Remi brought her hands to her flushed cheeks and watched in delight as her parents whirled past her to a Zac Brown Band tune. At some point in their thirty-five years together, they must have taken dance lessons because they practically sailed across the dance floor in perfect unison.
Darlene and Gilbert Ford got each other. They were wildly different yet still managed to stay in sync.
Kimber and Kyle were at a table, avoiding eye contact.
And Brick, in that fucking sexy tie, was everywhere at once. Keeping an eye on the food, restocking plates, and generally wielding control over the chaos. And shooting her looks that made her knees go weak. It was clear that he was mad. It wasn’t clear what he was mad at. Especially since he’d seemed fine between their orgasms.
But even pissed at her, he was still there making sure her parents had the best last-minute surprise anniversary party possible.
He was so good, so solid and sturdy.
Like her father, Brick Callan would always be there.
But he was holding himself back. And so was she. Worse, Remi didn’t know if either of them had it in them to go all in.
She went with the flow. Stayed open to opportunity. She didn’t tie herself down as a rule. That’s what a relationship with Brick would be. At least a real one. He wouldn’t exactly collar her and keep her tied to a bed. But wouldn’t she feel the obligation to be more of what he wanted, less of what she wanted?
And what about all those past rejections? Just because they’d gone farther in the past few weeks than they ever had didn’t mean there wasn’t still progress to be made. Didn’t mean he would want to take her on. She was too loud, too emotional, too chaotic. It’s what had kept him at a distance for fourteen years.
Sex couldn’t magically make things easier.
Her parents were the unicorns, she decided, watching as Darlene spun around in a short black dress that showed off her long legs. In the only impractical pair of shoes she owned, she was the same height as her husband.
They looked happy. They practically glowed with it.
And then there was Kimber and Kyle. Barely twelve years into their marriage, they’d gone from hot and heavy high school sweethearts to roommates who couldn’t communicate their most basic needs.
This was the reality of most of the relationships Remi saw. People didn’t stay happy. Hell, most times they didn’t even stay together.
What would happen when things ended with Brick? Would Mackinac still feel like home? Or would she avoid the island even more than she had after his marriage?
His marriage to her best friend. They still hadn’t talked about it. It wasn’t a topic of conversation for acquaintances or casual lovers. And she wasn’t sure she would like the answers she got.
The Audrey Remi remembered from high school was pretty, book smart, and easygoing. She’d never witnessed sparks flying between her best friend and her crush. The sparks had been reserved for Remi and Brick. Yet he’d pursued Audrey, married Audrey. The reliable one. The comfortable one. The easy to love one.
She remembered the hurt, the utter devastation. She’d been invited to their wedding, had actually come back to Mackinac with the intention of going. Of showing Brick that he didn’t have her heart anymore. But when it came time, she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t bear watching him pledge himself to another woman.
So she’d feigned the flu and then told herself that it was just the remnants of a silly teenage crush. She pretended that she was more hurt by Audrey not telling her they were even dating. Their friendship had fizzled somewhere after high school and college. Somewhere along the line, Audrey and Brick had become strangers to her with their own lives apart from hers.
She watched Brick, sleeves rolled up as he traded an empty chafing dish for one full of pulled pork, her father’s favorite.
He was a caretaker, a protector by nature. He wasn’t open to the wild tumble of life, the flow of picking up and moving on. He was a monument. Cast in stone and planted in permanence. And sooner or later, he was going to break her heart again.
Only this time, it would be worse.
How would she survive? How would she look at him across the table in her parents’ dining room and not remember the filthy promises he’d whispered in her ear as his body had taken hers to new heights?
This couldn’t work out. It was destined to end horribly. Maybe that’s why he’d fought the attraction so valiantly. Maybe Brick always understood the potential damage while she was only beginning to realize the truth.
Kyle was staring at his phone, thumbs flying across the screen, as his wife danced with Ken. Hadley and Ian were working their way through their parents’ abandoned slices of cake.
A soul could wither up and die in that kind of life, Remi realized. Even if he wanted her to stay. Even if she gave it her all, there was no guarantee they wouldn’t find themselves in a similar position. And when it ended, everything would be different.
“You look like you could use this,” Darius said, appearing at her side with a frothy orange drink.
“Me?”
“Yes, Ms. Paler Than a Snowman. What’s wrong? Is it your asthma?”
“It’s not my asthma.” It was her stupid freaking heart trying to break itself to pieces over the same man for a third time. “When are people going to stop treating me like an invalid?”
“Maybe when you stop looking so Disney princess-eyed and fragile?”
“Eww. Shut up.”
He nudged her shoulder. “What are we wasting our time bickering for when there’s a dance floor begging for us to wow it?”
Remi drained her drink and did what she did best, blocked out everything but the present moment. “Let’s show ’em what we’ve got.”
After a few energetic laps around the dance floor, Darius deposited her in her brother-in-law’s arms and headed back to the bar.
“Hey,” Remi said.
“Hey yourself.” Kyle Olson’s nickname when Kimber met him was Pretty Boy. It still fit. He had neatly coiffed blond hair, wore dark suits with skinny ties, and flashed a charming smile that disarmed juries and—at one time—her own sister.
Brick walked past them and leveled her with a heated glare that made her feel like her dress was on fire.
“How’s your friend’s novel going?”
Remi missed a beat and stepped on Kyle’s foot.
“My what? Oh! It’s good. Good.”
“You had me worried that you were in some kind of trouble.” Kyle was a trial lawyer. He had a bullshit meter that was more sensitive than most.
“Speaking of worried,” she said, dodging his unasked question, “what is going on with you and my sister?”
His jaw tightened. “I wish I knew.”
“You’re going to work this out,” she said firmly. They had been so in love once. The idea that it could all just disappear was heartbreaking.
“I would if I knew what the problem was. Every time I ask her, she shuts down.”
“Do you ask her like her super cute husband who cares about her and wants her to be happy, or do you ask her like she’s a hostile witness under cross-examination?”
His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “There’s a difference?”
“Ha. But seriously.”
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Kimber said into a microphone borrowed from the DJ booth. “It’s time for a walk down memory lane.”
Darlene perched on Gil’s lap, each with a glass of champagne, and gestured for Remi to sit next to them.
“Get over here, Brick,” Darlene said, waving him over. “Join the family.”
Remi’s body tingled as he took the chair behind her.
When the lights dimmed, Brick tugged her chair backward until she was caged in between his long legs. His warm, rough palm cupped the back of her neck possessively, and she relaxed. His touch was a drug that could soothe and arouse.
Prince’s song “Kiss” blared from the speakers, producing a fine mist of yellows and oranges before Remi’s eyes. The colors of happiness.
The crowd “awed” over the earliest pictures of Darlene and Gil’s relationship. ’80s hair. Ripped denim. Hair spray. They were so young and full of hope.
Young Darlene looked at the skinny, gawky Gilbert like he’d hung the stars in the night sky.
The photos tracked a timeline of love and laughter. An entire lifetime of happiness, Remi realized. Sure, it was a highlight reel. There had been fights and frustrations. There had been late nights with vomiting children and long talks about discipline. There had been bills to pay and parents to mourn. There had been rough patches and uncertainty. But they’d made a commitment to each other to grow and change together.
Tears filled her eyes as the happy couple stared down at fresh-to-the-world baby Kimber, sleeping peacefully as her parents gazed at her with awe. A family now.
There was Darlene, pregnant, working the dispatch desk at the station. Gilbert with his bushy mustache and plaid corduroys. Brick’s hold on her tightened almost imperceptibly at the next picture. A tiny, red-faced, red-haired baby frozen mid-scream.
They’d made room for her. Loving her as fiercely as she’d loved them. Even though she’d been different. Even though she’d been too much and not enough.
Was a life like this possible? Could she build one?
She reached behind her and put a hand on Brick’s rock hard thigh, reassuring herself that he was still there.
The song changed to Kool and the Gang’s “Cherish,” and the colors she saw shifted accordingly to purples and blues.
With care, Brick laced his fingers through hers and squeezed her hand, connecting them despite his unexplained anger, despite her confusion and fears. It was real and binding.
What he hadn’t shared with her created a valley between them. But what they’d shared together, the intimacy, the vulnerability, bridged it.
She was electrified sitting there with him in the dark. As if her entire being was plugged into his. As if those broad shoulders and wide chest were the home she’d sought. As if he was a beacon in the dark, a lighthouse.
The craving to have his hands on her, even now, even among family and friends, was overpowering. Handholding had never been erotic before. It had never signified anything more than a flirtation. But in this moment it took on the weight of this secret between them, the weight of the secrets he carried. She felt the steady strength in his grip and knew that her body belonged to him even if her heart and mind couldn’t trust it.
They needed to talk. Needed to set things straight. Needed to remember where they’d come from and where they were heading.
His thumb skimmed over hers as the screen followed the now teenage sisters and their parents. And there was Brick. It had to have been one of his first days on the island. He was standing in the Ford kitchen, cowboy hat on, quietly observing. He was so young. And there was hurt in the set of his shoulders. Sixteen-year-old Remi was standing in front of him, head tilted way back. She was smiling smugly up at him as if to say, “You’re already mine. I’ve already won.”
She’d loved him.
The truth of it struck true like an arrow. From day one, she had loved Brick Callan, and he’d broken her heart twice. What kind of a masochist kept coming back, kept asking for more?
She wanted to run. Wanted to get out of the tent, away from everyone. Wanted to turn up her music and pick up a brush and lose herself in the feelings. She wanted to exorcise the feelings onto canvas to make sense of them. How could she love a man she didn’t trust with her heart?
How could she trust him not to hurt her again? He would protect her. She had no doubt of that. Brick would lay down his life for her. But would he share it?
Dizzy, she started to pull away, but Brick held her there, anchored to him with a solid grip that made her feel like running and staying at the same time.
His thumb brushed hers rhythmically, insistently.
The pictures flashed forward on the screen. Christmases, birthdays, Fourth of Julys. They all got older. The house changed. The town changed.
Remi tried to focus on the slideshow and the colors the music produced as they floated up to the peaks of the tent and wove their way around the people gathered to celebrate with them.
“What colors do you see?” Brick’s voice was low and rough in her ear. His lip grazed her lobe, and she shivered involuntarily at the contact.
“I see greens and blues billowing like smoke,” she whispered back. The desire to slide into his arms even after her revelation was intense.
She glanced back at him, but his gaze was on the screen. The strong jaw under the neatly trimmed beard, the crinkles around his eyes. The firm set of his mouth.
His grip tightened without warning, and she sensed him tensing next to her. Scanning the room for the threat, she spotted the photo on the screen.
Brick looking dapper and stalwart on his wedding day. Audrey, stunning in white lace, beaming at him. Darlene and Gil posed next to them like family at the altar.
She remembered then. The why this wouldn’t work. He’d made his choice, and it hadn’t been her.
