CHAPTER ONE
HANG TEN WAS LOCATED ON THE COAST between Santa Monica and Malibu, about a mile from Lecie de Laurent’s inherited California home.
From the front, the restaurant looked like an old warehouse that’d been constructed out of salvaged wood from ships that’d seen better days. The roof was tin, the windows single-paned. It didn’t look like the kind of establishment you’d typically find in southern California. But the parking lot was always full.
There were two entryways; the one on the left opened up to a bar that showcased hot bands playing hip music. The second door led into an open deck restaurant, and beyond it, a beachside dining patio, overlooking the Pacific.
Lecie de Laurent and her friend Deidra Ferguson had discovered the place three weeks ago, shortly after arriving in southern California. While the food, music, and ambiance were all splendid, there was another benefit to constant visits to the establishment. Hang Ten’s owner, Nick Matthews, was drop dead gorgeous—and on the verge of getting married. Literally.
But there was no harm in looking. And Nick was fun to look at. Chestnut brown hair sun-kissed with golden highlights, brown eyes the color of chocolate, a smile that dented his cheeks with dimples, and a trim, athletic body was enough to keep Lecie occupied for hours.
On this Friday evening in the bar, there seemed to be an unofficial party going on for Nick and his fiancée Ginny, who were getting married tomorrow.
They sat at the bar, surrounded by their friends. Drinks and high spirits were flowing. Nick looked happy, and Ginny, well, she was just…there, donning a faceless expression. Lecie couldn’t tell if Ginny was happy or excited or just plain bored. Maybe she was just nervous.
“See how she looks?” a woman in the booth behind Lecie said to her companion. “She looks inconvenienced. That’s not right for a woman who’s marrying a guy like Nick Matthews—tomorrow. Hell, I’d be loving life right about now.”
There was truth in what the woman was saying. Something about Ginny’s demeanor was off for a bride on the eve of her wedding.
“I thought she’d be happier,” Lecie said to Deidra sitting across the booth from her.
“Who?” Deidra’s brow furrowed.
“Ginny.”
Deidra glanced over her shoulder and lingered that way for a while before turning back to Lecie. “You going to stop coming here now, after tomorrow?”
“What’s tomorrow have to do with anything?”
“Well, he will be married.” Deidra shrugged and grabbed her drink. “It just doesn’t seem right, drooling over a married man.”
“My brother’s a married man,” Lecie said with a tight jaw. Deidra’s lingering crush on Lecie’s brother Andre was no secret to anyone. And even though Andre had been happily married long enough to have a two-year-old son, that hadn’t stopped Deidra from pining away for him.
“Point taken.” Deidra laughed a little and sucked her drink up through her straw.
In the past year, Deidra had lost a little weight, gotten a new hairstyle with some colorful blonde streaks over auburn highlights, and traded in those awful wire-framed glasses she used to wear for contacts. The new look had given Deidra a confidence that she’d always lacked.
Lecie and Deidra had left Deidra’s grandmother’s house in Florida about a month ago with their sights set on California. Lecie hadn’t told Papa she was leaving Florida to go to California. His daughter alone in America, without a chaperone? As Camille and Tasha would say, Papa would hit the roof.
Lecie’s American sisters-in-law had taught her plenty of American slang, and she was glad of it. While her accent would identify her as foreign, she didn’t want to stand out as a complete oaf.
So far, Lecie and Deidra were enjoying their independence, and neither would be ready to leave California anytime soon.
The display lit up on Lecie’s phone lying on the table. She glanced at it. Papa. By now, surely he knew that she and Deidra were no longer at Deidra’s grandmother’s house in Florida. He’d know where she’d gone and he wouldn’t be happy. Lecie hit the ignore button and pushed the phone aside. She would have to answer to Papa sooner or later, but not tonight.
“Your father again?” Deidra asked. Lecie nodded. “If you keep ignoring him, we’re going to wake up one morning, very soon, with one, or both, of your brothers knocking on the door.”
Nick Matthews gazed into his fiancée’s gray eyes. She gave him a smile that he knew was forced. Maybe it was the crowd. Maybe she was tired. Maybe she was just on edge about tomorrow. Ginny had a habit of worrying about anything and everything that could go wrong.
He stroked her silky dark hair back out of her face and rested his hand on her shoulder. “You want to go?” he asked. She nodded. “Everything okay?” he added, just to make sure.
She nodded again, and pushed her soft drink away. Ginny wasn’t much of a drinker, and she had little tolerance for those who did. “I should get some rest. Don’t want dark circles under my eyes tomorrow.” She gave him a slight smile, but he knew it wasn’t genuine because it never made its way to her eyes. They remained empty, bored. Or maybe she was just tired. Or simply didn’t like being around all the people drinking.
“So I guess you’re set on this spending-tonight-apart thing?” Nick chuckled when he said it, even though he wasn’t feeling a whole lot of amusement.
Ginny nodded. “Yes. Yes, I am.”
“Come on, Gin.” Nick turned on the charm, which seemed to work on every woman but Ginny these days. Still he tried. “I’ve been staying at the hotel across the street, to please you, all week. I want to come home. To my wife.”
Nick didn’t get why he couldn’t come to the house this past week. Her excuse—she didn’t want to jinx the wedding—was plausible enough, but since when had they adhered to tradition? They’d been living together for two years. It wasn’t like the wedding night was going to be something new for either of them.
“I won’t be your wife until tomorrow,” she said in a firm, no-nonsense voice. When she got like that, she was unshakable.
“Okay.” Nick’s heart thudded dully in his chest. If they weren’t getting married tomorrow, Nick might start to feel like Ginny was avoiding him. “Let me talk to Dean,” he said. “Then I’ll drive you home.”
Ginny shook her head. “I’ll take my car.” Her glance darted away from him. Before he could utter a single word of the counter-argument coming together in his head, she said, “Otherwise, I’ll have no way to get to the church tomorrow. You can’t see me before I walk down that aisle.” The seriousness in her tone squelched Nick’s desire to laugh. It wouldn’t pay to piss off his fiancée the night before the wedding.