Come On Closer (26 page)

“You can think what you want. You always did. I can't do this anymore. What I can do is stand up and put in the work to make my own way, my own decisions, and my own life.
That's
acting like a Sullivan, Dad.”

“Don't call me that. My son wouldn't throw away years of education to go play with makeup on a stage. My son wouldn't—”

“Jim, stop! Stop it right now!”

Larkin hadn't seen her arrive, but she recognized the woman approaching from the other direction. She was less perfectly coiffed than usual, and her pretty face was contorted with some strong emotion, but it was definitely Shane's mother. Larkin stopped short, watching. Suddenly, she didn't feel like this was her place to intervene. So she hung back, waiting to see what Elizabeth Sullivan's arrival meant.

“Go home, Liz,” Jim bellowed. “He quit. Our ungrateful little shit of a son quit. Says he hates his job. He always hated his job. He can't do this anymore. So
he's done, and so am I. If he ever tries to darken our doorstep again I'll—”

“You will not! What's wrong with you?” Larkin watched, amazed, as the scared mouse of a woman put herself between her son and her husband, looking as fierce as any mother might. “He's our son. He will
always
be our son, no matter what he chooses to do. And nothing you say or do will change that.”

“Like hell,” Jim shouted, getting right up in her face. “Like—”

Seth stepped in then, deftly inserting himself in the middle of the argument. Larkin could hear Seth's calm voice, clear as a bell. “Shane, Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan, it's either time to talk about this in a calm manner or walk away for a while. I don't like the way this is going, and if anyone throws a punch this is going to turn into a much larger problem.”

Jim drew himself up, looking like he was struggling not to explode. “Liz, get in the car and go home. We'll talk about this later.”

She seemed to hesitate, started to go . . . and then she looked at Shane. The sadness she saw on her face then nearly broke Larkin's heart. “No,” Liz said.

“What?”

“No,” she said more clearly. “No, we won't.” Her mouth twisted, one eyebrow arching, and Larkin wasn't sure whether she was going to spit at him or cry. But all she said was “Go on. Go tell your secretary what a horrible family you have. It'll give you something to do until you hear from
my
lawyer. I'm done, too, Jim. I'm . . . I'm done, too.” Her shoulders slumped, and Shane put his box down on the ground, freeing his hands. He touched his mother's arm, speaking too
softly for Larkin to hear. As she watched, amazed at the burst of emotion from a woman who'd seemed scared of her own shadow, Liz turned and embraced her son. He went very still. But after a moment, as Seth spoke rapidly and firmly to a pale and sputtering Jim, Shane put his arms around his mother.

Larkin took a step back. Then another. Just as she was about to turn and go, Shane's gaze found hers. They locked, blue eyes and green. That was when she could see how shell-shocked he really was. She'd just watched his entire life change. Not just change, but fall apart. Had she really convinced herself it would be so easy for him?
This
was why he'd been reluctant to walk away from his career. It meant walking away from his family.

And if he'd done it for her . . .

Guilt settled like a brick in the pit of her stomach. This was what she'd encouraged him to do? It didn't look like happiness. It looked like the shattered remnants of his family, such as it was. It wasn't a closed door. It was one that had been slammed shut and lit on fire.

You deserve happiness,
she'd told him. But it wasn't supposed to look like this.

She'd planned to celebrate a beginning with Shane tonight. So many beginnings. Instead, he was facing an ending.

And the only thing she knew to do was turn around and walk away, before she managed to ruin whatever was left. She pretended not to feel the tears slipping down her cheeks, and went home alone. That was the way it had always been. And she was suddenly sure that that was the way it would always be.

T
he last light was fading from the sky when the knock at her door came.

Larkin put down the bag she was using to frost her cupcakes, ran her hands down her tie-dyed shirt, and padded to the front door in her bare feet. It was probably Gina, checking on her again. It wasn't every day her neighbor got to see her come home wearing a designer dress and bawling like a baby, after all. Gina had petted and fussed, and made some noise about making her soup.

Once she'd gone, Larkin had done the only thing she knew how to do.

She'd baked.

“You didn't really make me a whole pot of soup, did y—oh.”

He filled up her doorway, looking a little worse for
wear but still so wonderfully
him
. His shirt was untucked, and his mother's makeup had left a stain on the right side of his chest. His hair was rumpled, as though he'd been running his fingers through it. As she looked up at him, he began rubbing the back of his neck.

“No soup. Just me.” His voice seemed deeper than usual. Rougher. But then it had been a long day.

“That's okay,” Larkin said. She felt ridiculous. And terrible. “Um. Did you, um . . . want to come in?” She gestured inside, and somehow, in turning a little, caught her foot in a nonexistent notch in the wood. She wobbled, grabbed the doorframe, and felt her cheeks go to flame.

Well, some things never change.

“Yeah,” Shane said. “I do.” He didn't laugh at her near miss, only stepped inside, big and strangely somber. This was it, Larkin thought. This was where he told her he'd made a huge mistake. Actually a number of them. And it was time to fix what was screwing up his life.

It was far too late to wish that she'd walked away when she might have been able to. That time was long past. She'd let herself love him. Someone so completely, unworkably different from her. And so amazingly similar.

“I know what you're going to say,” she said. “It's okay. I understand.”

His eyebrows rose. “Oh yeah?”

She nodded. “Come on,” she said. “Have a cupcake. I made too many.”

He followed her into the kitchen, which was filled with the familiar and soothing scents of vanilla and
sugar, frosting and batter. When she turned around, Shane was looking incredulously at her counter.

“I guess I wasn't the only one who had a rough day.”

She shook her head. “I bake when I have feelings I need to work through.”

“I can't even see your counter. Did you work through them yet?”

“No.”

He laughed, and she didn't want to fool herself that it meant anything. “Larkin.”

“Really, have a cupcake.”

“Will you stop panicking if I let you feed me?” he asked.

She frowned at him. “I'm not panicking. I just . . . I know. I know why you're here, and I am so, so sorry, Shane. I wasn't trying to ruin your life. I just wanted you to be happy. But everyone's situation is different, and I didn't even imagine that—”

“Hey, whoa, wait,” he interrupted her, frowning. “Just slow down. You think you ruined my life?”

She nodded miserably. “You saw me there today, when your father lost his mind and disowned you in the middle of the street, and then your mother said he'd hear from her lawyer, and you just looked so . . . broken. All because you listened to my stupid ‘don't worry, be happy' crap.”

Shane watched her for a moment, looking completely dumbfounded. Then he cursed softly, and in two long strides she was wrapped in his arms, his face buried in her hair. Larkin stiffened against him, terrified to let herself think this was anything different from the terrible thing she'd imagined. But the longer he stayed
there, the harder it was not to notice the way he stroked her hair and then her back with light brushes of his fingers that spoke to the intimate bond they'd been weaving. At least, she'd thought so.

“Larkin,” he said again. “Today wasn't your fault.”

“But if you hadn't listened to me . . . if you hadn't
met
me . . .”

“Then I would never have had the balls to do what I should have done a long time ago.” He pulled back, his blue eyes as deep as the ocean. “Today was hard, yeah. It was a mess. It was always going to be a mess. But I needed to take that step. I needed to make the break, instead of spending the rest of my life in that office, under his thumb, wishing I had done something different. I watch you and Fitz, people I care about, and you're strong enough to know what you need, to fight for it. I never was. Not until I met you.”

She couldn't seem to find any words. There were only hitches of breath, and more tears in what seemed to be an endless supply. “But.”

“No. No ‘but's.'” He caressed her cheek with his thumb, grazing her jaw with his knuckles. “It needed to happen. And my mother . . . She surprised me today. I knew she loved me. I just didn't realize how much, and how unhappy she was all these years in her own way. We talked for a long time afterward. Probably the longest conversation we've ever had. Maybe she and I can make something better out of the wreckage now. I don't think it's too late. I wanted to stop you from leaving, but everything happened so fast. And you were wearing the dress I got you. You looked so damn beautiful, and when you walked away—”

“It's okay,” she said. “Really.” And it was. One thing
he would never have to explain to her was the complicated tangle of emotions that came from a screwed-up family. The hard knot of guilt in her belly loosened, just a little. How could it not, when he touched her like she was something precious?

“I told you before, Larkin. You make me want to be better. I
am
better. For the first time in my whole life, I feel like I'm exactly where I belong. And trust me, I need you a hell of a lot more than you need me. I'm not going anywhere.”

“That's not true. I do need you. Very much.” She looked up at his beautiful, beloved face. “I was so afraid I'd fall in love and lose myself. Instead, it was just the opposite. When I found you, I found
everything
. I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid—”

“Hey, now, wait a second. I said it first. Remember? In the heat of passion?” He waggled his eyebrows, making her laugh.

“But you didn't mean it! You always say it like you're teasing. . . .”

“I meant it. And I was never teasing.” His smile softened. “Even before I knew I wasn't, I wasn't. I'm pretty sure I've loved you since you danced with me at Jake's wedding. Remember that? We slow danced to some cheesy song, and you were laughing, and you smelled
amazing
. And I knew.”

Damn it, he was going to make her cry again. “You knew?”

“That nobody else was going to do it for me, ever. It was you. And because I'm persistent, not to mention charming and good-looking—and because you've got the patience of a saint—here we are.”

“I'm not that patient.”

“But I
am
that charming,” he said, and she laughed, cupping his face in her hands and pulling him down for a kiss.

“Sometimes,” she said. “You've definitely grown on me.”

“Good,” he said. “Because I had this idea that you might be okay with keeping me.” He reached into his pocket. Suddenly, she forgot how to breathe. This wasn't what she'd thought. But then, things rarely were. And often, they were even better. “I had a plan for this, but screw the plan. Stay with me. I want to spend the rest of my life watching you bake in sweatpants, and singing Bob Marley with you, and dancing with you in the kitchen, and seeing that smile every day of my life. I'm not a hero, Larkin. But I swear, if you'll marry me I'll spend every day of the rest of my life trying to be worthy of you.”

When he opened the box, she thought she finally understood the meaning of pure, simple delight.

“It's pink!” she cried, letting him slip it on her finger, marveling at the platinum diamond ring set with pink sapphires.

“Is that a yes?”

She laughed and wound her arms around his neck, watching her ring flash and glitter in the light. “Is that really a question?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes. Because you're my hero, no matter what you think. You saved me when I didn't even know I needed it. You've made my life a million times better. And as long as you can handle a few fluffy unicorns around the house, I'm all yours.”

“Since I'm pretty sure you
are
a fluffy unicorn,
sounds like we have a deal. I love you, Larkin O'Neill. Let's spend the rest of our lives making a mess and saving each other.”

“I love you, too.” She showered his face with kisses, her lips touching skin warmed by her touch, saying yes in every way she could think of. For the first time in memory, she was utterly content, completely whole.

Spring had finally come, ripe with new beginnings. This was theirs. And life had never been sweeter.

Continue reading for a preview of the next Harvest Cove book,

A LITTLE MORE LOVE

Available in September 2016!

K
ira Andersen wasn't a fan of flights that happened at the crack of dawn. For one thing, they happened in the morning, her least favorite time of day. For
another, they involved airplanes, which meant she would spend the duration of her trip envisioning every catastrophic failure she could come up with—and she was creative, so she could envision quite a few—while running on nothing but coffee and nerves.

Seth was lucky she loved him. That was all there was to it. But there was no way she was turning down an invitation to spend these precious few weeks before his wedding doing what she did best: pestering him. Not when the planets had aligned so neatly to mix business and pleasure. That
never
happened. It almost made her nervous, except she was too busy planning to make the most of it to worry much.

She'd just spent the last couple of hours smashed between the window and a man who smelled strongly of onions and who couldn't have taken up more leg space if he'd tried. Plus turbulence. By the time she set foot on
solid ground, Kira was worried out. All she wanted to do was get to Harvest Cove, get settled in, and enjoy the rest of her day. Preferably with a series of warm caffeinated beverages in hand, while she annoyed her brother.

Sounded like a little slice of heaven to her.

Kira walked quickly through the terminal, her messenger bag slung across her body, stopping only to get a giant vanilla latte before making her way to baggage claim. She took her phone off airplane mode as she walked, reading her texts and letting the latte kick her higher brain functions back into gear. One of the first texts was an apologetic message from her brother. He'd been called into work. Some friend of his was picking her up.

“Great,” Kira groaned. The baggage carousel designated for her flight began to run just as she reached it, a sign that at least some things in her universe were in working order today. She eyed Onion Man lingering on the other side of the carousel, then shifted her focus to the bags trundling past her. She didn't recognize the name of the guy picking her up. Fitz? Fitz
what
? He hadn't been one of the ones she'd met when she'd visited over Christmas. Then again, Seth had come out of his shell a lot since then. He seemed to have quite a few friends these days. As much as Kira missed him back in Florida, living in a little New England town had been good for her brother. Of course, so had falling in love. Not that she'd know much about that, but love looked good on him.

Kira looked down at her traveling clothes—beat-up skinny jeans, slip-on canvas shoes, a T-shirt featuring a cartoon she watched, and an oversized military jacket she could hide in on long flights—and sighed. It was one thing for her twin to see her roll into town looking
like the dog's breakfast. It was another for some random townie to meet her this way.

Nothing I can do about it now
, she decided, brushing her long ponytail back over her shoulder as she spotted a familiar, clearly well-used suitcase headed toward her. Kira hauled it off the conveyor, pulled out the handle, and dragged the suitcase behind her as she headed for the doors that led outside. Seth had included a number to call when she was ready to be picked up, and she pursed her lips as she pressed it.

So totally sure this won't be awkward. Thanks, Seth.
Well, maybe she could pick Fitz's brain a little on the way to the Cove. She didn't want to do work today, but if the guy was a local, maybe he'd be able to tell her something useful about her quarry. It wasn't like a famous writer could get away with being
completely
anonymous in a place as small as Harvest Cove, after all. Some people had to know. It was just a matter of turning over the right stones. Probably wouldn't even take her that long.

The phone rang only once before the mysterious Fitz picked up.

“Hello? Is this Kira?”

He had a nice voice, warm, not too deep, fairly mellow—not that it meant a thing about the guy himself. For all she knew, he could be Onion Man. The thought worried her enough that she looked back toward the baggage claim, where her erstwhile seatmate was still waiting for his suitcase. Fortunately, he wasn't on his phone.

“Hey. Yes. Fitz?”

“That's me. You ready for pickup?”

She smiled. He made her sound like a fast-food order. “As ready as I'm going to be. I'm the brunette in the big green jacket lugging the giant suitcase.”

“Okay. I'm in the cell phone lot. I'll head right over.” He gave her a brief description of the blue crossover SUV he was driving, enough that she figured she could spot it. They hung up, and she waited. It wasn't even five minutes before the car that had to be his pulled up alongside the curb in front of her. A dark head of hair popped out of the driver's side of the car, followed by . . .

Oh. Well. This is . . . unexpected.

Kira mustered an expression that, if not convincingly perky, was at least friendly and tried to ignore the happy little flutter in her stomach that always heralded the arrival of a cute boy. Fitz was better than cute, though, and he sure as hell wasn't a boy. She wanted to kick herself as her smile went from appropriate to “Hey, sailor” in the blink of an eye.

Come on! I haven't had enough coffee to deal with this yet.

It wasn't like Seth's having a good-looking friend was so shocking. After all, he'd been in the Army before he was a cop, and both jobs meant he was likely to end up with at least a few buddies who qualified as uniformed eye candy. She'd always appreciated it, even though she'd never taken advantage. Dating his friends had just seemed like a great way to invite trouble for no particular reason, and besides, she wasn't so much into buff uniformed types.

This, though . . . yeah. This guy was right up her alley.

Fitz came around the front of the car, his slim, athletic frame clad in frayed jeans, a Captain America T-shirt, and a hoodie. His hair, just long enough to be on the shaggy side, was jet-black, and his skin was tanned. Big soulful dark brown eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled at her, and she couldn't stop herself from dropping her gaze to his mouth. His lips had just the right amount of
fullness and were, in her opinion, the sort utterly perfect for kissing.

“Kira?” he asked, and it was the same warm voice she'd heard on the phone.

“That's me.” She let go of her suitcase handle, shuffled her coffee cup, and stuck out her hand, determined not to act like a complete ass. It was hard this early, but she'd like to get through the rest of the day with her dignity intact. “Nice to meet you, Fitz. Thanks for picking me up.”

“No problem.” His hands enveloped hers, and the warmth of his touch rippled over her skin so quickly and so unexpectedly that Kira didn't quite manage to fight off a shiver. His dark brows drew together with concern. “Cold? I bet you are, coming here from ninety-degree weather.”

“More like eighty, but yeah. Wind's a little nippy.” Kira laughed and pulled her hand away, huddling into the sanctuary of her coat. The temperature change was going to take some adjustment, which she'd known even before Fitz grinned at her.

“Hey, this is
warm
for the end of September. Low sixties, sunny. It's cooler in the Cove, though, with the wind off the water.”

Kira wrinkled her nose and made a soft disgruntled sound. Conceptually, the idea of a New England fall appealed to her. Cold, however, was not her friend. Fitz's sun-kissed skin reminded her of home. “Good thing I brought sweaters.”

“Yep,” he agreed. He pressed a button on his key chain and popped the trunk, then reached for the handle of her suitcase. “Go ahead and hop in. I can get this.”

She briefly considered refusing, then discarded the idea. Her suitcase was maybe possibly a little
overstuffed, and she didn't feel like making a spectacle of herself wrestling it into the car. If he thought she was some kind of delicate flower, he'd figure out otherwise soon enough. Though she couldn't imagine Seth hadn't told him some stories about her. He told
everyone
stories. She chalked it up to deep-seated feelings of inadequacy because she'd won so many of their fights as kids. Which she'd told him. Which he'd loudly denied before putting her in a headlock.

She still rued the day he'd finally gotten bigger than her.

“Thanks,” Kira said, handing off the bag and then walking to the car, sliding gratefully into the comfy leather passenger's seat. She pressed the seat-warmer button and smiled a little when she recognized the satellite radio station. It was the same one she listened to.

Seth, if you're trying to set me up, you've outdone yourself. Not gonna work, but still. Impressive. Not that you're in any less trouble for trying.

Not everybody was made for happily ever afters. Seth was. She'd always known it, even if he hadn't. But some people just did better with a string of happy for nows. Well, mostly happy. On her own, that was. Kira wasn't opposed to a fun fling here and there, but things rarely stayed as uncomplicated as she'd liked. Her work situation since she'd left the newspaper gave her enough to think about without adding in men who wanted things like, say, regular attention. The solid reputation she'd taken such care to build was beginning to pay off in steady, regular work. That was a big deal. The tantalizing possibility that she might not
need
to work for anyone but herself was an even bigger one.

As much as she missed the fun parts of coupledom, she just didn't have time for a real relationship right now.
Her twin's upcoming wedding was a memory she planned to tuck away as a cherished illustration of what love ought to be, a reminder of what she had to look forward to. Someday. When she was ready. Which she was not, no matter how surprisingly hot some of the locals might be. Or how happy her brother seemed to be. It was almost like he didn't need her pithy commentary on life, the universe, and everything to brighten up his days anymore.

Lost in thought, Kira looked at her hands as Fitz got behind the wheel and shut the door.

“Did you smuggle a person in that thing?” he asked, jerking her out of her sudden melancholy. She'd been feeling it a lot lately, hovering, always ready to come in for a landing when she could least afford to indulge it. That was probably what happened, she reasoned, when the brother you'd been close to since sharing time in the womb decided to make his own life, his own family.

It wasn't an ending, exactly. Just a change. One of those things she enjoyed writing about a lot more than actually experiencing.

“Hmm?” Kira asked, taking a second to process what he'd actually asked her. “Oh, no. No stowaway. Just sweaters. Maybe a few bricks.”

“Good call. You never know when you're going to need a brick or three.”

“Words to live by.”

“Yeah.” He smiled at her again—a quick curve of those amazing lips—and gave a look out of the corner of his eye before he pulled away from the curb. She met his gaze for that brief moment and returned his smile, feeling the same delicious warmth flood her as when his hand had clasped hers. Kira turned her head and tried to focus on the road ahead as they made their
way out of the airport, but her smile, rather than fading, threatened to morph into a big grin that would probably creep Fitz out.

Stop smiling. Seriously. Why am I smiling? Think of nonsmiley things. Like Onion Man. Ah, there we go. A surefire cure for happiness: Onion Man.

Still, Kira took a lengthy drink from her latte until she was sure she could sit there and look like a normal, polite person who'd just made a new acquaintance. Silence descended over the car, and she breathed deeply, taking the opportunity to stretch out her legs, snuggle into her jacket, and try to relax. A soft tapping noise caught her attention after a few minutes. She turned her head to watch Fitz drumming his fingers lightly on the steering wheel in time to the song on the radio. As she watched him, he mouthed a few words to the song, bobbing his head to the music until he caught her watching him. His laugh, embarrassed but good-natured, was cute.

Like, really cute.

“Sorry. Habit,” he said.

“Hey, don't let me stop you,” Kira said with a smile. “I'm all for free entertainment.”

“Well, you'd definitely be getting what you paid for, in this case. So, um . . . Seth says you're here for a few weeks. Big plans in the Cove?”

“Not so much,” she replied, turning her attention fully to him. Outside the car he'd seemed pretty comfortable, but now, one-on-one, Fitz didn't seem as sure of himself.

He's shy. And is he . . . blushing? Yep, just a little.

Kira watched him with a sinking feeling. There was no getting around it. The man was adorable.