Beside a Dreamswept Sea (13 page)

He tensed, unsure if it was at the intimacy of feeling her breasts brush against his arm or at her laughing. The latter more comfortable than the former, he frowned at her. “How can you find this funny?”

“It’s hilarious.” She reared, lifted her gaze to his, her eyes twinkling. “The angel knew he’d get into trouble again, so figured he might as well just stay put.” She patted at his sleeve, then smoothed her hand down it, elbow to wrist, her laughter lingering in her eyes. “Oh, he’s special, Bryce. Really special.”

“He is. But you’re missing my point.”

“Am I?” She cupped his chin in her hand. “You got preoccupied and forgot. Do you honestly think you’re the only parent in the world to do that, Bryce Richards? If so, you’re not only a stuffed shirt, but very arrogant.”

“Parents aren’t allowed arrogance. Or pride.” God, but he loved the feel of her hand on his beard. He’d confess the darkest secrets in his soul for a moment more of feeling her touch. He’d even let her get away with calling him a stuffed shirt, which he wasn’t, of course.

“You’ll need more evidence to convince me, Counselor. So far, all I see is a single father doing the best he can and stumbling now and then, as all humans do.”

“Evidence?” He swallowed hard. “No problem. How does getting caught red-handed at setting the stove timer back five minutes by a three-year-old suit you?”

“I’m not sure. Why is it significant?”

“We have quiet time. Thirty minutes of silence. Bliss. Every afternoon from three until three-thirty. It’d been a really rough day, and at three twenty-eight I just wasn’t ready for another round. I eased back the timer five minutes.”

“And Jeremy caught you?”

“Yes.” Bryce dipped his forehead to hers. “Suzie had been teaching him numbers and he knew eight was bigger than three. I felt like a jerk.”

“I think needing that five minutes was pretty human, too.” She shrugged. “Why didn’t you just tell the kids you needed another five minutes?”

He blinked, then blinked again. “I never thought of it.”

“After getting caught, I bet you will next time.”

“No doubt about it.” He grunted. “But you can see, I’m not the greatest parent. The kids need Mrs. Wiggins. She’s stable and—”

“As flexible as a brick wall. Honestly, Bryce, you love the kids and they love you. That’s what matters. Mistakes happen.”

“But my mistakes have Suzie on an analyst’s couch once a week and having nightmares every night. There are consequences.”

“Your pride really is strutting its stuff here, Counselor. Why are you so sure it’s your mistakes that are causing this with Suzie?”

“What else could it be?”

“Grief. Loneliness. Longing for a mother. It could be a million things that have nothing to do with you.”

“I appreciate your support, Cally, but I know in my gut I’m responsible. Whatever the reason, seeing to it that my daughter is emotionally healthy is my job. I’m flunking on a grand scale, and she’s paying the price.”

Cally hugged him, pressed her body against his, then held him for the longest time. His heart thumped against hers, and she rested her cheek on his shoulder. “Be gentle with you, Bryce,” she whispered, then backed away.

Tears shimmered in her eyes. Tears for him. Bryce swallowed hard. “You should have had a lot of kids.”

How she wished that she could’ve. “Gregory never came around, or I would have.” She smiled but there was no humor in it. “The only thing my mentioning adoption ever got me was more time alone.” Had that been when Gregory had started his affair with Joleen?

“Why do women so often talk in riddles?”

“Sorry.” She tucked her hair behind her shoulder. “If I brought the subject of adoption up, then Gregory would punish me by staying at the hospital overnight. Near the time we formally separated, it was unusual for him to spend more than a night a week at home.”

Bryce looked stricken, and maybe a little angry, too. “I’m sorry, Cally.”

She loved him for that anger. “I should’ve left him long before I did. Things weren’t right. I knew it. Then they got worse. But by then I believed I didn’t deserve better. And I was so afraid of failing out on my own.”

“And maybe concerned at what your family would think, and your friends.”

Her pride had been stomped to death a long time ago. She let out a self-deprecating laugh. “For the last couple years, the only pride I’ve had has come out of a perfume bottle. I’m into symbols. There’s a flower that symbolizes pride, so I wear perfume made from it.” She shrugged. “I figure everyone ought to have a little, and we get what we need where we find it.”

“I wish I knew what to say.” He wished he hadn’t understood what she’d meant.

“You don’t have to say anything.” She tossed down the stone then swiped her hand against her thigh, brushing off the grains of sand. They pattered on the spill of leaves blanketing the ground, and the memory of that final heated argument with Gregory nagged at her. It’d been wicked.

She went quiet, buried the memory and the anger of it, too. When she thought she had her emotions under control, she added, “I accepted his sterility, Bryce. I truly didn’t hold it against him, or stop loving him because of it. I can feel good about me for that.”

His hand on her cheek, he tilted her face to look at her, eye to eye. “You can feel good about you for a lot of reasons.”

Her eyes burned. It was the wind. Definitely the wind, and not Bryce’s words or the tender look in his eyes. Her chin trembled. “You’re a very kind man.”

“Not really. Really I’m ruthless—unless…”

“Unless?”

He gave her a charming smile, let his fingertips steal over her lower lip. “Unless you only kiss admittedly ruthless but kind men.” He dropped his voice to just above a whisper. “Do you?”

She wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to. “I don’t know. The situation’s never come up.”

“It has now.” He let his thumb slide over her cheek, follow the rim of her jaw from chin to ear. “Could you check?”

Oh, God. “I, um, guess it would depend on why this admittedly ruthless but kind man wanted to kiss me.”

His voice went husky. “What if he said he hasn’t really kissed a woman since his wife died, and he’s curious to see if kissing is like riding a bike?”

“Sounds awfully experimental and one-sided to me.”

“Or he could say you have the most tempting mouth he’s seen in a long time, and if he doesn’t kiss it soon, he thinks he might die.”

“Serious stuff.” He wasn’t smiling anymore, and neither was she. “But I’m afraid I’ve sworn off serious stuff. Bad for a body’s emotional health.”

“Or he could say he’s lonely, Cally.” Bryce clasped her upper arms, curled his fingertips in the sleeves of her sweater. “He’s so . . . damn lonely. And just for a minute he’d like not to feel lonely anymore.”

An echoing chord thrummed deep inside her. She knew loneliness. God, but did she know it. Hate it. Resent it. Fear it.

If only one has the courage to believe, miracles can happen beside a dreamswept sea.

Suzie’s words, her message, flitted through Cally’s mind. But why now? Courage to believe? A potential miracle? Cally squeezed her eyes shut, trembling with more fear than she’d felt the day Gregory announced he was divorcing her. She’d given him everything, ended up with nothing. What more did she have to lose?

The spark.
She was the sunshine of our home.
That flicker of a spark.

Courage. Courage. Miracles.

She opened her eyes, looked straight into Bryce’s. “Under those conditions, I’d have to say he’d better kiss me, then. I wouldn’t want a kind man’s missing a momentary respite from loneliness on my conscience—whether or not he’s admittedly ruthless. And especially not a man responsible for three beautiful kids.”

Had she lost her mind?
Recant! Recant!

She wanted to, but couldn’t. Her insides had gone molten, yet her pride insisted she
do
something. “But I’d also have to say that he could kiss me only once.”

“Only once?” He released her left arm, cupped her nape under the fall of her hair.

She nodded, trembling inside. Grateful she was already sitting for fear her legs wouldn’t support her. “I loved one man totally and completely. He broke my heart.”

“And you don’t want your heart broken again.” Bryce dragged his thumb from the soft hollow behind her ear, down her nape.

She shivered in response. “No, I don’t. Not now. Not ever again.”

“Ruthless but kind loved a woman, too, Cally. Totally and completely, with all his heart.”

“And she died.”

“Yes.” He swallowed hard. “She died.”

“I’m sorry.” Simple words, but ones carrying a wealth of feeling. He’d loved Meriam deeply, as much as Cally once had loved Gregory. At least Meriam had loved Bryce back. And yet, both he and Cally had ended up alone.

Now both of them were lonely.

Sharing this pain, Cally lifted her hands, then wrapped them around his neck.

He scooted through the grass and sand, closer. “If we’re only going to do this once, I want to do it right.” Circling her back with his left hand, he rested his right one on her sweater at her ribs.

The warmth from his palm seeped through her clothes and heated her skin. Her heart thumped a staccato beat, pounding out waves of uncertainty. Gregory had stopped making love to her. Had stopped finding her physically attractive long before their final separation. She’d grown repugnant to him. And, even for a respite from loneliness, she didn’t think she could bear to see that indifference then distaste for her in the eyes of a gentle man like Bryce Richards. “Wait!”

“I can’t, Cally.” He dipped his chin. “I would if I could, but I . . . can’t.” He pressed his lips to hers.

Cally stiffened. She couldn’t do it. She wanted to, but she couldn’t. He’d turn away, and she’d feel as vulnerable and undesirable and as ugly as she’d felt before. God, but she hated feeling ugly. She hated feeling any of those things. She hated . . . feeling. Feeling brought pain. And responsibility for pain. That responsibility had to be denied or accepted, and either choice brought more pain. Agony. Despair.

“Kiss me, Cally,” Bryce whispered against her lips. He pulled her closer into the warmth of his arms. “Please.”

The longing in his voice conspired with the longing inside her and she pressed her mouth to his. Lips parting, he gently invaded her mouth, brushing their tongues. Her breath caught, his heart beat hard against her breasts and, certain she’d later regret this, she couldn’t resist the lure of being held by a man who wanted nothing more than to hold her, to touch her, to share with her a tender moment and a gentle kiss. She couldn’t resist him any more than she’d been able to resist making that turn onto Sea Haven Highway. Letting the sensations come, she welcomed the joy in the moment. Felt it seep past her fears, deep inside, and she prayed that, if only for this moment, that joy would rinse the hurt from her heart.

Hattie looked through
the mullioned windows at the end of the hallway, out onto the cliffs. Cally and Bryce had walked first toward the village, then back toward the inn. When they’d walked past the driveway leading up to the inn, she’d smiled. Now, looking at Bryce holding Cally in his arms, kissing her, Hattie felt her heart ready to burst. “Oh, Tony.” She snagged her lace-edged hankie from her pocket, then dabbed at her eyes. “Isn’t it just the most wonderful thing? They’ve chosen our tree. Of all the places . . . our tree.”

A sourceless breeze whisked over her skin.