Grant took her good mood as a sign that Jules hadn’t mentioned what had gone down between them. As much of a relief as that was, it tore him up inside, because he knew she was suffering, too, and he didn’t want her to be alone.
Jules’s voice tiptoed through Grant’s mind again. What do you believe in? She’d been right about painting, and the things she’d added to the bungalow definitely cheered him up…before he’d sent her away. Now they reminded him of what he was missing. He was starting to think he’d given her the wrong answer. He should have told Jules he believed in her.
“Everyone’s here, and nobody is fighting yet,” Bellamy said as he hung up his jacket and Fitz hung up his coat. “That’s got to be a good sign.”
“We can hope,” Fitz said.
“You look nice, squirt,” Grant said as she hugged him.
“Thanks,” she said, knocking fists with Fitz as they’d done forever. “This is one of the blouses from the sponsor I told you about. Your timing is perfect. We just finished making lunch.”
“I have a bone to pick with you.” Keira stalked down the hall, pointing a finger at Grant, her light-brown hair bouncing with each determined step. “You told me that you weren’t hooking up with Jules, but Tessa saw her driving away from your place last night.” Tessa Remington was Brant’s youngest sister, a local pilot.
Shit. “What the hell was Tessa doing out by my place last night?”
Keira planted a hand on her hip, looking twelve years old again, full of confidence and too big for her britches, like when she’d forbidden him to join the military. I can and I will tell you what to do! You can’t go off to war. You might get killed, and then what? You expect me to be okay with never seeing you again? Tears, and a long night of trying to explain to his twelve-year-old sister why he had to get the hell off the island, had ensued.
“How should I know?” Keira narrowed her eyes and said, “Don’t change the subject.”
Fitz elbowed him. “Dude, you and Jules? Is that why you didn’t go out with us last night?”
“No.” Grant glowered at Keira. “What’d I tell you about spreading rumors about Jules?”
“Oh my gosh, you guys!” Bellamy snapped. “You know how Jules is. She can’t stand to see anyone having a hard time. She’s just trying to help brighten Grant’s days, that’s all.”
“And his nights, apparently,” Keira said, holding Grant’s gaze.
“Why do you care, Kei?” Fitz challenged as Wells came down from upstairs, eyeing them. “He’s allowed to have a life.”
“I don’t care in a bad way. I just don’t like being lied to,” Keira explained.
Wells looked at Grant. “What’s going on? Who lied to Keira?”
“Keira thought Grant and Jules were hooking up,” Bellamy explained.
“Whoa, really?” Wells cocked a grin. “You must have a death sentence after the way Archer went after you the other day about her.”
Grant scowled. “We’re not hooking up, but if we were, it wouldn’t be anyone else’s business. Including Archer’s.” He headed down the hall toward the kitchen.
“Except mine.” Bellamy rushed to his side. “Jules is my best friend. I’d probably know you were going to hook up before you did.”
Clearly not, thank God. Never in his life did he imagine wanting to hook up with one of his youngest sister’s friends—and he didn’t want to hook up with Jules. He wanted a hell of a lot more. If only his relationship with his father wasn’t so fucked up and the people on the island didn’t treat him as if he were made of glass. If only he knew what the hell he was going to do with the rest of his life. Maybe if all that fell into place, he could consider staying on the island and would have something to offer Jules. But he knew better than to hold his breath.
Keira fell into step on his other side, speaking in a hushed voice. “You don’t have to keep secrets from me. You can trust me. I told you when we were kids that I had a crush on Jamison.” Jamison was one of Brant’s younger brothers.
“No you didn’t,” Grant said.
“They went out in high school,” Fitz said as they walked into the kitchen.
“Keira went out with Jamison?” Bellamy asked, wide-eyed.
“Oh yes, she did,” their mother said, setting a bowl of salad on the table. She moved gracefully, speaking with an air of lighthearted elegance to go along with her perfectly coiffed fair hair cut just below her ears and impeccably applied makeup.
Their father sat at the table, and their eyes connected for only a split second, which was enough to heighten the tension in the air, before Bellamy said, “I can’t even see them together. Jamison is hotter than a bonfire, but he’s so Big Bang Theory, and Keira’s more…”
“Veronica Mars,” Wells suggested.
“Yes, exactly!” Bellamy exclaimed. “They don’t make any sense together.”
“Bellamy.” Their mother shook her head, then lowered her voice. “We don’t talk about their high-school tryst. It didn’t end well.”
“Relationships never do,” Keira said. “I’ll stick to my cupcakes and fictional boyfriends.”
“Why didn’t I know Keira went out with Jamison?” Grant asked.
“Oh, sweetheart, you’d been in the military for five or six years by then,” his mother said. She embraced Grant as Fitz said happy birthday to their father and everyone else went to settle in around the table, which was overflowing with food and flowers.
“How are you, sweetheart?” his mother asked.
“Good, Mom. You?”
“I’m wonderful now that everyone’s here.” She touched his hair, smiling warmly. “I know my handsome boy is under all that hair and that scruffy beard somewhere. When will I see him again?” She didn’t wait for an answer. She took his arm, the same way Jules had the other night, and went to join the others. “I think I made enough food for half the island.”
“It looks great, Mom.” His thoughts returned to Jules, and her penchant for buying more than she could eat. She’d love the spread their mother had whipped up.
Before his parents had separated, they’d had dinners at the resort four or five times a week, but after his father had moved out, their mother had begun cooking, reducing family dinners at the Silver House to three or four times a week. His mother wasn’t a great cook, and she didn’t love doing it the way Jules’s mother did. Shelley Steele cooked from the heart. She used to feed the whole gang of Remington, Steele, and Silver kids every chance she got, and everyone could tell how much she loved doing it. When Grant’s mother cooked, it had always felt as though she was doing what she thought she should, fulfilling a parental obligation. Not that meals weren’t made with love. Just the opposite, he realized as he looked over the array of foods she’d made. She tried extra hard to make their meals special, even though she didn’t love doing it.
“Your mother has outdone herself this time.” His father stood in his pressed dark slacks and crisp white dress shirt, holding Grant’s gaze with an uncertain expression.