“Good. Everyone should know you’re mine. Ours,” he amended as Oscar licked her cheek in a nonverbal echo of his owner’s statement. Before she could respond, he said, “We’re here.”
The driveway to his father’s house was long, at least a quarter mile, and Rosa gasped when they got to the end. “It’s so beautiful.” She’d never seen water so blue or that looked so pure and soothing as it lapped against the golden sand. A couple of ducks swam near the shore.
Drake turned off the engine, but stayed behind the wheel. “It is.”
She reached for his hand, sensing the tension thrumming through those two little words—and knowing that this time it stemmed from his wariness over seeing his father. “I think you’re right.”
“About what?” he asked.
“Do you remember asking me why I thought starting over had to be hard?”
She was glad when his mouth quirked up a little at the corner, even though he obviously knew she was talking about him and his father.
“Turns out it’s a hell of a lot easier to dish out advice than to take it,” he said.
It felt good to laugh. Felt even better to pull him in for a kiss. “Thank you for bringing me here, Drake, and for being so great during my freak-out this morning. In fact, I think I’d probably better thank you in advance for my next one. I have a feeling things may keep being messy and complicated for a while.”
“I love you.” He kissed her again. “It’s as simple as that.”
*
“It’s so great to meet you!” Suzanne Sullivan threw her arms around Rosa the moment they walked through the door.
Drake’s sister had looked beautiful in the photograph hanging in his cabin, but in person it was like staring straight into the sun. Suzanne’s eyes were so bright and intelligent and full of laughter that Rosa promptly fell in love with her second Sullivan. Third, actually, since she was head over heels for Smith after the way he’d gone out on a limb for her.
Drake pulled his sister in for a hug, then asked, “Is Dad here?”
“He had to go take care of a foundation problem at one of the properties he and Jean are working on.”
Drake took Rosa’s hand and brought her close, tucking her safely beneath his arm. Suzanne beamed at them as he explained, “After Dad built this house and moved permanently from the city, he started working with a couple of local builders—Jean and her son Henry.”
As Rosa took a few moments to appreciate the contemporary yet rustic-style house, she wasn’t surprised by the career he’d switched to. “This house is incredible. And it fits so well with the natural surroundings.”
The proportions of the home were big all the way around, with ceilings that she figured must vault up at least sixteen feet, and plenty of space. Room enough to hold four kids easily. Which, to her way of thinking, meant that Drake’s father had planned—hoped—that his children would one day come and feel welcome. Whether he’d actually done a good job of expressing that to his kids was another question entirely, but it made Rosa feel more hopeful for Drake than ever.
Suzanne spent a good minute or so giving Oscar some love before standing and saying, “I’ve got coffee on if either of you wants some.”
Rosa’s coffee need roared to the surface. “You’re a lifesaver.” Just like Suzanne’s brother.
With Drake still holding her hand, Rosa followed Suzanne into the kitchen—a perfect rustic kitchen built entirely of knotty pine, with green granite counters—where a steaming mug was soon pressed into her free hand. She barely kept herself from taking a too-greedy gulp of it and scalding off the top layer of her tongue.
“I’ll take our bags into the bedroom I usually use.” He kissed her before leaving the room.
Unable to stand letting the thousand-pound elephant in the room crush everyone, Rosa decided to be as direct as possible. “I know you’re probably really worried about your brother being with me.”
“I’m not.”
These Sullivans kept flooring her with how steady, how strong-willed and confident they were. Then again, she remembered being confident like this once. Before she’d let the show change her. Then the horrible pictures had been released, and shame had taken over absolutely everything.
It was that very shame, in fact, that had her saying, “You should be.”
“Why? He’s happy. Happier than I can ever remember him being. Both as a man and a painter, judging by the paintings he did of you. And even though I know none of this can be easy for you, it seems like he’s making you happy too.”