by SJ McCoy
“I know. And I’m not trying to be an asshole. I’m really not.”
She chuckled. “It just comes naturally when you think about your mom having a life of her own?”
“That’s not fair. I want you to have a life of your own. I just want it to be a happy one. And I want to know that if a guy is going to be part of it that he’s a good guy.”
“Well, I can assure you that Seymour is a very good guy. I think you’ll like him. And if you don’t want to take my word for it, ask Chance. The two of them have grown very close.”
Jack sighed. “I already have asked Chance—and everyone else who knows him even a little bit. He had dinner with Pete’s parents the other night.”
“And have you heard anything that makes you wary of him?” Chris already knew the answer to that.
“No. By all accounts, he’s a great guy.”
“Well, then. What are you so worried about?”
“You!”
She laughed. “You’re a very smart, very logical man, Jack. Except when it comes to me. I love that you want to protect me. But don’t you think you’re being just a teeny bit ridiculous?”
He scowled at her for a long moment, but she just smiled back at him. Eventually, his scowl faded, and they both ended up laughing. “I don’t think I’m being a teeny bit ridiculous. I know I’m being full-on ridiculous. But I can’t help it, Mom. When I think about someone hurting you, I lose it. I forget that I’m supposed to be smart and logical and I go all caveman.”
“I know, sweetheart. And I love that you care about me. But it makes me sad, too.”
“I’m sorry. I’d never want to—”
She held up her hand to stop him. “I don’t mean that you make me sad by being so overprotective. I’m sad because I know what made you that way.”
She could see the telltale pulse in his jaw. “I know we don’t talk about it, but maybe one day we should?”
“No. There’s no need.”
“Okay. If you don’t want to, we won’t. But I do need to say that I’m sorry. I’m sorry your childhood wasn’t what it could have been.”
He held her gaze for a long moment. “It wasn’t your fault. You did everything you could to make it better for us.”
“True. But I couldn’t do enough. You grew up too fast and tried to put yourself in charge of taking care of Dan and me. You should never have had to do that. I didn’t want that for you.”
He blew out a sigh. “It’s okay, Mom. I wouldn’t change … that’s not true. I’d change a lot of it if I could. But I can’t. So, instead, I choose to take what I can from it all. I wouldn’t be who I am today if he hadn’t been who he was.”
Chris nodded sadly. “That’s true. I just wish I could have protected you more.”
Jack smiled. “And yet you’re still complaining about me trying to protect you now?”
“I’ve never complained.”
“Not in so many words, maybe.”
“So, what do you want, Jack? You want me to not see anyone, so you don’t have to worry about me?”
“Hell, no! I want you to be happy, Mom. You deserve that more than anyone I know. I just know you. You think you can keep it light and keep it fun, and when you say that, guys hear something else. I don’t want to see anyone take advantage of you. I won’t let them.”
She laughed. “And you think I would? I’m not stupid, Jack. And I’m sure as hell not naïve.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I should shut up and butt out. I mean, it’s Seymour Davenport. How long is he even here for? It can’t be for long. If you want to see him while he’s here, you go ahead.”
“I will, thank you very much. And he’s here for ten days.” She couldn’t resist adding, “Though he’s already talking about what we might do after that.”
“He is?”
“Yes.”
“When can I meet him?”
“We’ve been on one date, Jack.”
“And when are you seeing him again?”
“This afternoon, and no, you can’t come and meet him.”
He smiled. “That’s okay. I need to get back to work anyway. But if you’re going to keep seeing him after he leaves town, I want you to introduce me to him before he goes.”
“And if I don’t?” She arched an eyebrow at him in a challenge, but he took the wind out of her sails with his reply.
“Then I’ll know that what I think doesn’t matter to you, and I’ll accept that.”
“Aww, Jacky.” She reached across the table and squeezed his arm. “You know that’s not true.”
He gave her a wicked grin. “I sure do, but I got you, didn’t I? And now I know that I’ll get to meet him.”
“Only if I’m going to keep seeing him.”
“And we both already know that you are.”
~ ~ ~
Seymour brought the SUV to a stop outside Chris’s house and cut the engine. He’d forgotten how much he enjoyed driving. It wasn’t far from the resort up here, but it was as far as he’d driven in months.
He reached over to the passenger seat and picked up the flowers he’d bought in town and the little bag he’d brought from the cabin. He checked himself out in the rearview mirror and then chuckled. He was like a kid—excited to be driving by himself and nervous about his date.
He got out and locked the door before making his way up the path to Chris’s front door and ringing the bell.
She opened it with a smile. “Hey. You’re early.”
It took him a moment to make his voice work. She looked beautiful. There were dozens of beautiful women in his everyday life; women who worked for him, the wives of his colleagues—and their friends. They always seemed to bring along a friend—a beautiful, single, available friend. They never managed to capture his interest. He could appreciate the beauty, but he rarely felt any attraction, and certainly no connection. They didn’t make him feel anything at all—except, usually, bored after the first ten minutes of inane conversation. Chris was different from them; just standing there on her doorstep, wearing blue jeans, a multicolored shirt, and a smile, she made him feel. He felt the attraction, he felt the connection, and even more than that, she made him feel … his mind searched for the word and then shut down when he found it. She made him feel hope. He and Kate had named their daughter Hope for a reason.
“Hey,” he answered. “I’m sorry. I …”
She waved a hand at him. “No sorries. I told you, I’m the same. It’s nice to know that I can expect you early. Usually, the only person I make plans with is my sister, and she’s always late. Come on in.”
He followed her through to the kitchen. He liked her house. It was small, but it was bright and neat. It had a good feel to the place—it felt like Chris.
He held out the flowers, feeling foolish. He should have given them to her straight away. “I brought you these.”
She took them with a smile. “Thank you. I was starting to wonder if you were going to just carry them around with you as a prop.”
It took him a moment, but then he laughed. “You’re not going to cut me any slack, are you?”
“I can if you need it …?” She raised an eyebrow.
“No. I don’t. I’m a bit rusty at this whole thing.”
She took the flowers and pulled a vase from a cabinet. “You don’t date much?” she asked as she filled the vase with water.
He let his gaze rest on her backside as she bent to get the vase and then busied herself at the sink. “I haven’t. Not much.” Did he want to tell her that it had been a couple of years since he’d been on a date—or that even then it had only been to appease an old friend? He’d dated some over the years since Kate died, but he hadn’t been able to make himself care. He’d just gone through the motions. A couple of the women had developed feelings for him—or, at least, they’d claimed to. He’d found it hard to believe since he’d felt nothing in return. After that pattern had repeated itself a few times, he’d stopped making himself even try. “Do you?” He
wasn’t sure if he should ask—wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer. She talked about keeping this light and fun. Maybe it was a form of entertainment to her—a way to pass an evening here and there that held no meaning for her.
She turned to face him and leaned back against the sink. “I’ve dated some. A couple of guys since I’ve been here at the lake.”
“How long have you been here?” he asked too quickly; he knew it.
She laughed. “I’ve been here a few years now. It’s hard to believe that the time’s gone by so fast. Don’t worry; I’m not some man-eater. But I am a social creature.”
He nodded. “I don’t mean to pry. It’s none of my business.”
“It’s not prying. I don’t mind telling you. We’re getting to know each other here, right? These are the kinds of things we need to know if we’re going to be friends.”
Friends. Was that how she was seeing this? Was she making a new friend? Would he be okay with that if she were? He would. He could see her being a good friend—except for one small detail: he wanted her to be more than that.
She raised an eyebrow at him. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No. Forgive me. I’m overthinking here.”
“Want to share?”
He shook his head. “Probably not. I think it’s better to go with your philosophy of just seeing where this goes and having fun. I could derail us by wanting to talk and ask questions and figure things out. But perhaps none of it will matter, so we’re better off just enjoying our time. Do you want to go straight to the beach?”
“Sure.” For a moment, he wondered if she wanted to talk more, but she smiled. “Let me get my purse and we’ll go.”
She gave him a puzzled look when he opened the car door for her. “No Ivan today?”
He smiled. “No. You gave me a wake-up call last night. I sent him a message this morning and told him to take the day off. I even got the car rental place to drop a car off outside his cabin so he can go and explore if he wants to.”
He went around to the driver’s side and was surprised when he buckled himself in, and she leaned over and pecked his cheek. “That was sweet of you. I’m sure he’ll appreciate that.”
He did. Seymour had felt bad. He’d admitted to Chris last night that he wore blinders when it came to his work. He hadn’t realized that those blinders were narrowing down Ivan’s options in life just as much as his own. He didn’t want to do that to the kid and planned to treat him better in the future.
Chapter Six
When they reached the beach, Seymour slung his arm around Chris’s shoulders as they walked down to the water. She smiled up at him, happy to see him relaxed.
“When was the last time you walked on a beach?” she asked.
“Last night.”
She laughed. “I mean before that.”
“Not for a long time.”
“I thought as much. Though to be fair, there aren’t many beaches in Montana.”
“No.”
“That’s where you live, isn’t it?”
He shrugged. “I spend a lot of time there now. Since Hope moved there and got married.”
“And the rest of the time?” Now that she thought about it, he mustn’t spend all his time in Montana. She didn’t know much about the stock market, but she figured he’d need to be in New York sometimes or wherever else that kind of business took place.
“I move around a lot. I suppose the house in Malibu is the one I’ve thought of as home the most.”
“And you don’t walk on the beach there?”
“No.” He smiled. “I don’t make the time to do things like that. I do spend time staring out the window at the ocean sometimes—if that counts for anything.”
“It gives me some hope for you. Though I have to say, it seems like a waste to me. Why would you live there if you don’t make the most of the beach?”
He shrugged again. “It’s beautiful. It’s …”
She could tell he was really thinking about the question, as if it had never occurred to him before. After a few moments, he looked down at her. “I don’t know how this is going to sound to you. I don’t think I’ve ever considered it before, but I live there because … well, because it’s a suitable address for someone like me.”
She laughed. “You mean it’s where the rich people live?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I do. I haven’t thought of it that way until now, but that’s the reason.”
“Why do you look like that? I think it’s perfectly normal. We all tend to go where our people are—where we feel comfortable. I live here because my kids are here.”
“I know, but it’s just dawning on me that since I left Montana—since Kate died—I’ve lived in places that seemed suitable. Not because I wanted to, just because I had to go somewhere.”
Chris thought she understood. “Believe me, if I could have left Texas under my own steam, I would have. I would have gone anywhere.”
He nodded, looking lost in his thoughts.
“But now you’re back in Montana when you can be.” She smiled, hoping to make him do the same. “You want to be near Hope and Chance and little Dylan.
“That’s right.”
“And what about your work—can you do that from anywhere?”
“Mostly.”
Chris looked up at him, wondering if she’d lost him to whatever thoughts or memories were plaguing him. “You know, I only started this because I couldn’t believe that you live by such a wonderful beach and don’t make the time to walk on it. I’m sorry if I brought up things you don’t want to talk about.”
He stopped walking and looked down into her eyes. “I’m sorry. You do make me question myself, but I see that as a good thing. I just need to learn to save my questions for later and think about them on my own time—not spoil our time.”
“You’re not spoiling anything.”
His eyes twinkled as he smiled. “I’m not exactly being much fun, am I?”
She couldn’t resist reaching up to peck his lips. “You’re being real with me … that’s more important.”
He closed his arms around her waist and kissed her before resting his chin on top of her head. “I told you that you’d keep me on my toes. Having fun and being real is new territory for me.”
She rested her cheek against his chest. “I don’t think they’re new; it’s just a while since you’ve visited them. It might do you good.”
“You’re good for me.”
She closed her eyes and just enjoyed the feel of him. He was good for her, too, but she didn’t need to tell him so.
~ ~ ~
Seymour tightened his arms around her, wondering if he should have said that. She was good for him, but maybe saying so would only confirm her suggestion that she could be a catalyst for him. That wasn’t what he wanted. Perhaps he was thinking too literally, but to his mind, a catalyst got used up in the process of transforming something else. He didn’t want to use her and leave her behind when he left. That thought made him smile.
He took hold of her shoulders and leaned back to look into her eyes. “Since you’re so keen for me to walk on the beach, why don’t you come with me?”
She cocked her head to one side. “I thought that’s what we’re doing.” She looked around. “This is a beach. Here we are.” She smiled. “We might not be walking right now, but …”
He laughed. “I mean on the beach by the ocean … in Malibu. Come visit me when I go back?”
Her smile faded. “I thought we were playing this by ear. Taking one day at time?”
“We are. But I already know that I’ll want to see you again after next weekend.” He took a gamble. He didn’t think there was much risk, but he needed to know. “Are you telling me you don’t feel the same?”
She pursed her lips and thought about it for a moment. “I already told you, I don’t play games. Yes, I’d like to keep seeing you after you leave.”
He dropped a kiss on her lips and took hold of her hand and star
ted walking again. “Good. Then you should come to Malibu.”
“Okay, I will.”
After their walk, Seymour drove back to the resort. He was glad that he’d given Ivan the day off. For one thing, the kid deserved a break. For another, he was enjoying this time alone with Chris. It wouldn’t be the same if Ivan were chauffeuring them around.
He looked over at her. “Do you want to get a drink?”
“Sure. As long as you’re prepared to bump into everyone I know—and no doubt face an inquisition.”
He chuckled. “I can handle it if you can? Hope told me that we’re the source of a thousand rumors already. You’re the one who lives here and has to face the gossip.”
“It doesn’t bother me in the slightest.” She winked at him. “I don’t mind being talked about as the one who managed to snag herself a sexy out-of-towner.”
He found an empty spot at the far end of the square and cut the engine before turning and reaching over to squeeze her hand. “Well, I don’t mind being talked about as the out-of-towner who managed to get himself a date with Summer Lake’s most beautiful woman.”
She laughed. “Flattery will get you a long way with me—but not everywhere. There are a lot of beautiful women around here. I wouldn’t claim to be the most beautiful. Not even close.”
He squeezed her hand. “It doesn’t matter what you claim or what you believe. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. And this beholder is telling you, you’re beautiful, Chris.”
He leaned toward her, hoping she understood that he meant it. They weren’t just words. She was beautiful, inside and out.
She held his gaze as she came closer, resting her arms on the center console. He cupped her cheek in his palm and stopped when their lips were no more than an inch apart. “Beautiful,” he murmured, before closing the final gap.
Just like when he’d kissed her last night, he moved in, intending something slow and gentle but was taken over by a deep desire for her. He ran his tongue over her bottom lip and drew a little sigh from her that lit a fire in his blood. He sank his fingers in her hair, and her hands came up to cup his face as she kissed him back.
