, the family, they actually broke out into cheers. Someone suggested champagne, but Joe had the good sense to start pouring beers. Various people slapped me on the back, giving Jean’s arm a friendly squeeze. And maybe I kind of appreciated their help after all.

“I should have talked to you,” I said, resting my head against her hair.

Jean sniffed. “We got there in the end, with a little help.”

“Eh,” screeched Ada. Always knowing exactly what to say.





EPILOGUE

“You’re sure this is how you want to do it?” asked Nell, her new baby Samuel held tight in her arms.

“Yes,” I said. “Definitely. Damn the cliché. It feels right.”

“Okay.” Her red brows drew together, and she shot a look at Jean. Blissfully unaware, Jean was still seated happily at the long center table, talking to Joe. “Do you think she suspects?”

“The woman does not have a clue.”

Nell kept rocking Samuel in her arms, a kind of contented look on her face whenever she looked at the little guy. It was sweet. “You’re going to have to make a speech, you know.”

“What?” Shit. “I’ll make it up as I go along.”

“Sure you don’t want to go romantic and do it when you two are alone?” she asked.

Trust Nell to inspire me with a vote of confidence. “No. This is right.”

It was a slow night at the Dive Bar, perfect for what I had planned. We’d called everyone in for a group dinner. Officially, the reason was that Nell, Lydia, and I had formally rejected the resort’s final offer to sell the bar. After we rebuffed their initial approach, they had come back with an inflated figure, and a formal offer of purchase. But once Jean had settled on staying in town, there was just no reason to seriously consider the possibility. Deep down, we all belonged to the place. It was ours, like a second home.

Outside, the weather was warm, typical summer in Coeur d’Alene. Jean’s nose was still pink from our expedition to the beach yesterday. Ada loved the water, despite the screaming fits bath time sometimes seemed to bring on. Go figure. She was a complicated little girl. I think she just liked to let loose with the yelling occasionally, make her voice heard. Perhaps, many years from now, she’d be the lead singer of a rock band and all of this practice would come in handy. That would be cool.

“What if she swallows it?” asked Nell, the concerned look back again.

I scoffed. “She’s not a toddler. It’s a decent size rock, she’s not going to swallow it.”

“Alright.”

“You’re freaking me out with all the questions, Nell,” I grumped. “Stop it.”

“I was just—”

“You’ve been reading too many baby books. It is not a choking hazard,” I said. “It’s an offer of marriage.”

“Sheesh. Fine, Uncle Eric. We know when we’re not wanted,” Nell griped to Samuel. “Don’t we baby?” She wandered back over to the table. Pat moved in beside her and gently stroked Samuel’s little hand. They made a nice family. A good one. And that’s what everything was about, really. Family.