By the Book

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By the Book Page 8

by Kay Lyons


  A small smile broke over her face and she averted her gaze.

  “Let’s just say that wasn’t how I expected the first kiss after my husband to go. I mean, the people and cameras and craziness.”

  “I hope it wasn’t too unpleasant for you.”

  A rosy hue flooded her cheeks. “Fishing for compliments?”

  “Maybe I am.”

  “It wasn’t awful,” she said, her tone teasing.

  A laugh bubbled out of her at his expression and he welcomed the sound.

  “It was very nice, Denz.”

  Nice? Nice was the kiss of death. Was very nice different? “Well, you let me know if you decide you want to practice some more. Get it perfected for next time.”

  “Next time?” she asked, eyes wide.

  “That way you won’t be nervous when you do decide to start dating again,” he said, his gaze shifting to the screen door as her son burst out of the house.

  Claire stepped back, cheeks rosy, and told them to be careful, waving after they climbed into his SUV.

  “So,” Denz said as he got them rolling. “Did you apologize to your mom?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And?”

  “She said I have to go back to grief counseling.”

  “That’s not a bad idea.”

  “It’s just a bunch of losers talking about feelings and sharing how they suck.”

  “That sounds a little harsh,” Denz said to the kid. “Would it help to know I’ve sat in a session or two myself?”

  “You have?”

  He nodded as he made the stops and turns to get them out of the little neighborhood. “The military uses counselors. And after shootings and the like, private security companies like I work for use them to make sure their guys are ready to get back in the field. So, yeah, I have.”

  “Did it help?”

  He drove them to Dow and headed toward the far end of the island. “Yeah. It did. You just have to have an open mind.”

  Tommy stared out his window, quiet for a time.

  “Would you let me get on my game and see if my friends are there?”

  “No.” He shot the kid a look. “Not without your mom’s permission.”

  Tommy shifted in the bucket seat, looking glum.

  “I’m sorry I hurt her, you know. It’s just I knew where she’d put it, and it’s nice to talk to my dad’s friends. They tell me stories about him.”

  “Your mom doesn’t do that?”

  “Not really. I don’t want to make her sad, so I don’t ask. I hear her crying sometimes,” he said, face turned to the window. “I want to help her but I don’t know how.”

  That was a big admission from a kid in pain. A kid who wanted to be a man but wasn’t. “The best way you can help her is to stay out of trouble. You realize that, right?”

  “I guess. I don’t mean to get into trouble, it just sort of happens.”

  Denz chuckled. “That kind of stuff usually happens when you’re not where you’re supposed to be, doing what you’re supposed to be doing.”

  “Do you like my mom?”

  The change in topic was so abrupt Denz’s first instinct was to lie. “Uh, yeah. I like her fine.”

  “That’s not what I meant. The date to the wedding… Is it really a date?”

  “Not as far as your mom is concerned.” Denz was glad to see the building housing the gym up ahead.

  “So she doesn’t know you like her?”

  “Why all the questions?”

  “Because she’s my mom. Are you going to tell her?”

  He didn’t have to think long on that one. “I’m a friend, Tommy. That’s all.”

  “But you like her?”

  “Tommy, being an adult, being a man and a productive member of society,” Denz said pointedly, “means looking out for others, even if it means not getting what you want. I…like your mom,” he admitted, “but she needs something I can’t give her.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  His grip tightened on the steering wheel. “It means she needs someone to lean on and help her while she figures things out.”

  “But you just said you’re her friend.”

  “Yeah, I am but—”

  “So isn’t that what a friend does?”

  Chapter 16

  Claire spent the next hour or so fine-tuning her resume and searching online for jobs, but when it came to applying, she couldn’t make herself hit the button. Should she apply here…or in Virginia?

  Since that was the mental debate taking place, she knew she couldn’t put off talking to her father any longer, though she wasn’t sure how to bring it up.

  A long walk through the neighborhood brought back memories and longings for a return to the area where she’d grown up, but before she made the final decision, she needed to settle some things.

  Near the pier, Claire decided to call her real estate friend to see if she’d had a chance to take a look at the house. The discussion hit the highlights and pointed toward a sale, furthering Claire’s thoughts toward moving back to Carolina Cove.

  She found a spot on one of the swings and stared out at the ocean, letting the soothing sounds of the surf and the birds flow through her.

  Moving was always a big deal, but moving to another state, into a new school, was infinitely more difficult than simply moving to a new neighborhood. But as her friend had told her, the market was hot now, but that could change as quickly as the economy. She needed to decide, the sooner the better.

  Claire finished her drink and tossed her cup in the trash before heading back to the house. Ten minutes later, she entered the living room, and Tommy was nowhere to be seen. “They’re not back yet?”

  “Not yet.”

  “That’s good, actually.”

  “Oh? Why’s that?”

  She hesitated and shifted her weight from foot to foot. “Dad, um, there’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”

  Her father clicked off the television and gave her his full attention, even though he was stretched out in his favorite recliner.

  “Um, so I’ve been thinking about something. A-about selling the house and moving. Maybe…moving here.”

  “Why?”

  She blinked at him. “Why?”

  “Are you just wanting to move back, or are things that bad financially?”

  A huff of air left her lungs at her father’s intuitiveness. It wouldn’t do her any good to blame Scott, not now. She had to own her part, which included not arguing harder against the purchases they hadn’t been able to afford. Sixty-thousand-dollar trucks and Jeeps, the homes, Harley… “The, uh, house has a lot of equity. I talked to a friend in real estate, and she thinks I could get enough out of it to pay off all my debt,” she said honestly. “Also, there’s Tommy.”

  “What about Tommy? Is something wrong with him?”

  “What? No, nothing’s wrong with him, it’s just… I told you Tommy hasn’t been able to find his groove since Scott was killed, and I think he needs a solid male role model. I thought maybe you’d like to spend more time with him.”

  “He is at that age,” her father said with a nod.

  “Right. So, yeah, that’s what I’m thinking. You know, if you wouldn’t mind us moving here.”

  “Why would I mind?”

  She inhaled and seated herself on the edge of the coffee table. Why? Did he hear his tone of voice? “Because there are times when I think you hate me, Dad.”

  “Don’t be silly.”

  “Hate is hardly something to joke about.”

  Her father swung the reclining footrest in with a bang and shot out of the chair. He stalked into the kitchen and then turned to glare at her.

  “You know good and well I don’t hate you. You’re my daughter and you’re welcome here any time.”

  “You mean we were welcome to stay in the apartment?” she asked, clarifying.

  “That again? Claire, you should’ve called first if it bothers you so much to stay here in the
house with me.”

  “Dad, that’s not what I meant.”

  “Don’t know why I’m surprised you don’t like it when you made it clear at seventeen that you couldn’t stand—”

  “Oh, for the love of— Enough! Dad, that was fourteen years ago! Scott was the father of my baby and I was in love. Did you really expect me to stay?”

  “Yes! Yes, I did! I expected you to use the brains God gave you.”

  “To raise Tommy alone?”

  “You wouldn’t have been alone. Your mother and I would’ve helped you.”

  “But Scott was his father. Scott wanted to be a father and you… Dad, you wanted to control my life and I couldn’t let you. Give me some credit for being like you in that way.”

  “That boy took you away from us and then abandoned you.”

  “He deployed, Dad, not abandoned. Big difference.”

  Her father wiped a hand over his head and paced the floor.

  “You should’ve stayed with us instead of dragging that baby all over the country.”

  “I wanted to be with my husband.”

  “You broke your mother’s heart. She never got to see much of Tommy, and now here you are talking about moving back—something she always dreamed you’d do—and she’s not even here to see it.”

  Her father’s voice cracked with emotion, and the impact hit Claire in the very depths of her soul.

  She shoved herself up off the coffee table and stood on trembling legs. “I know. And I’m sorry for that. But it’s not too late for you to know Tommy and help influence his life—unless you keep acting like this, in which case I might as well stay in Virginia.”

  She turned to head outside, needing fresh air and space and the soothing sounds of the waves crashing in the distance.

  “Claire.”

  She squeezed her eyes closed and paused on the tile floor, waiting for another barrage. “What?”

  “I’d like it if you were closer. I hope you and Tommy do move back. You can use the apartment once Denz goes back to work in a week or two. It’s yours for as long as you need it.”

  “Thank you.”

  “No need to thank me. I’m sorry I made you feel unwelcome. I just didn’t like losing my baby girl to someone I knew couldn’t take care of her. Not the way I could.”

  Her shoulders slumped, and she wished for the millionth time that her father understood her reasons for doing what she’d done. “Scott did his best, Dad. Tommy and I never lacked for anything. He was a great father and a good soldier. He was a good man—not perfect but good. Isn’t that all that matters?”

  “We didn’t like losing our baby girl,” he said, his voice gruff.

  “That’s just it, Dad. You didn’t lose me. You gained a son and a grandson.”

  Her father was silent a long moment.

  “Will selling the house help settle your accounts? Do you need to borrow money?”

  “Yes, it will—and, no, I don’t need money but thanks. Once it sells, everything will be fine.”

  “You’ll let me know if I can help you?”

  She swallowed hard and managed a smile. “I will. Right now the biggest problem will be telling Tommy. He knows I’ve been thinking about it and… He’s not happy about leaving his friends.”

  “You have to do what’s best for the two of you. You can’t let a boy decide that.”

  “I know.”

  “Do you want me to talk to him?”

  “No. I’ll tell him.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yeah. I’m sure. Thanks. For letting us use the apartment.” Claire turned and made her way through the kitchen to the screen door, uncaring that it softly banged behind her.

  She paced the porch several times before finally settling into the porch swing, giving it a rough push.

  Lights flashed in the driveway and Denz’s rental appeared. It was dusk, and she dreaded dinnertime spent at the table because she was emotionally drained once more.

  Maybe she should splurge and take Tommy out to eat? But how did that treat factor into Tommy’s most recent bad behavior? Would it be a red flag to him that would send him into a mood?

  Doors slammed shut and she watched Tommy approach. Her gaze narrowed, taking in the rare smile that flashed over his face in response to something Denz said. Her son was sweat-soaked and visibly tired, but…happy? “Look at you. I take it things went well?”

  “Yeah. Denz introduced me to someone named Mac. He’s one of the owners, and Mac got me a pass so I can go workout whenever, and I joined the youth weightlifting program.”

  She blinked. “Mac Jones?”

  “Yeah, that’s him. He’s great…and the program is for kids my age,” Tommy said.

  “It’s monitored,” Denz added softly. “The guys are all volunteers. Firemen, law enforcement. They teach the kids proper form and how to do things the right way. It’s a great way to get to know some other kids on the island.”

  “Yeah,” Tommy said again. “If it’s okay, I’m going to meet a couple of them tomorrow to hang out and surf.”

  “Uh, maybe,” she said, knowing the local kids surfed in groups but struggling with the concept of Tommy suddenly being one of them.

  “I’m gonna go shower. I stink. Is dinner soon?”

  “Go. I’ll make sure something is ready when you get out,” she said, completely blown away by her talkative son. He hadn’t said that many words since…

  Before his dad’s death.

  Tommy went into the house with a bang of the door, and Denz stayed where he was, just off the porch.

  “I should go shower, too. Have a good evening, Claire.”

  One minute she was on the swing, the next she was up and rushing toward him in a repeat of the movie scene on the beach.

  Denz heard her and turned in time to catch her against him, and she lifted her arms to pull his head low, lifting her face, her lips, to kiss him.

  This kiss was different. Freer. With no one around and no cameras rolling, she pressed her lips to his and put every ounce of thankfulness and warmth she felt into the embrace. Lingering over the caress.

  Denz wrapped one arm around her waist and lifted her up, carrying her until her feet hit the steps and she found her footing. She smiled against his lips, realizing he’d leveled their heights.

  The kissing continued until a light flicked on in the darkened house behind them, and she pulled away, biting her lower lip as she stared at him.

  Denz tilted his head, gaze narrowed on her. Tall and strong and silent. Sexy.

  “What was that for?” he asked softly.

  “F-for helping Tommy.”

  “He’s a good kid.”

  “He is. I haven’t seen him that happy and carefree in…ages.”

  “Claire?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “That’s the best thank you I’ve ever gotten.”

  She couldn’t stop the smile from forming. “I, um, should get inside and get something ready for Tommy. Do you have food? Would you like to join us?”

  That was the polite thing to do, wasn’t it? Invite someone for dinner? Even though technically dinner usually came first, then the kissing. She would think about the consequences of what she’d done later, but for now, she was okay with it. After all, what harm was a thank-you kiss when they’d already shared one on the set?

  “I need a shower.”

  “Of course.”

  “Ten minutes?”

  Realizing he’d just accepted her invitation, she nodded. “Yeah.”

  “I’ll be in soon.”

  She watched him turn and go, his long strides carrying him rapidly across the lawn to the stairs leading up to the apartment.

  She turned and placed her hand on the screen door to open it but paused when the awareness of what she’d done kicked in.

  She’d kissed Denz. As a thank-you and because she’d wanted to. And it had felt good.

  But what
happened now?

  Chapter 17

  Denz wasn’t sure what to expect when he arrived at the house post shower. Claire’s kiss had surprised him, but it wasn’t an unpleasant one, especially not when he thought about Tommy’s words about being her friend.

  Claire was a smart woman. She knew his job, knew his situation and presence in town were temporary. If she was okay with kissing him, he certainly wasn’t going to stop her. He didn’t know a man who would.

  He grabbed a bottle of wine on his way out the door to take as a gift because it seemed to be the thing to do when invited to dinner. On the porch, he tamped down a surprising case of nerves that appeared out of nowhere, reminding him of the time he’d asked Rachel Tolliver to the sixth-grade dance.

  On the one hand, he could take Claire’s kiss at face value. She had been grateful that he’d helped out Tommy, and she’d expressed her thanks physically.

  On the other hand, he could take it as a sign the filmed kiss had stirred up interest, and she used her happiness as an excuse to explore the potential.

  But if that was the case… He wasn’t sure how he felt about it given the living arrangement he had with her father. Especially when Tom would undoubtedly frown at a relationship that could only be casual since Denz would be leaving to head back to work very soon.

  “Hey, almost ready,” she said after Denz knocked and opened the screen door.

  He let himself inside and noted Tom’s bushy eyebrows shooting high at the sight of the gift. “You’ve fed me a few times, so I wanted to contribute something,” he said simply.

  “Thanks. That’ll go great with the steaks,” she said. “Dad just put them on the grill.”

  “Hey, Denz, are you going to the gym tomorrow?” Tommy asked as he walked down the hallway.

  “Tommy, I’m sure Denz doesn’t want to be your chauffeur,” she said.

  “I am,” Denz said to Tommy, “and it’s fine,” he said to Claire. “Any time I’m heading that way, he’s welcome to go with me. How about that?”

  Both mother and son smiled at him while Denz sensed Tom’s stare.

  Dinner was delicious. Tom knew how to perfectly grill a steak, and along with fresh veggies, dinner rolls, and pudding Claire whipped up for dessert, Denz ate his fill. He enjoyed listening to Tommy tell his mother about the kids he’d met at the gym and sensed Claire’s happiness as her kid kept the conversation from ever lagging.

 

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