Chapter 47
PETE
Pete kept an eye on Mom during the bonfire.
He felt awful for her and couldn’t believe he missed the kiss last night.
Maybe that was a good thing, given Shelby’s revelation that Jim had staged the latest video and edited it in a way that made Mom look bumbling, all for the sake of advancing his career.
He wasn’t a fan, but now he had two issues to deal with. Jim and his own problem. Namely, Lacy.
She clung to him like superglue. She was not dressed for the weather in her skin-tight brown leather dress and spiky heels. Not that she cared; she was only here for the likes.
The beach was alight with a giant bonfire.
A stage had been erected in the sand where a band played farm tunes, and people danced barefoot.
The scent of roasting marshmallows and hot dogs permeated the air.
Lanterns and blankets lined the sand. Kids bundled in puffy coats raced in the waves to catch the receding tide.
The harvest moon hung heavy above them, glowing like a spotlight.
“Pete, Pete, Peter, let’s do a loop,” Lacy said, pulling him toward the bonfire. “The people want to see us. Let’s give them a show.”
Shelby, who’d been tagging along with them, nodded in agreement, readying her camera.
Pete wanted the night to be over, but he’d made a promise to Shelby, so he plastered on his bravest face and let Lacy drag him toward the crowd.
His feet sank into the sand as he made small talk with strangers and sipped a hoppy beer.
He was distracted by Mom. He’d spotted her and Jim chatting away from the bonfire.
They’d found a secluded section of the cove and were huddled close to each other, backlit by the stars.
Under other circumstances, it might have been an endlessly romantic scene, with smoke from the bonfire curling toward the inky sky and the calming sound of the waves lapping at the shoreline.
But Pete knew they weren’t stealing a sweet moment together.
It didn’t appear to be going well. Mom’s body language was rigid.
Her arms were folded across her chest, and her jaw was set.
He could tell that Jim was trying to plead his case, and Mom wasn’t buying it.
She waved her finger at him in response to whatever he said as her face hardened.
Good for her for sticking up for herself.
Not that he anticipated she wouldn’t. She was the strongest person he knew.
All the more reason he needed to tell her the truth about his search and hiring the private detective.
“Have you met my Pete? My Petie Pete,” Lacy gushed to a friend, draping her arm over Pete and kissing his neck and cheeks.
PDA wasn’t really his style. Lacy had no problem with public displays of affection.
She was constantly touching him—rubbing his arm, leaning against his body, caressing his hands, or kissing him.
He tried to tap into his acting skills, but it wasn’t working. He was sure his discomfort was apparent on his face.
Just get through tonight.
One more night.
He could handle this for a few more hours. But then Lacy threw a curveball his way.
“Have you heard the news?” she asked a friend.
“Voyager is flying us to Paris in a weekend. The city of love. We’re going to do an entire Paris-in-the-fall tour—vineyards, the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, romantic outdoor bistros, and a stroll along the Seine.
Isn’t that wonderful? I see a proposal in our future soon.
Very soon.” She stretched out her hand and tapped her empty ring finger.
Pete gulped.
She couldn’t be serious.
Propose?
Since when?
And in what world?
He untangled his arm from Lacy. “I’ll be back shortly.” Then he turned to Shelby. “Can I borrow you for a minute?”
Was this the Voyager way? She was just as bad as Jim. Was she going to tell him about Paris?
He stomped through the sand, leaving the sparks from the bonfire behind, and headed for his spot.
Shelby had to run to keep up with him, but he didn’t care.
This was a step too far. He’d never agreed to traveling internationally with Lacy.
“What is Lacy talking about?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest. “Paris?”
“Yeah, sorry about that.” The moonlight kissed her cheeks, making her look even more beautiful.
He cut her off. “No. I can’t go to Paris. I’m not going. And I’m not at all ready to propose. What the hell—propose?” His body locked up at the mere suggestion. It was absurd. “We barely know each other. Geez, this is way out of control.”
“Pete, listen to what you’re saying.” She held up a finger. “We would never push that agenda or force you to propose. That’s ridiculous.”
His body remained taut, firmly rooted on the sand as he squinted at her.
She leaned closer and gave him a funny smile. “But I mean, who wouldn’t want a free trip to Paris?”
“Me.” Pete pointed to his chest and raised his arms. He knew Shelby was trying to break the tension, but this had gone too far. “Look, I have a job and a life. Responsibilities. I can’t just take off for Paris next weekend, and I think I’m out, completely. This is all a lot. I made a mistake.”
Shelby reached for his arm but stopped herself at the last moment. “Pete, I get it. You don’t need to propose, but I don’t think you realize how lucrative this is going to be. You’re not going to need a day job. This will become your full-time job.”
“I don’t want a new job. I’m perfectly content with my current situation.” Did she not get it? Couldn’t she see he was totally into her? Not Lacy.
“But I’ll be able to arrange to send you to Milan and Madrid. Paris. Rome. You name it.”
“I don’t want to go to any of those places, especially not with Lacy. I’m sorry. I can’t fake it. I told you I’d get through tonight, but this isn’t going to work.”
Shelby looked like she’d been punched in the gut. “What do you mean, get through tonight? I thought you were super into Lacy. You both seem very smitten.”
Pete sighed. She was leaving tomorrow. It was now or never. If he had any chance with her, this was his last shot. “No, I’m dying here. She is not my type.”
“She’s not?” Shelby chose her words carefully, as if she didn’t trust them.
Was it his imagination, or was that relief on her face? He didn’t want to hope, but should he? Could he?
“No.” He inched closer. Their faces were nearly touching. He could smell her minty breath and a touch of sunscreen on her skin. Heat surged through him. He needed to kiss her—now. He wanted her in his arms.
“Wow, you’re a good actor.” Shelby’s voice quivered slightly. “I honestly thought you were kind of into her.”
“Into Lacy?” He felt his throat swell. He wanted to kiss her so bad. Should he do it? “No. Not my type.”
“What is your type? I can find you someone else.” Shelby took a tiny step closer, too.
Their faces were so close, he could feel her breath on his cheek and see her heart beating against her chest. “I like women from rainy states. Rainy, dreary, gray states. I’m attracted to women who are willing to be vulnerable, who can cry in front of me.”
“Oh, you like criers, huh?” She grinned.
“Especially beach criers. They’re the best.” He couldn’t help himself. He reached out and cupped her chin. Then he leaned down and kissed her softly, tenderly. For a minute, he thought she might pull away, but instead she grabbed his hair and kissed him harder.