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She Loves Him...Not

Page 9

by Elana Johnson


  He took a minute to wet a washcloth with cold water and wipe his face before he moved over to her closed door and tapped on it. Several long seconds passed before she opened the door, and she stood there in front of him in a tiny pair of shorts and a gray T-shirt that was two sizes too big.

  She was still breathtakingly beautiful, and Teagan blurted, “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” She curled her fingers around the door and cocked one hip into it.

  “For getting angry at dinner. For shutting down for a little bit. For being a bad father.”

  She sighed. “You’re not a bad father.”

  “You don’t even know,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s fine. That’s not what matters. What matters here is that you might be right.”

  “Is that so?” she asked, a softness entering her gaze.

  “I mean, maybe,” he said. “It’s hard for me to say, but I think everything would be different in a marriage to a woman I actually love.”

  She tilted her head and backed up. “You want to come in?”

  He did, letting her door close behind him gently. “I didn’t love Caroline. I loved the idea of being in love, and she was an actress.” He hated the words as they left his mouth, but they were true. “I’m not the same person I was twenty years ago.”

  “None of us are,” she said.

  “That’s because you were ten years old,” he teased. “And thank goodness you’re not the same now as you were then.”

  “I do still like banana splits,” she said. “And it sure is taking a long time for the one I ordered from room service to show up.”

  “You ordered from room service?”

  “As soon as you texted,” she said. “Some conversations go better with ice cream.” She crawled onto the bed she was obviously going to sleep in, and Teagan perched on the other one.

  “So, because you’re right, I’m willing to be open to discussing having children.”

  Someone knocked on the door as soon as he finished speaking, and Gwen launched herself off the bed and over to the door. “Thank you,” she said. “Yes, right in here is fine.”

  A man entered with a tray in his hand and set it on the desk before turning back to Gwen, who handed him a bill before he left. The door closed, and she said, “Okay, time for ice cream.”

  “Did you hear what I said?” Teagan asked, rising.

  “Yes,” she said, finally looking at him with a measure of desire in her eyes. “And I appreciate it. You’re not the only one to blame, though. I have no right to assume how things will go, and I can’t judge how you feel, because I haven’t lived your past.”

  Teagan nodded, what she’d said so kind. Just so, so kind. “Thank you. I might not want to talk about it, but I’m willing to consider having kids.”

  “That’s fine for now,” she said. “We’ve just started seeing each other.” She stepped up to him and cradled his face in one hand while the other snaked around the back of his neck and gently pressed until his head lowered and touched they touched foreheads. “Okay?”

  “Okay,” he whispered. “Sorry to keep you up so late.”

  “And we haven’t even started the banana split yet,” she said, her smile touching his mouth as she kissed him.

  Teagan woke in the morning when a door slammed somewhere. He’d silenced his phone when he’d finally returned from the late-night dessert party in Gwen’s room. They’d agreed to a late start that day, but no time had been set. She had a habit of rising early, same as him, but surely she’d sleep in a little bit. He hadn’t left her room until almost one-thirty in the morning.

  He groaned as he sat up, his back not appreciating the hardness of this mattress. After scrubbing his hands through his hair, he reached for his phone. He had a few messages from Gwen, the last one reading, I’m headed out for breakfast. I’m waking you up when I get back.

  “Holy cow,” he said when he saw the time. It was after ten-thirty. No wonder she wanted to get going. He tapped out a quick message to say he was up and getting in the shower. Then he jumped over to his suitcase and pulled out his toiletries before going into the bathroom to get ready.

  Twenty minutes later, he answered the door to a fun, flirty Gwen wearing a beach hat and carrying two to-go cups of coffee and a white pastry bag. “There better be raspberry fritters in there,” he said.

  “Two,” she said with a smile. She tipped up onto her toes and kissed him quickly before coming into his room. “And we can eat on the beach or right here. What would you like?”

  “The beach,” he said, not wanting to spend any time in this hotel room if he could help it. “But weren’t we going out to Lookout Point today?”

  “Yes, so let’s eat and go.” She stepped over to the doors that bridged the gap between their rooms. “I’ll grab my beach bag.”

  Teagan picked up the pastries and coffee and followed her, finding her with that brightly colored beach bag that she’d packed and brought down to the sand yesterday too. “Ready?”

  “So ready,” she said, watching him. “You must’ve been tired.”

  “I was,” he said. “I think in more ways than one.”

  “I’m glad you got to rest,” she said, and Teagan could hear the genuine quality of her voice.

  Downstairs, they found a table on the outdoor patio, which wasn’t hard as it was nearly lunchtime and all the breakfast-goers had cleared out already. He snacked on his raspberry fritter and sipped his coffee and listened to Gwen tell stories of her sisters growing up at The Heartwood Inn.

  “And there were all these secret passages at the inn,” she said. “Once, Sheryl locked me inside one, and I freaked out.”

  “Really? That doesn’t seem like Sheryl.”

  “She was different as a teenager,” Gwen said. “Trust me.”

  “Define freaked out,” Teagan said.

  “Oh, I was eleven, and I was crying and screaming and when my dad finally heard me, we were in so much trouble.” She giggled and shook her head.

  “I like these stories.” He watched a family go by, their three children each carrying beach gear as they went down the sidewalk. The little girl called for her brother to help her as she dropped a bucket of plastic toys, and the boy turned back. The mother and father went on, but Teagan caught the mom looking to make sure her kids would catch up.

  Their chubby hands picked up the toys and put them in the bucket, and then they ran to catch the other people in their family. Teagan smiled at them, enjoying the innocence of them.

  “Sounds like you had a good time growing up with your sisters,” he said.

  “There were moments.” Gwen smiled at him. “This beach feels less frantic than ours.”

  “It’s just as busy,” he said. “It might be because you don’t have to worry about getting a text that will cause you to run back inside and solve a problem.”

  She smiled at him and leaned her head against his bicep. “I think that’s it.”

  He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You ready to go to Lookout Point? You can sometimes see whales there.”

  “Not in the middle of the day,” she said. “Right?”

  “Yeah, probably not. I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe we’ll get lucky.” Teagan already felt pretty lucky, and he hoped he wouldn’t do or say anything else to ruin the next ten days. He had very few things in his life that were important to him, and he had to fight for the ones that were.

  And he’d realized in the past few days that Gwen was on that list, and he might have some work to do on himself to be the man Gwen needed. But he was willing to do it.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “It’s right there,” Gwen said, pointing. “See the tailfin?”

  “I see it,” Teagan said excitedly. “There is a whale there.”

  They’d stopped for lunch on the way out to Lookout Point, and by the time they’d walked up the path to the highest point overlooking the water, the sun had started to arc down in the west. Gwen hadn’t had such a relax
ing day in ages, and she wanted another one like today. And then another. And then another.

  The whale’s tail came up again, and Gwen smiled at the simple beauty of it. The very real feeling of Teagan beside her, despite their differences. The wind blew off the ocean and into her face, and she breathed in the salty scent of it.

  “Do you want to go down to the shops?” Teagan asked after they’d stood there for several minutes.

  “Yes,” Gwen said at the same time her phone chimed. She glanced at it and choked. “Oh, my goodness. It’s Celeste. I have to call her.” She jabbed at the phone icon at the top of the screen, ignoring Teagan’s question of “What’s wrong?”

  Celeste answered the phone with a squeal, and Gwen really wished she was there. “You really booked Georgia Panic?”

  “We said we weren’t working for the next ten days,” Teagan said, looking very stern. Gwen held up one finger, because this was Georgia Panic, one of the best bands in the world. And maybe Gwen had a little crush on their drummer. A tiny little crush, from way last year.

  “I really did,” Celeste said, laughing. “And not only that, but they want a friends and family dinner catered, and they want a catered fan event.”

  Gwen didn’t have their calendar memorized, but Celeste had access to it. “Does it work with the schedule?”

  “It sure does,” she said gleefully. “How’s your trip so far?”

  She looked at Teagan’s back as he walked away from her. “I have to go, actually. Can I call you later?”

  “If you don’t, I will be so mad,” Celeste said, and Gwen laughed with her.

  She hung up and called, “Teagan,” after him. He paused but didn’t turn to look at her. “It wasn’t really work,” she said as she caught up to him. “Celeste did book Georgia Panic, but it was more of a sister fangirl moment.”

  “You like Georgia Panic.” He wasn’t asking, and he didn’t look amused.

  “Yeah,” Gwen said. “Are you going to be mad over a thirty-second phone call?” She ran her fingertips up his arm. “I thought we were going shopping. I want to buy all kinds of stupid souvenirs for my sisters.” She smiled at him, and he took the glaring down a couple of notches. “And maybe I have—had—a crush on the Panic drummer.”

  She shrugged one shoulder like anything was possible.

  “Oh, I see.” He grinned at her, his bad mood gone now. “All right, let’s go shopping,” he said.

  “And we can look for somewhere good to eat dinner.”

  He smiled at her then, and Gwen knew she was forgiven for the “business” phone call.

  “It is nice not having to think about work,” she said.

  “So nice,” he agreed.

  “Do you ever wish you’d done something else with your life?” she asked.

  “I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

  “Have you always wanted to be a chef?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Me too,” she said. “I used to get kitchen items for Christmas. Pots and pans and knives. I was cooking family dinner when I was twelve years old.” Gwen smiled at the memories.

  “Me too,” he said. “But out of necessity, not because I particularly enjoyed it.”

  “But you do enjoy it now, right?” She’d seen his interaction with his mother, and she wasn’t surprised he’d been cooking since childhood. A pang of sadness hit her though, because her experiences in the kitchen were filled with joy and love, not bitterness and resentment.

  “Yeah,” he said. “But honestly, I went to culinary school to prove to my mother that she couldn’t control me.” He didn’t sound happy about what he’d just said. “And because the institution I’d gotten into was all the way across the country from Caroline.”

  “What happened with her?” Gwen said as they reached the bottom of the steps. They’d have to drive back to the downtown area to shop out here on Lookout Point, so she headed for the car.

  “She was a child actress,” he said. “So she was already famous when I met her. And she was…charming. Beautiful. I was young and stupid. We both were, but especially me.” He unlocked the car and held her door while she got in. Once he was seated behind the wheel, he said, “And like I said already, I loved the idea of us. So we got married on a whim. Her parents were so angry.”

  “I can imagine,” Gwen said.

  “They wanted an annulment, but Caroline fought them on it.” He drove slowly out of the parking lot, and Gwen mentally said good-bye to the whales. “She was older than me, and there wasn’t much her parents could do about the marriage. But the shininess of our relationship wore off pretty fast, and it was obvious we weren’t going to stay married. So I left.”

  “And you found out about Abby later.”

  “Yes,” he said. “Not until she was two years old, actually.” His spoke in a very quiet voice, and Gwen took a few seconds to think about what that must’ve been like for him. No wonder he’d been beating himself up about it for the past twenty years.

  “I didn’t go back. I didn’t meet her until I finished culinary school. She was three, and she had no idea who I was. It’s been a difficult road for us, but I think we’re doing okay now.”

  “I can’t wait to meet her,” Gwen said.

  “Why would you need to meet her?” Teagan asked, glancing at Gwen.

  “What?” Gwen searched his face, but he looked back out the windshield. “She’s your daughter, Teagan. Of course I’m going to meet her.”

  “Maybe,” he said.

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “What if we don’t work out?”

  “You think we’re not going to work out?” Gwen had no idea what to say to that. She’d invited him on a ten-day trip, for crying out loud. They were getting along great, in her opinion. They’d worked through a difficult conversation topic already, and she enjoyed spending time with him.

  Except for right now, that was.

  She hated this back and forth with Teagan. She felt like she was on a teeter-totter or playing a teenage game of she loves him….she loves him not.

  And she wasn’t in love with Teagan Hatch—and least not yet. But standing up on the lookout with him, watching that magnificent whale she could feel herself slipping in that direction. With every honest conversation they had, she inched further toward falling in love with him.

  Every time he drank her up like he was so happy to see her, every time their hands touched, every time he kissed her with those slow, passionate movements, she fell a little further.

  “I don’t know, Gwen,” he finally said. “Do we have to decide right now?”

  “No,” she said, her voice stung.

  “I feel like I have a lot to work on,” Teagan said, pressing his hands against his forehead. “I need to go see someone.”

  Gwen’s eyebrows went up. “Like a counselor?”

  “Exactly like that.”

  “Have you done that before?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he said. “Right after I found out about Abby. I had a lot of feelings during that time and talking them out with a neutral party helped a lot.”

  Gwen was sure it did. Being able to run things by Celeste had been important to Gwen for a long time. And she appreciated the candid way Teagan talked through hard things with her too.

  He found a parking spot on the street, but Gwen didn’t feel much merriment as she got out to go shopping. “How will you know when I can meet Abby?” she asked, peering down the road. A bus sat parked next to a boutique, freshly painted but obviously not going anywhere. School Bus Ice Cream the sign proudly proclaimed, and Gwen suddenly needed something sweet.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I guess I’ll just know.”

  “Has she ever met any of your girlfriends?” Gwen asked. She’d never seen Teagan take a day off before, so she knew he hadn’t flown to California to visit his daughter in at least five years. Probably longer.

  “No,” Teagan said. “I haven’t had many of those, and no.”

  S
o she’d be the first of his girlfriends to meet Abby. It was suddenly a very big job, and Gwen wasn’t sure she was up to the task. After all, the woman was only ten years younger than her. How could she ever be a mother figure for her?

  Gwen didn’t ask him any more questions after that. Teagan tended to shut down on topics he wasn’t interested in talking about, but he usually came around. Abby seemed to be particularly off-limits, though, and Gwen wondered if she was kidding herself when it came to Teagan.

  He’d never seemed like he needed more in his life than he currently had, even when they hadn’t been on good speaking terms. She felt like she was asking a lot of him, almost like she wanted him to be someone he wasn’t. Not only that, but someone he wasn’t capable of becoming. Or someone he didn’t want to become.

  Gwen poked through shops and bought a couple of hand-thrown mugs by local Whistlestop Shores artists for Celeste and Olympia, both of whom loved coffee and tea almost as much as life itself. She found a pair of earrings for Sheryl in the shape of potted plants and a pair of fishing gloves for Alissa.

  She wanted something for her parents and grandmother too, but they had plenty of time to visit more shops on the Shores.

  Teagan didn’t say much as she exclaimed over trinkets, bought magnets for her fridge, and asked him where he wanted to eat. A tension existed between them now, and Gwen really just wanted twenty-four hours where they could just be together without the underlying anxiety.

  “Take me somewhere you liked as a kid,” she said. “Or a teenager. Whatever.”

  “I didn’t like Whistlestop Shores growing up,” he said, almost roughly.

  “Nothing about it?”

  “Very little,” he said.

  “Then take me to the little you did like.”

  He looked at her, and so many storms swirled in those eyes that had always captivated her. Frustration filled his gaze, and Gwen felt it stirring in her soul too. Why was being with him so hard? And being without him was torture.

 

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