The Cliff House

by RaeAnne Thayne

  “Sure I do.”

  Cruz aimed his thousand-watt smile at the girl, who flushed.

  “Can we have a selfie with you?”

  “Sure. How about one with all of us?”

  Bea couldn’t avoid it as he put his arm around her and had someone from his crew take a picture of the four of them together.

  She was giving her best fake smile to the camera when she spotted a tall blond man coming through the crowd.

  Shane! He approached, along with a couple of his players and Marcus.

  The group came over to greet Cruz, who made a big deal about shaking hands with the athletes and the other coach.

  Somehow, she ended up right next to Shane.

  “I didn’t expect to see you back here,” she said.

  He didn’t look thrilled to be there.

  “Cruz specifically asked to meet a couple of our players and Marcus. He said he used to watch him when he played for the Patriots.”

  “I see.”

  She had missed him. She wanted to stand and drink in the sight of him and especially the way everything inside her seemed to sigh and relax around him.

  “Hey, Sunshine,” he said to Mari.

  She beamed at him. “Hey, Shane. I can’t wait for tomorrow. It’s going to be so fun.”

  Cruz looked up from talking to the other coach. “What’s tomorrow?”

  Mari looked uncomfortable. “It’s the Pinewood Derby, remember? You should see the car Shane and I made. It’s so cool!”

  Cruz looked from Shane to Mari. “I can’t believe I forgot to tell you, in all the last-minute craziness before the concert. I had one of my guys make us a car to race. It’s fantastic and looks just like my Lamborghini. We are going to kick butt.”

  Bea suddenly wondered if the reason Cruz invited Shane and his athletes backstage had anything to do with her. Had he expected her to accept his proposal onstage and wanted the chance to rub Shane’s face in it?

  She really hoped that wasn’t the case but suddenly wouldn’t put it past Cruz. His ego was huge these days.

  “What time is this thing tomorrow, again?” Cruz asked.

  Mari sighed. “I’m not going with you, Dad. I told you that.”

  Cruz looked around at the athletes and others nearby, none of whom were really paying much attention to the conversation. “We can talk about this later.”

  “No, Dad. We did talk about it. I invited Shane before you came back to town, when you told me you weren’t going to be here. I made a promise to him and promises are important.”

  Shane smiled down at her, and Bea’s heart threatened to burst with pride.

  “Shane is my friend,” Mari went on. “We spent a lot of time building our car. It would be rude of me to ditch him and take you with a car that I didn’t even build, someone else did. That’s not the way it works. Maybe next year you can come with me, if you can arrange your schedule.”

  Bea wanted to cry. Her daughter had more courage than she did. Mari had no problem calling out her dad for his bad behavior and sense of entitlement. If Mari had that kind of strength, didn’t Bea need to demonstrate the same?

  Cruz didn’t look nearly as proud. He looked furious. In response, he threw his arm around Bea, as if staking a claim wherever he could find it.

  “Fine. Have your fun tomorrow. Especially because you and I will be seeing a lot more of each other, when your mom and I get back together.”

  Bea froze. He hadn’t just said that, had he? Okay. It was on now. He couldn’t just make that kind of declaration in front of their daughter and Shane and everyone else here.

  Bea let out a deep breath. She wasn’t a slow learner. She could take a lesson from her daughter.

  She did not want to do this in a public venue. It was the reason she had cut things off on stage, because she hadn’t wanted to embarrass him in front of his fans. But Cruz was the one who started this. If it took a public declaration for her to get the point across, that’s what she would do.

  “Cruz,” she snapped, wriggling out from under his arm. “For the last time, we are not getting back together. Ever.”

  He looked around at the people who were now starting to pay them attention. “You’re just saying that. You’ll come around, babe.”

  “I will not come around. Look, I’ll always be grateful for the years we had together but I’m not interested in repeating them. I know you had your grand epiphany when you almost died, but I’ve had an epiphany, too. You want to know what mine told me? That I’m in love with Shane Landry and I have been for a long time.”

  Rowan and Mari gasped and looked enthralled at the drama. Bea wanted to die, but she had to go through with it. It had to be said.

  She couldn’t look at Shane and wanted to slink away into the crowd, but now at least he knew.

  She could see the hurt in Cruz’s eyes and regretted again that she hadn’t been able to convince him any other way. She didn’t want to be cruel. They did share a child, and would for the rest of their lives.

  She took Cruz’s hands in hers, gentling her tone. “You know some part of me loves you, but you have to see that those last years we had together were miserable. I was no longer the person you needed and we both knew that. But come on. You’re Cruz Romero. Half the women in the world are in love with you. You’ll find someone who can make you far happier than I ever could.”

  Cruz looked around, obviously trying to figure out how to save face. “Yeah. There are a hundred women here tonight who could do that.”

  Who could screw him, anyway, and make him happy for the moment. Bea had to hope he eventually figured out that wasn’t the answer.

  As if they had been cued to approach at exactly that moment, two beautiful blonde college-age young women came over, giggling and laughing, asking Cruz if they could have their picture taken with them.

  He gave Bea a defiant look. “Sure, girls. Let’s go somewhere a little quieter to do it.”

  “Bye, Dad,” Mari said.

  He had the grace to at least look back and give their daughter a hug. “Love you, pumpkin,” he said before he let the coeds drag him away.

  “Let’s go,” Bea said to Rowan and Mari, not ready to face Shane.

  His hand on her arm stopped her from escaping and she finally lifted her gaze to his. His blue eyes glittered in the artificial lights, with an intent, fierce expression that took her breath away.

  She sighed. “I didn’t want you to hear that, but I guess I’m glad you did. Was that clear enough for you?”

  He grinned. “Yeah. Pretty clear.”

  “We can talk about this later,” she said.

  “Now is as good a time as any.”

  She didn’t know where to start. “I...know you’ve been dating Vanessa. I don’t want to get in the way of that. But I had to be honest with Cruz, to convince him to get this crazy idea of a reconciliation out of his head.”

  He nodded slowly. “I see that. For the record, I am no longer dating Vanessa.”

  Relief and happiness flooded her. “Oh? Why is that?”

  “I wanted to make it work with her but realized after only a few dates that it wasn’t fair to lead her on when my heart belonged to someone else.” He paused and clasped her hands tightly. “When my heart has always belonged to someone else.”

  “Oh,” she whispered. It was all she could manage. In front of everyone, he lowered his mouth and kissed her softly, tenderly, so sweetly, she felt a deep ache of love for him.

  Okay. They could stay right here doing this until the crews packed up all the lights and the speakers and they were the only ones left in the entire field.

  As soon as she had the thought, she remembered her child—oh no, her daughter! She pulled out of his embrace and saw Mari and Rowan beaming at them.

  “About time,” Mari said.

  Bea
blushed at the realization that this probably wasn’t the most appropriate place and time, backstage after her ex-husband’s concert.

  “I need to get the girls back to Stella and Dr. Clayton.”

  “Yes. Let’s do that,” Shane said. After he checked to be sure his players all had rides home, he walked with her out of the roped-off area and back to the chairs where Stella and Ed were waiting, still holding hands.

  Daisy had disappeared, Bea noticed through the haze of happiness that seemed to surround her.

  Had she gone home? If she had, it hadn’t been with Gabe. She had noticed him still backstage, talking to a couple of members of Cruz’s entourage.

  As they walked, she was aware of Shane’s athletic grace beside her. Oh, how she had missed him.

  “Are you girls ready to go?” Ed asked, reminding Bea that Mari was spending the night at Rowan’s.

  “Yep. We’re going to stay up all night,” Rowan said.

  “Not all night,” Shane protested. “You’ll be too tired for the race tomorrow.”

  “Some of the night, then,” Mari amended.

  “All right. Let’s go. Stella needs to rest.”

  Stella looked between her and Shane, and Bea wondered what her aunt could see. “Bea, are you coming with us or do you have another ride?”

  “She has a ride,” Shane said immediately.

  Her stomach muscles seemed to flutter as if she’d been working on the ab machine for a few hours. “I’m good. I’ll see you first thing tomorrow at the pancake breakfast,” she told her aunt.

  After they left she and Shane walked in silence to his SUV, emotions swirling between them. She had a million things she wanted to say, but he didn’t give her the chance. The moment they reached his vehicle, he wrapped her in his arms and kissed her fiercely.

  She threw her arms around him and held on tightly, joy bursting through her in wild, colorful streaks.

  “If you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m in love with you, too,” he murmured, a long time later. “I have been since we were kids, but you only ever saw Cruz.”

  She hadn’t. She had always seen Shane, too, but Cruz had been flashier, louder.

  “I’m sorry I wasted so much time figuring out what was real.”

  “You didn’t. Everything that has come before has led us to this moment. And I wouldn’t change this moment for anything.”

  He kissed her again, with all the heat and passion and magic that had been seething between them for years, and she knew this was exactly where she belonged.

  37

  GABE

  He had no idea why he was still in Cape Sanctuary.

  He needed to take off. Right now he didn’t even have a host. Cruz had left that morning, just twelve hours after his triumphant concert. He had told Gabe he was flying to Mexico for a couple of days with some new friends.

  By new friends, Gabe assumed he meant the two blonde women who had climbed into the helicopter with him.

  Cruz had told him to stay at Casa Del Mar as long as he needed for his recovery, that his permanent staff still would be there to meet his every need. Gabe had politely thanked him for hosting him but told him he needed to be on his way. Now that he was well on the road to recovery, he itched to get back to work.

  He had been prepared to leave right after Cruz did, until he received a phone call from Stella Davenport, thanking him profusely for the donation.

  “It wasn’t me,” he had explained to Stella. “I didn’t know anything about it until Cruz handed me the giant check. Good luck carrying that into your bank, by the way.”

  She had laughed and he was heartened to hear she sounded a little less fragile than the last time he spoke with her. “Fortunately, Cruz’s people gave me a regular-size one last night, which will be much easier to fit into a deposit envelope.”

  “Good to hear.”

  She had paused. “I suppose now that Cruz is leaving, you’ll be taking off, too.”

  “That’s the plan.” He had surprisingly mixed feelings about it.

  He liked Cape Sanctuary. The town was on the touristy side but the residents had still managed to retain a small-town vibe. Everyone here had been kind and welcoming to him—with the exception of one particular secretive artist.

  And he had fallen in love here.

  He sighed, missing Daisy with a physical ache he tried to tell himself was just his knife wound making itself known.

  “You could stick around a little longer. At least stop into the Arts and Hearts on the Cape Festival today. Now that you’re such a huge donor, you ought to know some of the other things we do to raise awareness for Open Hearts.”

  He had been wanting to get a little more footage, in case he decided to film a longer promotional video for Stella to put up on her website.

  What did he have to rush off to, anyway? He was still working out details for his next project.

  And he needed to talk to Daisy.

  He hadn’t spoken with her since he stormed away from Pear Tree Cottage. He had seen her the night before at the concert and had looked for her when the music ended, but she disappeared as soon as the crowd started to disperse.

  The words he had said to her that last day haunted him. He owed her an apology for kicking her when she was down. She had been grieving the loss of Louie in her own way. He could see that now. She might not have been sobbing about it, but the pain had been there. He had been too overwhelmed with his own to look for the clues that she wasn’t as controlled as she had let on. The slight trembling of her hands, the tightness of her mouth, the sorrow she hid behind polite control.

  She had been sad over losing the dog she cared about and he had basically piled on, accusing her of not responding the way he thought she should.

  He was ashamed of himself. Somehow, he had to find a way to make it right.

  That was the real reason he was here, he acknowledged to himself, and the reason he had agreed to come back for the concert the night before when Cruz had insisted.

  He had to find Daisy and he suspected the best place to do that was the Arts & Hearts Festival.

  He walked through the crowd with his camera ready, talking to artists here and there, soaking up the atmosphere. After about an hour of wandering through the booths and stopping to listen to some of the musical offerings, Gabe started to hear buzz about something going on in the huge white tent that housed the silent art auction.

  A sort of heightened excitement seemed to sweep through the crowd, sending his instincts into alert status. Maybe a guest artist had appeared or something. But would that have people hurrying into the tent?

  He was debating whether to follow the festival-goers or use this opportunity to get something from one of the food trucks when he bumped into Beatriz Romero.

  Her pretty features lit up when she spotted him. “Gabe! How are you? I’m sorry I didn’t get the chance to speak with you last night.”

  “There was a lot going on, what with the giant check and all.”

  She made a face. “Cruz likes the grand gesture.” Her smile dimmed a little. “How is he? We sort of had...words last night.”

  That explained a great deal. Cruz had rushed out of town like he was being chased by ghosts. “He took off for some resort in Mexico this morning.”

  He decided not to mention the two young women who had been all over him. Apparently, he didn’t need to.

  “Let me guess. He had female company.”

  Gabe shifted. He really didn’t want to answer that.

  Bea laughed at his discomfort. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me. If he did, I have to admit, I would be a little relieved. That would tell me his pride wasn’t damaged beyond repair. So are you sticking around without him?”

  “Not for long. It feels too weird to stay at Casa Del Mar by myself. I’ll probably head down to the Bay Area aft
er I leave here, to stay with some friends. Stella asked me to shoot a little more footage for Open Hearts, and then I’ll be taking off.”

  He had to find Daisy first. After that he didn’t know what he would do.

  Bea gave him an intense look. “Have you gone into the auction tent yet?”

  He looked over again as more people hurried in. Everyone seemed in a big rush. “Seems pretty packed. I figured I would wait until the crowd dies down a little.”

  “That may not happen for a while. I think you’re going to want to make a stop in there.” She sent him a sidelong look. “In fact, let’s go now.”

  Daisy’s sister grabbed his arm and steered him toward the tent. “Get your camera out,” she ordered.

  Were all the women in the Davenport family this bossy? He turned on his camera and filmed some of the crowd as they went inside. It took his eyes a moment to adjust. When they did, he saw that everyone seemed interested in something at the far end of the tent.

  He heard the word Marguerite, which instantly caught his attention.

  What had Daisy done?

  “What are they looking at?” he asked Bea.

  She gave him a mischievous look. “Let’s go see.”

  Whatever it was, he was sure if Marguerite was involved, it would be remarkable. He was filled with a funny sort of pride and wished everyone could know how wonderful she was.

  After making her way through the crowd with a determination he figured was another Davenport family trait, Bea dragged him to the piece that seemed to be generating the most attention.

  It was indeed a Marguerite, an armoire, large and curvy and beautifully, intricately painted.

  “Wow,” he said, camera rolling. “You’ve got an original Marguerite in here.”

  “There are actually three. The others are a little smaller.”

  He saw them now, a graceful table similar to the one at Casa Del Mar and a little wooden jewelry box, each with her distinctive, charming style.

  Oh, Daisy.

  “Those should fetch a pretty penny for Open Hearts in the auction.”

  “You have no idea,” she said.

  It was all he could do to not tell her right that moment that her sister was the one responsible for the largesse that would soon be coming the foundation’s way.