“What about your extended family? Are your grandparents still around?”
Relieved he hadn’t pushed about her father, she said, “I never saw my mother’s parents after we moved, and my father’s parents are gone.” She was careful not to say they’d passed away. She didn’t like to lie any more than he did, and technically it was the truth. The mean-spirited couple was gone from her life.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” His brow furrowed again. “You said you moved after your mom died. Was it hard moving away from your friends and the place where you lived with her?”
“I don’t remember much about it except that it wasn’t easy.”
“I can only imagine. My younger brother Rowan lost his girlfriend, Carlotta, when their little girl, Joni, was an infant. He still drives the food truck he and Carlotta ran together, and he bought the café where they met just so he would always have that memory to share with Joni.”
“Rowan is your brother? I know him and Joni, but I didn’t know their last name was Remington. I met them through some friends on the Cape a couple of years ago.” Cait had met them through the Wickeds. Joni was a sweet little girl with a big personality, and Rowan was a nice guy and a bit of a hippie, which made sense given that Brant’s parents, Roddy and Gail, had always reminded her of seventies throwbacks with Gail’s earthy style and their laid-back attitudes.
“Really? I’ll have to ask him for all your secrets.”
“You already know more than he does. Joni’s lucky to have such a thoughtful father. My father never talked about my mother. After she died, it was like she never existed.” The hair on the back of her neck prickled. She’d never forget the empty feeling of walking into a house where her mother had never lived, or the changes in her father after her mother died.
“Jesus, you poor thing. I would have done anything to take away Rowan’s pain when he was grieving. I can’t imagine expecting a little girl to shut down those feelings.”
Cait needed to escape the memories and pushed to her feet. “Why are we even talking about my boring life? We should clean up and get going.”
She started closing the food containers, and Brant gently touched her hand, drawing her eyes to his.
“We’re talking because I’d like to get to know you better.”
“Trust me, you don’t,” she said firmly, her pulse quickening with the sincerity in his voice.
His expression turned serious again. “You’re wrong, Cait. I like who you are, and not just because you’re more beautiful than the sun on a cold winter’s day.”
A smile tugged at her lips. Why did he have to be so damn nice? “I’m not that pretty. Why do you even want to go out with me? Shouldn’t you be going after a free spirit with a personality more like yours or Abby’s?”
“I happen to like your spirit. We had fun shopping and out here tonight, didn’t we?”
“Yeah, but still . . .” Fun can turn ugly fast.
“You have no idea how great you are, do you?”
He was looking at her that way again, like he wanted to kiss her, and boy, did she want to kiss him. She rolled her eyes, a nervous habit she didn’t love but couldn’t kick.
“Get this through your gorgeous head, angel. I like you because you are sharp, strong, and creative. You’re not afraid to challenge anyone. I’ve never met anyone like you. Everything you do either turns me on or makes me want to know more about you. You’re unique, and your air of mystery intrigues me. But I’m not an oblivious twentysomething kid just looking to get laid. I see the wariness in your eyes, and I feel the walls you’ve built around yourself. But I want to understand what’s behind them, not run from them. This inescapable connection we share isn’t going away, and all of it—all of you—makes me want to try harder to show you that you can trust me, because I know that once you do, we’ll be phenomenal together.”
She could barely breathe for the desire building inside her with the intensity of his stare and the honesty in his voice. But it wasn’t just sexual. Something much bigger and all-consuming was urging her to let him into the safe little bubble in which she’d lived for so long—a prospect that was as scary as it was comforting and tantalizing.
His gaze softened. “You’re a woman who should be adored, and I have a feeling you might have trusted the wrong people in the past.”
She inhaled a ragged breath. He really did see all of her.
“I’d like to make sure that never happens again.”
The hope in his eyes was palpable. Every iota of her wanted to believe him, to step into the safety of his strong arms as she had yesterday. To block the rest of the world out and pretend she could be the open, carefree woman he deserved. But history held her back, and she regretfully forced her attention away, reaching for the containers.
“We should go. I have a friend picking me up at the dock.” She didn’t want to ruin their night. She’d had a wonderful time, and as scary as it was to admit the little bit she had, it felt good knowing someone other than her knew about the necklace and how much she’d loved walking with her mother and that her father had basically erased her from their lives. She hadn’t even told her sisters about those things. But she needed room to breathe, because whoa, that was a lot of herself to share.
“I’ll get this.” He took the containers from her, holding her gaze. “Is it the tatted-up guy who had his arm around you in the picture?”
She nodded. “Tank.” She’d texted him to say she was going to be late when Brant had gone belowdecks to get their dinner.
“That’s an ominous name. Is he your boyfriend?”
The thought made her laugh. Tank was more like a guard dog or a protective brother she’d wished she’d had growing up. She put her hand on her hip, going for a playful vibe to break the tension. “If I say yes will you stop hitting on me?”
Those all-seeing eyes bored into her. “Do you want me to stop hitting on you?”
Yes. No. I don’t know.
A slow grin spread across his handsome face. “I’m going to take that as a no.”
“I didn’t say no.”
“You didn’t say yes, either. Which is it, Cait? Yes or no?”
Oh God. She mustered all of her courage and said, “Sometimes I want you to stop, and sometimes I don’t.”
“Fifty-fifty,” he said with an even bigger grin. “I’ll take those odds. Let me clean this up and we’ll get out of here.”
He went belowdecks, and she groaned. Sometimes I want you to stop, and sometimes I don’t? What is wrong with me?
She texted Tank to let him know they were on their way. Thankfully, Brant let the topic go after that, and the rest of their trip was lighthearted and fun. She had no idea how he could make her feel like her entire body was on fire one minute and have her laughing until her sides hurt the next. He’d even coaxed her into piloting the yacht for a little while, but then she loved up Scrappy, hating that she wouldn’t see him for a couple of days.
When they reached the Cape, she gave Scrappy several last kisses and finally handed him over to Brant and gathered her things. “Promise me you’ll let him sleep with you if he gets scared?”