“So, how ‘bout them Braves?” he asked, gulping down the rest of what was in his glass.
“They’re baseball, right?” asked Drea.
He looked over at her, a little surprised. “You surprise me sometimes, darlin’.”
“We went to a game once,” she shrugged. “We had gone up to Boston because Uncle Vaughn insisted that we go see some of the Revolutionary War stuff. I think he must have just read a book on it or something. But while we were there, Uncle Gray insisted we go to Fenway to see the Red Sox play, so we did.”
They sat there in silence for a while, sipping on the rum, Dalton refilling their cups every time someone was empty. They watched as the party continued, with everyone laughing and sharing stories. At one point, Grayson brought out a small speaker and coerced the newlyweds into a first dance. Drea could see their smiles from where she sat and a pang of jealousy overwhelmed her. She knew what they were feeling—she’d felt it just a week ago on the beach in San Juan. The feeling had overwhelmed her that evening, but in a good way. In a way she had never, ever wanted to end. More than anything she wished it were Kyle sitting next to her right now, feet dangling in the pool, chatting about what they might do differently at their own wedding.
She knew she should be sitting here thinking about her family and what a happy occasion this was. It wasn’t that she wasn’t happy for them, she would just be happier if Kyle were here with her.
Once the event was over, she could concentrate on putting all her numbers together for the spa. She had some basic numbers thrown together from her years of research of what it would cost to build out the space—the equipment they would need and the additional staff. But if the idea was about to become a reality, then she needed to put together some firm numbers to show her uncles.
It occurred to her again that Kyle had been right, and that this was her chance to make that dream come true. As much as she wanted to hate him for what he’d done, she knew that if she was going to forgive her uncles, she would have to do the same for him too.
“That’s what you do when you love someone, right? You forgive them?” Drea said, breaking the silence with her seemingly out-of-nowhere comment.
“Are we still talking about your uncle or have we moved on to someone else?” Leona asked.
“Both?” She paused. “I mean, he was right, this place is my life—I don’t want to be anywhere else. I just wish he was still here too.”
“Here, have more rum,” Dalton answered, pouring more into her cup.
“Just how much longer are you going to keep plying me with booze?” Drea asked.
“Until you no longer wish he was here,” Dalton said proudly. “That’s my job as comedic relief.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Kyle sat at the kitchen table in his childhood home, spinning his phone around in circles in his hands. Everything in him wanted to text Drea, tell her all about what he discovered when he arrived home in Florida. Out of sheer habit he’d started at least a dozen times, before catching himself and deleting it. The logical part of his brain knew he needed to apologize, needed to tell her he knew he was an ass and that he regretted it more than he’d ever regretted anything. But he also knew that wasn’t enough. You can’t just say “I’m sorry” after telling someone “to have a good life.”
He’d meant what he said. He did hope that she had the best, most wonderful life possible. One where s
he was happy and got everything she ever wanted. A life where the spa was a massive success and turned everything about the Indigo Royal on its head. More than anything else, though, he wished he could be a part of that fantastic life. But it was too late now. Maybe if he had stopped thinking about himself for a moment longer when she was in his room that day, they could have figured out a way to make it all work. She had been right on some level—Miller and Grayson had been perfectly accepting of their relationship. But as long as at least one of the uncles wasn’t, it didn’t matter how the other two felt.
Taking a quick peek at the time on his phone, he realized they would be right in the middle of the wedding. He wondered what dress Drea had decided to wear. She had pulled out a bunch from her closet a few nights ago and had them lying on the back of the couch. The one that had caught his eye had been a charcoal, almost black, silky material, with thin little straps and what he thought was referred to as a sweetheart neckline, not that he was all that good with women's fashion. The skirt of the dress had angled outward so that Kyle imagined spinning her around on the dance floor and it poofing out just a bit. The thoughts had made him excited to take her to the wedding, even if it was under the guise of being her best friend.
He wondered now if she had picked that dress or if she had gone with the black and white one that kind of draped itself, clinging nicely to her boobs. It occurred to him that he could text Dalton to check in, see how things were going, get a picture of him and the girls all dressed up. He’d sent a text to his buddy as he was getting on the plane coming back here asking him to watch out for Drea, make sure she was taken care of, so he knew that Dalton was right there with her tonight.
The refrigerator came to life with a hum, and that inspired him to grab a beer. A pity party for one called for beer. Actually, what it really called for was bourbon, but there wasn’t any of that in the house. There hadn’t been any beer, either, until Kyle ran to the corner store this afternoon for the six-pack that was currently chilling in there. Seems his mom had taken to only drinking club soda these days. He was happy to see her taking her health so seriously, but in this moment, he wished she still kept a little something hidden in the house.
Just as he was closing the fridge door, the overhead kitchen light came on, lighting up the entire room. His eyes burned for a moment as they adjusted to the light, but he recovered quickly, reaching for the bottle opener magnet on the side of the fridge.
“Why are you sitting in the dark?” his mom asked, walking in and standing behind one of the chairs at the kitchen table.
“Just didn’t seem worth the effort to turn on the light,” he retorted. He realized he sounded like an ass, but didn’t have the energy to even apologize.
“What the hell is the matter with you, Kyle?”
“Nothing.” He took a long pull on his beer, and leaned against the counter.
“You don’t lie very well. You never have. Now sit,” she said, snapping her fingers and pointing to the chair he’d been in moments ago.
He did as he was told and sat. She joined him at the table, pulling her chair in so close she almost looked squished in between it and the table.
“You have been sulking around this house for three days, young man. This is after you show up out of nowhere, unannounced, with no real reason for being here. So, out with it,” she demanded.
“I told you, I was worried. I got a text from Mrs. Maury that you weren’t answering your phone, so I came to make sure everything was okay.”
