Then her chin tilted slightly, and her lips parted as if in a question. Her eyes smiled before her mouth did. Actually, those eyes of hers were dancing and she appeared to be watching something over his shoulder.
“Sir?” Beau turned to find a waiter standing by his side, something large and plastic in his outstretched arms. A bib. The waiter was holding a bib. “For you, sir.” He proceeded to lean around Beau and tie the monstrosity around his neck.
Liddy placed both of her hands on the table and leaned forward, the laughter in her face taunting him. He put on his best winning smile, but he could feel the heat of redness stretching all the way to his ears. The trouble with light skin. Who was he kidding? This moment would have made anyone turn red.
The waiter left and Beau sat back, cognizant of the sound of thin strips of plastic rubbing together with every move he made. Liddy, for her part, hadn’t stopped laughing.
“You really have been here before,” she said, cracking herself up.
“Meaning?”
“Um …”—she pointed to his bib—“obviously, they know you’re sloppy.”
Beau shook his head, laughing back at her. He didn’t dare look around to any of the other white-clothed tables. Hopefully, they weren’t drawing attention. “You’re kidding, I hope. It’s for the bouillabaisse I ordered.” He felt almost certain that this was the case. The waiter hadn’t exactly said.
She shrugged, that laughter lingering on her full lips. “Sure. For the seafood soup. Whatever.”
“You’re too much.”
“If it helps—it’s really hot. The bib, I mean. It’s a hot … bib.”
Beau rolled his eyes and groaned just in time for the server to appear with her prawns and his bouillabaisse. What a tease. He found himself cracking up, too, though—while also making a mental note to avoid all foods that required bibs on future dates.
After dinner, Beau drove Liddy back to her apartment, their conversation never stopping to refuel. Their banter was unabashed and easy, and to his mind, he and Liddy were quickly moving from tentative to what time should I pick you up tomorrow? The thought awed him in myriad ways—both thrilling and frightening. Perhaps it was time to slow things down.
Once inside, Liddy kept her hat on but kicked off her shoes. He willed himself to avoid looking at the line of buttons running down the center of her dress, and at the way the silky black fabric hugged her body.
She padded over to the kitchen. “Can I get you some water?”
Beau told her no and slipped out of his coat to hang it over the back of one of the chairs around her dining table. He watched as she stepped over to the fireplace in her bare feet, and flipped a switch.
Voilà. A fire was born.
Liddy curled up on the couch, and he sat beside her. They continued to talk about nothing much until she reached for some silly little book on her coffee table. She flipped through it then, and he realized there were no words on the pages. It was a children’s book about a big black dog that was both funny and wry and it amazed him how much the illustrations tickled her.
As naturally as the sun had set on his way over to pick her up that night, Beau reached toward Liddy. He found himself sliding one hand behind her back and pulling her toward him, kissing her softly at first, then without holding back. The hard spine of a book landed on top of one of his loafers. The fake fire crackled. He drew her closer, reveling in the sound of her breath on his skin, and how her body folded into his embrace.
Reluctantly, he slowed himself. Her eyes fluttered open, throwing him flashes of yearning, of affection. She didn’t pull away. He took her in, then. Those eyes, the shape of her face, the short tendrils of dark hair peeking out from beneath that hat. Without a word, he gently lifted the hat from her head … and let it fall behind the couch.
Chapter 15
“So you’re a couple now?” Meg asked.
“Well, I don’t really know …” Liddy was speaking to Meg through headphones while on her morning beach walk. She detected a hint of something in her friend’s voice—trepidation, maybe?
“What … didn’t he say so?”
Liddy laughed uncomfortably. “He didn’t give me his class ring or anything, but we spent hours and hours together and then …”
“And then he kissed you like a man who meant it.”
Liddy dodged around a couple of guys tossing a football. “Yes.” Even to her own ears her voice sounded wistful. Beau had awakened things both primal and brand new in her. She didn’t expect anyone to understand that; after all, Meg had known her when she was married to Shawn. How could a once-married woman realize feelings wholly different—and far better—from those she had experienced before?
Whatever the reason, Liddy was in deep. And she could hardly contain herself. Hence, the impromptu workout on the sand, albeit one that would, hopefully, not push her into the abyss of fatigue. She needed this mental break, especially with another MRI appointment on the horizon soon. These days she found herself with one foot on cloud nine and the other sort of dangling over the edge.
Meg sighed. “Okay, well, I would like to see you two together sometime.”
“Then we’ll have to set up a double date.”
Meg scoffed. “Okay, sure.”
“Hey, there’s always Thomas.”
“I don’t want your castoffs!”
Liddy laughed, glad for Meg’s lighthearted response. “What was I thinking? Of course you’ll have someone amazing with you.” She paused. “Whatever happened to—what was his name again? Jim? Jess? Jak—”
“He’s long gone. No worries. Of course, I’ll dig someone up. Little black book, and all of that.” She lowered her voice, suddenly sounding distant, distracted. “Listen, I have to run. Conference call in fifteen. Talk later?”
Liddy nodded, a spritzing of sea spray landing on her skin. “Sure, of course. We’ll talk soon.”
She continued on, the jeweled path of sand and pebbles and seashell remnants laid out before her. Growing up, Meg had been the first to divulge the details of every crush and sideways glance directed her way. While Liddy had met and married the only boy who’d ever shown interest in her, Meg had a seemingly unending supply of maleness from which to choose. She hoped it wasn’t her marital status that had kept Meg from telling her more about the guy she’d dated last year—and abruptly stopped seeing. Had she not shown enough interest? Or was there something more?
With no answer forthcoming, Liddy blew out a sigh. She switched on her Pandora app and called up some music to keep her motivated and continued her way down the beach.
In the distance, a camera crew of five scanned the ocean, perhaps a news station with an open time slot. Liddy veered around them, eager to keep up her pace, but also curious about whatever it was that seemed to be intriguing the crew long enough to keep their cameras on. As she passed by, she realized that they weren’t with the local news station at all, but with a network she’d heard of called Blast.
As she passed by them with the song Happy playing through her earpiece, she couldn’t help but notice that as the small crew gazed out to sea, they were all, each and every one of them, smiling.
* * *
When the doorbell rang, she was still thinking about the barrier that had been annihilated between them last night. Beau stood on the stoop wearing that sexy grin much like he had less than twelve hours ago. Only this time, instead of well-fitted jacket and slacks, he wore shorts, a tee-shirt softened by a dryer’s tumbling, and a Rockies baseball cap.
She, for her part, wore a Dodgers cap.
He grimaced, presumably at her choice of head wear, but kissed her on the lips anyway.
Apparently, no barrier had grown back overnight. She caught herself noticing the way the soft cotton hugged his torso, then forced herself to glance away.
“I brought you something,” he said, bringing her blinking gaze back to him. He held out his palm and displayed a nickel-sized drop of sea glass.
She let out a tiny gasp
, and plucked it from his hand. The fragment reminded her of the jelly candy she’d loved as a child. The glass looked ruddy … almost orange, its surface satisfyingly rough, like sugar.
“Ready to go?”
Liddy looked up. “What?”
“To the picnic?”
She closed her hand around the gem. “How did you know … how much I like sea glass? Because of the inn?”
He watched her with a kind of smile in his eyes, and she tried not to think of the way those same eyes held her spellbound the night before … on the couch … mere feet behind them …
“The bowl.”
She tilted her head, trying to understand his words while simultaneously trying to calm the overzealous thump of her heart.
He pointed to the small bookcase in the corner, the one bearing her collection of sea glass, mostly green, white, and the occasional blue. She tossed the pieces in there whenever she’d managed to find one in the sand, carrying it home in the pocket of her hoodie, listening to the pieces jangle together like so much spare change.
“Of course. Well.” She looked up from the apricot-colored glass shimmering in her own palm. “Thank you. It’s gorgeous. I’ve never seen this color before. I think it must be fairly rare.”
He chuckled softly. “You’re welcome. So … are you ready to go?”
“I am.” She grabbed her bag and they headed down the stairs and into the sunshine.
Last night, before he had torn himself away from her, Beau had invited Liddy to a picnic for a local physician’s association. His light skin blushed slightly at the invitation, as if he understood that a day of networking—even though the setting was a park abutting the beach—didn’t exactly sound romantic.
But he had already RSVP’d, and so it had touched her that he wanted to, well, be seen with her. Not that she wouldn’t tease him about it, at least a little.
“Well, I don’t know,” she had said. “Will there be food?”
“Absolutely. And plenty of first aid,” he had quipped.
She remembered how the laughter between them made her feel—like a girl without a worry. Another rarity in her life lately. “You sure do know how to court a gal.”
He had wiggled his eyebrows at her then, sending another rather shocking thrill darting through her.
As it happened, the park was close enough to walk from her apartment. It had the best of the both worlds: the sea on one side and plenty of grills and green grass on the other.
He tucked her hand in his as they strolled the half mile or so to the park, and she wondered if he would notice how short her strides had become. When he’d asked her to join him at this “office” picnic of sorts, she’d been surprised by the invitation, but not unhappy about it.
Only now she wished it were just the two of them out for a romantic picnic. Greedy girl. She didn’t want to share him.
At the park, visored women poured mimosas as men with deep crevices in their cheeks flicked Frisbees back and forth, their Hawaiian shirts opened to reveal vaporous clouds of grey hair. Keeping her expression from faltering as introductions were made was no easy task. By contrast, several families towing young children and wagons full of towels and buckets also milled about.
Through all the weaving and smiling and hellos tossed around, Beau continued to hold Liddy’s hand, the feel of it warm and safe around hers.
“Hey, Beau!” A broad-shouldered man threw a “think fast” pass Beau’s way. “Pick-up football game on the field,” the guy said, still holding the ball in his throwing arm. “You coming?”
Beau hesitated, sliding a glance at her.
“Go on. I’ll get some food and watch what you’ve got.”
He spurted a laugh. “Oh, really.”
Liddy shrugged, giggling. “Don’t disappoint me.” Then she gave him a gentle shove toward the game.
Two lines had formed at the food tables, and, quickly, Liddy could see why. This event had been catered, and instead of mismatched potluck bowls of potato salad partially covered by foil and buzzing flies, aproned servers stood behind steaming trays holding fixings for gourmet tacos. Not a hot dog in sight.
After loading up her plate, she gathered up napkins and utensils and reached for a bottle of water.
“Liddy? Is that you under that hat?”
A woman with unblinking eyes peered at her. She wore an association badge proclaiming her a Board Member.
“It’s Mary. You may not remember me, but I work in Dr. Grayson’s office.”
“Oh yes.” Liddy nodded. “It’s been awhile. Nice to see you again.”
“Oh, honey, I could say the same thing about you.” She continued to stare into Liddy’s face. “We were all so worried—the other office ladies and I—but, well, look at you now. Why, you’re … walking and everything.”
Liddy tried to hide a wince, and she forced herself not to glance at the others in line who may have overheard Mary.
She took a step toward leaving. “Thank you, Mary. You’re right … I’m all healed up.”
Mary smiled and shot a look around. “Wonderful. And what brings you here?”
“My, uh, my friend Beau invited me.” Without a spare hand, she couldn’t exactly point, so instead Liddy gestured toward the pick-up game with her chin. “He runs Physician Marketing.”
Mary’s mouth popped open. “Yes, of course, we all know Beau.” She pinned her with a question in her eyes. “Didn’t … didn’t he lose his wife to cancer recently?”
Liddy bit her lip. “Last year, yes, he did.”
She straightened, a bewildering number of lines on her forehead jostling together. “Surely you and he are not… dating?”
A boy smelling of teenage years reached for a can of soda, bumping Liddy’s elbow. She gave him a “sorry”—though clearly not her fault—and turned back to Mary. “We’re … we’re friends.”
How could she say any more than that when she didn’t actually know the status of her relationship herself? In high school, though drama abounded, dating was cut and dried. He asked you out, you went—bam!—you had a boyfriend. As an adult, a divorced one at that, the nuances of relationship were not so clear.
Still, she had felt something electric last night with Beau, a wild mix of adrenaline that had made her both giddy and fearful. Mary’s question, still hanging between them as she filled her plate, brought the latter to the forefront. What, exactly, had Mary meant? That, because she had been ill herself, no way should she and Beau be together?
The teen bumped into her again. Liddy gave Mary a tight smile and shifted toward the exit. “Guess I’d better go. Blocking the line. Nice to see you again.”
She hustled away from the food area, her heart beating unusually fast, a dismal drop in her belly. People could think what they wanted. All she knew was that she was fine. Beau was fine. Still sad, she felt quite sure of that, but fine. This … this relationship with Beau was all new and fresh, and she hated that the slightest comment from someone who likely meant well had managed to sink this otherwise carefree moment in time. Maybe she was being too sensitive.
If not for the cheers coming from the football game, Liddy might have wandered along the sand for a while. Instead, she climbed an ice plant-dotted dune where several others had already spread out blankets and knelt down. From her perch on the slight rise she could see the ocean on one side and the field of players on the other.
“Excuse me, miss?”
A woman with brunette flyaway hair shooed her young son away from the corner of the blanket they were sitting on. An older man sat on the other side of her. “Please,” she said. “Sit with us. There’s plenty of room.”
Liddy smiled and scooched over. “Thanks.”
The boy, his lips outlined in Red #40, sucked on a lollipop and said, “We’re watching my dad!”
“You are?” she answered.
“Yeah, he’s in a red Spiderman shirt.”
Liddy cracked up.
“Who you watchin’?” he asked.
/> Liddy cradled her plate in her lap. She scanned the field with her eyes, then pointed at Beau, the red hair on his arms glistening in the sunshine. “That’s my friend, Beau, right over there. In the black baseball cap.”
The older man spoke up. “You Beau’s girl?”
Liddy swung a look at him. He resembled the woman on the blanket, and she wondered if he was the boy’s grandpa. “I’m with Beau. Yes.” She hoped her answer was sufficient.
The man nodded. “I see, I see.” He seemed to look her over then, not in a creepy old guy way, but as if his wheels were turning and he had more questions than answers. “I’m Peter Acero.”
“He’s a doctor!” the boy said.
The boy’s mother shushed him.
“Nice to meet you, Dr. Acero.”
“And this is my daughter Lucy and my grandboy Teddy. My son-in-law Ace is out on the field.”
“Well, then, it’s a pleasure to meet you all.” The heaviness that had momentarily settled on her flitted away on the ocean breeze. “And thank you again for sharing your beach real estate with me.”
Teddy scrunched up his face. “Real estate?”
Lucy laughed. “She means the blanket, mijo.”
They all laughed together, and settled in to watch the game. Down below, a cheer went up. Then a groan. At one point, seven guys joined in on a tackle … was that even legal in flag football? Rowdy shouts from the sidelines turned into catcalls as two sweaty guys ripped off their shirts and tossed them out of bounds.
One of them was Beau.
Be still my rapidly beating heart.
Peter chuckled. “Seems your guy is showing off for you.”
Under her breath, Lucy whispered, “Well if ya got it, flaunt it … that’s what I always say.”
Her father gasped. “I did not just hear my daughter say that.”
She slapped him good-naturedly on the shoulder. “I was talking about Ace, Papa.”
Liddy expected to hear another chuckle from Grandpa, but instead, he was giving her that once-over again. “You know,” he said, his face thoughtful, “you could be Anne’s kin.”
Walking on Sea Glass Page 13
