Sam was getting an uncomfortable feeling. “Is that often?”
“Sam, Mom doesn’t want me to talk to you about her.”
“Right,” he agreed. A little progress at a time.
He cleared his throat. “I’m okay with our arrangement. I just have one favor. Can you call me Dad, please? I don’t care what your mom calls me, but to you, I’d appreciate being Dad.”
“Okay.”
He blew out a breath. “Sarah? Do you have anything to add?”
Her lips were pursed and she seemed to be restraining herself, but she just shook her head sharply.
Something was up. Something he would press her on tomorrow. “Great. I’ll see you at dawn for beach meditation.”
Sarah’s eyes widened and her cheeks turned red, but he continued to smile at her.
Her jaw snapped shut and she stood. “Fine. I’ll be ready.” She glanced to Lucy. “Will you be joining us, too?”
“Nope.” Lucy shook her head. “I prefer to sleep in.”
“Not anymore, you don’t,” Sarah said tightly. “The cats start bitching and moaning for their wet food at dawn.”
Bitching and moaning? Sam mouthed to Sarah. This was what he’d meant by her brashness.
Lucy narrowed her eyes at Sarah. “They do?”
“Oh, hell, yeah. They were howling like crazy this morning.”
“Well, I’ll feed Becker and Simmonds tomorrow morning when you’re both at meditation practice,” Lucy said. “Then I’ll go back to bed.” She licked her fork, content.
“Are you happy?” Sarah snapped at Sam. “Do you like what’s happening here?”
“Yes, actually,” he said, smiling. “I do.”
* * *
SARAH SAID NO to dessert, then went back to Cassandra’s cottage and locked herself in for the night with the little squawking, tuxedo-wearing creature and his big, black furry enforcer.
Both cats stared her down as if to say, “What? No steak for us?” Sarah was sure they had smelled the meal cooking next door and were outraged that she’d neglected to bring them home a doggie bag.
She selected a can of cat food from Cassandra’s dwindling stash and opened it by the snap pull. The contents of this particular can stunk to high heaven.
With thumb and forefinger pinching her nose, she scooped out the beige, lumpy mush and prepared to foist it on them, but their two ceramic dinner bowls were dirty. She couldn’t serve them dinner in those. Instead, she found two clean human bowls in the dishwasher and divided the wet mess between them.
Becker squawked at her in protest over this deviation from routine, while his compadre betrayed him by digging in without protest.
Becker gave her one final squawk to indicate his displeasure before settling in beside Simmonds.
Sarah washed her hands and headed to her bedroom, firmly shutting the door behind her.
What had she gotten herself into, both with Sam and these little furry creatures who were so intent on shaking up her life and making her be part of things that made her feel so uncomfortable?
On second thought, she got up and cracked open her door. The two little guys were still in the kitchen, eating. She felt a stab of disappointment they weren’t rushing into the bedroom. Maybe sleeping beside them last night hadn’t been so bad...
She covered her face. It wasn’t only the cats who were getting to her. Cozying up and playing house with Sam Logan—the hot lifeguard who scared the hell out of her, if she was honest—and his smart, sweet daughter? How could that possibly be a good idea? She was an independent woman.
But to regain control of her company, she needed Lucy. Sarah had no doubt that Lucy would pass muster and be approved to compete. With Sarah mentoring her, she fully believed the girl could take it all the way to the finals.
The grand prize was a full scholarship to the most advanced private tech school in California. Sarah had once won this prize, and it had changed her life. From there, she’d gone on to Stanford, also on full scholarship, and then on again to Harvard Business School until she’d dropped out to start her own company.
But she was getting ahead of herself. Their big goal—to get Lucy on videotape giving an excellent pitch—was tough enough. The girl was unpolished—even if her idea was good. Sarah would have to do some serious coaching.
Lucy needed practice with her presentation. She needed to learn good pitch delivery skills and to refine her camera presence.
This would include an appropriate wardrobe and styling. The competition was fierce—every little thing mattered.
Excited, Sarah set about writing up a list for tomorrow...
It was funny, but she hadn’t figured Sam for a concerned, involved dad. That made her life more difficult, but she would handle it. She had to.
What was not doable for Sarah was thinking too much about her morning meditation session with a hot lifeguard.
She hoped that Sam wore more than his orange swim trunks and a whistle on his chest.
CHAPTER SIX
JUST BEFORE SUNRISE, Sarah woke and prepared to gird herself for battle.
First, she showered. She washed her hair, shaved her legs and used Cassandra’s rose-scented soap. Even in her still-jetlagged condition, she was determined to be on her toes and keep Sam at arm’s length.
She pulled out her suitcases and sorted through the clothes she’d packed—an outfit for every occasion because she liked to be prepared—but in the harsh light, everything looked too fancy. Too expensive. Too out of place.
She sat back and crossed her arms. The two cats curled up on the bed she’d made with Cassandra’s cotton, Victorian-themed bed sheets. Simmonds yawned, showing a gaping mouth filled with sharp, pointy teeth.
At least they weren’t screeching and yowling at her. It was still dark outside. Early, even for them. Under their watchful gaze, she selected a comfortable, oversized T-shirt that she’d brought mainly for sleeping and put on an exercise bra beneath it. She felt bound up like a boy, which was good. She completed the outfit with a pair of calf-length yoga pants. She was expected to go barefoot, she supposed.
She set her pen and a notepad in a book bag near the door, because she intended to take notes. Shaking out her arms, she also supposed she should put something in her stomach, but it was just too early to eat. She added a water bottle to her bag instead.
Sam was right on time. He wore shorts and a T-shirt. Sarah watched him through her side window as he left his house, sliding his squeaky screen door open and then shutting it with a thunk. His hair was rumpled and the T-shirt skimmed his chest loosely. The board shorts showed off his slim hips.
What was she thinking? He was so young. She was...middle-aged.
She stepped away from the window, rubbing her eyes, and immediately almost tripped. Simmonds had wrapped himself around her ankles. Little Becker sat on her book bag. Probably shedding all over it. Cat fur already clung like needles to everything she owned.
Sam knocked on her door. Swallowing, she let him in. Of course he was gorgeous in the morning. He was always gorgeous.
Wiping his sleepy eyes, he smiled at her. “You look nice.”
Nice? Was that nice, as in old-lady polite, or nice as in nice?
He swiped his hand through his hair. “Is this too early for you?”
“No,” she insisted. She was a morning person. Got all her best work done before other people got into the office. Besides, the East Coast was awake three hours earlier, and she often had conference calls to participate in.
He bent down and unwrapped the big cat from around her ankles. “Well, let’s get started. I run the morning training for the lifeguards later on, and if this weather holds, we’ll be out doing mile swims.”
His eyes looked impossibly blue, and Sarah couldn’t not stare into them, especially after his bare arm grazed hers.
“I can’t
even conceive of that,” she managed to croak out.
He tilted his head at her, probably remembering her caught in the rip current. “If you ever want to take a break from meditating, some morning I could work with you on your swimming form,” he offered.
Work up close with him in a swimsuit? “No, thanks.”
“Okay. We’ll stick to meditation.”
She kicked at her bag. “I read a lot of textbooks about it during my flight, but honestly, I’m not impressed.”
“Forget the textbooks.”
“That’s how I learn, Sam.”
“Meditating isn’t really something you learn, Sarah. It’s something you practice.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
He smiled at her. There was something about that smile that made her go all gooey in the knees.
“Shall we?” he asked, and leaning forward, held Cassandra’s cottage door for her as she stepped outside.
Damp, salty air invaded her nostrils. It wasn’t unwelcome. She felt hot and bothered just being near him.
But Sam hadn’t looked her up and down, so there was that. Unfortunately, there was just so much...awareness on her part. Chemistry.
But Sarah’s mind went blank and she found herself unable to trade barbs with him. She was pretty much helpless on his turf. She couldn’t just march in and take over as she had done regarding Future Tech Scholars last night.
Her heart thumping strangely in her chest, she followed him down the beach. Outside it was cool, not quite light, and the sound of the waves rushing in from the sea was comfortably familiar. It was high tide.
“There’s less soft sand between the sea and Cassandra’s cottage than there was when I was younger,” she heard herself murmuring to him.
“The sea always changes,” he said idly in return.
“Wait! Stop!” Lucy shouted as she ran across Sam’s porch and onto the sand toward them. She was dressed in a baggy T-shirt and shorts and she was barefoot.
Out of breath, Lucy stopped before them. “You didn’t wake me up,” she complained to Sam.
“You seemed peaceful, so I decided to let you rest.”
“Yeah, but I promised to feed Cassandra’s cats,” Lucy said.
“That’s good. You’re responsible,” Sarah remarked. She was grateful for the girl’s interruption, because it had snapped her out of her Sam trance.
Sarah reached into her pocket and held out the house key Cassandra’s attorney had given her. “I’m trusting you with this,” she said to Lucy in all seriousness. Sarah had discovered where Cassandra hid her spare key, so she could get in and out of the cottage using that copy. “You’ll be feeding the two cats morning and night. Do you know where their food is?”
“Of course.” Lucy crossed her arms. “Cassandra showed me how to feed them. And also, Becker and Simmonds eat the wet food in the morning and dry food in the afternoon.”
“Okay. Great. Glad that’s settled.” Sam gazed up at the clouds and held out his hand. “Come on,” he said to Sarah. “I only have so much time before work starts.”
They left Lucy behind, and Sarah marched beside him, matching his gait. The beach was silent. They were the only two people as far as the eye could see.
“Shouldn’t we meditate right here, in front of the house?” she asked.
“Why? Are you nervous?” He turned to wink at her.
Put that way, as a challenge, she couldn’t argue her choice. “It might rain,” she said defiantly.
“Not yet. And it’s better for us to keep walking to where it’s quieter.”
“But what about Lucy? Shouldn’t you stay close?”
“She’s fine for a half hour. Besides, she has my phone number.” He patted his knapsack. “Any other objections?”
She clamped her lips shut. Why couldn’t she get the image of the two of them sitting close together out of her head?
She stopped again.
“What is it?” he asked her.
“I need to go back. I forgot my notebook.”
He stared at her. “What do you need a notebook for?”
“To take notes,” she said patiently. “I’m a kinesthetic learner.”
He shook his head. “You don’t need notes for this.”
“You don’t understand. I need notes for everything new to me.”
He sighed. “Come on, Sarah.”
They trudged on. “How far are we going?” she asked.
“Why?” He glanced at her. “Are you tired of the walk already?”
“No! I’m not that out of shape.” She swallowed, intimidated by his muscles, and turned away. But in her nervousness, her need to avoid thinking about sitting alone with him in some far deserted place, she blurted the first thing that crossed her mind. “How long have you been divorced from Lucy’s mom?”
She winced even as she heard herself saying it.
He was silent as he trudged along. His mood seemed to change, as if he was deciding how to deal with the question.
“No divorce,” he finally answered. “We never married in the first place.”
“Oh!” She hadn’t expected that. She slid a glance at him. It seemed to shift her entire opinion of him, though that didn’t make sense. What really surprised her was that she’d been forming preconceived notions about Sam since she’d first seen him on the beach, and at each turn she’d been proven mostly wrong.
“Was Lucy’s mom a live-in girlfriend?” Sarah guessed.
His jaw tightened. “No.”
“A fiancée?”
He snorted. “Wrong again.”
She knew she had no right to the information, but she couldn’t help wanting to know. “What is it then?” She stopped and crossed her arms. “Why don’t you just tell me what the situation is?”
He stopped too, and faced her. “Does it make a difference to you?”
This was obviously a sore spot with him.
“No!” she sputtered back. “Of course not.” But this did bring up a question she’d thought of, and it was relevant to her project with his daughter. “I saw part of Lucy’s application form last night. Her legal name is Lucy Logan? How can that be?”
“Because it’s what her mother decided to name her. I had no input.” He crossed his arms. “Can we stop with the personal questions now?”
“I’ll ask Lucy. She’ll tell me the scoop.”
He threw up his arms. “Why do I bother trying with you?” he exclaimed.
Wait, what? “What do you mean, trying?” she asked. “Am I that unlikable to you? I thought I did well last night. I thought your daughter was happy to work with me. I thought you were okay with our arrangement. I’m just trying to figure out all the angles of what that means.”
“You’re blunt, Sarah. You just...say what you think.”
“Well, I didn’t realize you were so sensitive.”
“I’m not. I’m private. There’s a difference.”
She started walking again, and he matched her pace. But he was breathing heavily, and he was a fit guy, so his panting wasn’t just from the exercise. Which brought up something else she’d been thinking about. “Sam, if you’re seeing anybody right now, as in a girlfriend, I would appreciate you telling me.”
“Why is that important?” he asked again.
“Because I am working with your daughter, so I’d like to know what I’m dealing with.”
“Really?” He peered at her. “Are you interested?”
“No!” She didn’t like his sarcasm. “I’m old enough to be your mother.”
He laughed at that. “You’re thirty-nine to my thirty-two.”
“Well, I’m forty on the fourth. I’ll be in a different decade from you.” She expected that to make him run away from her.
“Honestly?” He stopped walking. “July Fourth
is your birthday?”
She winced, regretting that she’d told him. “Yes,” she said reluctantly. “Independence Day.”
“Interesting.” He smiled, tilting his head. “Lucy’s birthday is four days after yours.”
She would have to remember that—Lucy was important to her. But Sam walked on, and she followed beside him, saying nothing.
They were quiet for a long time as they continued to trudge down the beach. Sarah listened to the wind settle around the sand dunes and tried to keep her mind clear. It was impossible, of course.
“What was bothering you last night at dinner?” Sam asked. “After Lucy joined us, I mean.”
“Nothing. I was glad she came down.”
“So, you’re okay with the three of us having meals like that occasionally?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” she snapped.
He glanced sideways at her. “You’re awfully touchy today.”
“As are you.”
“No, it’s different with me.” He was silent again. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but Cassandra told me a little about your background. Maybe I should have mentioned this before, but I know she left you in foster care.”
“What?” She stopped short. She couldn’t believe the audacity of it. “Cassandra has a big mouth. Why would she tell that to strangers? And Lucy...” Her voice trailed off. Tears were threatening, burning the edges of her eyes. This entire conversation was not at all what she’d intended.
How much does he know?
Most of what Lucy had said about Sarah’s past to Sam last night wasn’t in that business article. She’d had to have heard it from Cassandra’s lips. And still, Cassandra had done nothing to step in and rescue Sarah when she’d been a girl. In fact, Cassandra had deserted her a second time this summer.
Sarah sniffled suddenly, drawing her hand to her mouth. That small, unfortunate noise she’d made seemed to break Sam’s spell.
He put his hand on her shoulder, to her mortification. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“Then why did you?”
“I guess I was wondering why you really came to Wallis Point,” he said quietly. “You could have gone anywhere to learn to meditate. I’m wondering if deep down, you came here to confront Cassandra about it.”
Summer by the Sea Page 11
