“ARE YOU SURE we should be doing this?” Mavis asked as she and Gavin approached the farmhouse the following Sunday. Prometheus trotted ahead of them on the familiar path. A frisson of disquiet skated up her spine. Her family was inside, most likely with Harmony and Bea.
“Not getting cold feet, are you, Frexy?” Gavin wondered.
Mavis didn’t want Gavin knowing how close he was to the truth so she gave his hand a squeeze. He’d hung his ball cap on her head somewhere along the drive from the river. She was glad of its shadow right now.
She’d never introduced a guy to her family. Not because she feared the wide-reaching channels of information that branched from the Brackens to Gavin’s family back to the Leightons and others. And not just because her brother was a SEAL who would’ve intimidated any of her past romantic prospects on sight. She hadn’t introduced a man to her family because she’d made a vow not to do so after the painful incident with Aaron Quarters. Its solemnity had been restored after the affair with William Leighton.
So it was simple. She didn’t introduce a man to her parents unless he introduced her to his first.
Gavin had always been good at breaking barriers. The windows of the house loomed. Anybody could have been watching from inside yet Mavis kept her hand in his.
They were really doing this.
Honesty, he’d said. Putting everything on the table so they didn’t have to sneak around the people they respected and loved the most.
Kyle’s absence at the table would make the bombshell slightly less explosive, though repercussions would come swiftly from that department. Harmony’s inability to keep a secret was notorious.
But Mavis knew how to handle her brother. It was only by reminding him that he’d made a move on Gavin’s sister two months ago. Kyle and Harmony’s flirtation had even gone on in secret until Mavis inadvertently walked in on a make-out session.
Her parents… Mavis frowned at the windows. James and Adrian were more of a mystery. She didn’t know how either of them would react. They both liked Gavin. He’d been welcome at the table since their time at the farm began. Despite his bad reputation in school, Adrian had always given him the benefit of the doubt, and James had approached him from a position of understanding. He, too, had been the small-town rabble-rouser once.
Whether they trusted a rabble-rouser with their daughter, Mavis couldn’t be sure.
Plus, there was the important fact that Mavis just wasn’t willing to give away much about her and Gavin’s relationship. She wanted to guard what had grown between them and guard it fiercely.
Whatever was between her and Gavin remained undefined, fragile, and she feared that a hard enough wind—blown from the direction of James, Adrian or Kyle or some correlation of the three—might knock it over before it could gather strength.
She wasn’t ashamed. She was protective. She’d told Gavin her own truth—she wanted this. She wanted him. She wanted however much he could give before he felt he had to move on and find himself.
She wanted to give him the strength and confidence to do so. She hadn’t planned for anything romantic. Yet if being with her helped him find a way to stand taller against his demons, she no longer saw why they shouldn’t be together. Her regard and her feelings for him grew every chance they had. The closer she got, the closer she wanted to get.
As they climbed the steps to the porch where Prometheus waited, panting and patient, Gavin passed his free hand over his head. “I should’ve brought something for your mother.”
“She sees plenty of flowers; she’s a florist,” Mavis reminded him. “And she doesn’t keep wine or liquor in the house. What option does that leave for a proper hostess gift?”
“I don’t know. A pineapple?”
Mavis moved into his path before he could open the door. “Wait. Just a second.”
“Is this where you change my mind and turn back?”
His eyes swept quickly over her face. This close, he could see. He potentially saw everything. The niggling doubts. The expansive need. She fought the urge to look away. Touching her fingers to his shirt, she murmured, “I’m not getting cold feet. Though I do think you’re crazy for wanting to tell everyone.”
“Because they’ll overreact.”
“No.” She shook her head. “You want to tell them because not telling them means hiding. And as close as everyone is in this town, that’ll be pure exhausting.”
“Damn right.”
“I think, deep down, it’s… Don’t hate me for this.” She screwed up her face. “Honorable?”
Gavin hissed in reaction.
She nearly smiled. “I think after all this time you still respect my parents, as much as you respect Cole and Briar. Am I right?”
“Maybe I just want to creep out my sister and get good and thrashed by your brother,” he said.
“It adds up.” Fisting his shirt in both hands, she tapped her knuckles against his chest. “It adds up so much I’m inclined to think it’s awfully big of you, Petty Officer.”
He shook his head slightly. “Don’t do that.”
“Does being called ‘petty officer’ again make you as uncomfortable as ‘Freckles’ makes me?”
“If by uncomfortable, you mean ‘really want to kiss you,’ then yeah.” He smiled, slow and warm enough to make her knees ache in tune with her chest. “I’m painfully uncomfortable.”
His mouth brushed hers in a barely there tease that nearly brought her to her toes. Her palms flattened against his chest. They hummed there as he slid his lips across hers to the corner of her mouth where they firmed in a gentle kiss.
She held on, the silence holding her, and lifted to the points of her boots. Her mouth skimmed the lowest scar, just below his cheekbone. She tilted her head, following the rough tissue half an inch along the seam.
His fingers bit into the skin between her high-waisted jeans and her crop top. She felt him give against her. She absorbed him like a sun-kissed breeze.
He held her tight, tighter, for another minute. The far-off sound of clanking made Prometheus rattle off a series of barks and trot off the edge of the porch to investigate.
Mavis eased back. “It’s Dad,” she whispered, unable to gather volume. “Probably in the barn.”
“Mmm.” The mumble was rife with regret.
“More,” she promised, glancing at him through her lashes as she gripped the handle of the door. “Later.”
“Soon,” he added.
She nodded. Then she went into the house because to stay on the porch with him meant making out. They hadn’t done that since the river, and stopping what they’d done at the river had nearly killed her.
Alone, she promised herself. She’d be alone with him soon and they’d see how wild things could grow. As soon as they sorted whatever complications their families were sure to hand them. “Mom?” she called.
“What?” Adrian shouted from the back of the house. “Who’s there?”
Mavis shut the door behind them. “Uh. It’s me. Your daughter.”
“Oh. Mavis. Thank God. I’m in the kitchen!”
Mavis frowned as she moved through the house. Gavin stayed behind her, his hand spanning the curve of her hip.
The house was cozily arranged with flowers spilling out of every container. Plaid blankets were folded over armchairs. Textured rugs bled over hardwood floors marked by character. The hearth was laid with logs even if they wouldn’t be lit until fall weather chose to set in. The rooms smelled like pine and wood polish. They were cool, but warmth was abundant—in the color palette, the multitude of family photos framed on walls and tables, and the sense that this was a place where people embraced each other fully.
The earth-tone kitchen with its honey-oak cabinetry boasted enough room for entertaining. It opened into the dining area with a brawny table around which claw-foot chairs were cluttered. Mavis noted that it wasn’t yet laid with chinaware or the traditional floral arrangement. “Mom?”
“Up here.”
Mavis looked around. Her brows nearly hit her hairline when she saw Adrian standing on the kitchen counter, armed with a feather duster, a sponge and a can of Lysol. “What’re you doing?”
“Cleaning like the dickens,” Adrian answered briskly. Her arm worked in furious circles.
Mavis narrowed her eyes. “Is, um…is anything wrong?”
“Yes,” Adrian said with a decisive nod. “Oh, yes. It’s coming.”
Mavis moved toward her, wondering how to get her down. “What’s coming?”
“The fifth horseman of the apocalypse,” Adrian said, finally glancing around. She was wild-eyed. Her hair was in unusual disarray and her cheeks were flushed. “No, the Antichrist. Think of your worst nightmare, doll it up in freakishly white Keds and a fur-trimmed vest that some poor bunny had to die to make, and you’ve got it!”
Mavis’s eyes widened slowly. “Oh, crud.”
“Who’s she talking about?” Gavin asked in an undertone, as if he were afraid to spook Adrian.
“Shit on a broomstick,” Mavis said. No wonder Adrian was so agitated. Mavis turned to him. “My grandmother’s coming.”
It struck him, too, visibly. “Oh.”
James entered from the back door, letting Prometheus in with him. “Horses are shod. They’ve got plenty of hay. Mavis.” He gave her a peck on the head. “That beauty from Mobile’s starting to get friendly with Fury. They’ve been nosing along the fence for the better part of the afternoon. If the vet approves, we could have a new foal next spring. And you,” he said, pointing up to his wife. “Thanks for making that run into town for feed. Come down from there, li’l mama, so I can kiss you.”
With a nimbleness that caught Mavis further off guard, Adrian bounded down from the countertop, abandoning the cleaning in her rush. She grabbed her husband by the arms. “Run.”
James let out a half laugh. Then stopped and pressed a hand to her cheek. “Adrian…”
“My mother is coming, James. You need to run.”
His mouth fell. “Say that again?” he said numbly.
“She just called,” Adrian confirmed. “She’ll be here. Tonight. Get the hell out of here while you still can. Take Mavis with you. The last time Edith was here, she threatened to get her exorcised.”
“What, really?” Gavin asked.
Mavis sighed, pinching the space between her eyes.
James finally found his feet, sidestepping Adrian and heading straight for the exit.
Gavin dropped his voice and leaned toward Mavis’s ear. “Is he? Running?”
James stopped, doubled back and, in the spirit of a man beyond comprehension, yanked the door to the refrigerator open.
Adrian wrung her hands as James stood at the fridge. Both seemed to be in a complex state of indecision. Mavis looked from one parent to the other, trying to decide which to approach first. As her father simply stared at the organized shelves, she cautiously moved to him. “Dad?” He didn’t answer. She tried again. “Dad? Can I help you with something?”
He stood, brow knit, scowl engaged. “It’s not here.” He shook his head, as if he didn’t understand.
“What’s not here?” she asked.
“There’s no beer in this fridge.”
Mavis closed her eyes and fought not to drag her fingers through her hair. “Dad…”
The refrigerator door shut. James’s voice rang with desperation. “Why is there no beer in this refrigerator?”
“Dad!” Mavis said, raising her voice to match his. “You’re in AA! Neither you nor Mom has brought beer into this house as long as I’ve been alive!”
“I bought a drink at an Irish pub the day after you were born,” he admitted. The confession tumbled out, absently. His eyes glazed. “I didn’t drink it. Just sat there staring at it while the bartender told me some story about a good girl named Brandy and some asshole who couldn’t commit.”
“Isn’t that a song?” Gavin asked from the other side of the room, where he and Prometheus were trying to lie low.
“What a lovely story,” Mavis interjected. She grabbed James by the collar and yanked him toward the table. “This way.” Once she’d arranged him, sprawled, in his usual chair at the head of the table, she went to Adrian, tugging the feather duster away with some resistance. “Mom, go upstairs. Take a bubble bath, meditate, whatever. She’s coming. You might as well pull yourself together.”
“I haven’t done the top of the breakfront,” Adrian protested even as Mavis led her out by the elbow. “Or the chandelier. And the potatoes! You know how she is about potatoes. Mavis, who’s going to cook the potatoes?”
“Let me worry about all that,” Mavis insisted. She nearly had to chase Adrian up the stairs with the feather duster. She waited for several moments at the bottom to make sure her mother wouldn’t come back down. Then she met Gavin at the entrance to the kitchen. “I’m sorry…”
“Not tonight,” he agreed. “What can I do?”
“Call Zelda.”
“Zelda?”
“We need to fill every chair at the dinner table,” she explained. “Ask if she’s available for dinner. Tell her to bring Errol, if possible. Tell her there’s likely to be a little theater—that’ll entice her. Second…” Mavis went to the side table and opened a drawer. She drew out a pack of cards and handed them to him. “You’ll find the poker chips in the breakfront,” she informed him. “Let Dad take every dime you’ve got. It’ll give him something to think about—besides Budweiser and matriarchal woes.”
“What are you going to do?” he asked her.
She’d already rolled up her proverbial sleeves. Picking up a spray bottle and a dishrag, she said, “Clean. Cook. Whatever I have to do to get this place polished enough to satisfy one über-discerning, nausea-inducing grandmother.”
He frowned. “Good luck with that.”
The back door opened. Mavis expected to see Harmony. The person walking in gave her the second cold shock of the day. “What are you doing here?”
Kyle stopped as he tucked a long-stemmed bouquet under one arm and half embraced Prometheus, who leaped at him in greeting. “I live here,” he stated plainly.
“Son!” James crossed the room in a long gait. He hauled Kyle to him with one strong arm, clasping him in a taut hug. There he clung like a wet blanket.
“Dad.” Kyle chuckled, thumping him on the back once…then again when James didn’t let go. His brows lowered as he eyed Mavis over James’s plaid-covered shoulder. “Everything okay?”
“Edith’s coming to dinner,” Mavis said, snapping on a pair of rubber working gloves that went all the way to the elbow.
“Son of a…” The sentiment died off when Kyle’s eyes shifted to Gavin. “You’re still here?”
“Yep,” Gavin said, placing one hand on Prometheus’s head after the dog trotted back to his side. “Still here.”
Mavis fought not to reach for Gavin like she wanted to. Instead, she extracted her father from Kyle’s arms. “Dad. I told you. Sit down. Gavin’s going to play cards with you.”
“You hate gambling,” James reminded her.
“Yes, well,” she grumbled as she made sure they both took their seats, “I’ll pretend you’re knitting or something.”
“Mom doesn’t know I’m here yet,” Kyle said, snatching off his ball cap and peering through the door. “I could sneak off to Harmony’s…”
“Oh, no you don’t,” she said, resisting the urge to grab him by the beard and haul him away from the exit. “Edith likes you. You’re the buffer. You can be the one to greet her.” She took the flowers. “With these!”
“Yeah, those were for Harmony,” he stated in protest.
“Wah wah wah,” Mavis chided. “Go upstairs. Comb your hair. Shave. Then come back. Since you’re here, I’ve got a list of chores for you, too.”
Kyle groused all the way to the fridge. He opened the door.
“There’s no beer in there, son,” James called from the table.
“Yes, Daddy,” Mavis said. “We know.” At Kyle’s deep-riddled frown, she motioned with silent urgency. “Go!”
As her brother finally did as he was told, she ran her fingers through her hair to straighten it. Kyle’s arrival in addition to Edith’s slapped one conundrum on top of the other.
Mavis couldn’t fight the feeling that with Edith, the conundrums would arrive in droves and soon be stacked like pancakes.
* * *
“SO. JAMES.” EDITH took her time choosing a leaf of lettuce from her bowl. She stabbed it with her fork. “I hear you’re just getting out of prison again.”
A muted groan went up among half the occupants of the table. James, however, answered without much of a hitch. “Yes,” he admitted. “I am.”
“He was framed, Mother,” Adrian spoke up.
“Naturally,” Edith decided, folding her too-thin mouth. Her too-thin brows rose in a cleaving manner, sleek as daggers. She measured her son-in-law width-to-width. “Charles here was once a bail bondsman.” A hand rose in the direction of the man beside her who had escorted her from their retirement village in Florida. “He once dealt with criminals such as yourself.”
Adrian sighed. “James isn’t a criminal.”
“Charles,” Edith said, undeterred. “Tell the family how you caught that large man wanted for stealing a truckful of avocados.”
Charles cleared his throat, raising his napkin from his lap to his mouth where he patted his chin. “Well, it’s an interesting story—”
“Mavis.” Edith leaned forward to see around Zelda and Errol to Mavis, who’d been seated farthest away. “Are you still seeing that William Leighton fellow?”
Gavin raised his brows, hoping they sliced much in the way Edith’s did.
Mavis glanced quickly from Edith to him and back. “I… No. That’s…over. Very over.”
“A pity,” Edith said. Her fork hovered midway to her mouth. “That one would’ve done you well. He struck me as charming and levelheaded. Who are you seeing now?”
Mavis avoided looking at Gavin altogether, spooning spaghetti onto her fork with fierce concentration. “Nobody you’d find charming and levelheaded, I expect,” she muttered.
Gavin gave a grunt of laughter. He silenced himself quickly when Edith narrowed her gaze on him. She sniffed at him, then at Prometheus, who hadn’t won a seat at the table but had propped his snout on the edge between Gavin and Harmony, eyes swinging, wide and brown, to each attendee. Gavin heard him whine as Edith’s stare singed, and gave him a supportive pat.
“I think Charles should tell the story about the man and the avocado truck,” Zelda opined. “My goodness, does it sound entertaining.”
Charles opened his mouth, lighting up at the prospect, but Edith cut him off with a look. Gavin watched him deflate and wondered whether to pity the man or go on with his amusement.
“Zelda,” Edith said, eyeing her latest quarry. “You don’t look a day over seventy.”
Kyle coughed into his napkin.
Zelda cackled merrily. “And I was just thinking how well you look in that tone of rust,” she said, gesturing to Edith’s schoolmarm sweater. “Yard sale or clearance, dear?”
Edith frowned at her before looking to her next victim. “Adrian.”
Gavin placed his arm around Adrian, who was seated to his left and sinking fast into her chair. “Yes?” she asked.
“These potatoes are quite tasty, for once. What did you do to them?”
Adrian blinked several times at the woman. Gavin tapped her on the back. She shook her head then said, “The potatoes. Yes. Actually, these are Mavis’s—”
“Say thank you, Mom,” Mavis overrode her. Her eyes widened for emphasis.
“Yes,” James chimed. He was in Gavin’s blind spot, but his tone grew more intimate as he added, “Say thank you.”
Adrian exchanged a glance with him, then took a breath, reached for her water glass and said, “Thank you. Mother.”
The sound of utensils filled the quiet. Gavin cleared his throat and tilted his head toward Adrian’s. “Did that hurt?” he wondered in an undertone.
She drank deeply, then touched his sleeve, whispering, “Catch me if I pass out.”
He gave her a nod. An arm wound around her waist. Gavin caught the turn of James’s head as he pulled her in against his side and he ceded the lady to her husband.
“Kyle,” Edith said.
“Yes’m?” Kyle said.
“When is the wedding?” She gestured with her fork between him and Harmony.
Harmony froze with a mouthful of potatoes. Bea, next to her, perked up. “Wedding! There’s going to be a wedding?”
Harmony looked to Kyle. “Is there?”
Kyle was flabbergasted. “I hadn’t exactly gotten around to…”
“Well, why not?” Edith said, rapping her knuckles on the tablecloth. “Neither of you are getting any younger. You’re both in two of the most dangerous lines of work I can fathom. And by my estimate, it’s been three weeks since you visited me in Fort Lauderdale. Did you lose it already?”
“No,” Kyle said, chastened. “No. I didn’t lose it. I just got home this afternoon.”
Edith waited, expectant. When she didn’t cease, Kyle pushed his chair back from the table.
Adrian cried out when he dropped to a knee.
Gavin shook his head. “You’re doing this now?”
“You knew?” Harmony asked him. To Kyle, she said, “You told him before me?”
“I was hoping for surprise. I was also hoping to do this just the two of us…maybe in bed.”
“Get on with it already,” Mavis advised.
“All right,” Kyle said, shifting uncomfortably. “Christ.” He took the ring out of the box and said, “Harmony Savitt, you’d make me the happiest SOB on earth if you plant this big-ass diamond ring on your finger and let me be your husband.”
Bea’s loud whisper spilled into the void. “What’s does SOB spell?”
“Oh, brother,” Mavis said, burying her face in her hands as Edith threw her napkin onto her place mat and prepared to rise.
Harmony beamed. Her fingers spread as she shook her hands in front of her. “Yes! Oh, yes!” And she took his face in her hands and planted an unreserved kiss on his mouth.
“Ew,” Gavin said as everyone else, besides Edith, applauded. Prometheus’s tail thumped the floor heartily in response to the excitement. Charles gave a robust “Bravo!” before earning another quelling look from his companion.
Bea jumped between the intendeds. “Can I wear it?” she asked of the ring.
Kyle smiled at her indulgently. “Of course you can, sweet pea.”
“For heaven’s sake, don’t let the child lose it,” Edith snapped. “It was your great-grandmother’s!”
“It looks perfect on you,” Harmony cooed to her daughter. She hugged her.
“What do you think, Uncle Gavin?” Bea asked after twirling around for the others to see.
Gavin tipped his head back to see the too-big band with its overt stone hanging precariously from the child’s thumb. “You might have some growing, but ’til then—man, will it ever make a good weapon for any boy who tries to mess with you.”
Harmony had settled on Kyle’s lap now that he was back in his chair. “I’d still like to know why Gavin knew before anybody else.”
Kyle looked to Gavin cautiously. “Because when I told him about you and me, he tried to tear my guts out.”
Harmony tutted. “Uncle Gavin’s right, Bea. Boys are stupid. Stay as far away from them as long as you can stand.”
“You never said.”
Gavin caught the words from Mavis, as quiet as they were. He offered an apologetic smile. The news that Kyle planned to ask Harmony to marry him had initiated a hesitant truce between him and Gavin, especially after Kyle announced his trip to Florida to see Edith about a family ring before he returned to training. Gavin had tried to put it out of his head. It’d take some getting used to, the idea of Harmony and Kyle shacking up for life. Kyle would be his brother-in-law and, despite any issues that lay between them, they’d forever be mixed up in each other’s lives.
Gavin had a feeling some of those issues would be difficult to kill off completely. Especially if he followed instinct and pressed his relationship with Mavis out into the open where they didn’t have to hide.
“Go on, Edith,” Kyle invited, grinning from ear to ear. The SOB. “Ask us again when the wedding is.”
Edith only pursed her lips as she watched Bea wander from person to person to show off her newest accessory.
“When is the wedding?” Adrian obliged him. Her arms were around James. They grinned as one.
“Next month,” Kyle announced briskly.
Harmony all but buzzed at the haste. “That soon?”
“Apparently, we’re not getting any younger.” Kyle’s eyes softened on her. “I figure we could do it here, at the farm.”
“Oh,” Harmony sighed. “That sounds perfect.”
Gavin looked away quickly as Harmony kissed Kyle hard enough to rock their chair back.
Adrian started buzzing, too. “Yes! Perfect! We could have it out in the woods somewhere. Or in the field of wildflowers. Or…we could fix up the barn!”
“Really, Adrian.” Edith shook her head. “A barn?”
“I love that idea!” Harmony shrieked.
Edith’s jaw hit the floor. “I suppose you’ll ride in on a cow.”
“An ass,” Gavin supplied. “Big and braying.”
Harmony swatted him in response. “I want burlap. And tartan.”
Edith’s horror wove into the corners of her mouth. “How quaint.”
Kyle rubbed his lips together. “I was thinking we could celebrate now, plan later…”
“We only have a month,” Adrian said.
Harmony chimed in. “We should call Mom. And Liv. And Roxie. Roxie could plan the whole thing in a jiff—”
“So plan now,” Kyle recalculated. “Celebrate later. Before you get too far into the planning process, there’s one more thing we need to raise our glasses to.” He shifted sideways toward Gavin. “You wanna do the honors?”
Gavin’s stomach tightened, knowing instantly what he was referring to. “No. I don’t think so.”
“What is he talking about?” Mavis asked.
“It’s nothing,” Gavin said quickly.
Kyle frowned at him. “A Silver Star ain’t nothing.”
Another collective gasp rose from the table. Gavin felt the needles of attention drive straight into his hide and he squirmed.
“Gavin,” Adrian said. She gripped his arm. “Oh, Gavin. That’s wonderful.”
He began to shake his head before Zelda cut in. “A Silver Star. That sounds spectacular.”
Kyle accommodated her with an explanation. “It’s one of the highest personal decorations for valor in the US military. I was talking to my CO and he just happened to mention Gavin had picked one up about a month before he returned here.”
“I believe Errol has a Silver Star,” Zelda remembered. “Don’t you, mon saucisson?”
“What conflict were you in, sir?” Charles asked of Errol.
“Charles, you’ve left potatoes on your plate,” Edith sneered. “For God’s sake, eat them.”
“Do you drink, Charles?” James asked. Adrian cuffed him on the thigh. “Ow!” he cried out.
“A month?”
Again, Gavin raised his eyes to Mavis. He worked his jaw and gave another shrug. Scooting his chair back, he raised himself to his feet. “It’s just a formality.” As he edged away from the table, he shot Kyle straight through with a glare.
Unfazed, his friend added, “I took the liberty of telling your dad for you, too.”
Gavin stopped. The glare was honed.
Kyle swallowed a mouthful of water from his glass. “Honesty sure is refreshing, ain’t it?”
Gavin’s jaw cracked. He told himself to take a breath. Steady. But all eyes were on him, and blood was rising up his throat. He felt an eyelid twitch. His mouth opened and words tumbled out. “I kissed your sister.” Grinning what he knew to be a good, grim grin, he raised two fingers to his brow in mock salute. “You’re right; that is refreshing.”