Back To Us (Shore Secrets 3) (12 page)

“This is going to be the best wedding ever. You’re setting a pretty high bar for me and Zane.”

“I do what I can.”

A hard knock sounded on the door. “Finally, we can eat!” Casey knotted the strings of the matching pants at her waist and hurried into the foyer. “Oh. Hello.”

That didn’t sound good. It definitely didn’t sound like the gratuitous snatch for the bag she usually made. Piper grabbed her wallet. Clutching the unzipped hoodie together with the other hand, she turned the corner to see her parents standing in the doorway.

“Oh. Hello.” Yep. She could understand why Casey had spit out the exact same thing.

“Casey. Piper.” Her dad inclined his elegantly silvered head to each of them. “May we come in? Or do you want the whole world to see you conversing with us, half-dressed?”

“Of course.” Piper dropped her wallet on the console table and zipped herself up. “Sorry. We thought you were someone else.”

“Clearly.” Olivia Morrissey gave her signature sniff of disapproval as she entered. Her mother would never be caught dead in a hoodie. The woman lived by the motto that appearance mattered, even if you were the only one looking at yourself. She shrugged out of her coat and thrust it at Casey.

“We need to speak with you, Piper. Perhaps you could send your friends into the kitchen for a few minutes?” It was a command, not a request. But Piper refused to fall in line.

Patrick Morrissey ordered her around at work. In fact, he’d pretty much forgotten how to treat her like a daughter rather than an employee, from the first day she collected a paycheck at Morrissey Vineyards. Grandpa Will had been the one to insist she be given a shot at working at their family company. Her dad fought it tooth and nail and had been anything but gracious in losing that battle.

The whole thing had baffled Piper. Her relationship with her father had its up and downs, but...all the ups disappeared the moment they started working together. Was he annoyed because she cared more, tried harder? Because she and Grandpa Will connected over a love of the grapes in a way that Patrick never had? Hard to say. And hard to keep hoping that things might improve, although she never stopped trying to please him at work.

But the bottom line was that he had no right to give orders in her house. Or at least no right to expect them to be followed.

“Ella and Casey are my guests. My
invited
guests,” she added, knowing that one of her mother’s pet peeves was the rudeness of an unannounced pop-in. Sure enough, Olivia quickly turned away in embarrassment. Not that Piper liked embarrassing her mother. But she’d learned over the past few years that as an adult, she finally got to fight fire with fire. “They stay.”

“Fine. We were just trying to save you the embarrassment. On the other hand, you didn’t think to give us the same respect.” They stopped in the middle of the living room. Even made an elegant picture, with her mom dripping pearls in a tan column of a dress and her father in a tie that exactly matched her mother’s muted strawberry-blond hair.

“What are you talking about?”

Patrick cleared his throat. “We’ve just come from the club’s Monday Mixer. Imagine our surprise to discover that our daughter was the main topic of conversation for the evening.”

Whoops. Had the news about
WWLL
coming this week gotten out? Still, a spotlight in the magazine was not only a coup for her but terrific for the vineyard. She’d expected this news to put her in their good graces for a while. Why would they be upset? It was the finest wine publication on the market. “I planned to fill you in at work tomorrow, Dad. Sorry they spoiled the surprise.”

“Surprise?” Her mother tapped three French-manicured fingertips against her eyebrow, as if pushing back a migraine. “More like a nightmare. We’re appalled, Piper. Simply appalled that you would get back together with that Ward Cantrell.”

“Oh.” Piper made sure to keep her face a placid mask. Because showing her embarrassment and anger wouldn’t get her anywhere with them. Her parents didn’t historically respond well to outpourings of emotion. What she really wanted to do, though, was turn around and bang her head against the brick wall. Because she should’ve seen this coming. Should’ve prepped for it, laid the groundwork with a few carefully dropped mentions. But no. Instead, Piper had been perpetually bowled over since the moment Ward dropped his bombshell of a proposal in her office. So now she’d pay the price for that inattention to detail.

Patrick folded his arms behind his back. It was his lecturing pose. One with which Piper was all too familiar. Tonight’s in his camel hair sports coat was the same as the times he’d given it in a suit, in a satin monogrammed bathrobe and even a military uniform one Halloween. The clothes changed. The censorious tone and look remained the same.

“It was bad enough that you rekindled your friendship once he returned to town. In the end, though, we decided—” he lightly touched Olivia in the small of her back, including her in his condemnation “—that it reflected favorably on you for having such a forgiving nature. And you were always with these two—” this time it was a jut of his chin to where Ella and Casey hovered at the edge of the room “—when you were with him. That gave you some protection, a degree of separation.”

“I always knew we were good for something,” Casey murmured.

“News of your
date—
” her mother spat the word out “—last night has spread. Not that you thought to inform us of this development before we were blindsided at the club. We insist that you stop this foolishness immediately. You’ll only get hurt again.”

Patrick piled on. “That man embarrassed you and this town. He disgraced us, all of us. I have to insist that you won’t see him again.”

Piper knew her parents. Knew their expectations, their almost impossible standards. Knew that the sun rose and set in their world on what other people thought. And she tried, oh, how hard she tried, to live up to those standards. To do her part to carry on the Morrissey family legacy. But this edict they’d just thrown at her still shocked her to the core.

“Do you hear me, Piper?” Her father took a step forward. Only one. He wasn’t trying to actually bridge the gulf between them or anything. God forbid. “Your actions are a reflection on the winery and on this family. And if you let him paw at you in public as he apparently did at the bowling alley last night, it taints us.”

“I heard you,” she said slowly. The lack of response wasn’t shock. It was an effort to come up with a response that they would see as reasonable and calm. Because she’d tried losing her temper with them. Tried tears, and screaming, and pleading. She’d learned beyond a shadow of a doubt the day they dumped her at Cornell that none of it mattered. They were unmoved by their daughter’s wishes. No, not even unmoved—
unconcerned.
Her girly, emotional responses just reminded her parents that she wasn’t a boy. That she wasn’t the boy they’d hoped and planned for to carry on the business. Not the boy her mother had miscarried a year before having Piper—and neither parent had ever gotten over that disappointment.

And yet, she kept trying. Kept pushing for some recognition that they loved her for who she was, what she’d made of her life, and not just as the next in line on the Morrissey family tree. Piper drove herself to excel at the winery, always hoping that they’d acknowledge her hard work. Maybe even make her a partner without waiting until her father retired. But his repeated rejection of her request for land to start Grandpa Will’s port line made it clear that he saw her as an underling, and not a partner.

But that was separate from this issue. As was her mother’s disapproval over her having purchased a house a block too far away from the lake. Those were all disappointments with Piper. Part of the litany of ways that Piper had let them down as a daughter. Which she could take. Was used to, in fact.

Ward, however, was off-limits.

She tugged at the bottom of her new aqua hoodie and wished that she was wearing something less fun, something dark and responsible and not lined with fleece. “First of all, you owe Casey and Ella an apology. It is unspeakably rude to insult someone to their faces whom I count as a dear friend.”

“I’ll do no such thing.” A flicker of embarrassment, knowledge that he’d pushed the bounds of propriety, pushed a vertical line between her father’s eyes. That was all the acknowledgment she got, however.

“Secondly,” she plowed on, as if oblivious to the red creeping from her father’s nose over his cheeks and up to his forehead, “however you may feel about Ward Cantrell, you will keep it to yourself while in this house. In my house. He is, and always will be, one of my best friends, and for that alone you owe him respect.”

“You’re not being respectful to our family business,” Patrick countered. “People in this town look down on that man. That could translate to lost sales.”

Wow. He was scraping the bottom of the excuse barrel already. “Tourism and sales to restaurants and liquor stores outside of Seneca Lake account for most of our sales. You know the numbers. I give my all to Morrissey Vineyards.” Piper knew he couldn’t argue that point, no matter how angry he was.

She also knew that would be the best place to end the conversation. It’d be enough to shut down their complaints for the moment and get them back out the door. It’d be the smart way to go. Even a few weeks ago, Piper might have chosen that course. But now this miraculous second chance with Ward was on the table. He was giving this new stab at dating his all. Which meant, if she truly wanted to look toward a possible future with him, she’d have to take not just a few risks, but she’d have to take a stand against her parents’ narrow-mindedness.

Squaring her shoulders, Piper said, “What you have to accept, Dad, is that I can give my heart to whomever I choose.”

Everyone in the room froze for a few seconds. Shock at Piper’s line in the sand was mirrored on each face. Finally, Patrick pointed an accusatory finger. “Actions have consequences, Piper. Especially reckless ones. Think on that,” he ordered with a stern finger wag. Then he marched out of the living room, leaving Olivia to grab her coat back from Casey and follow him out the front door.

It didn’t close with a slam. Her parents weren’t the door-slamming type.

“You stood up to them,” Ella said in a hushed tone, full of awe.

Piper whooshed out a huge breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “I did.”

Casey gave her a huge side hug that practically bruised her kidneys with its enthusiastic force. “For Ward. That’s a huge freaking deal.”

“I know.” It left her with a roiling stomach and the tightness that presaged a tension headache. Not to mention the niggle of worry they’d seeded into her brain that maybe, just maybe, there would be backlash for her reckless rush into dating Ward. But all in all, Piper still would say she felt good. Sort of. Now, in this single moment.

“Are you going to tell him?”

“No. Oh God, no.”

“Why not? There’s certainly no love lost between Ward and your parents. He wouldn’t care about their stupid directive.”

“I don’t know. He puts up a good front, but I’m sure it still hurts every time someone judges him now by his deeds of ten years ago. And Ward wouldn’t want his month of dating to cause any trouble for me at work.” Because that was really what it came down to—not a rift at home, but an iciness that would undoubtedly pervade the winery thanks to tonight’s quarrel.

Another knock sounded on the door. “Unbelievable.” She’d kept her cool the first time around. But her mom and dad would be faced with the full force of her redheaded temper if they’d come back for another round. Piper stomped to the foyer and flung open the door.

The fierce, battle-ready expression on her face sent the delivery boy back down two steps. He thrust two large white bags in front of him like a shield. “Lotus Palace?”

“Finally!” Casey hooted from the living room. “Now the night can start.”

Piper pressed a hand to her still somersaulting stomach as she grabbed her wallet from the console table. Because if everything that had just happened since the girls arrived was only the preamble, she wasn’t sure if she’d survive the official start to the evening.

Chapter Nine

Ward had seen a lot of crazy things over the years on the shores of Seneca Lake. It was a tourist town. People tended to forget to pack common sense next to their cameras and caps. There’d been a bachelor party who wore Dead Man Walking hats while they carried the groom on their shoulders in a plywood coffin. People hefting sonar and speakers and God knows what else looking for the legendary sea serpent of the lake. But he still did a double take at the pack of a dozen nuns in billowing black-and-white ahead on the sidewalk.

He swung Piper’s hand up from between them to point. “That’s different. What is it—a pod of nuns? A passel?” Zane would probably know. That guy kept random shit around in his brain the way other people let old magazines stack up on a table.

“Worried the world’s ending?” she teased. “Do you have some bucket list items you need to cross off before the apocalypse begins?”

“Nope.”

She was in a playful mood. The stress of work—and working with her dad, which was its own wheelbarrow full of trouble—had slipped from her face. Tonight Piper was all bright-eyed and smiley. God, Ward loved her like this.

Piper swung their joined hands together in a soft bump to his stomach. “You don’t want to get in one of those cages to swim with sharks? Or skydive?”

“I’ve done that already.”

“Which? Because they are both utterly crazypants, in my book.”

Ward agreed. But sometimes a guy had to go a little crazy. “I jumped out of a plane.”

“On purpose?” she asked after a sharp, indrawn breath.

“Yeah. On my twenty-first birthday.”

“Why?”

Oh, yeah. That had been during the multi-year phase of her not talking to him. Once they did declare a truce, they never really went back and shared stories of what happened during those years. But Ward wanted to tell her now. He didn’t want to run off at the mouth and tell her every damn thought that came into his head. But his jump had been a big deal. A big moment. So he wanted her to know.

“I was in college, and college sports, so yeah, I drank some. Plus, I worked in a distillery. I wasn’t exactly new to booze by the time the calendar ticked over. Instead of getting tanked, Skip took me skydiving on my twenty-first. Said he wanted me to experience a true rush, not one that dulled my senses. And learn that no matter how scary and steep the dive, there’s always a chance for a safe landing.”

“Your Skip was rather a guru.”

“He’d snort bourbon straight out of his nose if he heard you call him that. Skip likes to think of himself as plainspoken. Not some Southern shaman.” Putting his hand on the small of her back, Ward directed her to turn the corner at the grey stone Methodist church. Then he slid his hand forward, curved around her waist right below her cropped jean jacket. Because it felt good. Because he
could.

“Did you enjoy it?” She shook her head as if already prepared not to believe him. Her cloud of red hair lifted from her shoulders in the slight breeze off the lake. Ward’s fingers flexed with the urge to reach up and touch the silky softness of it. Or bury his nose in it to wallow in her signature tuberose scent. “The whole plummeting-towards-the-earth thing?”

“I was all big talk beforehand. Told half the campus that we were doing it. Conquer the world? Hell, I was off to conquer the
sky.
”

“I sense a ‘but’...”

“When you actually stand in that open door? With the safety of the plane behind you and nothing but blue in front of you?” Ward prided himself on being tough. He was the kid who played three quarters of a football game with two broken ribs from a bad tackle, and still managed to throw perfect spirals into the end zone. When he was younger, he’d always gone for the long shot, taken the risks, sure that nothing bad could happen to him. That he could take whatever life tossed at him.

With thirty just a couple of years away, Ward had a more realistic view. That bad things could and did happen—but he was tough enough to handle all of it. Which meant being strong enough to reveal this embarrassing moment of weakness to Piper. “Stubborn pride was the only thing that got my white knuckles off the handle and into my harness. The hardest part was waiting in place for an endless minute, knowing my tandem jump master was about to lean forward into thousands of feet of just air.”

“I still call that all kinds of brave.”

“A lot cocky, mixed with a little bit of stupid. Not brave. I never would’ve done it in a million years if not for Skip pushing me. He did that for me with a lot of things.”

“Would you do it again?”

Ward let out a belly laugh. “Hell, no. I’m glad we went. Falling to the earth was mind-blowing. Incredible. But once in a lifetime’s enough for me. Even when you land safely, things can go wrong. It’d be hard to run the distillery with a busted ankle.”

“Hmm, no daredevil-esque stunts on your bucket list.” Piper tapped a finger against her lips while she thought, and then shrugged. “I give up. What else do you need to do before the flock of nuns announces Armageddon?”

He considered making a joke. Sloughing off the question. But he only had twenty-five days to make his full court press. So Ward had to ignore the discomfort of baring his heart on a still-sunny sidewalk, surrounded by kids wearing what looked like paper grocery bags?—and, son of a bitch,
another
set of nuns turning the corner. Piper was worth the awkwardness. He turned to look in her beautiful, sky-blue eyes.

“I’m doing it,” he answered.

“What?” She craned her head around and up, as if looking for a jet-pack on his back or something. “What’s remotely bucket list-y about strolling down the street?”

“I’m working on getting you back.”

Piper stopped walking. Froze entirely, like one of those annoying silver-coated mimes who scared the crap out of tourists in New York and New Orleans. “I’m on your bucket list?”

“Babe, you
are
my bucket list. The whole thing. You’re it.”

Her hand flew to her throat. The pale skin of her face flushed almost as red as her hair. Her breathing hitched a little. Ward couldn’t tell if she was starting to cry or getting really pissed and ready to lay into him.

He’d gone too far. It was a stupid thing to say. He’d scared her off. Pissed her off that she was a thing to be ticked off a list, or a trophy to be won. Now Ward had a new list flashing through his head—all the reasons he shouldn’t have said that. It was only their second date. Sure, they’d had breakfast at Cosgrove’s every morning with the whole gang, like usual. They’d talked on the phone every night. Amazingly, that had gone really well. They seemed to be past the whole knee-jerk anger reflex they’d used habitually on each other over the years.

It was a lot like high school. Which was all kinds of weird. New. Different, since they were adults. Comparing marketing strategies. Laughing over tourists who didn’t use common sense on the wine trail and got blasted on two-ounce tasting pours. Familiar, though, too. Maybe he’d shot his wad too early. Felt
too
comfortable with her. Why the hell wasn’t she saying anything?

Ward picked her up by the waist and moved her over a few feet against a building. “You going to give me the silent treatment all night?”

“What am I supposed to say?” she murmured, her lips barely moving.

Great. Ward had screwed the pooch. Well, he should’ve known that his crazy plan wouldn’t be smooth sailing. He just thought it would take more than two dates to trigger that redheaded temper of hers. Scrubbing a hand over the stubble on his chin, Ward said, “Gotta say something, or this’ll go down as our worst date ever.”

“Impossible.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s already the most romantic night of my entire life.” Piper’s lips drew into a wide smile. Her hands folded on top of her heart. “
I’m
your bucket list?” She shook her head in what he now realized was shocked disbelief and not anger at all. “Ward, you take my breath away. You made me speechless. You flipped my heart in a somersault and don’t even realize you’re still cradling it in your hands.”

Huh.
That
he could work with. “Glad you see it that way,” he said gruffly.

“I can’t promise you that you’ll cross me off your bucket list. But I can promise I’ll give you every chance, and that I’ll give treating you right back my all.”

“Hey, it’s not as good a win if you don’t have to work for it, right?” They started walking again. Ward avoided making eye contact with the nuns. But that boomeranged his gaze toward three boys dressed up in...Nazi uniforms? He jerked his chin toward them. “That’s not cool. Not just because it’s more than a month till Halloween. Some costumes should be permanently off-limits. Nazis. That androgynous chick from 1990s
SNL
. Anything involving a naked guy dressed like a baby. Have some respect.”

“Trust me, on this one night it is okay. They’re all probably headed to the opera house.”

Ward’s stomach sank. Nobody told him the night would involve costumes. God, he hated costumes. Hated them like he hated the pain of getting a dislocated shoulder popped back into place. “You, uh, know what’s going on there?”

“Of course. The sing-along
Sound of Music
. People drive in from Ithaca and Syracuse to come to this every year. I’ve always wanted to go.”

“You’re in luck.” With a lot more dread in his voice than he’d planned, Ward said, “That’s exactly where we’re going.”

“That’s our date?” Piper skipped. Which seemed impossible in the high wedge—God, sometimes Ward hated that his best friends were women and he knew shit like that—heels that brought her up to his chin. “Seriously?”

“Well, I know you still love to sing. Jump at every opportunity to do it. Including singing in the car even when you don’t know all the lyrics. You know that drives me nuts. How about we make a rule? For the thirty days we date, no more singing along to songs unless you know the words. All of ‘em.”

She grabbed his other hand and turned him in a circle on the sidewalk. “You’re really taking me to a sing-along?”

What was with all the surprise? They’d sat in choir together for seven years. Done just as many musicals. “You like to sing. I like to sing. I’ve missed singing with you. Don’t make it out to be some major sacrifice on my part.”

“But it is. What’s the one thing you hated about doing shows?”

Talk about a no-brainer. “Dressing up. I hate people hiding behind a costume. Doesn’t feel real. And if you’re old enough to drive, you’re too old to wear a costume.”

“Exactly. So this is a huge sacrifice. You know the whole thing starts with a half-hour-long costume contest, right?”

No. Hell, no. After reading through a bunch of predictable date suggestions in the mailbox journal, Ward had come up with this idea by himself after hearing a radio ad. He bought tickets. He didn’t actually do research on it. Ward expected to buy some popcorn, have the lights go down, and everyone would start belting out “The Hills Are Alive
.
” Why did it have to be so complicated?

Just then, another group of middle-aged men brushed past. In shorts that would’ve been the right length in the seventies, with suspenders that he assumed were meant to turn them into lederhosen. They looked freaking ridiculous. Ward sighed. Piper would love every damn minute of it.

Another nun hurried into the line forming outside the opera house. Now it was blindingly obvious that costumes were a thing. “Captain Von Trapp was one brave dude.”

“Because he stood up to the Nazis? Led his children across the treacherous Alps to an unknown future in another country?”

“That, sure. But also the sex thing.”

“It’s a G-rated movie. What sex thing?”

“Breaking in a virgin is scary enough. But a virgin nun, who pretty much broke up with Jesus for him? That’s too much pressure for any man to be able to perform.”

Piper giggled as they joined the line. Then, after a moment, she tilted her head to give him a sidelong look. “You have first-hand experience with virgin deflowering?”

“One. Once was enough.”

“Should I ask?”

Ward wasn’t sure how to answer that. Or which of his answers would be right. Because if he and Piper were still just friends who snarked at each other constantly, he’d joke his way out of it. If she was nothing more than a girl he was taking to the movies, he’d dodge the bullet entirely. They were in the weird place of already knowing way too much about each other, and yet still not knowing everything, thanks to their three-year radio silence.

He rubbed a long strand of red hair between his thumb and finger before tucking it behind her ear. “Would you ask if this was a normal second date? Or are you only doing it because it’s me?”

“I’m only here because you’re you, Ward. There isn’t a way any other so-called ‘normal’ second date could compare to tonight. No other guy compares to you. It’s that simple.”

He could swallow sitting through an entire platoon of nuns doing a kick line if it meant Piper saying things like that. “Yeah. Joy Fideli was a virgin when we got together. Not a hook-up or anything. We dated for almost a month. She didn’t tell me right off the bat, or I probably would’ve bailed.”

She sucked in a sharp whistle. “Harsh.”

“Honest.” Had he gambled wrong by giving her the answer she asked for, instead of what Piper probably wanted to hear? “Isn’t that what you want from me?”

“Good point.”

Ward looked past her at the treetops rustling in the faint breeze. “Virginity complicates things. Makes a roll in the sheets more than just a good time. Joy was scared. I was nervous. And when it was over, she was ready to pick out a new comforter for my dorm room in a better color and move right in.”

“Sounds like it was hard on both of you.”

He didn’t want her pity. He just wanted to move off this particular topic. “Probably not as hard as it was on poor Captain Von Trapp.”

“Comparatively speaking, no.” Piper jabbed a finger into his chest. “Don’t forget Maria had to deal with the specter of his dead wife, too.”

“That whole marriage had issues.”

“How do you know the movie so well?”

Ward reached around to rub the base of his skull. The spot where a headache always developed when he thought too much about the past and the family members he hadn’t seen in so many years. “My mom loved it. She’d make apple strudel from scratch and watch it at Christmas and Easter, every year. It’s probably how I learned to sing. I knew all the lyrics before I learned all the positions on a football team.”