Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Diego drove straight to Rocco’s house. The whole way over there, his sudden epiphany bounced around in his head like a ping-pong ball.
Daisy had clearly spent a lot of years resenting him for what he’d done, for how he’d shut her out, closed himself off to what was happening in her life.
But at the time, his life had been a chaotic disaster.
But he’d nursed a grudge for a decade now, and though he liked to pride himself on being a stand-up guy, a good man, the truth was that he hadn’t always been.
Rocco was currently living in their childhood home with Tyler. There were a lot of memories associated with the place, and it seemed like every single one of them were pummeling Diego as he walked up the path.
The last time he’d been here had been the day of his dad’s funeral. After, he’d packed to leave and never came back. He’d stood on this very walkway, a duffle bag over one shoulder, facing off with Rocco, who hadn’t wanted him to go.
Ironic, since after their dad’s diagnosis two years before that, Rocco had taken off for the Caribbean to blow off steam.
And he’d stayed gone until that day.
For Diego, it’d been too much. His dad was gone, and so was he.
Rocco opened the door to his knock, and for a moment, Diego couldn’t tell the past from the here and now.
Tyler came up behind Rocco, a hand on his fiancé’s shoulder whether in solidarity or restraint, Diego didn’t know. Diego met Tyler’s eyes. At whatever the man saw there, he nodded, squeezed Rocco’s shoulder, and then left the brothers alone.
“Hey,” Rocco said, clearly stunned to see him. “Uh…everything okay?”
“Yeah.” Diego shook his head. “No. Listen…I just wanted you to know that I get it now. If I’d had a chance to be with someone I was in love with in the Caribbean, I’d have stayed gone, too.”
Rocco blinked and scrubbed a hand over the top of his head in a move that Diego recognized as one his father used to do all the time when he didn’t know what to say. Even as he thought it, Diego caught himself doing the same thing and stopped.
But not before Rocco gave him a small, wry smile. “Apple and tree and all that.”
“Yeah.”
“You going to invite him in?” Tyler called from somewhere in the house. “Or stand there staring at each other like a pair of idiots?”
Another flash of a wry smile from Rocco, who backed up to let Diego in.
They ended up in the kitchen at the table where Diego had spent years doing homework, eating them out of house and home, and learning to cook so they didn’t starve.
The electric outlet by the toaster on the counter still had black smudge marks from the time he’d almost burned the house down making grilled cheese.
Tyler served them tea and then gave them both a kiss on top of their heads before he left the room.
“He means well,” Rocco said but rose. He pulled a bottle of brandy from a cupboard and dumped a liberal amount into both teas.
They sat across the table from each other, awkward. Silent. Tense.
“I came to apologize,” Diego said. For all those years of silence and resentment and—”
“Don’t. Don’t apologize, not to me.” Rocco pushed his untouched tea aside and took a swig straight from the brandy bottle. “I don’t deserve it. We both know I don’t. I deserted you, Diego.”
Diego drew in a deep breath. “Yeah. But after talking to Daisy, I realized I did the same thing to her that you did to me. And I had my reasons for it. They were even good ones. But I don’t want to be that guy. I’m sorry I was that guy.”
Rocco’s breath came out in a whoosh. “And I’m sorry I was a selfish dick. The fact that I always have been, isn’t an excuse, I know. But I regret like hell what I did.” He paused for another moment. When he finally went on, his voice was thick with emotion. “I’ve missed you, man.”
The words washed over Diego like a healing balm, and he nodded. “Missed you, too.”
Rocco stood and hauled Diego out of his chair as if he didn’t weigh anything and pulled him in for a bear hug. After a long moment, Rocco pushed back. “Wait a minute. If you just had that conversation with Daisy, then why the hell are you here with me? Why aren’t you guys making up for lost time?”
Diego shook his head and turned away.
“What does that mean?” Rocco asked Diego’s back. “I saw how you two looked at each other.”
“We’re not going there. I’m leaving right after the wedding.”
Rocco turned him around and stared at him as if Diego had lost his mind. “You can’t be serious.”
“Of course, I’m serious. I don’t live here anymore.
I live in San Diego, where I’ve got a great job being in charge of a fleet of tourist boats.
I also work once a week at a tattoo shop for a buddy of mine, so I get that fix, too.
Everything’s good down there for me.” Or it had been until he’d come back here and realized how little he actually felt anymore—about anything.
He’d felt more in the past few days here than he had in years.
Rocco’s expression said that he called bullshit.
His words proved it. “Let me give you three reasons why you should stay,” he said tightly.
“One, you should be tattooing for our family legacy, at The Canvas Shop. I miss you there, big time. And you could be working at the marina here in San Fran, as well. You remember Jake?”
“Of course.” Diego and Rocco had gone to school with Jake, who’d gone straight into the military after graduation and had come home a paraplegic. He now owned and operated a fleet of tourist boats near Pier 39.
“He’d hire you in a hot minute to do what you’re already doing for someone else.”
“I like San Diego.”
“Which brings me to points two and three,” Rocco said. “San Diego doesn’t have me. And even more importantly, San Diego doesn’t have Daisy.”
Diego shook his head. “It’s not that easy, Rocco.”
“Again, bullshit.”
Back on his boat later that night, Diego had to shake his head.
He’d somehow been talked into hanging out at the tattoo shop the next day before his next wedding task, which was picking the wedding band from the final five.
Because according to Rocco, if he let Tyler do it, a decision would never get made.
Diego’s head was spinning, and he had to keep repeating the words he’d given Rocco—it’s not that easy…
But then he thought about how it’d felt to be with his brother again, how much he liked seeing how happy he was with Tyler, and how it would feel to have them back in his life.
Then he thought about Daisy, and how right it’d felt with her the other night. And not even just in bed, but out of it, too. Talking. Laughing. Just being… It’d all felt shockingly right.
It’s not that easy…
Nothing ever was, not in his experiences.
But maybe…just maybe this time it could be.
The next evening, he was just getting off his bike in front of Daisy’s place when she stepped outside in a long-sleeved knit dress that clung to her curves in a way that made his mouth water.
Or maybe that was her knee-high black leather boots.
She was shrugging into a leather jacket when she saw him and froze.
“What are you doing?” she asked. “I assumed we were meeting at the first venue.” She had a list in her hand and looked at it. “The band’s going on in thirty minutes.”
“Yes,” he said. “I got the same list. But mine says to pick you up.”
They stared at each other.
“You know,” she said slowly. “I’m starting to smell a rat.”
“Two of them.”
She pulled out her phone and hit a number. She put it on speaker and tapped her toes impatiently. “Hey,” she said when Rocco answered. “Why didn’t you tell me you were having Diego pick me up?”
“I’m sure I mentioned it,” Rocco said.
“You didn’t.”
“Huh. Sorry, honey. Wedding brain. I can’t keep a thought in my head. Is there a problem?”
Daisy looked up into Diego’s eyes. Once upon a time, he’d been able to read her like a book, and the skill was coming back to him. Like getting on a bike. She was thinking, yeah, she had a problem, and its name was Diego. He smiled.
She rolled her eyes. “No problem,” she told Rocco and disconnected. “Let’s get this over with.”
The first venue was a restaurant and bar on the wharf, with a deck that was suspended over the water.
It was packed. The band was playing top hits from the ’80s, and they were good enough that when Daisy started moving to the beat with a tantalizing, hopeful smile, Diego took her hand and led her out to the dance floor.
As he remembered all too well, she could move.
And watching her lose herself in the fun and the music loosened him up in a way that he hadn’t felt in a long time.
It made him feel like he’d been drinking.
Unable to resist, he tugged her to him when a slow song came on, and they moved together as one.
“Miss this,” he murmured against her ear, the words escaping without conscious thought.
“San Francisco?”
“You.”
She stared up at him with those big eyes.
“You don’t believe me?”
“I’d like to think you missed me,” she said. “As much as you’d miss, say, Weener Works..”
He smiled. “How do you know I didn’t?” ,
Biting her lower lip, she rolled her eyes, whether at herself or him, he had no idea. “I know.”
His smile vanished. “You’re wrong. I missed you more than I’d miss Weener Works. I missed you with my entire being.”
“I missed you, too,” she finally whispered. “Even when I was still angry and hurt, I missed you.” She hesitated. “So much.”
“Daisy…” Pulling her in a little tighter, he ran a hand up her spine and into her hair, wrecked at the thought of how much he’d hurt her. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to desert you. I had no idea—"
She put a finger over his lips. “We’ve already lost so much time being mad at each other.. You don’t have to apologize again. I mean…” Her tone lightened. “Unless you do something else stupid enough to warrant an apology.”
Warmth filled a hole in his chest that he didn’t even realize he had. “I don’t plan on it.”
“Good to know.”