The Best of Me

by Tina Wainscott

  She kept looking at him with a kind of compassion that went right to his gut. “You know what I think?”

  “Uh-oh, this sounds philosophical.”

  “Brace yourself—it is. I think healing these dolphins’ souls helps you heal, too. You look out for them because you didn’t have anyone to look out for you when you were a kid. Am I right?”

  He sat there for a moment, letting her words wash over him. He’d never looked at it like that. “Maybe you’re right, Miz Lucy. Maybe you’re right.”

  As long as her hand was in the water, Liberty shortened his circles to touch her more frequently. She looked mystified each time he slid by her fingers.

  “He feels sort of like an inner tube,” she said, smiling as he passed by again.

  “Yeah, a bit.”

  As she leaned forward, he caught a glimpse of a creamy curve of flesh beneath her tank top. He found himself wanting to rub up against her, but squelched the thought before his body could take note of it. She wasn’t an island girl looking for a fling. Lucy had class, and there was a lot more to her than the exterior. She was the kind of woman a man wanted to make his wife, a woman to take out to fancy restaurants and the theater and have a picture of on his desk. Yep, that’s the kind of woman she was. And he wasn’t the kind of man to give it to her.

  As though she’d somehow read his thoughts, she turned to him and said, “You want to know who Lucy Donovan is? She’s a woman who’s accomplished a lot, who has lived up to her expectations and is…happy with her life.”

  Something didn’t quite ring true with the last part of that statement, but he nodded anyway. “That’s what matters, Lucy. That you’re happy.”

  “I am. I’m really, very happy. Most people would be, you know. A beautiful apartment, successful business, loads of money and, if I look hard at myself in the mirror, I’m okay looking.” A thread of desperation slivered through her voice. “I have everything I want. And I’m young. I have a lot more to look forward to.”

  “Sure you do.”

  She shrugged. “I’m a little lonely sometimes, but that’s because I work so much. That’s what you have to do to be successful these days. And I’m fine with that, you know? I’m very happy,” she said again, nodding her head. “I couldn’t be happier.” She looked at him, and that phony smile faded before she dropped her forehead to her knees. “I’m such a liar.”

  He wasn’t sure what to say. He wanted to reach out and put his hand on her shoulder, but he stopped himself.

  She lifted her head, her forehead pink where her knees had pressed against it. “I haven’t told anyone this. I recently turned thirty. That has to be it. It’s just that I feel…” She tried to express it with her hands, twirling her fingers in front of her. “Empty. And I feel really bad for feeling that way. I have everything. People respect me.” She narrowed her eye at him. “Well, most people.”

  “I respect you.”

  “You do?”

  “Sure. You have accomplished a lot. Why do you feel empty?”

  “I wish I knew.” She dipped her fingers in the water. “I haven’t told anyone how I feel because they’d probably laugh at me. My mother would send me packing to her favorite psychiatrist of the month. Happiness is success to my parents. No one would understand.” She glanced at him. “You, least of all, so I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.”

  “I’ve been there.”

  “You have?”

  “Sure. When I was head trainer at Aquatic Wonders, I enjoyed my work and had the rapt attention of young women during every show. The money wasn’t bad, either. It still wasn’t enough.”

  She sighed, shifting her attention to Liberty. “But you had the dolphins. They were in your heart and soul.” She shook her head. “I can’t imagine giving it all up. People would think I was crazy.”

  “Ah, they did. Lucy, you’re not made to give up what you’ve worked hard for. You’re going through a phase.”

  She looked hopefully at him. “You think so?”

  He found himself reaching out before he could pull back. His fingers grazed her chin. “Sure. You turned thirty. Losing your twenties is a big shakeup for some people. You’ll find yourself a boyfriend, get married, have a family and you’ll be right back in the groove.”

  She didn’t look convinced. “The Great Green Lie.”

  “If it works for you.”

  “I’m not in any hurry to get married again. Not after Tom.”

  “What was wrong with Tom?” He found himself curious about her life. Who was Lucy? He wanted to know. Not the businesswoman, but the woman inside.

  “Oh, Tom’s perfect. Good-looking, ambitious, has it together. We met in college. We had a storybook wedding and a textbook marriage. But he resented the fact that it was my family who gave us the money to open our business.

  “And so started the competitiveness within our marriage. He worked long hours, so he expected me to. All we ever talked about was the business. I got caught up in the whole thing with him, bringing in the biggest clients, the most money. And when one of my campaigns won an industry award, he got even worse.”

  He shook his head. “I thought marriages were supposed to be partners working together, not against each other.”

  “I grew up that way, but you’re right, it shouldn’t be that way in a marriage. I wanted the romance thing. You know, like the scene in the movie, An Officer and a Gentleman when Richard Gere carries Debra Winger out of that factory? That’s what I wanted. What I got was a business partner who happened to share the same bed. And barely that. We’ve been divorced for a year now, proud of ourselves for being so polite and civilized, keeping the business going. But he’s hinting that I’m not doing my fair share. I look at him now and wonder what I ever saw in him. What my parents wanted, maybe? Who knows? I’m tired of him, tired of the snide comments, all of it.” She looked over at him. “Why am I telling you all this? Now you probably lost that little shred of respect you had for me.”

  “I think I actually respect you more. Miz Lucy, you’re a lot different than I thought you were when we first met. I don’t understand you and your world, but I respect you.”

  She gave him a wry smile. “Thanks. I think.”

  He stood, extending a hand to her. “Come on. Help me feed Liberty. Then we’ll go check the traps.”

  When she rose up next to him, he had the most irresistible urge to hold her. She was something, all right. Strong, vulnerable, compassionate and a little lost. If only untraining her was the same as untraining a dolphin.

  His fingers were still holding hers lightly, and he squeezed them. She looked up at him, her eyes full of things he couldn’t begin to comprehend. He felt that strange tightness in his chest and took a deep breath. Don’t get attached, Maddox. It ain’t worth it.

  She licked her lips, and he knew if he didn’t move away, he’d kiss her. He could almost taste her lips on his as he wrenched away. “We’d better get going,” he said, surprised at how gruff his voice was.

  Behind him, he could hear her faint voice say, “I think we almost were.”

  10

  “TELL ME ABOUT Bailey’s friend’s deal,” Chris asked as he pulled nylon bags from his duffel at The Caribe Plantation’s boathouse.

  Lucy loved the way the muscles in his arms moved, loved the way his whole body moved actually. Everything was one fluid motion made by a lean, hard body.

  “Well, his friend wants to put up some villas. Nothing fancy, more for families on budgets. He’s in the States on business, so I spoke with him on the phone. He seems like a nice guy. Not like Mr. Slick,” she said with a laugh. “He’s not offering me as much money, though. And I’ll have to hold the note, though I’ll earn interest that way. I have to give it some thought.”

  He straightened, holding a nylon bag with his equipment in it, along with the empty bags for the fish. “Ready, Jackie Cousteau?”

  Her throat tightened, but she nodded. “Ready.”

  They walked down the
boardwalk, and she eyed the dark shapes that seemed to move beneath the current in the distance. “Are you sure those things aren’t creatures over there?”

  “I told you, they’re reefs. Don’t forget, you can’t touch the coral, because they’re delicate and can die.”

  “Believe me, I don’t plan on going around touching things down there.” Except maybe him. She’d like to touch him.

  After going over underwater signals, he asked, “Sure you don’t want to chicken out?”

  “Positive. Let’s go.”

  He was already in that little swimming-trunk thing, but she wasn’t about to wander around in her bathing suit until she was ready to go into the water. She took off her shirt and shorts, feeling naked in her high-cut one-piece. She’d already bared her soul to the man; what was a little skin between them now?

  He was squinting in the sun, giving her an appreciative, low whistle. “The advertising princess has a figure.”

  “You don’t know how to give a straight-out compliment, do you? I know, you flunked chivalry,” she said when he started to respond.

  “Don’t forget it,” he said with a playful smile as he helped her adjust her mask and snorkel.

  “How can I?”

  “Ready to plunge?” he asked, putting his equipment in place.

  “Ready,” she answered in a muffled voice that echoed through the snorkel tube.

  “Stay close to me.”

  Like that would be a problem, she thought. They both did a shallow dive into the water. He even moved like a dolphin, fluid strokes using his whole body. They swam through a gateway of coral reefs that opened to the ocean beyond. Way ahead it looked dark blue and eerie as it got deeper. Luckily he turned to the left along the edge of the crust of reef separating the boathouse from the open ocean.

  His fins swished past her, sending a warm current of water washing over her face. The muscles in his legs flexed, and the tiny hairs danced in the water, making her grin for some reason. Lucy, you’re supposed to be noticing the ocean life!

  He grabbed her hand and pointed ahead where a large sea turtle scurried away from them and toward that deep blue abyss. He squeezed her hand before letting go, and even with the glass of the masks between them, she could feel the warmth of his smile.

  He pointed toward the coral and moved closer, hovering above the intricate mass of color. It was its own universe, filled with life-forms that looked alien and beautiful. He took her hand, gave her the swirl signal and down they went. A thin fish the size of a small pet swam along the bottom, and he headed toward it. It was black, covered with spots, with a tall fin pointing upward. They followed it, flanking either side until it got spooked enough to ditch them.

  “What was that?” she asked when they reached the surface.

  “A French angelfish. Check this out, but stay at the surface.”

  She watched him swim down to something buried in the sand next to the reef. He touched it, and a stingray lifted from its cloak of sand and seemed to fly away. Now she knew why he loved it down here so much. Everywhere she looked, there was something wondrous and new.

  After a while, they wended their way back to the shallow section. She’d never felt so exhilarated in her life. She pulled off her mask and slung it over her arm, yanked off her fins and planted her tired legs in the sand. Sunshine winked everywhere around her, dancing on the waves, but she was more dazzled by the man who sprang up in front of her.

  “It’s incredible down there! You’re right—it’s a lot different seeing them in their environment than in the tanks.” She didn’t know what was more important, catching her breath or telling him how wonderful the world he’d opened up to her was. “I want more.” Her eyes met his. “I want to see all of it.”

  He had the most gorgeous grin as he took her in, and she yearned to touch his chin, just once. “It’s addicting down there.”

  “You should have warned me.” He was addicting, sneaking up on her heart by doing nothing more complicated than playing the guitar for a dolphin. No, it was more than that. It was him, what lived in his heart and soul, what he lived for. “I’ll never forget this.”

  “Yes, you will. You’ll go back to your life and forget all about us.”

  She looked right into his eyes. “Never.”

  His hands came up to brace her cheeks, and his thumbs rubbed over two spots on either side of her mouth.

  “Please don’t tell me I have seaweed sticking to my cheeks,” she said.

  He studied the two spots. “You know, you’ve got the sweetest dimples I’ve ever seen.”

  “I don’t have dimples. Maybe they’re wrinkles.”

  He shook his head. “Nope, they’re dimples. Not very deep, and they only show when you really smile like you were doing. Or when you watch Liberty.”

  “I have dimples?”

  “Yep.”

  He held her face, looking into her eyes and taking her breath away all over again. Her smile faded away to something bare and naked inside her, a question, a yearning. He pulled her closer and gently kissed one supposed dimple, then the other. Now she really couldn’t breathe. And then he touched his wet lips to hers.

  A sound rumbled deep in her throat, something she’d never heard before. She closed her eyes and savored the feel of his mouth moving over hers, tasted the salt as her mouth opened to his. Warmth rushed from the tips of her toes to her cheeks. Her feet were sinking in the sand. A slight breeze washed over her wet skin, but nothing could cool the fire burning within her.

  His hands left her cheeks to pull her flush against his body. He wanted her, and his body had no qualms about letting her know. The tightness in her chest spread to her outer limbs. She wanted him, too. Gracious, she wanted him. Her hands went to his shoulders, sliding into the damp curls at his neck. His tongue made liquid love to hers, moving against hers in slow, rolling motions that coincided with the incoming waves.

  She didn’t want this to end yet. She didn’t want to leave tomorrow. Six nights wasn’t enough. Six years wasn’t enough. What was she thinking? No, don’t think, Lucy. Just feel. For once in your life, feel.

  Chris let out a long sigh and finished the kiss. He looked at her for a moment, then pulled her close again and rested his chin on top of her head. The fingers of one hand trailed up and down her back while the other held her against his chest.

  “Tell me about your life in St. Paul, Lucy,” he said at last, resignation in his voice.

  She looked up at him, finding something hazy in his green eyes. “My life in St. Paul?”

  He leaned down and kissed her again, drawing her far, far from St. Paul. Keeping his mouth close to hers, he murmured, “Tell me about your day. What you do, how you come up with ideas.”

  When she tried to meet his eyes to see what he was thinking, she saw that they were closed. “Why do you want to know all that…now?”

  He kissed her again, afterward remaining nose against nose, forehead against forehead. “Because I want to remember that you’re going back tomorrow, that you belong somewhere else.”

  She drew in a breath, which he cut off by kissing her again. She wanted to forget about tomorrow, about belonging anywhere else but here in his arms. This wasn’t supposed to hurt, but oh, it did. Deep inside it started, spreading from her heart to taint every part of her.

  “I can’t think of anything,” she whispered, moving slightly to kiss him again.

  “Then make something up.” Another kiss, and the sound of his breath coming faster.

  “Maybe I could extend my stay a few days,” she said, but shook her head as reality set in. “No, damn it, I can’t. I’ve got so many meetings set up this week.” Meetings, the office, everything seemed so unreal to her now. This was real, this place, this man. She looked up at him, and he opened his eyes. “I want to stay.”

  He tipped her chin up. “But you can’t. And you shouldn’t. You’ve got a business to run. That’s your life.” He glanced around. “This is an interlude, something to take your m
ind off the world for a while. When you get back, you’ll be so wrapped up in your life, this will seem like a dream. You’ll be sitting at your desk and think of some incident. You’ll smile at the memory, and then you’ll wonder if it was a memory. Did all this actually happen? Maybe, and maybe not.”

  “I’m not going to forget.”

  His smile was tinged with the cynicism she knew too well. “Everything fades into the quilt work of yesterday. We can’t hold on forever.” He reached out and touched her cheek, and she leaned into his palm. “Miz Lucy, I’m relieved to know that there is still some good in the world.” His thumb rubbed over her lower lip. “You are quite a lady.”

  His words swirled inside her, quelling the ache a little. “Coming from you, I take that as a big compliment, being good and all.” But was she good? Had she done anything important in her life? Something that mattered to someone other than herself? She didn’t share her doubts, relishing his praise and not wanting to make him question it.

  He widened his eyes. “Do you know what we forgot to do?”

  “Check the traps for fish,” they both said simultaneously.

  They traded a sheepish look, and she laughed. “Oops. I got so caught up in the sea life, I forgot.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “And I got so caught up in the rare St. Paul mermaid, I forgot, too. Come on, let’s get Liberty’s dinner. And maybe something for us.”

  She had never had such a wonderful time. And she had never felt about a man the way she felt about Chris. She let out a long sigh and, grabbing up her fins, followed him to shore.

  How could she have let this happen?

  11

  BACK AT THE PARK, Lucy went to the restroom while Chris put the fish in the big cooler. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, tilting her head and smiling. No dimples, just as she’d thought. Maybe he was making it up. She tried to think about what they’d been doing when he’d remarked upon them. She’d been telling him she would never forget him or Liberty. Warmth spread over her, and she watched the amazing appearance of…dimples. Didn’t she ever smile like this? Her eyes sparkled with a dreamy quality, and for that moment she looked quite beautiful. She stopped smiling. She wasn’t supposed to look that happy, not with Chris.