The Sweetheart Rules (24 page)

Damn.

He turned and placed her at the edge of the water, where the ocean
swoosh
ed in and out against her ankles and her toes sank in the damp, white sand. “Then I won’t throw you to the sharks.”

“Phew.” She laughed, then bent down and splashed a spray of water his way. “That’s for almost throwing me in the water.”

“Oh, is that how you thank me?” He laughed, then scooped up some water. Diana shrieked and ran down the beach, her long legs striding through the water with ease. He gave chase, and before he knew it, the dogs and the girls had joined in, one raucous circle splashing in and out of the water’s edge. They laughed, they splashed, they swam, and then they all collapsed on the sandy blanket and lay under the warm, bright sun.

“Daddy?” Ellie said, curling onto his chest, her wet bathing suit cold against his side. Her voice was sleepy, her eyes drooping. “I had fun. Lots of fun.”

“Me too, angel, me too.” He rubbed her forehead, then lay back and enjoyed the sun and the feel of his daughter dozing in his arms. Diana lay on his other side, holding his hand, while Jenny lay beside Ellie, cuddled up to Cinderella and Mary. The dogs’ tails wagged slow and easy, echoing the happiness of the humans.

It was as close to perfect as life could get. Mike didn’t want the day with Diana to end, this time with his daughters to end. But end it would. He had a commitment to the Coast Guard, and that wasn’t going to disappear just because he wanted to stay on this beach forever. Maybe once he got back to Alaska it would be easier. He’d slip into the regimented life there and it would ease the pain of separating from the girls, Diana, this place.

Yeah, maybe not. The month here had changed him in fundamental ways, and he doubted all the order and schedules in the world could undo that.

“Are you thinking about Alaska?” Diana asked, reading his mind.

“Yeah.”

“About going back?”

“I have to. Property of the U.S. government.” He tried a smile, but she didn’t return the gesture.

Without a word, Diana got to her feet and padded down the soft sand to the water. Mike extricated himself from the sleeping girls and followed her down to the water. She had tugged on her shirt again, and the soft fabric skimmed her hips, giving him enticing peeks of her bikini bottom.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. Just… trying to figure some things out.”

“You want to talk about it?”

“I’m good.” She wrapped her arms around herself and kept her gaze on the ocean. She might as well have built a wall between them.

“So we’re back to where we started.”

She pivoted toward him. The breeze caught her hair and flipped a long lock across her cheek. “What do you mean? Nothing changed from before, Mike. You’re not settling down and we’re not staying together. All this”—she waved toward the beach, the sleeping dogs and children—“was a blip in our lives. One of those bittersweet memories we’ll have. Nothing more.”

“What if I didn’t want it to be a bittersweet memory? What if I wanted more?”

She shook her head. “Don’t. Don’t do this. Don’t complicate my life right now.”

“What are you so afraid of?” She was so like him, this fragile, steely woman who wouldn’t let anyone in, who was afraid of opening the door to her soul. She’d said she trusted him, but clearly that only applied to him not throwing her in the ocean.

“I’m not afraid of anything,” she said. “I just have a lot on my plate right now, and I don’t need to add anything to that list.”

“Anything like a relationship.” He let out a curse and turned away. Every time they started to travel the same path, she threw up a roadblock. Damn it, he didn’t want this summer to be a bittersweet memory. He wanted to keep moving forward with her, to see where this would lead. To jump off the cliff and see if they’d land in the same happy place as Luke and Olivia. “I want more than just today, Diana.”

“The no-expectations, no-strings guy is doing a one-eighty? Back in January, you made it very clear you weren’t the kind to settle down, and like a fool, I…” She bit her lip, and shook her head. “I fell for you anyway.”

The hurt in her voice sliced through his heart. Was that why she wouldn’t open up to him now? Was she afraid he would hurt her again? Leave her some cold note and break her heart? “I was a jerk, Diana. I kept telling myself the best thing I could do was make a clean, even break. I never expected that you would fall for me, or that I… I would fall for you.”

She chuffed. “You didn’t fall for me. You made that very clear.”

“I lied.” He caught her chin, and waited for her to meet his gaze. The water made gentle swirls around their ankles, and the gulls circled above, letting out sharp cries like warnings. “I lied to you, and I lied to myself. Hell, I’ve been lying to myself most of my life. It was easier to do that than to accept the fact that I was scared shitless that I was going to screw up a marriage and kids, like my mother did when she married my stepfather. And guess what? I did exactly that. I married a woman I didn’t love, had two kids I didn’t pay attention to, and then left town after I had a one-night stand with an amazing woman I did love.”

“Mike, don’t do this.” She jerked away from him and strode into the water until the sea kissed her knees. “I’m not what you think. I’m not this superwoman single mom.”

“Nobody’s perfect, I know that. But you’re a good—”

“Stop telling me I’m a good anything, Mike!” She cursed and shook her head. “You don’t know me.”

“That’s because you don’t
let
me know you. I get so far, and then you put up a wall and stop me from getting any closer. You told me you loved me back in January.” He came around in front of her. “How can you love someone if you don’t let them into your heart a hundred percent?”

“Don’t…” She swiped away a tear. “Don’t do this.”

“Don’t tell you how I feel? You know what I just realized? I’m not the one afraid of settling down.
You
are. You’re so damned terrified that you run at the mere mention of a relationship. I told you everything about me, but you… you’ve kept so much of yourself back. I want all of you, Diana, not just the pretty parts you show the rest of the world.” He saw the walls in her eyes, the ones that provided a fierce protection against hurt, like they were a fictional dragon guarding the castle.

“I just… I don’t open up easily,” she said.

“You don’t open up at all. You keep it all bottled up in here”—he pressed a finger to her chest—“because you figure that if you keep everything under control, then all those fears and shortcomings won’t rear their ugly heads. I got news for you, sweetheart: control is a fiction we create for ourselves. It’s a lie I’ve told myself for a long damned time. Too long.” He looked back at the two little girls asleep on the blanket a few feet away. He’d almost missed out on them because he’d let those same fears rule his life.

“Mike, it’s not so easy for me. I’ve been alone a long time and it’s… it’s hard to trust anyone.”

“Earlier you said you trusted me,” he said, raising a hand to her jaw. “Prove it.”

Her green eyes begged him not to push her, to just leave it alone. “Mike…”

“I want the expectations and strings, Diana. I want the whole enchilada. When you’re ready for the same thing, and to be truly open and honest with me”—he dropped his hand—“you know where I am.”

Diana had buried herself in work for two days. She’d straightened the office, organized the files, set up the renovated kennel areas for new residents, and generally done whatever she could to make the days pass and keep herself from thinking.

Yeah, it didn’t work. If anything, her mind wandered ten times more when she was doing busywork.

She worried about her son. Wondered where Mike was. If he had left for Alaska yet. If he was thinking about her.

And she thought a lot about what he had said to her that day on the beach. All along, she’d told herself it was he who had the commitment problem.

Back in January, maybe he had been the one shying away from anything more permanent than a one-night stand, but now, he was right—she was doing the same thing.

All her life, she’d thought she was just waiting for the right man to come along. Told herself she’d met a lot of losers who didn’t want anything more than a good time. Sean had epitomized the kind of guy Diana chose—charming and fickle.

Mike was a different breed. He was intense and strong and determined. He had this innate ability to see past the facade she kept in place for the rest of the world.

Dropping that curtain meant telling the truth—that she had failed her own child not once, but twice. She had done everything right—made the meals, cleaned the clothes—but not done the hardest part.

Talked to her son.

That’s what she did best—her sister had pointed it out, Mike had pointed it out. She avoided the hard subjects and procrastinated on the difficult conversations. If she had sat down with Jackson and told him about her past alcoholism, would it have provided the warning she wanted? If she had been honest with Jackson about his father, rather than always making excuses and covering for Sean’s irresponsibility, would he have headed off the other night?

She wasn’t sure. But what she did know was that doing things the way she’d always done them wasn’t working. At all.

Because deep down inside, she wanted the whole enchilada, too. The marriage. The white picket fence, the twin rockers on the porch in their old age. The trouble was crossing the divide between where she was now and where she wanted to be.

She flipped open her cell phone, made a call, then cleared her schedule for the rest of the day. It was her first step in what Diana prayed was the right direction.

A little after four, Frank arrived at her office as promised, wearing the same suit as before. It had to be ninety-five degrees outside, and she couldn’t understand why he didn’t choose something more comfortable. His lined face carried trepidation and tentative hope. He’d combed his gray hair away from his face, and shaved so recently Diana could see a red nick under his jaw. He had kind, soft eyes, a lighter green than her own, that set her at ease and told her he was just as nervous as she was.

“I ordered in some dinner,” she said, gesturing toward the takeout on her desk. “I worked straight through lunch today and I thought you might be hungry, too.”

“I can always eat.” He patted his stomach and gave her a grin. “Thank you.”

They sat on either side of her desk and traded off boxes of Chinese food. She discovered her father was as big a fan of General Tso’s chicken as she was, and that he always put salt on his fried rice, just like she did. Frank was a thoughtful man who didn’t rush his meals or his conversations. She could see why Bridget, who had been spontaneous, hyper, and passionate, might have fallen for someone who brought a measure of calm balance to her life.

But what Diana still didn’t know or understand was why her father had waited so long to meet her. As a mother, Diana couldn’t imagine waiting five minutes to meet her child.

“That was great. Thank you again,” Frank said.

“You’re welcome.” She put her plate to the side and crumpled her napkin into the trash. Silence extended between them, filling the small office with heavy air. She was the one who had wanted this, who had waited so long for this moment, for the answers, and yet a part of her didn’t want to go beyond sharing takeout.

“Why did you wait so many years to see me?” The question was out before she could stop it, but Frank seemed to take it in stride, as if he’d been expecting it. “You said you needed time before you saw me. But why?”

“I wanted to wait. I wanted to”—he let out a breath and cast his gaze toward the ceiling—“be a father you could be proud of.”

“You’re a broker on Wall Street. Of course I’m proud of that.”

“I
was
a broker. I lost my job.”

She waved that off. “That happens to lots of people. The economy is rebounding, I’m sure you’ll find another.”

He looked down at his hands for a long time, then seemed to reach some kind of decision deep in his heart. He raised his gaze to hers, and in those eyes that were so much like her own, Diana saw resignation, sorrow, and apology. “I lost my job twenty-five years ago and I’ve been mostly unemployed since then. But that wasn’t why I didn’t come see you. Why it took me the better part of three decades to work up the courage to come down here.” He paused again and his gaze went to the wall, away from her. “I’m an addict, Diana.”

“A… what?” Then the pieces filled in on the puzzle, and everything made sense. The years of silence, the distance between them, the discomfort Frank had with the world she took for granted. All these years she’d been so angry with her mother for keeping Frank’s identity a secret, when maybe Bridget had just been protecting her daughter from heartbreak. “An addict?”

He let out a long, slow breath, as if shedding a great weight. “When I was in college, I started doing drugs to keep up with the schedule and my job and everything else. It was crazy. Going to classes, interning at a brokerage firm, studying for tests, and trying to have a social life. I couldn’t keep up with it all. By the time I graduated, I needed the speed to get through the day. When your mom found out, she left me. She said she’d be back if and when I got myself straightened out.”

Her mother had never said a word. Maybe deep in her heart, Bridget had loved Frank and hadn’t wanted to smudge his image in Diana’s eyes. Whenever she’d asked about her father, Bridget had always said he lived far away and maybe someday he’d come back. “And did you get straightened out?”

“Took me twenty years, but yeah, I did. At least the sober part. The rest”—he let out a little laugh—“is a work in progress. I’ve been living on the streets for so long, it’s hard to go back to being a normal person, though the last few days in the motel have begun to remind me of what it’s like to have a bed, a roof over my head. At first, I wanted to sleep outside, or on the floor, but now I’ve kind of adapted. Found my groove again, I guess. I still have a long ways to go.” He patted his jacket, then put out his hands. “I don’t own this suit; I don’t own that car. Everything I do own fits in a couple grocery bags. I borrowed all of it, so that I could impress you.”

“You… you’re homeless?” Of all the things she’d expected him to say, that hadn’t even made the list.

The answer shone in the embarrassment that crept into his cheeks. “That’s why I waited so long to see you. I wanted to…” He threw up his hands. “I wanted to be more than I am. You’ve made me so proud, becoming this amazing veterinarian and a mother, and just so successful… you’re everything I imagined and more.”

She shook her head and swiped at the tears that sprang to her eyes. She bit her lip, her throat clogged, the words caught.

“I’m sorry, Diana. This was probably a bad idea. I’m sorry I lied to you and I’m sorry I disappointed you.” He started to get to his feet.

She reached for his hand, her father’s hand, and thought how odd that it felt strange yet familiar, as if she’d known him all her life. “You didn’t need to borrow a suit or a car to impress me. All I wanted to do was get to know you. I don’t care if you work on Wall Street or live on Wall Street. I just wanted… a chance to know my father. Don’t go, Dad. Please.”

Surprise lit his features. He hesitated a moment longer, his gaze dropping to her hand on his. A tentative smile wobbled on his face, and he sat back down. She hadn’t even realized she was going to call him
Dad
until she did. The word had slipped from her tongue as easy as riding a bike. It felt natural, right.

If the roles had been reversed, she might have waited years to see her child, too. She understood that shame, that burden of the secret of being a former addict. She knew how people looked at her differently when they knew, with that judging, are-you-going-to-fail again look. Not everyone, but enough people to keep Diana from talking about her past.

“I’m not what you think, either,” she said, taking a deep breath before she forged forward and peeled away the layers protecting her deepest secrets. This was what she hadn’t told Mike or Jackson, because she couldn’t take the recrimination that would surely show in their eyes. That fear was what had made her keep a bottle in a cabinet instead of facing her problems in the open. Maybe taking a step into the light would ease the guilt that held her heart in a vise. “When I was fourteen, I was pretty much always in trouble. Going to parties, skipping school. Mom… well, she was busy with the shelter and everything, and when she was with those animals…”

“People took second place.” He nodded his understanding.

“Yeah.” Her mother had a big heart, but most of the time, that heart had gone to the innocent and helpless animals she rescued, instead of to her family. As a vet, Diana could understand and sympathize, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. “I fell in with the wrong crowd, started drinking, and got pregnant at fifteen. I quit, relapsed, quit again, and stayed sober for fifteen years. But then a few days ago, things kind of fell apart and I came close to drinking again.” She closed her eyes and thought of that night in the kitchen. If the dog hadn’t brushed up against her, if she hadn’t called Olivia… “Very, very close.”

“Everybody falls.” Frank reached for her hand and held tight. “It’s whether you get up again or not.”

“We both fell and got up again.” She let out a little laugh. “We’re more alike than we ever knew.”

“Is it enough to build a relationship on, to move forward from here?” Frank’s face filled with hope.

“It is to me, Dad.” A smile extended between them, mirrors of each other. The tension evaporated, and seconds later they were talking, laughing, and filling in the gaps of thirty years, one word at a time.

 • • • 

Mike caved thirty minutes into the drive. He blamed his lack of resistance on a distracted mind, focused on that afternoon at the beach with Diana. She hadn’t called, hadn’t come by, and though it had taken every ounce of his self-control, he had stayed away, too.

He missed her with a deep, burning fierceness. She’d become a part of his life, this complicated, frustrating, engaging woman who had asked more from him than anyone he knew. Now he’d asked the same of her—for her to open up, to trust, and to take that leap of faith that a real relationship required.

Didn’t mean he had everything figured out yet. He was still a flight mechanic in the Coast Guard, stationed in Alaska, with kids living in Georgia and a woman he loved in Florida. Either he needed to come up with a new career path or figure out how to teletransport. If only
Star Trek
were real.

Ellie and Jenny sat in the backseat, flipping through the pile of new books he’d picked up for them. He’d gone a little nuts at the bookstore, loading each of the girls down with at least a dozen books each. Okay, maybe closer to two dozen each. They’d hit a toy store after that, where he’d outfitted two Barbie dolls and bought a whole stack of friends for Teddy, along with coloring books and crayons and all the busy stuff kids needed—and he hadn’t even thought to stock up on until now. The girls also had a shiny new bucket full of sand castle–building tools, and a promise to hit the beach at least one more time before he took them back home.

The month was almost over, and Mike could feel the end of his leave ticking off like a countdown to a rocket launch. Only there was no exciting space exploration attached to the end of this thirty days—there was leaving his girls behind, and saying good-bye to Rescue Bay.

And to Diana.

If he could find a way to merge Alaska, Georgia, and Florida into one neighborhood, he would. Because he wasn’t so sure he was going to be able to leave this time without leaving a piece of his heart behind, too.

“Daddy?” Jenny’s voice, from the backseat. She’d stuck with calling him
Daddy
ever since that night on the sofa. He liked the sound of that. A lot.

“Yup?”

“You know that dog at the animal shelter?”

He should have seen the question coming, heard it in the oh-so-innocent way Jenny asked him, but he was as clueless as the next guy, and had no idea he was about to get suckered into another permanent connection. “That one you’ve been walking? Cinderella?”

Jenny nodded. She fiddled with the edge of her book. “Nobody came to get her yet. And she’s really sad, like all the time. I think she misses her family. So I was wondering if…”

“If what?” He switched lanes, diverting around a slow tractor-trailer hogging the middle lane.