Page 25 of The Summer We Made Promises (The Destin Diaries #3)

V ivien spread the last of the wallpaper samples across the floor in Danny’s upstairs loft, then stepped back to make a final selection. Pale sea-glass green textured grasscloth, a bold navy-and-white geometric, or a sandy linen weave that caught the late afternoon sun just right?

Any one of them would be perfect in this light. Or maybe she was just in a good mood, doing what she loved to do and getting paid well for it.

Glancing around, she gazed out onto Four Prong Lake, its glassy surface now glowing with gold and lavender reflections from the setting sun. Which made her realize she’d been up here working for a long time.

She glanced at her watch and blinked. Nearly seven. Not late afternoon—early evening. No wonder her stomach was growling.

Danny had been downstairs most of the day, holed up in his home office, leaving her to work in peace as she tested colors and wallpapers, and used interior design software to virtually create the space she wanted.

She’d met with the window treatment company and had a few video calls with furniture vendors to make final selections.

But she had to be done now, so she gathered her swatches and samples into her tote and headed downstairs to find the shoes she’d left at the door and say goodbye to her client.

At the bottom, she stopped to inhale something…amazing. Something rich and buttery and irresistible.

And, oh—her gaze moved to the kitchen and landed on some one who kind of fit those descriptions, too.

Danny stood at the stove, sleeves rolled, wine glass in hand, lobster tails sizzling in a pan.

“That smells…unbelievable,” she said, unable to hide the amusement or fascination from her voice.

He turned and grinned. “A man keeps his promises. I said I owed you dinner. Stay.”

The command—not a question—sent an unfamiliar reaction right down to her toes. Well, maybe not so unfamiliar. He frequently had that effect on her.

Vivien opened her mouth to protest and come up with an excuse to turn him down, but…couldn’t think of a thing.

“Come on, you’ve been working up there for hours.” He notched his chin toward the stove, a divine smell of sizzling seafood filling the air.

“And I have several finished renderings so you can make a final decision on the built-ins and furniture.”

He lifted a shoulder. “I trust your judgment, and you need to eat.” He used a fork to lift a tender piece of lobster. “You need to eat this.”

The aroma hit her nose as forcefully as his sly smile.

“I guess I could…” Vivien swallowed, walking into the kitchen. “Have dinner.”

He poured white wine into a second glass and handed it to her. “Sit. You look like you’ve been rearranging the world upstairs.”

She accepted the glass with a smile. “Wallpaper and flooring samples. I did a FaceTime call with a carpenter for the built-in, and I ordered a pool table. I left the samples all laid out for you. You have to make the final decision.”

“Perfect. I’ll tell you I love all of them, so we can skip the part where I pretend to have an opinion.”

“You have a choice of soothing color palettes, but I’ll do the rest,” she promised, taking a sip.

The wine was dry and crisp. And tasted achingly expensive.

“Let’s eat outside,” he suggested, taking two plates from the cabinet. “The sunset over the lake is going to be almost as spectacular as my fra diavolo . I hope you like a little spice.”

A few minutes later, they were situated at the dining area on the back patio, with plates full of an absolutely gourmet meal.

“Where’d you learn to cook?” she asked as she placed a napkin on her lap.

“Here and there. And Italy.” He smiled, smoothing his own napkin. “It’s just a hobby, but I find it very relaxing.”

The sun was a slow-burning orange, setting over the lake like a spotlight made just for this dinner.

Danny poured more wine and leaned back in his chair, watching her with that easy, interested gaze he always seemed to have.

Then he lifted his wine glass. “To a woman who soothes with color palettes.”

She smiled and met his crystal with hers. “To a man who relaxes with lobster fra diavolo .”

“Bon appetit,” he replied. “I hope you like it.”

“I know I will.”

With the first bite, they shared an easy silence, not counting her moans of pleasure as the fantastic tastes hit. That made him laugh, and his blue-gray eyes light with pride.

“This is amazing, Danny,” she gushed.

“Thanks.” After a beat, he leaned a little closer. “Permission to change the subject and ask a personal question?”

“ Oookay .” She dragged the word out. “If you must.”

“Oh, I must,” he teased, a different and far more flirtatious spark in his eyes. “Was it a wretched divorce?”

The question threw her, not expecting him to change to that subject. Or get that personal. She managed to swallow and dab her lips to buy some time.

“Truly divine,” she said. “I mean the food, not the divorce.”

“I figured.” He curled some pasta around a fork and took a bite. “They’re never divine. The best you can hope for is…relatively painless and not too complicated.”

“It was,” she said. “Well, the painful part is mostly behind me, and the papers are signed, so the complications are over. All in all, I’m glad it’s in the rearview mirror.

I’m on somewhat amicable terms with him, and my daughter is too old for a custody battle.

She and I remain so close we are literally sharing a bed.

” She grinned. “That’s temporary but really fun. ”

“I bet,” he agreed. “So now what? How does the future look?”

“Like…a soothing color palette,” she joked, attempting to get back to the business of design. “Short term, I’m living in paradise and building my business.”

“And long term?” he asked. “Staying here?”

“Now that is complicated,” she said.

“Tell me.” It wasn’t a question—a conversation style she’d noticed and chalked up to his low-key alpha-ness.

“Okay, but it’s a bit of a tale.”

“I have all night.”

Oh, boy. That was a long time.

Taking the invitation to share, she dove into the whole history of the Summer House, trying to relate an abbreviated version. But he asked a lot of questions, not too probing, but thoughtful enough to show he truly understood just how thorny family history could be.

“So, it sounds like you’ll keep the house and stay in Destin,” he said as she finished.

“Not necessarily, but maybe.” She smiled. “How’s that for definite?”

“Do you like that uncertainty or does it bother you?” he asked, again taking the conversation a little deeper than she would normally want with a client, but…she liked his questions.

And, if she was being honest, she also liked his food, his looks, his beautiful waterfront deck, and this whole night. She liked him .

She lowered her fork, thinking about his question instead of his direct and interested gaze.

“Uncertainty doesn’t bother me as long as I feel like clarity will eventually come,” she said. “I am trusting the process.”

“Which involves…”

“Other people’s opinions, lives, finances, and relationships,” she said, thinking about the scope of the whole Lawson-Wylie-Summer House saga.

“For the moment, for the very short term, I’m taking it one day—and one job—at a time.

” She angled her head toward his house and gestured to the upstairs. “Thank you for giving me this one.”

“You’re quite welcome,” he said, finishing by putting his knife and fork on his plate and leaning forward. “As you can see, I’m making this place a home, so…”

She looked up expectantly, not sure where he was going.

“I’ll likely be staying here, too. I’m even considering selling my condo in New York.”

“Really? That seems like a big change. Would you move here because of Fiona?” She thought of his sister, her difficult client.

“I know, hard to believe I’d upend my life for a person so…not wonderful.”

She smiled. “You told me she had a good reason for her, uh, prickly personality. You also told me you’d share. Can you, or am I overstepping my bounds?”

“After you just gave me the whole backstory on your family feud? Of course I’ll tell you. After we put all this away and settle in to watch the moonrise.”

“Oh…I…”

He stood slowly, a smile pulling. “Or is that too much like a date and not enough like a business meeting?”

She gave in to a smile. “That obvious, huh?”

“Yep. And I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but when the sun goes down…” He jutted his chin toward the last vestiges of a golden glow on the water. “It becomes a date. So, you decide if you want to hang out here or grab your bag and samples and schedule our next business meeting.”

For a long moment, she looked up at him, letting the offer settle on her heart.

“I’ll stay for a while,” she said softly, getting another shiver from his look of satisfaction.

After cleaning up together, they took decaf back to the patio, sat side by side on a comfy rattan sofa, and lost complete track of time.

True to his word, he delved into Fiona’s story, sharing with great grief the fact that his sister had lost a child at a young age. She’d never had another, and it changed her completely.

The story not only broke Vivien’s heart, it gave her incredible respect and sympathy for Fiona, and touched her that Danny could tear up when talking about a nephew who’d never made it to high school.

They talked more about families, work, books, art, movies, and marriage. Eventually, they returned to their decisions about where to live.

“I want to be near water,” he said. “My other option is in the Hamptons, but it’s so…Hamptons.”

She laughed at that. “I would imagine.”

“My buddy is selling his house up there and I actually considered buying it instead of this, but then Fiona’s husband died and I felt responsible for keeping an eye on her.”

And now she understood why.

“The house is gorgeous, though.” He reached for his phone, which he’d left face down on the coffee table for hours. “As a designer, you’ll appreciate this. Look.”