Something About Fireworks Page 3

  “Oh, that one’s true.”

  I can’t help but laugh as Gray hands me a bottle and sits down beside me once again, this time a little closer than before.

  “I thought you might like that. I haven’t tried one yet, but Zoe loves them. She said it’s kind of between a beer and a wine cooler.” Gray hands me a can of lemonade then twists off the cap of his drink—the same kind as mine.

  “Thanks. Camden!”

  My son looks over at me, and I hold the can of lemonade up for him to see. He immediately hurries over to me as fast as he can push through the water. I pop the can open and hand it to him. “Try to lean over the deck while you drink it.”

  “Why?” Camden asks, leaning over as instructed while he takes a sip.

  “That way, if it spills, it doesn’t get in the pool water.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Camden drinks down a bit more then sets the can down.

  “Camden! Hurry up!” one of the boys yells.

  “Coming!” He takes another hurried sip then rushes off again.

  “Someone’s having fun,” Gray says.

  “Oh yeah,” I say as I twist the top off my own drink. “He’s been looking forward to today. Swimming, junk food, and fireworks.”

  “I think all kids look forward to those.” Gray takes a long drink. “Wait until you see the fireworks tonight. The view from the backyard here is incredible.”

  “So I’ve heard.” I take a sip of the pineapple-flavored malt beverage Gray handed me moments ago. “Oh, wow. This stuff is good. Not too bitter or sweet.”

  “Well, there’s plenty more where that came from.”

  I guzzle down a good third of the refreshing drink. “I’m not sure whether that’s a good thing or not,” I say, laughing softly.

  Gray’s eyes soften as he regards me for a long moment. There’s an affection already there in his gaze, and something else far deeper. A loss or an expectation, or maybe just hope.

  “What?” I can’t help the way the corners of my mouth turn up without my permission. The butterflies kick up their uncontrolled flurry in my stomach, and my heart dances, beating a little faster.

  Gray twists his lips and gives his head a subtle shake. “It’s nothing. Well, it’s something, but it’s too soon to be something, so it’s nothing.” He scrubs his hand over his face and looks away, first toward the kids in the pool, then toward the patio where Russ and Zoe are sitting.

  “You know, that totally sounds like something I would say.”

  Gray turns his head and catches my gaze again, this time humor dancing in his eyes, the embarrassment I saw a moment ago fading away. He huffs a laugh. “Can you tell it’s been a while since I’ve done this?”

  “Honestly, no.”

  “Oh. Well, it has.”

  “How long?”

  Gray drops his head, letting it hang forward, and puffs out his cheeks along with a breath of air. His grip on the bottle in his hands visibly tightens. “Would you believe eight years?”

  There’s a strain in his voice, and it brings me back to what I’d seen in his eyes earlier. Loss.

  I’m kind of at a loss of what to say.

  “Well, I guess the dating part has been more than that. Ten years is probably more accurate.”

  “Mind if I ask why?”

  Still leaning forward, Gray glances back at me over his shoulder. His eyes flicker to something behind me. “Think we could go sit over there?” he asks, gesturing with his eyes.

  I look behind me and see a couple of unoccupied lounge chairs about six feet away under an orange patio umbrella—on one of them is where I’d set my bag. “Sure.”

  Gray gives me a tight but grateful smile and stands. He offers me a hand and I take it, letting him pull me to my feet. His rough hand slips away from my palm and I unconsciously clasp his finger to keep from losing the connection.

  “Camden,” I call.

  Camden turns toward me. “Yeah, Dad?”

  “I’ll be right over there if you need me.” I point to the two chairs.

  “Okay!” Camden resumes playing.

  “I’ll keep an eye on him,” Vae says, looking up at me.

  “Thanks.”

  Gray leads me over to the chairs. We each take one, sitting sideways to face each other. Our bare feet bump together a little. It’s somewhat intimate, with the shade of the umbrella giving the feeling of our own space.

  Gray takes a deep breath, his hands pressed together as he leans forward, elbows resting on his thighs. “I lost my husband on my birthday eight years ago.” He inhales deeply again, his eyes cast downward. “He was a cop, and the last couple hours of his shift—”

  He presses his lips together, squeezing his eyes shut.

  I swallow hard, unable to imagine that kind of pain. And on his birthday? How do you move on from that?

  “Anyway, Zoe’s been trying to get me to move on, but I haven’t been able to let go.” He lifts his eyes and his somber gaze meets mine.

  “You still love him.”

  Gray nods. “I do.”

  Silence.

  “But Zoe’s right,” he continues, “and I’ve finally realized that. I just hope it’s not too late.”

  “Too late for what exactly?”

  “To fall in love again. Have a family of my own. Things I couldn’t imagine to be possible after Jason died. Things I don’t want to live without anymore. I’m almost forty. I’ve already let eight years slip away. If I don’t do something soon, I may lose out on everything.”

  “What changed?”

  “Honestly?” Gray’s eyes light up a little. “You.”

  I hike a brow, glancing toward the pool. “Somehow I doubt that.”

  “Sorry, but it’s true.” Gray chuckles, one side of his mouth curving upward. “Something about you helped me realize how much I’d given up on life. After meeting you yesterday and then seeing you again today, I knew I had to try.”

  “Wow. Way to put pressure on a guy,” I tease with a little laugh, but what could I have possibly done to break an eight-year period of grief. “Just so you know, I have no idea what I’m doing.”

  “Neither do I. Guess we’ll just figure it out together.”

  “I can handle that.”

  Chapter 5

  Gray

  Dusk settles over the few of us still outside as Zoe’s collection of decorative solar lights randomly flickers on. Glass dragonflies, pineapples, frogs, birds of paradise, and many others cast a subtle glow among the rocks and lush plants. Firefly lights brighten and fade among the vines and bushes and even in the trees.

  I usually sit here alone on the fourth of July, nursing a beer while staring at the little lights around me until they blur, filled with regret and grief. Longing for a future I could never have. Wishing I could change events of the past.

  Tonight is so very different.

  Tonight, I’m not alone. With a beer in hand, I find I’m unable to tear my gaze away from the man who seems to have given me a sense of hope. A renewed desire for things lost to me… taken from me.

  “Mind if I sit?”

  I blink and look up. “Hey, Zo.”

  My sister sits in the chair beside me as I resume watching Ollie playing with Camden in the pool. Right now, they are the only two in the water, and I can hear Ollie telling Camden it’s time to get out and dry off.

  “Just a little longer?” Camden asks. It’s a bit of a whine.

  “No, buddy. You’ve had enough swimming today.”

  “Why aren’t you in there with them?” Zoe asks quietly.

  I give my head a subtle shake. “I didn’t want to intrude too much.”

  “You like him, don’t you?” Her voice is soft, sincere.

  I nod slowly. “I haven’t met anyone in a long time that makes me feel this way, and we’ve only just met.”

  Zoe doesn’t say anything. I finally look over at her. She’s staring at me with a knowing grin spread across her face.

  “What?” I twist my lips
and wipe my hand over my mouth. “Something on my face?”

  “Oh yeah, there is.”

  “What?”

  “I can’t believe I just now figured it out.” Zoe snorts quietly and shakes her head.

  “What?”

  Zoe smirks. “How hard and fast you fall.”

  “I do not.”

  “Do I need to lay out the facts?”

  “Go for it.”

  “How many guys have you dated not counting Ollie or Jason?”

  “None.”

  “When did you know Jason was the one?”

  My heart twinges, but I don’t even need to think about it. I already know the answer. I was driving down a rural road when I came up on an old pickup pulled off in the dirt. The hood was up, so I assumed car trouble. Not knowing who it was but knowing few people traveled that route, I pulled up behind the vehicle as a man came around the side of the truck, wiping his hands on a rag towel.

  It ended up he just needed a new radiator hose, so I’d offered to take him into town to get one, bring him back, and help if needed. The closest parts store was about forty-five minutes away. We spent over an hour in my car talking. Together we got his truck running again. I went to shake his hand and something inside me just knew. I suddenly didn’t want to let go.

  “Well?” Zoe asks, breaking me from my reverie.

  “The day we met.”

  “I remember the first time you introduced me to Jason. I remember the way you looked at him. You were so in love.”

  I press my lips together and breathe deeply. My gaze still fixed on Ollie, I realize it doesn’t quite hurt as much to talk about Jason. It’s as if the bleeding has finally stopped and my heart is now healing after all these years.

  “Gray.”

  I blink and shift to look at her.

  “I’m seeing that same look on you now.” Zoe stands and comes around behind me. She leans over and wraps her arms around my shoulders. “I’ll give you a hint. Ollie’s a sucker for love-at-first-sight stories, though he probably won’t admit it, and he believes in them too. Well, love-at-first-acquaintance, as he calls it. It’s one of the reasons I hired him as my content editor. He can turn a non-believer with the stuff he writes.” Zoe kisses my cheek and whispers, “Here comes your future husband.”

  I glance toward the pool as Zoe releases me, and my heart does a flip. It takes all my will power not to jump up and pull him into a kiss.

  Ollie stops by the table next to me and runs the towel over his hair again. His bare chest and stomach are eye level, and I can’t help but imagine pulling him toward me and pressing a kiss to his skin, just below his navel… then a little lower…

  “How long until the fireworks?” Camden asks, snapping me from my drifting thoughts.

  “About an hour,” Zoe answers.

  “So, sixty minutes.”

  “That’s right.” I smile. “Did you have fun swimming?”

  “Yeah.” Camden shifts on his feet, the towel wrapped unevenly around his shoulders. “We don’t have a pool so I don’t get to swim much.”

  “Well, I have a pool. Maybe you and your dad can come over to my house sometime and go swimming.”

  “Really? That’s so awesome. Can we, Dad?”

  “We’ll see, bud.” Ollie helps Camden dry off a bit more. He kneels down to wipe down Camden’s legs and feet, and looks up at me. “Is there somewhere we can change our clothes?”

  “Sure. They can use the guest room, right, Zo?”

  “Yeah.”

  I stand. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

  Ollie grabs the small, purple duffel bag from under the table. He and Camden follow me inside. I lead them into the downstairs bedroom. “There’s a bathroom attached too. I’ll just wait for you in the kitchen.”

  “Thanks.”

  I close the door as I leave and head to the kitchen. Pulling out a stool at the island bar, I sit and grab a handful of grapes from the fruit and cheese platter that’s probably been sitting out all day.

  Russ walks in and grabs a can of beer from the fridge. Opening it, he stands opposite me and takes a drink. “So, you gonna stick around for the fireworks this year?”

  “Planning on it.”

  “It’s that guy, isn’t it?”

  “Kind of obvious, wouldn’t you say?” I smirk. Anyone could have deduced that much.

  “Not really. Zoe told me.”

  I chuckle. Okay, maybe not anyone. “You never were the observant type.”

  “It’s not that I’m not observant. It’s that I really don’t care, meaning I didn’t sit there and watch you all day like Zoe probably did. I could tell you were spending time together, but it’s not like you were smothering the guy.”

  “That’s good to know.”

  A comfortable silence falls between us.

  “So, Zoe tells me he’s a romance writer and editor,” Russ says.

  “Yep.”

  “Never figured you’d fall for that type.”

  “Neither did I. He’s cute though, huh?”

  “Christ, Gray, don’t ask me that kind of stuff.” A subtle blush tints his cheeks, and I laugh. Russ has never cared that I’m gay, but it’s fun to push him past his comfort zone.

  “Ollie’s downright handsome, if you ask me,” Zoe chirps as she enters the kitchen with a nearly empty cracker tray in her hand. Russ reaches out, grabs the last few broken pieces, and shoves them in his mouth.

  “Eavesdropping, Zo?”

  Zoe winks at me. “And what’s this ‘type’ you’re talking about?”

  “You romantic, writerly types,” Russ replies with a mouthful of food, poking her in the side as she walks by him.

  “Don’t.” Zoe laughs, squirming away from him, and sets the tray on the counter near the sink. “And is there something wrong with us romantic, writerly types, as you call them?”

  “Did I say there was anything wrong? I was just saying I didn’t think Gray would go for that type.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Gray, help me out here.”

  “You know, I think I’ll check on Ollie.” I scoot the stool back and put one foot down.

  “Come on, man. You’re supposed to back me up.”

  “But it’s more fun to let you try to dig yourself out on your own.”

  “Ah ha!” Zoe beams.

  “Out of what? I didn’t say anything!”

  I laugh harder.

  “Bro!”

  “All right, fine. He’s telling the truth, Zo.”

  “I know,” she smirks and arches a brow, plucking a grape from the tray. Zoe puts her other hand up, palm out toward me, and I high-five it. Russ has always been easy to rile up. Zoe snickers. “God, you’d think he’d learn by now.”

  “You’d think.”

  “Whatever happened to brother and sister against each other?”

  “Oh, that went away when you married into this family and we discovered you to be an easy target.” I grin.

  “Ha ha. Just you wait. Maybe I’ll get Ollie on my side.”

  “Get me on whose side?” Ollie appears seemingly out of nowhere with Camden.

  “Mine,” Russ answers. “These two keep ganging up on me. I was just thinking we need to even things out.”

  “Why me?”

  “Dad, can I sit up here next to Gray?”

  “Sure, bud.” Ollie holds the bar stool to keep it from moving as Camden climbs up onto the seat.

  “I think Russ is hoping that you’ll be sticking around for a while,” I answer, “and even things out.”

  “Ah.” Ollie casts me a quick, assessing glance. “I suppose it’s possible.”

  “I’ll take possible.”

  “Hey, Camden,” Zoe cuts in. “Have you ever played with sparklers?”

  “What’s a sparkler?”

  “It’s a tiny firework on a stick you can hold.”

  “Cool!”

  “Come on. Russ and I will show you.” Zoe looks up at Ollie. “If it’s okay with
your dad.”

  “Can I, Dad?”

  Ollie shrugs. “Sure. But listen to Zoe and be careful.”

  “Okay!” Camden hops down from the stool and races around to meet Zoe and Russ.

  Zoe takes his hand and leads him outside, flicking the kitchen light off at the last second. Russ closes the sliding glass door behind them, leaving Ollie and me in the kitchen alone.

  “Lucky kid. I never got to play with fireworks growing up,” I say.

  “Same here.” Ollie sits on the stool next to me, his knee bumping mine in the process. “So, my boss just purposely stole my kid and left me alone in the somewhat dark with you. Something I should know?”

  “Maybe I should have warned you earlier.”

  “Warned me about what?”

  “My sister has a stubborn knack for intervening in my love life, which, as you know, has been non-existent until today. She’s probably already planning our wedding.” I snort in an attempt to show I’m joking, but there’s a part of me already hoping that this man will be mine one day, for the rest of my life.

  “A little soon, maybe, unless you believe in love at first sight.”

  “Or first laugh.”

  The words tumble out of my mouth without permission. My eyes lock on his, and my heart lodges itself in my throat as understanding sweeps over his face. His cognizant gaze searches mine, and I lose myself in its depths. The spellbound silence stretches, and breathing becomes far more difficult, until Ollie slides his hand over the granite countertop toward me until our fingertips barely touch.

  “Or first touch,” he says, his voice soft, and maybe a little uncertain.

  My breath hitches, and I drop my gaze to our hands. The small connection between us sparks a warmth—the same warmth I felt yesterday when I shook his hand—and I find myself needing more. I clasp Ollie’s hand, wrapping my fingers gently around his hand until my fingertips caress his palm.

  As I shift and lean in toward him, our eyes meet briefly again before I drop my gaze to his mouth, and then the backdoor slides open behind me.

  “You’re dad’s still right here in the kitchen,” Russ calls outside as he sidesteps into the house. He shuts the door and hurries past us. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt. Just gonna see if the kids want to come out and play with the sparklers too.”