Enticing Interlude (Tempest #2) (22 page)

I leaned toward her, my lips almost touching her ear. “I think we’re sweeter, babe.”

She didn’t say anything, but when she leaned forward and reached for her glass, I noticed that her hand trembled slightly. Pleased with myself, I leaned back in my chair with a satisfied smile and draped my arm over the back of her chair. I took a moment to enjoy the cozy scene, conversations at a low murmur all around the large rustic driftwood farm table.

Smiling at me, Rheta pushed back her chair. She disappeared into the kitchen for a few minutes but returned with a large serving tray piled high with pastries and a carafe of coffee. My mouth started to water in anticipation.

Then I heard my dad cough into his napkin. I turned to see a pained grimace overtake the contented expression he’d worn earlier. I felt a crease form between my brows. I noticed that my sister’s gaze was narrowed in on him, too. Her eyes met mine for a brief moment and in that moment I knew that Marcus had told her.

“What kind did you make tonight, dear Rheta?” my dad asked as if to deflect attention from himself. I was glad to note that the pain seemed to have receded from his eyes.

Rheta placed the tray in front of him. “Apricot for you, Arthur, and cherry for Don.” The platter was passed around, everyone eagerly taking one while Carter and I both took two, one of each flavor. I kept one eye on my dad, glad to see that he wasn’t coughing anymore and that he still seemed to have his appetite.

When everyone began groaning and complaining about how full they were, Rheta rose from the table. “Alright gang, time to work off those calories.” Everyone began to move immediately as if choreographed, picking up plates, glasses, and utensils, and carrying them dutifully into the kitchen.

“How’re Dwight and Lisa,” I asked Avery when we bumped into each other on our second run to the table. Dwight was Marcus’ older brother and the bassist in their band.

“They’re good. They’re still in Hawaii, spending some final time as a couple before the baby arrives.”

Bridget had her arms up to the elbows in the deep farm sink full of dishes and soapy water when I came back in and set down my load.

“Honey, you can dry.” Rheta pulled out a dishtowel from a drawer and handed one to Don before she moved to the butcher block island where she and Carter began storing the leftovers into Ziploc bags. Don took a rinsed pan that Bridget handed him and started to dry it. Marcus opened the dishwasher and started loading the smaller rinsed dishes that Bridget passed along. It was a scene of domestic efficiency. Everyone had a task to do and even the lead singer of one of the world’s biggest bands wasn’t exempted. I knew without a doubt that Marcus’ family kept him grounded.

“Avery and Justin,” Rheta called, drawing our attention. “Let the rest of us finish this. I want both of you to go back into the den and talk to your dad. He needs to have a word.”

He was waiting in the recliner, his expression worn in the lamplight. Avery and I walked over to the faded overstuffed couch across from him and scooted in close beside each together.

“So you both heard the news by now, I’d imagine?”

“Yeah, Dad.” Avery immediately got up and moved over to him. She knelt down in front of his chair and placed her hand on his arm. “Maybe the doctors are wrong.”

“Perhaps.” He stroked a hand across her hair, but his eyes met mine over her head, and I could tell from his resigned look that he didn’t believe that, not for a minute. He was just going along with her because he didn’t want to upset her more. Then he looked down at her and something passed between them. I couldn’t see Avery’s face but it seemed as though my father drew strength from her. I pressed my lips together while my eyes filled. I was glad they had made their peace together. My dad obviously adored her. He loved me, too. I didn’t doubt that anymore. “I don’t want you to change any of your plans for me, Avery.”

“But, Dad,” she sputtered.

“No buts,” he cut in. “We don’t know how long I have, but I want both of you to carry on as if we had all the time in the world. That’s the way I want it. As normal as we can make it. Let me enjoy just being a part of your lives again. There’s nothing in the world I want more than to see both of you happy.” His warm emerald eyes settled on mine. “I like your girl, Justin. A lot.”

“Yeah, me too, Dad.”

“Lot of wisdom in those beautiful blue eyes of hers. She’s a good mom to that boy, too. And
you’re
different with her…different in a good way, I think.”

I nodded.

“Don’t let her get away.”

“I don’t plan to.”

He gave me a sage nod. “Avery tells me you’re lead singer of Tempest now.”

“Yeah.”

“How’s that new job going?”

“It’s a little rough,” I admitted, rubbing a hand over my neck. “I’ve got some pretty big shoes to fill. Their lead singer was pretty damn good.”

“You’re pretty damn good too, son. They’re lucky to have you. Be patient. You’ll be fine.” I was surprised his words so closely mirrored Bridget’s. I silently mulled that over as he pulled his reading glasses from the pocket of his sweater.

“Let me get your book for you, Dad,” Avery insisted and swiveled around on her knees. I saw the concern in her eyes as she grabbed a worn Bible from the coffee table behind her.

“Thanks,” he told her after she handed it to him.

I managed a difficult swallow as I watched him settle his glasses on his nose. We’d grown up Catholic and had been regular attendees until Mom passed and Dad went off the rails. I knew renewing his faith had been a big part of him being able to turn his life around. I saw the evidence of that in the time I’d spent with him while Avery had been away on tour.

My sister came back to sit next to me and we exchanged a long look as he opened it up and began to read silently.

Carter wandered in just then looking a little tentative as his gaze wove between the three of us. I scooted down the couch a bit and nodded toward the empty spot between Avery and me. “Come and sit here with us, Champ.”

He smiled, shuffled over, and hopped up beside me. I patted his knee. “You have a good time today?”

He nodded his head, his recently cut hair swishing over the tops of his ears now. I kind of missed the longer length, but the new haircut made him look older, something I knew he desperately wanted. “We didn’t get to do our guitar lesson. Since you went out with my mom and all.” There was more than a little bit of disgruntlement in his tone.

“You’re right, we sure didn’t. I’m sorry.”

“I worked on my chords all week. I wanted to show you.” His lip jutted out.

“I’ve got a guitar out here,” Avery interjected. “Marcus has one, too.” She leaned forward to look past me. “Come with me, Carter. We’ll go get ‘em and my brother can make up for that missed lesson right now.”

The rest of the kitchen cleanup crew came into the den while Avery and Carter were away. His arms stacked with firewood, Don moved to add more fuel to the fire. Marcus took a seat in the chair next to my dad and Rheta went directly to her usual spot on the loveseat. Bridget hesitated, looking lost. I crooked a finger. She smiled at me and came over, snuggling her warm curvy body up beside me on the couch. My chest squeezed so tight I found it difficult to breath. I nestled her head down onto it and brushed my lips against the top of her silky hair.

My heart was in complete overflow with her.

Don stoked the fire before settling beside Rheta on the loveseat. He picked up her feet and placed them on his lap as my sister and Carter returned, guitars strapped to their shoulders.

With a little encouragement, I coaxed Carter into playing what I’d taught him. He plucked at the chords ably, even though it wasn’t the scaled down version he’d been using.

“That’s really good, Champ,” I told him beaming with pride. “Keep that up and I don’t think you’ll need that smaller guitar back home for long.”

He grinned seeming to grow two inches taller from my praise. “Avery says you used to play together. She told me she misses it.”

“Really, Sis?” I asked, finding that difficult to believe. As lead guitarist for one of the most celebrated rock bands on the planet, I couldn’t imagine that she longed for those lean early years. Her name was recognized everywhere now, and she’d also have that solo album out soon.

Her gaze swung to Marcus. Some message traveled silently back and forth between the two of them before she looked back at me. She gave me a nonchalant shrug, but I could see the truth in her eyes.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything before?” I straightened, stood, and reached for the guitar Carter had used. “Let’s play something together now.” I thought quickly. “How about ‘The Only One’ …for Dad.”

“What’s that?” My father took his reading glasses off and set them on the side table.

“It’s a new one, Dad,” Avery replied. “We wrote it together after reading Mom’s diary.” She turned to me. “It’s not ready, Justin. I mean the music is, but we don’t have all the words figured out yet.”

We hadn’t then, but I think I did now. Because of Bridget. Because I now understood what my mom and dad had. What I’d been missing my whole life. Because of Bridget I had a brand new language running through my brain. Things I’d never have said before, but that felt perfectly and completely right in this setting.

I leaned in and whispered those words in Avery’s ear.

Her brows lifted in surprise. “That’s good.”

“Yeah, I think so, too.” I clipped on the strap and threw the guitar over my shoulder, freeing up my hands in order to bring over two of the chess table stools for Avery and myself.

“This one is for you, Dad,” Avery announced in her melodic voice before we started strumming together, me on rhythm just like old times and her on lead, the only way she knew.