by Marie Force
The thought of that conversation takes my breath away. I don’t need to think about that today, but I do need to do something about it soon. My friends love my kids and would do anything for them, but it’s an awful lot to ask of anyone.
“How about nine?” I say.
“How many hours is that?”
“Four,” Logan says.
“That’s a long time,” Maddie says, sounding whiny.
“You guys woke up really early, so we have to kill some time until the rest of the world wakes up, too.”
“What does that mean? ‘Kill time’?”
“It means find other stuff to do until it’s time to go to the beach,” Logan says.
“Exactly.” I smile at my son, who is too smart for his own good—and mine. The first conversation I ever had with Natalie was about how bright he is. She saw it from the beginning and nurtured him during the months she was his teacher. “We can do some unpacking before we get ready for the beach.”
That’s met with groans and protests.
“No beach until everyone unpacks at least one box. And, we’ve been invited to swim at Natalie’s house and for Marlowe’s birthday party, but we’re not going unless everyone has a thirty-minute rest after the beach.” Especially me.
“I don’t wanna unpack,” Maddie says.
“It’s one box,” Logan replies. “Don’t be a baby. The sooner we get it done, the sooner we can go to the beach.”
“Will you help me with mine?” she asks him.
“Only if you help with mine.”
“Let’s go. This is gonna be the best day ever. The beach and a pool!”
They scamper off, leaving their bowls on the table. Usually I’d call them back to do their own dishes, but I don’t want to get in the way of progress. Still smiling at their excitement, I clear their bowls and put them into the dishwasher and then take my coffee outside, where the first streaks of color crisscross the sky. Everything is covered in a thin layer of dew, and when I take a deep breath, I swear I can smell the beach.
That scent takes me back to my childhood summers on the Jersey Shore, to a time when everything seemed possible and life hadn’t disappointed me yet. I met the kids’ father there the summer after I graduated from college. I haven’t thought about him in a long time, but the scent of the beach resurrects powerful memories.
“Mom, Maddie’s not helping.” Logan’s voice interrupts my thoughts, which is just as well. I have too many good things happening in my life to bother revisiting the hard times. I head inside to supervise the unpacking, which keeps us busy for a couple of hours. We have much more space here than we had in our New York apartment, but it’s still a challenge to find a place for everything. I reach my limit around the same time they do. “Who’s ready to check out the beach?”
“Me!” they say in stereo.
While they change into bathing suits, I pack a lunch for us, making sandwiches from the turkey and rolls I find in the fridge. Nat thought of everything, even juice boxes and cookies for the kids. I dig towels out of a box, sand toys from yet another box, and retrieve sunscreen from my suitcase. “Give me one minute to change, and then we can go.”
It takes all of five minutes to walk from our house to the beach. We’re even closer than I thought, a fact that delights me as much as the kids.
“It’s so close!” Logan says with a shriek as he runs ahead of me onto the sand, his little sister in hot pursuit.
I speed up so I won’t lose track of them, calling out for them to wait for me.
They stop, let me catch up and walk with me to the water’s edge. “Sunscreen first.”
“Aw, Mom, come on,” Logan says. “I want to swim.”
“Sunscreen first.”
We swim, we build a sandcastle, we eat lunch and then swim again. On the way home, we stop at the playground, where the kids run around with other kids for half an hour before I signal that it’s time to go. At home, we use the outdoor shower to rinse off the sand. Both kids are yawning by the time we’re back inside, and it doesn’t take much convincing to get them to lie down for a short time.
They gave up napping years ago, but the time difference has their internal clocks out of whack. I can’t take two ragged kids to Nat’s or they’ll be melting down by dinnertime, so I hope they’ll sleep for a little while. I choke back a yawn as I unpack the beach bag and hang the towels outside to dry. Being here feels like being on vacation, only this is our home now. We can walk to the beach!
I go into my room to take a shower, and have I mentioned how much I love having my own bathroom? It’s the third best thing about this house, after the proximity to the beach and the yard. Sharing a bathroom with two little kids is no fun, and it’s a delight to step into the shower without first having to rid the tub of bath toys. I shower off the sand and sunscreen and wash my hair. If there’s anything good about my hair being short and wild, it’s that I don’t have to spend lots of time tending to it. Nothing I do to it matters, so I let it have its way.
Wrapped up in a light robe, I stretch out on my bed and close my eyes, intending to take a quick twenty-minute nap.
The next time I open my eyes, it’s after four o’clock and my cell phone is ringing with a call from Natalie. I can’t believe the kids slept for two hours! That hasn’t happened during the day in years.
“Hey,” I say to Nat. “I’m so sorry. We were up at four thirty and crashed at two. If the invite still stands, we’ll be over soon.”
“Of course it still stands. We’re here, and everyone else is coming for dinner around six. Come whenever you want.”
“I might let the kids sleep for a little while longer so they don’t melt down later.”
“I can’t believe they were up at four thirty!”
“That’s seven thirty in New York, which is late for them. What can I bring?”
“Absolutely nothing. I have everything, and Marlowe insisted on no gifts.”
“All right, then. I’ll see you soon.”
“You have our address, right?”
“I do.”
“Just punch it into the GPS, and call me if you have any trouble finding it.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
“Just remember, the later it gets, the worse the traffic will be.”
“I haven’t driven in so long, I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be stuck in traffic.”
“You’re about to get an unpleasant refresher course. If there’s one thing we have plenty of in LA, it’s traffic. See you soon!”
I iron a cute dress and apply enough makeup to complement the healthy glow from the sun without appearing to have tried too hard, which is a fine line. I manage to cover the dark circles without looking like I’m overly made up. My heart beats fast and steady at the thought of seeing Kristian.
“Please let him be there,” I whisper to my reflection in the mirror—as if she can somehow make it happen. “Please. I just want to see him. That’ll be enough for now.”
I smooth on scented lotion that makes my skin soft and shimmery and top off my look with lip gloss that makes me feel young and fresh and healthy. I’m none of those things, but you’d never know it to look at me. Satisfied with my appearance, I wake the kids and pack yet another bag with swimsuits and towels. Good thing I bought them several new suits before we left New York.
Armed with snacks and juice boxes and in good moods after their rest, the kids lead the way to the car.
“Mom,” Logan says. “Check it out. There’s a booster seat for Maddie already in the car.”
I realize I hadn’t even thought of that since it’s been so long since we needed them living in the city. “Someone thought of everything.”
“Probably Natalie,” he says. “She’s super nice that way.”
I’d planned for the kids to call everyone Miss and Mister, but that was swiftly vetoed by our new friends who insisted the kids call them by their first names. Oh well, I tried, and as a single mom, I’ve learned to choose
my battles. This is one I can’t win with everyone else working against me.
The car is incredible! Sleek and gorgeous, I can’t believe it’s mine. However, the GPS is complicated, and it takes me a minute to enter Nat’s address into my phone. I pull out of the driveway and drive like an old lady until I get a feel for the car.
“It’s so fun here, Mommy,” Maddie says. “We can go to the beach any time we want, and the playground and Natalie’s house.”
“Yes, baby, we can. It’s going to be a lot of fun. But we have to work hard, too.”
“Not in the summer we don’t.”
“You still have to do your summer worksheets, and Logan has to read.”
“That’s what July is for,” Logan declares.
We talk about what we see on our way to Natalie and Flynn’s home in the Hollywood Hills—fancy cars and palm trees and art deco buildings and signs. They’re interested in everything about our new home, and their interest fuels mine. We pass a dance studio not far from our house that I make note of for the fall. Maddie took dance in New York, and I want her to be able to continue here. I want to try to get them both into a few activities this summer so they’ll meet some new friends before school starts. I need to find a new pediatrician and dentist for them, register them for school and finalize the plans for their summer camps.
My to-do list is long, but like Logan said, I don’t have to worry about any of that today.
I make a couple of wrong turns in the Hills and discover that when the GPS says, “Turn,” it means right now. I pull up to the gate outside Natalie and Flynn’s home around five thirty and press the button on the security panel.
“Hello?” Natalie says.
“It’s Aileen.”
“Come on in!” She buzzes me in, and the gates swing open. I drive in and park next to the usual group of drool-worthy cars. Mine looks rather nice next to them, if I do say so myself. Before the kids can bound out of the car, I stop them.
“Please remember your manners, and follow the rules in the pool.”
“We know,” Logan says impatiently. “No screaming, no running and no swimming unless an adult is with us. Can we go now?”
“Go ahead,” I say, amused by him. It’s not for nothing that I refer to him as my Little Man. He’s been the man of our family since before Maddie was born. He barely remembers his father, which I tell myself is a good thing. But it won’t be long before I’ll have to answer tough questions that I know he has but hasn’t articulated yet.
I’m retrieving the beach bag from the trunk when another car pulls into the driveway. Turning to see who it is, I lock eyes with Kristian, driving a silver sports car that roars when he accelerates into the spot next to mine.
As I wait for him to get out of the car, I can’t move or breathe. I break out in goose bumps from head to toe, my body reduced to one big nerve ending on full alert.
He unfolds himself from the low-slung car, and when he stands, I recall how much taller than me he is. He’s easily six-two or three. His hair has gotten long since I last saw him, and when he props a pair of aviators on his head, I can see that his eyes are every bit as blue as I recall. His jaw is covered in a light stubble, and he’s wearing a T-shirt with swim trunks. Right away, I notice he seems troubled.
For a long, charged moment, we stand there and stare at each other. He doesn’t say anything and neither do I. But so much is said without words. It’s still there. The crazy attraction that’s had so much of my attention since I met him in January is still alive and well and arcing between us now like a fully charged live wire.
The kids. I should go to them, but Natalie is there, and she’ll watch them for a minute.
Finally, after what seems like an hour has passed when surely it’s only been a minute or two, I clear my throat and force myself to look directly at him, which isn’t all that different from looking directly into the sun. “It’s nice to see you.”
“You, too. Are you all settled in?”
“Not quite, but we’re getting there.”
What was once so easy and effortless between us is now awkward and stilted. I feel like I’ve lost something I never really had.
“Could I carry that for you?” He gestures to the beach bag that sits at my feet.
“Oh, um, sure. Thanks.”
As he reaches for the bag, I do, too, and my hand brushes against his, sending a charge of electricity through my body. That’s all it takes to make my nipples tighten and my sex clench with need. Dear God.
His sharp intake of air tells me the brief contact had a similar effect on him.
I know I shouldn’t, but I have to ask. “Is everything all right, Kristian?”
He stares at me for another long moment, his expression unreadable. “Everything is fine. Come on, let’s go in.” Grabbing the bag, he waits for me to close the trunk of my car and gestures for me to go ahead of him into Flynn and Natalie’s house. He said everything is fine, but it isn’t. It’s not fine at all.
I only wish I knew why.
Seeing her again is like a punch to the gut delivered by a baseball bat. She looks so good. Her hair has gotten longer since I last saw her, and she’s gotten some sun that gives her a sweet, healthy glow. What is it about her that makes me want to wrap my arms around her and protect her always? I’ve never in my life had that kind of reaction to anyone, and I have no idea how to handle it.
I forced myself to come to Mo’s party, knowing Aileen and the kids would be here. I couldn’t disappoint one of my best friends. And after spending all day answering questions about where I was yesterday, I can either show my face or have everyone speculating about what the hell is wrong with me.
I don’t want them speculating, so here I am.
As I follow Aileen into the house, it takes everything I have not to grab her hand and spin her around so I can kiss her senseless, the way I’ve wanted to since the first time I ever saw her. I want to kiss her and hold her and protect her—and her children. The only people I’ve ever felt protective toward in my life are my business partners, so feeling this way about a woman I barely know has upended my entire world.
I resist the urge to grab, spin and kiss. I’m reeling. I don’t know what to do or say or how to act, and I always know what to do and say and how to act. This isn’t me. I’m never out of control or uncertain, and I hate feeling this way. But I can’t make it stop, and I’m not sure I want it to.
When we walk into the kitchen, Natalie hugs Aileen. “You found it!”
“I made a few wrong turns, but I figured it out.”
Even her fucking voice turns me on, husky and sexy and sprinkled with infectious amusement that makes me want to lean in closer so I won’t miss a word she says.
“Now that you know how to find us, you can come over all the time.”
Flynn’s wife is a doll. I’ll admit to having had concerns about how fast they got together as well as his insistence on marrying her without a prenup only a few weeks after they met. But you can’t be around them for long and not see that they’re the real deal. I’m so happy for my friend, who deserves every good thing this world has to offer. He’d do anything for me, and the feeling is entirely mutual.
Flynn and his father are the reason for my extraordinary career. His dad gave me my first major break years ago and set me on a path toward a life that never would’ve happened without his guidance and influence. Max Godfrey is the closest thing to a father I’ve ever had, and there is literally nothing I wouldn’t do for him—or his son.
That’s one of many reasons I need to rein in this insanity with Aileen. She’s the close friend of Flynn’s wife, which puts her firmly under the protection of the Godfrey family. For me, that means hands off. I keep my hands to myself, but my eyes… They’re drawn to her every move. I watch as she goes out to the pool deck to check on her kids, who are playing in the pool with Flynn’s nephews, under the supervision of Flynn, his brother-in-law Hugh and our partner Hayden Roth.
Her kids a
re so damned cute. Logan has dark hair and a serious demeanor that tugs at my heart. The poor kid has been through a lot, and it’s so nice to see him laughing and having fun. His sister has the same color hair, but hers is curly. She has golden-brown eyes, the cutest dimples and an impish way about her that I find completely irresistible. Maddie doesn’t seem to have been as affected by the trauma of her mother’s illness, probably because she’s too young to understand the possible implications. But Logan… He knows. He watches over his mother and sister like the man of the family that he is, with far more awareness than any child his age should have.
Flynn takes Logan by surprise when he lifts him up high and sends him flying.
For a second, my heart stops as I wonder if Logan swims well enough to be dropped into the deep end of the pool. Then Logan pops up, his face alight with laughter as he swims back to the shallow end, looking for more of the same from Flynn.
I release the breath, reminding myself that the safety of Aileen’s children isn’t my responsibility.
I wish it was.
I no sooner have the thought than I’m again asking myself what the fuck is wrong with me. Whatever it is, I need a drink and I need it now. I head to the bar that’s been set up next to the pool and pour myself a vodka and soda—emphasis on the vodka—with a twist of lemon. I prefer whiskey, but I only drink it on vacation when I can get rip-roaring drunk and not have to function the next day.
Mo comes over to say hello and kisses my cheek. “You feeling better?”
“Yeah, I’m good. Happy birthday.”
“Thanks.” She gives me a look that makes me feel like she can see inside me. “You sure you’re okay? You still look a little strange around the eyes.”
That’s our Marlowe. If she thinks it, she says it, and we wouldn’t have her any other way. “I’m fine.”
“I’m right here if you need me.”
I kiss her cheek. “I know, and that means a lot.” Taking my drink, I move to safer territory, joining Jasper, Ellie, Addie, Leah, Emmett and Sebastian at one of the tables next to the pool.
