Chapter 36
36
DEAN
T he hostess led us to a corner table on the patio. I pulled out Portia’s chair, catching her surprised smile as she settled in.
“You’re full of surprises tonight,” she said, her fingers brushing mine as I took my seat across from her.
“Didn’t know I could be a gentleman?”
“I think I knew but I feel very spoiled.”
I shrugged and took my seat. “Thought you’d like the view. And we’re celebrating.”
The view was amazing. We could see the entire stretch of shoreline—the dock, my boathouse, even the faint glow of lights from Portia’s parents’ place across the water. People were enjoying the evening on the lake in jet skis, boats, and the swimming area that was blocked off.
Portia’s eyes lit up. “Remember when Tommy tried to jump that wake on his jet ski and face-planted so hard his swim trunks came off?”
I almost choked. “Shit, I’d forgotten about that. His mom was filming the whole thing too.”
“Whatever happened to Tommy?”
“Married that girl from the rival high school. Runs his dad’s hardware store now.” I pointed to a sprawling ranch house with a red roof. “Lives there, actually.”
Portia followed my gaze, her expression softening. “It’s funny, isn’t it? How many of us came back?”
The waiter arrived with our appetizers—crispy calamari for her, bacon-wrapped scallops for me. Portia immediately stole one of my scallops, popping it in her mouth with a satisfied hum.
“Thief,” I muttered, but I was already sliding the plate closer to her.
She winked. “You love it.”
I did.
We ordered Coronas and fish tacos.
Portia swirled her beer bottle. “Remember Jessie? She moved to New York right after graduation. Said she was going to be some big-shot fashion designer.”
I nodded, taking a sip of my beer. “Yeah. Last I heard, she’s designing dog clothes or something.”
Portia laughed, the sound light and easy. “No way.”
“Way,” I confirmed. “Seth’s girlfriend—well, ex-girlfriend now—bought some ridiculous tutu for her Pomeranian from her online store.”
She shook her head, grinning. “Better than coming back with your tail between your legs, I guess.”
“Stop. You didn’t come back with your tail between your legs, Portia. You came back to start something new. That’s not failure.”
She looked down at her plate, picking at a piece of calamari. “Sometimes it feels like it is.”
“It’s not,” I said firmly. “You’re building something here. Something real. And you’re doing it on your own terms. You’re your own boss.”
She glanced up at me, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “When did you get so wise?”
I smirked. “Always have been. You just haven’t been paying attention.”
She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, she leaned back in her chair, gazing out at the lake. “What about Mark? The one who used to race dirt bikes out by the old gravel pit?”
“Mark? Moved to Charlotte, last I heard. Opened a custom car shop. Doing pretty well for himself.” I took another swig of my beer, watching as Portia’s gaze lingered on the water.
She turned back to me. “You know, it’s weird. When we were kids, I always thought everyone would leave this place and never look back. But it’s like no matter how far we go, Larkspur Lake pulls us back in.”
“Not a bad thing,” I said, my tone softer than I intended. “Some places have a hold on you.”
“I’m surprised you never left,” she said. “I imagined you would have run fast and far.”
I chuckled. “Thought about it. But I needed to be here for Seth. And then I bought the shop, started selling custom bikes, and there was no reason to go. I guess I never felt the need to run. I like it here.”
“I think I’m okay with it now. Coming back, I mean. It doesn’t feel like settling anymore.”
“Good. Because settling isn’t your style.”
As we ate, I watched her, learning all the little nuances.
“I’m proud of you, you know,” I said suddenly.
Portia paused, her taco halfway to her mouth. “What brought that on?”
I shrugged again. “Just thinking. You’re killing it in this town. And I get a front row seat.”
A blush crept up her neck. “Even after that ridiculous article?”
“Especially after that article.” I leaned forward. “Portia, they did the heavy lifting for you. Free marketing. Now everyone’s talking about your new brokerage.”
She tilted her head, considering. “When you say it like that…”
“Exactly.” I stole a piece of calamari from her plate, grinning when she swatted at my hand. “Let them talk. You’ll have the last laugh when you’re outselling every other agent in the county.”
The tension in her shoulders eased, and she raised her beer. “To proving people wrong.”
I clinked mine against hers. “To proving people wrong.”
“Don’t you find it weird that this journalist is all over me?” she asked.
“Do you know who she is?”
“No, should I?”
“She’s got a thing going with Seth,” I said. “And when I say thing, that’s all I know. It’s complicated. I don’t know what her angle is. She’s nothing like him.”
“I don’t want to sound like a snob, but this is giving jealous vibes,” she said.
“Jealous vibes?” I echoed.
“It’s a girl thing.” She shrugged. “It’s the nitpicking. Trying to tear someone down. Mean girl bullshit. I don’t know the woman. But clearly, she knows me or wants to know me.”
“Could be. Seth’s not exactly open about his personal life, but she’s been sniffing around you a lot more than anyone else trying to make it in this town. It’s suspicious.”
“Do you think she’s trying to undermine me? Or is she worried I’m going to go after Seth?”
“My turn to sound like a snob, but I don’t think it’s Seth she really wants.”
She grinned. “Aha! Now, it all makes sense. She wants you and that’s why she is trying to tear me down.”
“All speculation, but I think it’s an angle. That, and she’s just a rotten human. I’ll take care of it. She’s done enough. I’m going to let her know she needs to stop.”
“I can handle myself,” she said firmly, though her smile told me she appreciated the sentiment.
“I know you can,” I replied. “But you don’t have to.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that, but let’s let things settle. If she keeps going, then maybe. But like you said, she’s giving me lots of free advertisement.”
We finished our meal and walked back to her new office space. We tackled the remaining furniture—a bookshelf that refused to stand straight and two chairs that came with approximately nine hundred unnecessary screws. Portia knelt on the floor, her tongue poking out in concentration as she wrestled with an Allen wrench.
“Remind me why I didn’t hire someone to do this?” she grumbled. “Or just bought actual furniture.”
I tightened the last bolt on the bookshelf. “Because then we wouldn’t get this quality bonding time. I watched some show with a husband and wife doing home renovations. They fought and argued the whole time and then they would go home and act all lovey dovey.”
Portia laughed, tossing the Allen wrench aside and leaning back on her hands. She smirked, pushing a strand of hair out of her face. Her cheeks were flushed from the effort. She looked happy. Content. I liked seeing her like this, not worrying about what anyone else thought. Including me.
“Things are different,” she said.
“Different?”
She tilted her head as she looked at me. “Different good. Definitely good. It’s just when we were kids?—”
“You were a kid, and I was the older brother trying to make sure Seth didn’t do anything stupid.”
She giggled. “You never even looked at me. And now you’re actually noticing me.”
“I’ve always noticed you, Portia.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh really? Because I distinctly remember you ignoring me.”
I snorted. “I wasn’t ignoring you. I was avoiding you.”
“Why?”
“Because you are eight years younger than me, and I wasn’t interested in doing five to ten by messing around with a minor. You were very distracting, so I had to stay away from you.”
She blinked, then laughed softly. “Distracting? Me?”
“Yes and it feels gross to even say how pretty you were.”
“What about that night?” she asked quietly.
“The island?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “You didn’t even talk to me. I thought you were mad at me.”
“I was furious with my brother,” I corrected. “And seeing you like that? Vulnerable. Alone. It gutted me. But again, I was way too old to be trying to comfort you.”
She studied me. “I didn’t see it that way then. I just thought you didn’t care.”
“I cared,” I said quietly. “Too much. That was the problem.”
“Well,” she said finally, breaking the tension with a playful shrug, “I guess I should thank Seth for being an idiot that night. If he hadn’t been such a jerk, we might not be here now.”
“Yeah?”
“I thought Seth hung the moon,” she said. “I had such a crazy crush on him. But that night, I realized he was a jerk.”
“I am sorry about that,” I said again.
“Don’t be. It’s in the past.”
She stood up, brushing her hands off on her jeans and surveying the room with a satisfied nod.
“Not bad for a couple of amateurs,” she said, gesturing to the assembled furniture. “Thanks for helping me with all this. I know it’s not exactly your idea of a good time.”
“It’s been a great time,” I said. “I like hanging out with you.”
We pushed the furniture around, positioning it where she wanted it.
“So, tomorrow night,” I said.
Portia looked over at me. “Nervous?”
“No.”
“Liar.” She grinned, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. “It’s just dinner, Dean. Good food, good wine, and my mom destroying us all at Hearts afterward.”
I froze. “Hearts?”
“Family tradition. Why?”
A slow smile spread across my face. “I grew up playing Hearts on my parents’ boat. Your mom better watch her back.”
Portia’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, this I have to see. My mom sheds that sweet innocent grandma persona and turns into a card shark. You’re in for a treat. She’s ruthless. Doesn’t matter if you’re family—she’ll take your chips and your pride.”
“Good, I like a challenge.”
“Just don’t come crying to me when she cleans you out.”
I pulled her into my arms. “I’ll survive.”
Later, as we locked up the office, I realized I wasn’t nervous about tomorrow anymore. The Lake Festival dinner had been one thing—polite small talk with near-strangers. But this? This was different. For the first time in years, the thought of family, of belonging, didn’t make me want to run. It made me want to stay. Especially when it involved me being with Portia.
“I don’t know if I should drive,” Portia said as we walked to her car.
“Let’s walk,” I said. “It’s a nice night. And I’ll get to hold your hand.”
She burst into laughter. “Like we’re going steady?”
“Something like that.”