Staying Grounded (A Rocky Harbor Novel Book 1) Page 2

  “I told you I took that weekend off.”

  “Yeah, well, Sage will kick your ass if you mess up her wedding.”

  “As if,” Sage, his soon-to-be sister-in-law, said as she stepped out from behind Luke. “I wanted to elope in the Bahamas but your brother insisted on having a party.”

  “Says the party planner,” Graham teased before giving Sage a hug. He’d only met the sassy blonde a few times, but she seemed good for his brother. She owned a party planning business and put together the surprise sixtieth for their mom a few months back. Luke had been struck down by love ever since.

  From what he’d learned through texts, emails, and the occasional phone calls, Sage had been her sister’s surrogate, carrying twins no less. Luke mentioned signing up to be foster parents, focusing on older kids, like their parents had done. While Graham didn’t know Sage too well, she scored high in his book with those two acts alone. Luke deserved the best and it seemed like he found it in Sage.

  “Where’s Rach?”

  “She’s slaving over the hot oven. Come on inside. And Lucy should be here any minute.”

  Graham found Rachael in the kitchen and hugged her tightly before letting go. “Hey. It’s good to see you.” Rachael stepped back, twisting a dishcloth between her hands and looking deep into his eyes. His perceptive sister could always do that, look into the soul of the person she was with, and they’d turn into putty in her hands.

  The old Rach, the one before the dickhead ex of hers stole her smile, had the annoying habit of prying into her brothers’ business. She didn’t say much, but her soft blue eyes still spoke of compassion and understanding.

  She’d been in an abusive relationship and as far as Graham knew, refused to talk about it with anyone. Even though the guy was in jail, Rach still jumped at the slightest touch from strangers. Thankfully she didn’t coy away from her brothers’ hugs. They wouldn’t allow it.

  “Enjoying a paid vacation in Vacationland. Not everyone gets to spend June in Maine. I’m a lucky son of a–” His mother cleared her throat behind him. “Sorry, Ma. So where’s the troublemaker?”

  “Lucy is finishing up work and will be here in a few,” Luke said as he entered the kitchen, arm in arm with Sage.

  “How’s that working? Lucy working for Sage.”

  “She has a great eye. I convinced her to take a few classes and start her own Interior Decorating business. In a year or two she’ll have a solid list of clients and a good reputation in the community,” Sage said as she slipped away from Luke and poured the wine.

  “Damn straight I will.” Lucy entered the kitchen, loud and imposing as always.

  “Holy hell, Luce. What happened to the pink hair and the metal in the face?” The last time he’d seen the baby in the family she’d gone Goth, or punk rocker, or something over the edge. Being adopted at seventeen wasn’t typical, and Lucy definitely wasn’t the norm. The boys had all left the nest by then to start their careers, while Rachael stuck for a little bit before running across the country with her loser boyfriend. And Luke had stayed local, becoming a firefighter in Portland.

  They’d grown close, Luke taking on the big brother role, and when Rachael moved to California, leaving Lucy as the last Riley in the house, Lucy turned crazy. Not that she wasn’t messed up before becoming a Riley. They all were. They avoided talking about their problems and shoved their pasts under a rug. That was what bonded the Riley siblings.

  Knowing he’d have privacy, despite his loud, nosey family, Graham pulled out a kitchen chair and relaxed for the first time in weeks.

  “I don’t know about you, but I haven’t had a home-cooked meal in over a year. When’s dinner going to be ready?”

  “And just like that he comes back home, snapping his fingers, expecting everyone to fall at his feet.” Luke smacked Graham on the back of the head before handing him a beer.

  “Nothing wrong with that.”

  “Which is exactly why you’re still single.” Luke hooked his foot around the leg of the chair across from Graham and sat.

  Graham took a sip of his beer and smiled. “Nothing wrong with that either.”

  Luke nodded toward the women bustling about the kitchen. Rachael and Doreen did most of the cooking, giving Lucy and Sage instructions on what to set on the dining room table.

  “Looks like Sage has found her place in the family.”

  “Who knew? She can’t cook, hates doing anything domestic, yet Ma has found a soft spot for her and the feeling is mutual.”

  “I’m happy for you.” Graham clinked his beer bottle with Luke’s. “You always were the settling down type.”

  “Wouldn’t trade my life for anything in the world.”

  Graham finished off his beer, enjoying watching the women weave in and out of each other in the kitchen, knowing he and Luke would be on dish duty when the meal was over. Doreen didn’t raise stereotypical men. Anything but.

  And she sure as hell didn’t raise her boys to be violent men. Graham had a mess to clean up and he hoped his time with his therapist in Rocky Harbor could bail him out.

  Chapter Two

  Graham

  The following day Graham woke up early to the smell of bacon and coffee. After pulling on his gym shorts and T-shirt, he followed the smell to the kitchen and kissed Doreen on the cheek. “Now this is what I miss. Waking up to a beautiful woman in the kitchen with breakfast waiting.”

  “I’d send you to your room with no breakfast for that sexist remark if you were still living under my roof.”

  Graham chuckled and gave his mom another kiss. “Need any help?”

  “That’s better. And no, but thank you. Now sit down. It’s ready.”

  Graham pulled out the chair at the head of the battered oak table for his mother. “Just you and me this morning?”

  “Rachael went the grocery store. She wants to make all your favorites. She’s so excited you’re here. The poor thing was up at five this morning baking for you.” Doreen slid a plate heaping with bacon, eggs, and two blueberry muffins in front of Graham before sitting down.

  Yeah, Doreen knew how to lay on the guilt. “That girl could always bake. Why doesn’t she do something with that skill? Work in a restaurant or something?” Graham reached for his muffin and nearly moaned. His sister was a goddess in the kitchen.

  “She’s not ready yet. That ex-boyfriend did a number on her. For now she’s content here with me. I’m not rushing that poor girl.”

  No, Doreen wouldn’t. The woman had a heart of gold that took in strays. The more abused and hurt they were, the bigger Doreen’s heart grew. She had a gift, that woman.

  “Listen, I hate to eat and run,” Graham said as he shoved the last piece of bacon in his mouth and washed it down with orange juice. “I need to check in with that shrink the airline hooked me up with.”

  The only way Global Air would let him “vacation” in Maine was if he agreed to see a shrink while here. Before he could get his wings back, Graham had to attend counseling sessions and an anger management class, and be signed off as no longer a threat to society.

  “I’m sure after a few sessions the therapist will see that you’re not a violent man. I’m so sorry, honey, that the media has drudged up the past. I know you don’t like to talk about it, but I’m always here for you. As are your brothers and sisters.”

  “You keep feeding me like you did last night and this morning and I’ll tell you my deepest secrets,” he joked before clearing both plates and putting them in the dishwasher. “I gotta go. I’m on kitchen duty tonight. Promise.”

  After a quick shower, Graham changed into khakis and polo. No need to dress up, but he didn’t need to come off like a slob either. Rachael pulled in as he was leaving, so he helped her bring in the groceries, thanked her for breakfast, and drove into town.

  The therapist Global Air assigned him to was a local. His family home sat on a dozen acres on the outskirts of Rocky Harbor, a rural, trendy area between York and Portland where locals owned sm
all business and summer people supported them with their spending habits. The Rileys were on the lower end of middle class, which allowed the kids to have the benefit of a ritzy school yet live somewhere secluded enough to have the privacy they all wanted.

  Before being saved, he spent his childhood in a dingy trailer in northern Maine. When his dad was arrested for attempted murder and his mom was airlifted to Maine Medical Center in Portland, Graham spent time in random foster homes before making permanent residence in Rocky Harbor with the Rileys.

  Somehow the media got ahold of his shady past and used it to drag his name through the mud. Hopefully the new therapist would see him at face value: as an honest, hardworking man who was nothing like his birth father or the violent teenage boy his father had claimed him to be.

  Graham had worked damn hard to clear his name back then and continued to live a life the Rileys would be proud of. Granted, Doreen would be happier if he’d settled down. Other than that, he had no marks against his name.

  Graham had taken the top off of his Jeep yesterday, so now he breathed in the fresh sea breeze as he drove. Having an hour to kill, he parked by the shore and walked along Main Street. He never knew what to expect with the traffic in the summer. His mom’s place was only eight miles from the center of town and in July it could take nearly forty minutes to get there. June wouldn’t bring in the bumper-to-bumper traffic July and August would, but locals knew to tack on an extra twenty minutes in travel time anyway.

  Being a pilot meant Graham got to travel a lot, and visit every major city in the States. And acquire a collection of lady friends, and guys to hang out with as well. Lately he’d started flying overseas, yet he never had time to seek out the small communities, like Rocky Harbor. Growing up in the area, he never paid much attention to the small businesses in the center of town. His time was spent working on his farm and then at the airstrip learning the mechanics of a plane and eventually how to fly one.

  He could now appreciate Rocky Harbor and its unique offerings. One side of Main Street consisted of a large brick building broken up into small storefronts. Meanwhile, the oceanfront side hosted smaller, clapboard structures outlined in fancy trim work and awnings bearing businesses’ logos. Selling products from seashells and lobsters to blueberries and local food specialty items, the shops were quaint and inviting. Somewhere nestled in between the coffee shops, florists, and gift shops he knew he’d find the therapist’s office.

  Needing a little more caffeine before meeting his new shrink, he walked into Coast & Roast. Not normally one for fancy cafes, he was a little overwhelmed with the five thousand different ways to make a coffee. And tea. Holy crap. The menu listed antioxidants, herbal remedies, energy boosts, and cleansing powers.

  “Can I help you?” the high school kid asked from behind the counter.

  “Yeah, I’ll have a coffee.”

  “What kind?”

  “From coffee beans? Black.” The kid’s brow furrowed in confusion. Graham quickly scanned the board again. “Dark roast. Black. Medium. To go. Please. And thank you.”

  With a roll of his eyes, the kid rang up his order. Graham paid him and got his coffee. Sipping his beverage as he turned, he bumped into a beautiful red head who was heading out the door as well.

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t spill my coffee on you, did I?” He meant to check her clothes for evidence of his coffee, but his gaze couldn’t stray from her face. The sexy siren’s cupid mouth curled into the most gorgeous smile he’d ever seen, her bright green eyes twinkling in the summer sunlight streaming through the windows. Her laughter caused an unfamiliar sensation in his stomach and his heart actually beat a little faster. Must have been the jolt of caffeine.

  “No, you’re fine. I was in your way.” She didn’t move around him or even look over his shoulder at the chaotic coffee board. Biting her soft, plump lip, she grinned up at him. “I’m Maggie, by the way. I haven’t seen you around here. Vacationer, I take it?”

  He noticed her quick glance at his left hand and nearly laughed at her obvious attempt to flirt with him. “My family’s here.” His name wasn’t completely unusual, but uncommon enough that if he mentioned it, he feared she’d make the connection to the media blitz. “I’m visiting my mother and siblings.”

  “Oh,” she sighed, as if disappointed. “Well then, enjoy your vacation.”

  “My family is pretty busy and I’m not too familiar with the area,” he hedged. It wasn’t entirely untrue. Graham hadn’t spent much time doing the touristy things when he was a kid. “I could always use a tour guide. They want to keep me locked in the house all day and smother me with motherly and sisterly love.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad.” Maggie bit her lip again. “If you need to get out sometime…” She pulled a pen from her large tote bag and scribbled on the side of his coffee cup. “Call me.” Maggie stepped past him and out the door, her cherry vanilla-scented hair leaving his groin heavy and his mouth salivating.

  Graham’s gaze followed her swinging hips down the brick sidewalk, her black pencil skirt accentuating her heart-shaped butt, and sexy red do-me shoes elongating legs he could picture wrapped around his waist.

  Blowing out the breath he hadn’t realized he held, Graham turned in the opposite direction, toward the ocean, needing the cool breeze to simmer his lust down a few notches before meeting his new therapist.

  Therapy was nothing new to him. He’d endured countless sessions as a kid, something the state mandated. He always knew what the therapist wanted to hear, and replied in tandem. Despite growing up in a house full of violence and his father’s lies, Graham had rarely felt the urge to beat something up. He and Luke were adopted around the same time, Colton following shortly after, and the other two boys would take their anger and aggression out on punching bags and weights at the gym, often wrestling each other. Meanwhile Graham would rather run, freeing his mind and focusing on something better.

  Freedom. That’s all he ever wanted. And for the past decade it was exactly what he had. With the love and support of his family—from afar. He couldn’t handle the constant smothering and attention he knew he’d get from his mom and sisters. And from a relationship. Being smothered would bring out the aggression he’d buried so long ago.

  After getting his fill of fresh air, Graham turned back into town and walked along Main Street past a bookstore he’d never noticed, an ice cream parlor he remembered from his younger years, and a handful of touristy shops selling frivolous things tourists seemed to love. At the end of the street he found the renovated brownstone where he’d endure unneeded counseling sessions for the next few weeks. There were two front doors; the one on the right housed an architect, Montgomery Homes, and the one on the left read O’Fallon Family Practice.

  Neither option appealed to him. One screamed house, marriage, and kids, while the other drudged up memories he’d rather keep buried. Turning to his left, he let himself in and was instantly greeted with a subtle vanilla scent and a tiny, blonde receptionist.

  “Welcome. Are you here to see Ms. O’Fallon?” she asked with a friendly smile.

  “Yeah. I have a ten o’clock appointment. Graham Riley.”

  “Sure. Have a seat. I’ll let her know you’re here.”

  The receptionist stood behind her desk, a cherry piece of furniture that looked ornate and authentic without appearing pretentious or stuffy. The entryway and waiting area was floored with wide wooden boards and oriental rugs. He lowered himself into a soft wingback chair and crossed his ankle over his knee. The room was decorated tastefully. No frilly lace like his mom’s place. Finding out his therapist was a woman didn’t surprise him. Having the endorsement from a woman therapist would look more convincing than a man’s. Not that Graham needed to be convincing. He didn’t do anything wrong. Well, besides knock a guy on his ass for verbally abusing a woman.

  “Mr. Riley? Ms. O’Fallon can see you now.”

  Graham stood and followed the woman down a short hallway. She tapped on a large
, heavy mahogany door, then pushed it open. “You can head on in.”

  “Thank you.”

  She closed the door behind him once he stepped forward and he took in the surroundings of the office. A sitting area in the corner was comprised of a leather love seat and two wing back chairs that matched the ones in the waiting area. A familiar scent of cherry and vanilla filled the air as he turned to the right and noticed the woman coming around from behind her desk. “Maggie?”

  She stopped, her jaw dropping to her perfect chest. “Graham Riley?”

  He nodded.

  “You’re Graham Riley?”

  He nodded again.

  “Oh, God.”

  ***

  Maggie

  Maggie had never been more mortified in her entire life. And if there was ever a time to prove herself a professional, it was now.

  “I apologize for how strongly I came on to you earlier today. That was extremely unprofessional and very unlike me. Please, have a seat. However, if you wish to choose a different therapist, I completely understand.” Maggie sat in her favorite chair and pulled her pad of paper and pen onto her lap.

  Instead of being angry or embarrassed, Graham had the audacity to grin. “No ma’am. I’d like very much for you to shrink my head.”

  Blushing from cheek to root tip, Maggie dropped the paper to the floor and gasped.

  “Holy shit, that didn’t come out right. I didn’t mean it that way. Well, obviously because I didn’t do myself any favors in saying I’d shrink, when in fact I—” Graham closed his mouth and paused. “I meant no disrespect, Maggie.”

  “It’s Ms. O’Fallon.” She had to keep their relationship professional.