Why had he said that? Because he wanted her to think she was having delusions? Had he been the one who’d whispered things to scare her, after all? But why?
Josiah just shook his head, looking impossibly weary.
Yasmin gave her brother a quick hug and then sat down in one of the classroom’s chairs, feeling like she had been through one hundred emotions today. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, Joe,” she said. “Miss Vi, can he have the rest of the day off?”
Miss Vi frowned. “He might be better served by staying here, keeping busy,” she said. “Besides, I need his help with a computer problem I’m having. Josiah, you can leave if you really want to, but I’d appreciate it if you would stay for the rest of the day.”
Josiah looked at Miss Vi as if she were holding out a lifeline. “I’ll stay.”
“Come on, then. We have work to do.” She gestured for him to follow and walked out of the room like a queen.
Josiah didn’t look to the right or the left. He just followed.
That left Yasmin in the room with Liam, and even though she wanted to keep any connection between Josiah and the murder away from him, she was still relieved that he was here. She propped her cheek on her fist and blew out a breath. “Wow.”
The next moment, she felt warm hands on her shoulders, gently kneading. “You did a good job speaking up for your brother, but you’re really tense,” Liam said, his voice a low rumble. “You need to relax.”
They were big hands, strong hands. And she remembered from their time together how extremely competent his hands were, how they seemed to search out the aching muscle or the knot in her back.
His touch felt like heaven, but she needed to keep herself grounded, so she forced out a laugh. “I don’t think I know the meaning of the word relax,” she said. She was waiting for him to question her about Josiah and any connection there might be with the murder, but to her surprise, he didn’t mention it. Instead, he massaged her shoulders for a couple of more blissful moments, and then put his hands on the sides of her upper arms, gently lifting. “Come on,” he said. “It’s lunchtime. Let’s grab sandwiches and take them to the beach and forget about all our cares for a bit.”
“You’re serious.” She stood, and his hands were still on her upper arms as he stood behind her. When she turned, she was close enough to smell his slightly musky cologne, and her senses seemed to pull her closer to him as if he were a magnet.
His gaze dropped to her lips. “On second thought, we could just stay here and make out in front of everybody in the library,” he said. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, but his hands had tightened on her arms and his eyes had darkened. “You know I’d like nothing better. Even though it might ruin my reputation.”
That made her laugh, because she knew he was really more worried about her reputation, and that neither of them could afford to get caught kissing in the library.
“The beach would be nice, but I think you’d be pretty hot in your uniform, and I need to get back to work, too. But... I’ll take a rain check.”
He didn’t let go of her. “After work tonight?” His gaze was intense.
She shouldn’t. She knew she shouldn’t, but her whole heart cried out for this man. “Sure,” she agreed, her insides doing cartwheels, even as her mind wondered how she could justify it. She was pretty sure it was a huge mistake.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
AT LUNCHTIME ON WEDNESDAY, Rita walked with Jimmy toward La Florentine, an elegant tourist restaurant right on the water. It was their first really fancy date.
She should have been happy, but instead, her insides churned.
“I’m so glad you got things figured out with your sons,” he said, taking her hand and squeezing it. “This date has been a long time coming, but you’re worth waiting for.”
No, I’m not. She smiled over at him and discreetly pulled her hand away.
It didn’t deter him. He put an arm around her. “I feel really lucky that you walked into the café when you did. I’d given up hope of finding someone I could respect and care for in my golden years.”
His arm felt warm and strong, strong enough to support her, and a part of her longed to just sag into him, relax and let the relationship flow. But her heart told her otherwise. She wasn’t ready.
“I don’t feel exactly the same,” she said, easing away from his arm.
“What?” He looked over at her, his smile fading just a little.
“It’s just... I don’t feel all fixed, you know? There’s still a gap of twenty years. There’s still this huge chunk of my life that’s lost to me.”
“But you know who you are now. You have your sons.”
“I have Sean,” she corrected. “Cash, we talked by phone and it was just...meh. He didn’t really react. And Liam’s actively angry about the whole thing.”
“Even when your story checked out?”
She nodded. “He believes I’m his mom now, but like he said, I didn’t...” Her voice caught and she took a breath to steady it. “I didn’t raise them or protect them or take care of them. I didn’t do any of the things a mother is supposed to do.”
“And you don’t remember anything, so you can’t defend yourself.”
“It’s indefensible!” Her throat tightened again. The breeze off the sea couldn’t cool her warm face.
“You’re looking at this all wrong,” he said. “Taking the blame for something that isn’t your fault. The O’Dwyer boys—men, you have to remember they’re men—will come around.”
She wanted to believe him, to believe that she could just move forward in a carefree way. But the pinched, hurt look that had been on Liam’s face haunted her. “Look, maybe this date isn’t a good idea.”
“Rita.” Jimmy walked forward more slowly now, at her side, no longer trying to touch her. “I’ve been patient.”
“You have been. And you were a huge help the other night. You didn’t judge me, and you helped me tell Liam and Sean the truth.”
“Right. And now, I want you to build a life here. Be a grandma to Sean’s kids. Be friends with Norma and Claire and Yasmin.” He paused. “Do things with me, have some fun together, see what grows.”
“It’s not that easy.” They were almost to the boardwalk now, walking past the shopfronts where tourists and townspeople strolled the sidewalks and went in and out of the shops.
He put a hand on her arm to stop her from walking into the more crowded area. “It’s not that complicated, either. Women overthink things.”
She swallowed the giant lump in her throat. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be whole. All carefree and ready to jump into a relationship.”
He threw up his hands. “It’s been months, Rita. I can’t wait forever. We can’t wait forever. We don’t have all the time in the world.” He drew in a slow breath, let it out. “Look, I’m in my fourth quarter. I want to make it as good as I can, and I finally feel ready to move on after my divorce. I’d really like to do that with you, but if you can’t...”
“If I can’t do it on your schedule?”
He held up a hand. “No. Uh-uh. It’s been all on your schedule, and that’s fine, but there’s a limit.”
“I understand that,” she said reluctantly. He had been more than patient, and it was no wonder he couldn’t do that forever. Most men wouldn’t have waited as long as Jimmy had.
Her chest ached, but she couldn’t, wouldn’t, submerge who she was and how she felt. Not after everything she’d been through. “I guess, then, it’s not going to work.”
He put his hands on her shoulders and looked directly into her eyes. “For real? You’re going to turn your back on everything we could have?”
“It’s not fair to you to keep stringing you along,” she said. “Honestly, I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready, ever be healed. And I’m too old to just cave in and fake it.”
> Their eyes stayed connected for a long moment, until Rita felt her own start to well up with tears.
He must have noticed it—how could he not? “Aw, Rita,” he said, and pulled her into his arms, not too close, just a friendly hug. “Come on. This lunch date’s a bust, but I have one more idea.” He tugged her arm to get her to turn a corner, away from the boardwalk. Then he walked beside her down a residential street as she tried to get herself together. He was such a good man, and she cared for him more and more. But this barrier, this feeling of worthlessness, wouldn’t let her be free and wholehearted with him.
“Here we are.” They were standing in front of the Safe Haven Women’s Center.
“Why’d you bring me here? I don’t have a volunteer shift today,” she protested.
“I’m bringing you here as a client. You were abused, and you’re not recovering from it. So maybe you should take advantage of all the counseling and support groups they offer.”
“I don’t need—”
“You need something. Maybe they can help you.” He paused, then added, “I can’t.” And then he backed away.
Wait, she wanted to cry. I can do it, I can fake it to keep you.
She could, but she wouldn’t. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, Jimmy,” she choked out.
He wasn’t facing her, he was half turned away, but she could see his eyes squeeze shut. He nodded.
Then he walked away.
She watched him, her chest aching, her throat impossibly tight. What was wrong with her? Was everything wrong with her, like her son Liam thought? She wrapped her arms around her middle, hunched over, trying to hold herself together.
A car pulled up to the curb, and a woman got out and stood staring at the women’s center. Through tears, Rita recognized the woman who’d been at the festival with Buck.
She should greet her, offer to help, but she didn’t have it in her. She stood, swallowing hard, trying not to lose it.
She was relieved when, finally, the center’s door opened and Yasmin came out. Yasmin could help the woman.
“Rita?” Yasmin took a few more steps and reached Rita’s side.
“Hey,” Rita choked out.
“Are you okay? You’re not okay.” Yasmin took her by the hand.
“There’s someone who needs help, a client.” Rita turned to gesture toward the woman she’d just seen.
But both she and her car were gone. So was the slight distraction the woman had provided, and Rita felt her face start to crumple.
“Hey. What’s wrong?” Yasmin drew her into a hug.
At which point Rita let her emotions go, and Yasmin pulled her inside the cool, welcoming women’s center.
* * *
LIAM PUSHED THE rest of the elegant chocolate dessert over to Yasmin. “Here. You finish it.”
Not that the dessert wasn’t delicious. But watching Yasmin savor it was even more enjoyable. She took small, delicate bites, and closed her eyes with each one, and smiled.
And Liam was a goner. He wanted to make her smile like that for the rest of his life.
She opened her eyes and caught him looking. “I really shouldn’t. You eat the rest.”
“Why?” he asked, although he knew what her reason was going to be. Women. They had the strangest ideas.
Right on schedule, she said, “It’ll ruin my diet. This dress was a little tight.”
He outright laughed. “Are you kidding me? It fits you perfectly. And you look perfect.” He meant it. Yasmin was a real woman with curves, and he liked her that way.
As a matter of fact, he liked almost everything about Yasmin. Her concern for others that led her to work so hard at the women’s center and help her brother and Rocky, too. Her brains—any conversation with her made him want to go read up on whatever they’d been talking about. And the sparkle in her eyes that hinted at her fun, witty, sensual side.
She was an amazing woman and he’d think later about what that might mean, but for now, he just knew she needed a break. So when she’d finished the last forkful of chocolate decadence cake and he’d taken care of the check, he took her hand and tugged her toward the restaurant’s back doorway that led onto the boardwalk. “Let’s take a walk,” he said. “It’s only nine thirty. Way too early to go home.”
She glanced down at her shoes—high-heeled, strappy sandals—and then shrugged and held on to his arm while she slipped off first one, then the other. “What about you?” she teased. “Those shoes look more like Cash’s style. Not made for salt water and sand.”
“Cash made me buy them, and you’re right.” He sat on the edge of the boardwalk to take them off, and his socks, and roll up his pant legs. “Think we can leave our shoes here?”
“It’s Safe Haven,” she said. “I heard the police force is really great.”
He grinned at the comment and held out his hand for her to take.
They walked down to the water. The days were getting a little shorter now, and the moon had risen in the deepening twilight, making a silvery path on the water. A light breeze blew the humidity out of the air. And Yasmin’s hand in his felt better than anything he’d felt in a long time.
“Can we start over?” he asked, then wished he hadn’t been so abrupt. She looked up at him quickly, then just as quickly, looked out to sea.
“I don’t... I don’t know if we can,” she said. “I...” She trailed off, biting her lip. “There’s a part of me that wants to, a big part, but I just don’t think it’ll work.”
He waited, but she didn’t continue speaking. Didn’t tell him the reason for her hesitation, that barrier that was always there with her. He’d thought he’d breached it, tonight, but he’d obviously been wrong.
Pain cut through him, because despite their improved relationship, she still didn’t want what he wanted. She’d go on a date, but not get serious with him, not try to make it last.
Grow up, he told himself. She’s entitled to want whomever she wants. “Is it Buck?” he asked, and then wished he hadn’t.
“Liam!” She stopped walking and spun to face him, hands on hips. “For the last time, I have zero interest in Buck Mulligan, okay? It’s not that. Even when it was that, it wasn’t.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sounded like some complicated female justification that wouldn’t hold water with men, whose minds were simpler.
“Look, come on. Let’s walk.” This time she took his hand and the lead, pulling him along.
The sand was still warm from the day’s sun, and the waves made a rhythmic backdrop, but for all that, Liam wasn’t at ease. Was she going to feed him a line?
He’d felt so close to her tonight. And it wasn’t just tonight. Their weeks of living so close together, of working with Rocky, of sharing their lives, had given their friendship a depth and richness it hadn’t had before.
All that would be destroyed if she tried to fake him out and let him down easy now. “Just be honest with me, Yas. Whatever it is, be honest.”
She gave him a sideways glance. “Are you ready for this? Because I want to be honest. And I want to be happy, but it’s...a complicated story.”
“I can handle it,” he said, even while he wondered if he could.
“Okay. First, Buck,” she said. “Liam, I knew if I told you the real reason I wanted to break up, you’d never have let me do it. The only thing that would work with a guy like you was another guy.”
He winced, because it was true. He’d have argued hard against anything but that. “So you didn’t care for Buck?”
She shook her head, a little rueful smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Can you even imagine our conversations? We have nothing in common.”
“Sometimes conversation isn’t what a guy like Buck is after.” He kicked at the sand.
“Right. And when he found out he couldn’t get what he w
as really after from me, he lost interest. But by that time, you’d already gotten furious and cut me off.” She sighed. “Mission accomplished, and faster than I could have dreamed.”
Something twisted hard at his stomach then. He didn’t like the pain he was hearing in her voice. Had he caused it? “Sounds like you didn’t want me to take your bait so quickly.”
“I didn’t, but I did.”
“Why?”
She drew a toe through the sand, face downcast. “Because... I knew how much you wanted kids.”
He studied her, then touched her chin. “Hey. What does that have to do with anything?”
Her chin trembled. “Schizophrenia has...it has a genetic element,” she said, her voice breaking.
“But you don’t have schizophrenia.”
“Yet.” She swiped her knuckles under her eyes. “It starts later in women.”
Understanding broke over him, a wave of it. “That’s why that intruder was able to scare you so bad.”
She nodded, swallowing hard, obviously trying to keep it together. “Right,” she said. Then she paused, rubbing the heel of her hand over her chest, and looked out to sea. “And even if I don’t get it, I could pass it along to kids. Liam, it’s a horrible illness. Josiah is managing pretty well, but it’s been such a struggle for him. I don’t want to have kids who might carry the gene for it.”
She still wasn’t looking at him, which gave him a chance to process what she’d said.
She didn’t want to have kids. Or rather, judging from the sadness in her voice and posture, she wanted to, but she’d decided against it.
It gave him pause. One of the things he’d wanted to do was have kids with Yasmin; it had been behind all the homemaking activities they’d done together. Starting a family, raising them together.
But there were other ways. He tested the notion of adoption and found he didn’t dislike the idea. “I wish you’d told me the whole truth,” he said. “If you couldn’t have kids, we could have adopted. I mean, I wasn’t raised by my biological parents. I was raised in the system, and there are still a lot of kids there who need homes.”
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