Page 142 of Really Truly Yours

Marco laughs. “Glad to hear it.” He turns a wide, welcoming smile on me. “It’s great to meet you, Sydnee.” I nod pleasantly but don’t dare offer my sweaty palm for a handshake.

Grinning, he scuffs the top of his head and water sails everywhere. “Sorry, I lost a bet with your brother, Smith, so I’m going to go dry off now. Be back in five.”

Gray keeps me close and turns to the umbrellaed table where Tripp’s parents watch, smiling. “Sorry for holding up the show, Mama B.”

On the drive from Gray’s condo to the island, he told me about his close relationship with the Walkers. Both adoptive families welcomed the long-lost brothers into their respective family folds as one of their own.

Gosh, Gray and Tripp have dads coming and going. Do they have any idea how blessed they’ve been?

Waving off Gray’s concern, Barbara invites us to take a seat. “I called the restaurant. They’re holding our reservations an extra half-hour.”

I cringe in my mind. I’m half of the twosome that held up the crew, and worse, the crew saw Gray and me kissing. I pray the bet was unrelated.

I lower myself to the edge of the chair Gray pulls out for me. Reservations? I look down at my jeans and dull blouse.

Gray’s arm drapes my chair. “You look great, Sydnee,” he whispers near my ear.

Ten minutes later, the three younger couples are piling into the elder Walkers’ SUV. Tripp settles behind the wheel after helping Avery into the passenger seat. Only minutes later, he’s driving in circles, hunting down a parking spot in front of a clapboard building set at the end of a pier. He winds up letting us ladies out at the front while he and Marco and Gray park.

I watch other patrons, some in beach attire, enter ahead of us. The flood of anxiety retreats. While I appreciate Gray’s compliment about looking great, telling me our destination was casual would have been more helpful.

Since no one’s looking, I let my eyes roll. Men.

The restaurant is above a gift shop we pass through before ascending an outdoor staircase. Gray garners both surreptitious glances and stares as the line of us parade across the dining room to the round table reserved in a corner. Since we’re in his home territory, I wonder if he’ll make it through the meal without a request for an autograph or a selfie.

The dining room is open-air. Who can hear the classic rock streaming through the speakers with the pound of the surf already forcing conversation to take place at an elevated decibel?

Barbara, Jim, and Vance, Tripp and Annalise’s adoptive teen brother, show up a minute later. The parents order appetizers for the table. Standing next to Gray, the waiter, a grinning college-aged guy who welcomes him by name, takes drink orders. Gray crooks his finger and the guy leans down, listening, then nodding.

As he walks away, my tension level notches downward. Water, soda, iced tea. These I can deal with. I came by my dislike of substances the hard way, and I hate alcohol almost as much as drugs.

The gang laugh and talk until appetizers show up. Marco is in the midst of slicing into a delicious, spicy crab cake when Gray addresses him. “Speaking of shoulders, how’s yours coming along?”

Marco’s loaded fork freezes in a puddle of dipping sauce. Annalise hugs his muscled-up arm, giggling. “My hero is still in physical therapy.”

Gray winces. “Ouch. Sorry. PT is the worst. I’ll be back in it shortly myself.”

The vivacious blonde never stops smiling, does she? “It’s a pain alright—when he goes, that is.”

Marco raises the fork halfway. “Hey, I have a job. At least overpaid ball players get paid for their time in therapy.”

Gray’s smile turns cocky. “And quite well, at that.”

I love how he doesn’t easily take offense.

Love? There’s that word again.

Annalise’s sparkling eyes land on me. “You want to hear how this big guy hurt his shoulder?”

“Can we not talk about this, please?” But Marco’s frown doesn’t stop his wife from barreling ahead.

My midsection tightens.

“Aw, sweetie. It’s okay. You did it all for me, and you even saved my ring!” She wiggles her fingers, making the diamond flash. She launches into a crazy tale of hiking to a mountaintop, being proposed to, dropping the ring, and her new fiancé tumbling off a precipice in an attempt to recover it. Hence, the dislocated shoulder—after which, they got stuck in a thunderstorm above timberline and were rescued by a friend, technically the one who saved the ring.

The lives these people live.

Annalise kisses her husband’s cheek. “See? My hero. And all while being scared to death of heights.”

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