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“I hope so.” Angie sounded far away. Luna wanted to tap into Angie’s head and hear all the underlying reasons for her fears. As she was about to encourage her, Angie said, “After my mom left, my dad brought home a lot of women. Every single one of them had big hair, called me honey, and wore leather. I just wanted my dad to notice me, even once.”
Luna finally gave in to her need and wrapped her arms around Angie. “I don’t have big hair.” She kissed Angie’s eyelids. “I promise to never call Oliver honey.” She kissed her nose. “And I’ll throw out all my leather today. Right now, if you want.”
“Tell me what you want.” Angie tucked her head beneath Luna’s chin.
“Invite me to your barbecue.” Luna regretted her words immediately.
“I can’t.” Angie’s body tensed and she pulled away from Luna. “It’s just too soon.”
Luna wanted to go to Angie’s goddamned Labor Day barbecue, but was afraid she wouldn’t win the battle. She didn’t want a tense situation to escalate again. She compromised. “Okay, how about this? My friends are having a get-together next Sunday. Go with me?” Luna had known about the event for months, but had resigned herself to not attending when she and Ruby split. It was the perfect “safe” date with Angie. Not exactly public, but out of the house. The environment was friendly, and once committed, Angie wouldn’t bail. Luna didn’t know enough about her, but she was certain of that little detail.
“What’s the occasion?”
“Their anniversary.” Good. Angie was asking questions. She might actually go.
“What kind of gathering? Dinner? Party? Dinner party?”
“A low-key party.” Luna was getting excited.
“Any chance I’ll know anyone there?”
“Perez.” Luna didn’t want to mention Ruby. She weighed the cost of telling versus letting Angie discover for herself when they arrived. Full disclosure won over self-preservation. “Ruby will probably be there, too.”
“I have to work.” Angie’s answer was firm.
“Can’t you trade shifts with someone? Please?” Luna’s request was out of character. Work came first. Suggesting that Angie request a last-minute schedule change showed how desperate she was. Angie’s answer was more important than she wanted it to be. “Please.”
“I could try.” Angie didn’t sound convinced. “And I’ll have to make sure my dad can watch Oli.”
Oli, not Oliver. How long would it be before she’d be comfortable using the nickname herself?
“Thank you.” Luna kissed Angie’s cheek. For the moment she was content to simply hold Angie’s hand and trust her promise to try.
Chapter Nine
Labor Day, September 7
“Toss these on the grill for me, Angie.” Jack handed her a platter of marinated steaks. This was their regular agreement for food prep. Jack did all the real cooking, but Angie managed to barbecue without destroying anything.
Oliver stood at the counter with Jack, trying to perfect the art of making a melon basket. Angie pilfered a chunk of watermelon and kissed the top of Oliver’s head. Then she snatched a piece of ice from the bag in the sink and dropped it down the back of Oliver’s shirt. He squealed and chased her to the deck. The steaks could wait until she’d thoroughly tormented him.
A couple of laps around the backyard and Angie surrendered. Oliver smiled sweetly, dumped a full cup of ice over her head, and ran inside before she could catch him. Could have been worse, she knew. Last time she provoked him, he’d doused her with the garden hose when she wasn’t looking.
She loved days like this. It was eighty-two degrees, with a few fluffy, white clouds floating across the sky. Most important, Oliver was in a rare good mood. He could flip to surly at any moment, but hopefully his pleasant attitude would hold. She shook the last of the ice chips from her hair and collected the steaks from the kitchen. Giving Oliver a warning glare, she retreated to the deck.
“You need any help?” Tori entered through the side gate, holding a six-pack of beer. Angie was surprised to see Perez following close behind Tori, holding her other hand.
So that was how Luna knew about the barbecue this weekend. She felt like an even bigger jerk for not inviting Luna, but she just wasn’t ready to set Oliver up like that. God forbid he got attached and then Luna disappeared from their lives.
“I’m good.” Angie dropped the steaks on the hot grill one by one. The sizzling lulled her. “I’ll take a beer, though.”
Tori set the six-pack on the patio table, twisted the top off a bottle, and handed it to Angie. “Want these inside?”
Angie pointed to the red cooler next to the back door. “Cooler is full of ice. You can put them in there.”
Perez opened two more, offered one to Tori and kept one for herself, then placed the remaining three in the cooler.
“Nice to see you, Perez.” Angie hoped she sounded friendly. It wasn’t Perez’s fault that Tori invited her without mentioning it to Angie.
“You, too, Angie. Sure I can’t help with anything?”
“Nope, I got this. You can check with my dad if you’re dying to ball up melon. Personally, I think you should pull up a chair and relax.” Angie took a sip of beer.
“I expected to see Luna here.” Tori looked around the small backyard. An exaggerated, unnecessary motion since the entire yard was approximately the size of a cracker box. “Is she in the house?”
“She’s not here.” Angie flipped the steaks, closed the lid, then joined Perez at the table.
“Why not?” Tori looked genuinely confused.
“I didn’t invite her.” Angie forced herself not to fidget with the label on her beer. She didn’t have any reason to feel guilty, so she had no reason to act like she was. Fidgeting, she’d read once, was a sign of guilt.
“Okay.” Tori took a drink of beer and blessedly let the subject drop.
Sandy, Jack’s girlfriend du jour, came through the back door carrying a bowl of potato salad. She set the dish on the table and took a beer from the cooler. How could anyone wear that much leather on such a warm day? The pants she understood as a safety precaution when riding, but the bustier? Angie couldn’t come up with a single function it served other than sex appeal. Thinking about her dad and Sandy—and Sandy’s reason for wearing sexy leather clothes around her dad—made Angie a little queasy. Luna would probably look hot as hell in the same outfit, but that didn’t mean she wanted Oliver to see it.
“Sandy.” Angie nodded toward her father’s on-again girlfriend and flipped the steaks. “Where’s my dad?” Sandy rarely ventured anywhere in the house without Jack at her side.
“Out front talking to Luna Rinaldi.” Sandy didn’t look happy about it.
“Who?” Angie choked. Sandy said Luna’s name casually, like they were old friends. Figured.
Sandy took a long pull of her beer. “Luna Rinaldi. She did a couple of my tattoos.”
Angie saw flames. No doubt Sandy was talking about her Luna. The same woman who Angie specifically didn’t invite to their family barbecue. What the hell was she doing in her front yard, with Oliver in the kitchen with a front-row seat? She’d kill Luna. And Jack.
“I’m going to check on Oli.” Angie headed toward the kitchen. “Tori, keep an eye on the steak?”
*
Luna was fed up. The more she thought about the role Angie had relegated her to, the more upset she’d become. She needed to continue their conversation, to convince Angie that she could be the kind of partner that Angie deserved. But how could she do that? She didn’t know what that kind of dedication looked like up close. She’d been raised by a single mom, and all her relationships had been spontaneous and short-lived. Until Ruby, that was. But how much had the three years they’d been exclusive counted since she hadn’t made an emotional commitment?
She’d left Coraggio earlier with no destination in mind, letting her feet decide which way to go when she reached an intersection. Walking was therapy and Luna didn’t get out often enough. When s
he looked up, she realized she was standing in front of Angie’s house. However unintentional, she’d walked directly to the source of her frustration.
Laughter filtered out of the open door, followed by a squealed, “Mom, stop.”
Then she heard Angie’s laugh along with Oliver’s. “What’s the matter, son? You afraid of a little ice?”
Oliver laughed again, a desperate peal of giggles that made Luna smile. She pictured herself chasing Oliver and Angie around the kitchen and debated knocking on the door, but opted against it. No reason to upset Angie and humiliate herself by showing up uninvited.
She was about to leave when a motorcycle roared into the driveway and an older man, presumably Angie’s father, walked out to meet it.
He ushered the rider, a woman he greeted with a lingering kiss, toward the house and was almost to the door when he saw Luna hovering on the edge of the yard. He sent his date in without him and greeted Luna.
“Hello,” he said, with an inviting smile. His eyes reminded Luna of Angie’s. “Are you coming inside?”
Crap, he thought Luna belonged there. She needed to extract herself as quickly as possible.
When she didn’t answer right away, he continued. “You’re Luna, right? Angie’s friend.”
“Yes,” Luna shook his hand, “it’s good to meet you.”
“I’m Jack, her father.”
He had a firm handshake, one that said he could be trusted. The look in his eyes as he regarded Luna said he loved his family and would protect them. Luna liked him immediately.
“So, what are you waiting for?” Jack gestured toward the house. “Good food and better beer are right this way.”
Luna held back. “No, I really need to be going.”
“Don’t be silly. Angie is right inside. I’m sure she’d like to see you.”
Luna wasn’t sure of that. Angie had made it clear that she didn’t want Luna to be a part of her family get-together. “I don’t know—”
“And Oliver is looking forward to getting to know you. He hasn’t stopped talking about you since he met you at the grocery store. Your tattoo left quite the impression.”
So Angie had discussed Luna with her family and still didn’t want her to come around?
“Perhaps another time.” She took a hesitating step away from Jack, but before she could make a full retreat, Oliver burst through the front door. He ran up to Luna, almost tackling her. “Luna! You’re here. Mom said you weren’t coming.” His smile was huge.
“I’m not. I was just walking by.”
“You have to come in.” He tugged on her arm. “You should see all the food. Me and grandpa have been cooking all morning.”
As Oliver towed Luna toward the house, Luna stared at her feet, unable to believe they were moving. She certainly hadn’t given them permission to do so.
“Oliver, wait.” Luna planted her feet. “I’m not supposed to be here.”
“Why not?” Oliver’s eyes were big and brown, and when he looked at Luna, she wondered how Angie ever denied him anything.
Luna stuffed her hands in her back pockets and looked back and forth between Oliver and Jack. “I wasn’t invited.”
“What?” Oliver yelled, and Luna flinched. She never should have come here. Damn feet.
“It’s okay, I’ll just—”
“No.” Oliver grabbed her hand again. “Don’t go. You said you weren’t invited. Well, you are now. I’m inviting you.” He jutted his chin out, daring her to disagree.
Luna looked past Oliver and saw Angie standing in the doorway. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her body rigid. Luna could feel her glare across the yard. She took a deep breath, smiled, and waved.
Oliver tugged her sleeve again. “Come on.”
“You might as well join us. Can’t possibly make things any worse.” Jack patted her shoulder, and Luna liked his practical approach to the upcoming train wreck.
“Yeah, I guess.” Luna squared her shoulders and followed Oliver.
*
“You didn’t eat very much.” Luna sat next to Angie.
It was the first time all afternoon they’d been alone, and Angie was almost surprised when Luna spoke. She’d carefully avoided Angie until that point.
Angie shrugged. “Not hungry.” She was still fuming over Luna’s appearance at her family gathering.
“I didn’t plan this, you know.” Luna ran her knuckles over the back of Angie’s hand. Despite her anger, Angie’s body responded. She pulled her hand away.
Angie started to stand. She wasn’t interested in Luna’s explanation.
“Angie,” Luna grabbed her hand, “please, wait.”
“For what, Luna? We talked about this, then you show up at my home uninvited, insinuate your way into a family function, and you’ve sat there acting like you belong.” Angie ticked the items off on her finger. The hurt on Luna’s face made Angie pause, but it didn’t stop her. “You don’t get to do that, Luna. You just don’t.”
Luna’s expression flashed from hurt to anger and back to hurt. “It’s not like that. I told you, I didn’t plan to come here. Your son dragged me inside.” Luna pushed her hands through her hair. “I tried to leave, damn it.”
“Not hard enough.” Angie stood and placed her hands on the table. “Better yet, you shouldn’t have showed up here.” Angie wanted to yell and scream until Luna understood. It was bad enough to have her father grilling her for information. She didn’t want Oliver getting attached this early in their relationship. It wouldn’t be fair to him. She forced herself to keep her voice level. “How the hell did that happen anyway?”
“I told you. I was frustrated and went for a walk. I didn’t think about where I was going. When I looked up, I was here.”
“You still should have left.”
Luna threw her arms up. “Why?”
“What do you mean why? Do you make a habit of showing up at people’s houses uninvited?”
“Why wasn’t I invited?” Luna’s voice trembled slightly. “Perez was, for Christ’s sake. Why wasn’t I?”
“I didn’t know Tori did that.” Angie looked at her lap. The hurt in Luna’s eyes made more sense now. Angie wondered how long Luna had been chewing on the inequity.
“You’re avoiding the question.”
“Luna, this is where I live.” Angie made a sweeping gesture with her arms.
“Yes.” Luna stepped close and took Angie’s hands. “I want to know all of you, especially here.”
Angie melted just a little, but refused to lose sight of her original objection. “You don’t understand. Oliver lives here.”
“I want to know him, too.”
How could she explain to Luna that she had to protect Oliver? That she didn’t want Oliver to get attached and then get his heart broken when Luna flaked on him? Luna wouldn’t understand.
“That’s sweet, really it is, and maybe someday we can do something about that, but right now it’s still too soon.” Angie took a deep breath. “If Perez and Tori never see each other after today, it won’t make a difference to Oliver. What I do, what you do, could hurt him.”
Before Luna could respond, the others joined them on the deck again.
Even though their discussion was rather loud at times, Angie chose to believe that it took place in a bubble of isolation and that Oliver couldn’t possibly have overheard them through the open door. Angie dropped into her seat and tugged her hand free of Luna’s grip. The subject was closed.
“Luna,” Jack smiled, “I don’t know anything about you. Start with your childhood and work forward from there.”
“Wow. No pressure.” Luna wiped her hands on her jeans.
“I’m kidding. Tell me something simple, like about your work.”
Angie laughed on the inside. She had no idea how much Jack would enjoy playing the protective father. This was the first time he’d had the opportunity.
“I own a small business, but we are expanding.” Luna’s foot twitched nervously and Angie
almost felt sorry for her. Almost. Luna got herself into this, she could get herself out.
“Yes, but what do you do?”
Jack knew damn good and well what Luna did. Angie had told him.
Sandy tugged the front of her bustier to the side and revealed a rose. “Tattoos. She did this one.”
“Oh, yeah.” Luna looked closer and nodded. “I thought you looked familiar.”
Angie took Luna’s hand. On top of everything else, her girlfriend had seen her father’s girlfriend topless. It was her very own fucked-up version of seven degrees of separation.
Jack continued his interrogation. “Why tattoos, Luna?”
Luna laced her fingers with Angie’s and pulled her hand into her lap. “I had to do something with my MFA, and starving artist just didn’t sound appealing.”
“MFA?” Jack asked.
“Master of Fine Arts. It was easier than the engineering degree my mom wanted me to get.”
“You have a master’s?” Angie shook her head, certain she’d heard Luna wrong. Luna gave people tattoos for a living. She wasn’t curator at the Portland Art Museum. How the hell did she end up with an MFA? Until thirty seconds ago, Angie would have sworn there was some snooty restriction involving leather and advanced degrees. Luna had dropped her beliefs through a blender and suddenly she was inside a Picasso painting. All the expected parts were there, but she couldn’t make sense of it.
“Don’t look so surprised.”
“Do you have a degree, Perez?” She had to find the reverse button that would undo the brain-scramble, or she’d have to create a new world order in her head, one where tattooing was a perfectly legitimate occupation and leather-wearing women weren’t destined to give her moral cavities.
“Yeah, but only a BA. I ran out of money before I finished my master’s. Besides, Luna agreed to take me on as an apprentice. That’s worth more than a MFA in the tattoo world.”
“Really?”
“Close.” Perez nodded. “Luna’s the best.”
“I’m okay.” Luna squeezed Angie’s hand.