Just A Kiss Page 11

  She wasn’t exaggerating about the craziness. LAX was jam-packed with passengers, making personal space a luxury nobody could afford. Even the sidewalk outside was three-people deep. Over in the taxi lane, two guys were arguing over who was there first. So much for being thankful, they’d be lucky if they got out of here alive.

  “Hey, Cait. Over here.”

  Caitie and Harper turned their heads in unison, looking at the silver-grey truck parked on the other side of the pick-up lane. The driver’s door opened, and Brecken Miller climbed out. His long, muscled legs were encased in dark blue pants, paired with a long-sleeved white shirt. He was wearing those familiar aviator sunglasses, and his hair was brushed back from his face. His skin held the natural sort of tan you only found in California, the evidence of long days spent riding the waves.

  “That’s not Lucas. Not unless he’s had plastic surgery.” Harper was staring, open mouthed.

  Caitie took a deep breath, preparing herself for Harper’s reaction. “That’s Breck,” she said.

  “Your Breck?” Harper’s mouth dropped open even more. Any minute and she’d be able to fit Breck’s truck in there.

  If her heart hadn’t been stuck halfway up her throat, Caitie would have reminded her friend he wasn’t her Breck. But she was too busy watching him cross the road, striding over the blacktop as if he owned the place.

  “Hey, how was your flight?” he asked when he reached them.

  That smile. All warm and full of promise.

  “It was good, thanks.” She looked around. “Is Lucas with you?”

  “He was supposed to message you. I had a meeting in L.A., so when I heard you were flying in, I offered to pick you up. Seemed crazy for him to drive all the way here when I was in town.”

  “Well that was convenient.” Harper grinned, tipping her head to the side.

  “Ah, you must be the famous Harper.” Breck offered his hand. Harper took it, shaking firmly.

  “That’s me. And I already know you’re Breck. Caitie’s told me a lot about you.”

  “She has?” Breck’s smile was still broad. Though she couldn’t see his eyes, Caitie knew he was looking at her. It made her feel warm and nervous, all at the same time, especially after her discussion with Harper.

  “Harper’s always full of questions,” Caitie said. “You’ll find that out on the drive home. If you were hoping for a nice scenic drive and some music, you’re going to be disappointed.”

  Harper elbowed her in the waist. “Caitie thinks anybody who shows an interest in her is too talkative. I call it being a friend.”

  Breck rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, talkative is good. I was up early this morning to get to L.A., and I’m already running on caffeine fumes. I’ll welcome the distraction.”

  “Ooh, is there a coffee shop on the way to Angel Sands?” Harper asked. “I’m dying for a frappé. Can we stop at one?”

  “Sure.” Breck shrugged. He turned to Caitie, grabbing the handle of her suitcase. “You okay? You look pale.”

  “I always look pale. Especially in California.” She shrugged good naturedly.

  “You look good, though,” he added. “Cute sweater.”

  She glanced down at the pink cashmere top she’d pulled on that morning. It was one of her favorites, hugging her in all the right places. “Thanks. It was freezing in New York when we left. We had to layer up.”

  “It’s not exactly scorching here either,” Breck said. “The temperatures have dropped like a brick.”

  “We’ll have to cozy up to keep warm,” Harper said, that smile still playing at her lips. She kept looking from Caitie to Breck, as though she was trying to take everything in.

  He lifted their suitcases into the back of his truck and pulled the passenger door open. There were two rows of seats, and Harper almost pushed past Caitie to climb into the back.

  “What? I’m tired,” she said, when Caitie gave her that look. “You can sit in the front with Breck and keep him entertained.”

  As though to make her point, Harper snapped her seatbelt on and leaned her head back on the rest, closing her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest. “Wake me up when we get to the coffee shop.”

  An hour later, after waking up temporarily for her frappé, Harper was snoring again in the backseat. When Caitie turned to look at her, Harper’s head was back, her mouth wide open. She really was out for the count. Biting down a smile, Caitie turned back, taking the opportunity to look at Breck’s strong profile. “I’m sorry about her. She has no control switch, she’s either full on or at a complete stop.”

  “She seems nice,” Breck said. He pulled his eyes from the windshield to look at her before directing his attention back at the road ahead. “I feel bad that I bored her to sleep. I swear she started snoring mid-conversation.”

  Caitie laughed. In the short time she was awake, Harper had managed to grill Breck about everything; his childhood, his time in Boston, the contract he was working on. He’d been in the middle of describing the Silver Sands Resort when Harper drifted off for the second time. “She was out late last night and we were up pretty early this morning. I’m surprised she didn’t sleep on the plane.” Except she wasn’t that surprised. Harper had been too busy arguing with her for that.

  “She seems like a good friend,” he said. “She’s very proud of you.”

  “What gives you that impression?”

  “The way she talked about your work. She was bringing you up constantly. And she kept looking at me to gauge my reaction.”

  Caitie wrinkled her nose. “Sorry if she’s a bit over the top.”

  He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes. “You don’t like people talking about you, do you?”

  He had the unerring ability to turn any conversation between them into something personal. She liked it and hated it. Any conversation she had with him made her feel special, but it made her feel exposed, too. “I haven’t really thought about it,” she said. “I guess I’m a fairly private person. In my line of work I have to keep things confidential. I’ve learned not to talk about everything, because it’ll usually turn around and bite me.”

  “But it’s okay for people to be proud of you,” he said. “It’s not false pride, is it? Look at everything you’ve achieved. Your own business, a life in New York. Don’t you realize how you come across to other people? Lucas never stops talking about you. Even Griff talks about how clever you are, at least as often as he describes you as hot.”

  She started to laugh. “Griff calls me hot? Eww. I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not coming from him.”

  Breck wrinkled his nose. “He’d think it was a compliment. And let’s face it, you’re beautiful. I barely recognized you at the beach club when you were here last time.”

  “Maybe that’s because I looked so out of place,” she said. Had he really called her beautiful? “It’s not like I spend a lot of time at the beach club, I never did. Not even as a kid.”

  He was looking at her again, and the warmth in his eyes made her heart skip a beat. Being in such close proximity to him was making her feel dizzy, as though there wasn’t enough air in the car.

  “That’s not why I didn’t recognize you,” he said softly. “It’s because in my mind you’re still the fifteen-year-old kid who cried with me the day my mom died. I still see her there – I still hear her in your words – but you’ve grown into an amazing woman. I should’ve known you would. You don’t have that much empathy and compassion as a child without it following you through life. I wish you could turn it on yourself sometime. See yourself the way other people see you.”

  The emotion in his words silenced her. She inhaled a deep breath, the air drying her lips and her tongue. Caitie wasn’t sure anybody had ever said anything so open, so honest, or so lovely to her before. She was almost jealous of the girl she’d been.

  “Are we there yet?” Harper asked. She had leaned forward, her head positioned between the driver and passenger seat. “I must have fallen
asleep again.”

  Had she heard their conversation? Caitie narrowed her eyes, looking at her friend. If Harper had been listening, she’d never hear the end of it.

  Caitie couldn’t bring herself to be sorry Breck had said it. Hearing his kind words had buoyed her up in a strange way. Heated her from the inside out. He was a good friend, a kind one, somebody she was lucky to have. And if Harper wanted to pretend they were any more than that, good luck to her.

  13

  “How many people should I set the table for?” Caitie asked. Standing in the kitchen was like being in the eye of a tornado, disaster looming before her. Deenie was running from pot to pot, shooing away anybody who tried to help. Harper had already been pushed out into the living room, ordered to help Caitie’s dad choose the wine, which was Deenie Russell code for ‘I don’t want to shout at you.’

  Caitie didn’t get any such consideration. She was used to her mom’s haphazard ways. Russell family Thanksgivings were always a mess up until the last minute, when somehow, Deenie managed to bring it all together. The outcome was edible, it was the process which needed a little work.

  “Let’s see, there’s us, Lucas and Ember, and Breck and his family. Oh wait, there’s Ember’s friend Rachel, too. What does that make? Ten?”

  “A small one this year, then,” Caitie said, biting down a smile. Her mom was notorious for inviting everybody who had no place else to go for the holidays. There had been years while Caitie was growing up when they didn’t have enough plates or chairs for people to sit in, and they’d knock on their neighbor’s houses to borrow them. “It’s nice that you’ve invited Breck and his family.”

  “I couldn’t stand the thought of them sitting on his sofa with takeout.” Deenie shrugged. “Thanksgiving is about being together and sharing whatever you have. Anyway, it’ll be lovely to see Daniel again. The last time I saw him he was eleven years old and cute as a button.”

  “I imagine he won’t appreciate being described like that now,” Caitie said dryly.

  “It’s nice to have them back. I worried about them a lot over the years. It was such a shame we lost touch.”

  The timer on the stove went off, interrupting her. Deenie pulled on her mitts and opened the door, a cloud of hot smoke escaping from the oven. It curled its way up to the ceiling, lingering there. Caitie peered across to see what was burning.

  “Why don’t you go on and set the table?” Deenie said from where she was kneeling in front of the stove. “Go on, shoo. Out of my kitchen.” Deenie turned and gestured at the door to the dining room. “There’s nothing to see here.”

  “Did you burn the turkey?” Caitie tried not to laugh.

  “No, I didn’t. Now get out and stop distracting me. I’ve got work to do.”

  Caitie scooped up the silverware, laying it on the tray next to the wine and water glasses. She carried it through to the dining room, kicking the kitchen door shut behind her. Even with the door shut, Caitie could hear her mom still muttering to herself about the food.

  In a little while Breck would be here. The thought made her heart beat a little faster. Breck, Daniel, and their father. People who had been out of her life for so long, yet that Christmas way back in time had been a defining moment.

  Breck’s desperate loss.

  Daniel’s quiet grief.

  Her own inability to figure out what to do. How to make things right. Because there was no way to make things right for them. Oh, she’d tried that Christmas morning with the stupid present, and again much later when she’d tiptoed into the guest room and wrapped herself around Breck. But the fact was, she’d felt useless in the face of such a mountain of pain. As if there was no way to scale it.

  She grabbed the forks, the handles clanging together as she walked around the table, laying one at each place setting. She wished she could lay her own feelings out as easily. They were a mess inside her, a mixture of memories and emotions, things she’d thought she’d left behind when she’d grown into a woman.

  “Happy Thanksgiving, little sis.” Lucas grabbed Caitie from behind, making her shriek. He squeezed his arms around her waist, lifting her with ease until her feet were inches from the floor.

  “Put me down.” She wiggled in his grasp. He was strong, more so than she remembered.

  “No way. Try and escape.” His voice was teasing. She loved hearing him so happy.

  “I can’t.” She twisted, but his hold on her waist remained firm. Even kicking her legs did nothing to aid in her release. All it did was make him laugh.

  “Come on, Lucas, you can put me down now.”

  “Remember when we used to do this as kids? I swear you were stronger back then. New York’s taken the edge off you. Made you a weakling.”

  “Tell that to my self-defense teacher,” she said, still trying to wriggle out of his grasp. Okay, what was it they taught her? She tried to concentrate. She’d been trained for this. All she needed to do was hook her leg behind his knee and jab her elbow into his stomach. She did it in quick succession, and he released her with a groan.

  “Christ…” He doubled over, gasping for breath.

  Her eyes widened. “Did I hurt you?” She reached out for him and he went to grab her again, all pretense disappearing beneath his grin.

  But this time she was on high alert, and slipped out of his grasp, darting behind him to get him into a chokehold.

  “What the heck?” he managed, his voice strangled. “Where did you learn that?”

  “Caitie, put your brother down,” Deenie said. She showed no surprise at the sight of her twenty-eight-year-old daughter choking her thirty-year-old son. “Our guests are here. Lucas, I need you to offer them all a drink. And, Caitie, can you take some appetizers out onto the deck? It’s warm enough to sit out there for now.”

  Caitie released him from her grasp, trying not to smirk at his look of surprise. “I took a self-defense course when I moved to New York,” she told him.

  “Smart thinking.” He nodded. “And it’s reassuring to know you can take care of yourself.” He rubbed his neck where she’d been holding him. “Remind me not to underestimate you again.”

  She grinned. “I will.”

  Five minutes later, Caitie walked out to the deck, carrying two plates full of raw vegetables and dips. She came to a stop, staring at the people in front of her, her heart full as she took each of them in.

  Lucas was helping her dad with the champagne, twisting the cork out with a pop. He poured it into the glasses her dad was holding out, and Harper took them and passed them around. Breck and his family were seated around the patio table, looking out at the yard so she could only see the back of their heads. Opposite them were Ember and her friend, Rachel, who was looking pretty in a pair of tight jeans and a strappy silver top. Caitie looked down at her own outfit – tight black pants, paired with a cream sweater and a thin, gold chain. She felt like winter to Rachel’s summer. The New York to her L.A.. She’d been pleased with the clothes when she’d put them on that morning, liking the way the fabrics outlined her curves. Now she wasn’t so sure.

  “Do you want some champagne, Caitie?” Harper walked over, holding a glass in each hand. The bubbles were hissing and popping inside, begging for escape, just like Caitie. In unison, Breck, Daniel, and their father turned to look at her. She was taken by the strong family resemblance.

  Breck was the first to stand. Scraping the chair across the deck, he walked over and took the tray of snacks from her hands. His fingers brushed against hers, sending a bolt of electricity up her arms. He smiled and it took her breath away.

  “Happy Thanksgiving. Let me take these for you.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips against her cheek. Her nerve endings were on fire, her face tingling from the sensation of his breath against her skin. She wanted to close her eyes and savor the moment.

  “Caitlin?”

  The second man joined them. Younger than Breck, yet with the same sandy hair and sparkling eyes. His voice was quieter and his stance less
dominant than his brother, but there was no mistaking who it was.

  “Daniel Miller? Jeez, you don’t look like I remember you.” She grinned at him. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

  “Since I was pre-pubescent the last time you saw me, I guess I’ll be grateful for that.” He smiled shyly, and it brought back the familiar emotions in Caitie’s heart. Though she was only four years older than him, in those days it had been a huge gap. Enough to make her feel maternal and try to make him smile.

  “I can’t believe you’re here.” She threw her arms around him. “Breck told me you were coming back for Thanksgiving. I’m so pleased to see you.”

  “Me, too. It’s worth putting up with him just to say hi to you again.”

  “I’m David Miller. I don’t expect you to remember me.” Breck’s dad offered her his hand. “But I remember you. Breck was right, you’ve grown up to be a beauty. It’s a pleasure to meet you again.”

  Ignoring his hand, Caitie hugged him. “I’m so glad you could come. Breck’s told me a lot about you.”

  “All bad, I expect.” Though his tone of voice was the same, David’s accent was different than Breck’s. Full of Boston character. He winked. “Don’t believe any of it.”

  “You should believe every word,” Breck said. “It’s all true.” He smiled at Caitie, and she grinned right back. God, it was so good to see them again.

  “Shall we sit down?” Caitie’s dad pointed to the table. Only Ember and Rachel were still sitting. “If we don’t eat all these dips, Deenie’s gonna be angry. And none of you will like her when she’s mad.” The way his expression turned to one of horror made everybody laugh. They followed him back to the wooden table where Daniel pulled out two chairs, offering them to Harper and Caitie, before sitting down beside them.

  “Breck, come and sit over here,” Rachel called out, patting a chair next to her. “I was telling Ember about the restaurant we went to last week. The one in the hills.”