by Susan Wiggs
“Your folks have a great spot here,” she remarked.
“Yeah. We’re really lucky.”
“Some would say spoiled.”
“Yeah, okay. Spoiled. But in a good way.” He flashed a grin.
“True,” she said. “That was really nice last night, helping out at the children’s center.”
“Thanks for coming along. But I thought you were allergic to kids.”
“I guess I like them in small doses. Especially when they’re at a place like Ryder House. It’s nice to help.”
“Agreed. I’ve been really lucky in my life, and I never want to take that for granted. It feels like a special privilege to help out.”
“You’re right. I’ve heard it called a ‘helper’s high.’ Otherwise known as doing the hokeypokey.”
He chuckled. “You’re a good sport.”
“I like to think so.” She passed through the arch of beach roses and dune grass and stepped onto the sand, which was still slightly cool and damp from the night.
“We practically have it all to ourselves,” she said, enchanted by the shifting blue of the water, the slight pink tinge of the morning sky.
A few hundred yards away was a lone jogger, heading up the coast. In the other direction was a woman doing yoga poses. The rest of the beach belonged to the seagulls and sandpipers.
Logan stopped at the cabana and took out two boards, along with a couple of bars of wax. They applied the wax to the already-bumpy surface of each board.
“Okay,” he said when they finished. “Surf’s up.”
She nodded and peeled off her oversize tunic, knowing without looking at him that he was checking her out. His gaze felt like a waft of heat on her bare skin.
He didn’t even pretend not to stare. “Sunscreen?” he asked, offering her a tube.
“Thanks.” She spread the cream everywhere she could reach while he did the same. Then she donned her rash guard, a tight jersey shirt with three-quarter-length sleeves.
“You missed a spot,” said Logan. “Turn around.” He went down on one knee and smoothed his hands down the backs of her thighs.
She was startled by the sensation of his bare hands on her skin. It had been so long since a guy had touched her, she’d nearly forgotten what that felt like. And until this moment, she hadn’t realized that she missed it.
She was flustered by the time he finished and stood up. “Thanks,” she said, hoping her thoughts didn’t show on her face. She’d never been good at playing it cool.
“My pleasure.” He picked up his board. “Really.”
She followed him to the surf. The warm water swirled around her ankles in a rhythm that pulled at her, reminding her of why she loved the ocean—the steady movement, the timeless rhythm, the mysteries beneath, the raw curl of power. “Let’s go ride some waves.”
“You’re going to show me up again,” he accused.
She laughed. “Watch and learn.”
They waded out together and then mounted their boards to paddle out to the green water. The waves were aggressive, but beyond the first break, the ocean was calm, shifting with a cradling motion.
“Beautiful morning,” he said, sitting astraddle and watching the incoming rollers.
“It is. Let’s try this one.” She indicated a nice glassy mound coming toward them.
“You got it.”
They paddled in tandem, and when the momentum took their boards, they both stood up. She laughed aloud, loving the sensation of being propelled by the surge. The first ride of the day made her glad to be alive. She’d taken her stepchildren surfing a few years ago. She couldn’t keep herself from remembering that. This morning, though, the memory didn’t hurt.
They rode for about an hour. Beyond the break, she caught sight of something out of the corner of her eye. A series of large, dark shapes flurried just under the surface, moving fast, a raft of liquid shadows.
“Hey, Logan!” she yelled, looking around for him. Her heart pounded.
He had seen, too, and seconds later, the dark shapes broke the surface and leaped into the air in a graceful arc. Darcy was transfixed, and then she broke into laughter. “Dolphins,” she cried. “I’ve never been this close to dolphins.” The animals leaped again, and she could feel the rush of wind and spray as they passed. It was magical. There was no other word for it.
The animals didn’t seem to mind their proximity. They surged past, the muscular undulations of their bodies stirring the water, then causing shower after shower as they breached. She felt both intimidated and reverent, privileged to be part of their world. In that moment, the sense of wonder was so powerful it reminded her of being a child again.
The dolphins leaped several more times, and then disappeared out to sea. Darcy’s gaze caught Logan’s and she could see that he was every bit as enchanted as she was, sharing the same sense of wordless wonder. The fact that they had witnessed it together bonded them in some intense way. Unforgettable moments had a habit of doing that.
He signaled to her to indicate an incoming wave, and they rode it in together, side by side, to the shallows. She whipped her wet hair out of her face and grinned at him. “Well,” she said, “I guess that’s something you don’t see every day. I’m just... God, it was overwhelming. I have no idea what to say. I’m speechless. I mean, I’m babbling. But really, Logan, I—”
He stopped her with a kiss. It was just that fast. One moment she was attempting to blather on about swimming with the dolphins, and the next, he had cradled her face between his hands and was kissing her with a raw, searing passion that took her breath away. For a second, she went stiff with startlement, and then she melted against him, feeling the unfamiliar shape of him, tasting him for the first time, exploring the texture of his lips, wishing it would go on for a very long time.
“Oh,” she said when he finally lifted his mouth from hers. “Oh my.” Still at a loss for words, she stared up at him, wanting him to kiss her again, wondering if he wanted to. He tasted delicious, of salt from the sea and his own unique flavor. It was exciting and sexy and wholly unexpected. She had not kissed a man in ages. She was glad the one she was kissing happened to be Logan O’Donnell.
He smiled down at her. “I’m glad we shared that.”
She wasn’t sure he meant the dolphins or the kiss.
“Me, too,” she said, and she knew which one she meant.
“Are you sure you have to leave today?” he asked.
Ah, so tempting. Then she took a deep breath. It was just a kiss, she reminded herself. It was only a kiss. “Yes. I have a work thing.” She bent over and unstrapped the ankle tether of her board.
“On a holiday weekend?”
She straightened up and nodded, furrowing a hand through her hair. “It’s weather-dependent. There’s a photo shoot that needs snow and ice, and that’s the prediction for tomorrow and Sunday.”
“Sounds awesome. Where’s the shoot?”
“Lake Placid,” she said. “It’s a snow sports shoot.”
“Cool. So, do you do photography?”
“No. I’d love to learn one day.”
“It’s overrated,” he said quickly, almost harshly. He caught her quizzical look and added, “My ex is a photographer.”
“I don’t think it’s contagious,” she said.
“Yeah, sorry.” He passed her a towel. Their hands brushed, and they looked at each other briefly.
Again, she thought. Let’s try kissing again. To her disappointment, he picked up her beach bag and started back toward the house.
“So, what do you do on the shoot?” he asked. “Stylist, or...?”
“I’m, uh, the subject,” she said, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
“Sorry, what?”
“The subject.”
“Like, you’re a model?”
“I’m on
e of the athletes,” she said, somewhat insulted by his surprise. She knew she wasn’t model-pretty, but she wished he thought she was.
“Now I’m confused. I thought you were in advertising.”
“I am. I’m in sports marketing,” she said. “It’s a specialized field. I work with sponsors, and the shoot is set up to show off their gear.”
“What do you mean, you work with sponsors?”
“As a sponsored athlete.”
“Seriously? What kind of sport?” he asked, holding the back door for her. The kitchen, though deserted, was fragrant with the morning’s first pot of coffee.
“Snowboarding is my specialty. I’ll be testing gear and apparel, and there will be photos and videos for the sponsors’ catalogue and website. Hence the need to shoot when the weather is cooperating.” She helped herself to a cup of coffee and poured one for him.
“You snowboard to test and promote your sponsors’ gear, and that’s your job.”
“Yes, some of the time.” She started feeling a bit defensive, as if he was judging her. There was a lot more to her job, but this weekend, that was it in a nutshell.
Logan lifted his coffee mug in salute. “That is made of awesome.”
She laughed. All right, so he wasn’t judging her. “The job’s not that much fun every day, but I can’t complain.”
“Coolness. The more I get to know you,” he said, “the more I like you.” He put a couple of English muffins in the toaster. “Peanut butter, strawberry jam or both?” he asked.
“Be still, my heart.”
Oh, this was bad. Because she liked him, too, but he was everything she wasn’t looking for—a single dad, a man who had said, practically at their first meeting, that he wanted a big family. The idea made her stomach tighten with tension.
“You’re going to love hanging out with me,” he said, slathering the English muffins with peanut butter and jam, and handing her one.
“What makes you think I’m going to hang out with you?” She took a bite of the warm, gooey muffin. It was almost as delicious as kissing him.
“Because I have a ski resort. I mean, I’m part of the investment group, but I’m the controlling partner and general manager.” He paused and watched her savoring the muffin, seeming to focus on her lips. Then he picked up a napkin and gently dabbed at the corner of her mouth. “You inspired me,” he said simply.
It was the last thing she expected to hear from him. “Huh?” she said, with peanut butter charmingly stuck to the roof of her mouth.
“Last summer, when you talked about taking risks.”
“I can’t believe you remember that.” She was flustered...but flattered.
“So in the future, if you need a location for doing your gear testing and photo shoots, I can offer you carte blanche at Saddle Mountain. Come check it out some time. Come soon.”
“Now, that,” she said, “is made of awesome. I’ll definitely tell my team. We’ve got a project going with a new snowboard company, and we’ll be doing a shoot sometime in December.”
“You ought to come give Saddle Mountain a try. We’ll give you VIP privileges.”
She polished off the English muffin, unable to recall enjoying a breakfast more. “Wow. I guess knowing the controlling partner is a perk.”
“Controlling partner?” Al O’Donnell came into the kitchen. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Darcy sensed it was her cue to leave. “I’d better hit the shower.”
“Don’t run off,” said Al, looking a bit sheepish. “Logan and I can talk about this later.”
“Or not,” Logan said good-naturedly, pouring coffee for his father. “Actually, I—”
A cell phone on the counter chimed. Logan checked it, and his face changed entirely, turning marble-hard with tension. “Sorry, I have to take this. Excuse me.” Grabbing the phone, he stepped out to the backyard.
Darcy took a sip of coffee. She slid the cream pitcher across the counter toward Al. Your son just kissed me, she thought. And then: I liked it. She hoped she wasn’t blushing too much. “Ah,” she said, “that awkward moment when one has no idea what to say.”
Al chuckled. “Nonsense. I didn’t mean... Logan doesn’t seem to understand how proud I am of all he’s accomplished.”
“Have you explained that to him?”
“Maybe not directly, but he knows.”
Darcy wasn’t so sure of that.
“We talked about that resort,” Al said. “That Saddle Mountain place. I was hoping it was just a passing fancy. I didn’t think he’d actually go for it. Sounds like a leap off the fiscal cliff to me.”
She didn’t say anything. This was between the two of them. Yet Al seemed to want to talk. He seemed like a good guy—blustery, bossy, but kindhearted. India adored him. And he was certainly good-looking, big and athletic, his abundant red hair fading at the temples. When she regarded Al, she could picture Logan thirty years from now. Scary thought—she enjoyed picturing Logan thirty years from now.
“He’s always been too fond of skiing and snowboarding,” Al said, pacing back and forth. “People think that just because they love something, they can make it their life’s work.”
She laughed. “Al. Listen to yourself.”
“Okay, but still. If you saw your kid about to step off a cliff, wouldn’t you be concerned?”
“Logan seems pretty sturdy to me. I wouldn’t worry.”
“Why’re you worrying about Dad?” asked Charlie, coming into the kitchen. His face was still sleep-soft, making him look even younger than ten.
Darcy was struck by an urge to reach out to him. Kids needed hugging. “For somebody who doesn’t like kids,” Logan had said, “you sure like kids.”
“Should I worry about Dad?” Charlie asked, absently scratching his cheek.
“Of course not,” said Al, giving him a kiss on the head. “You have a great dad.”
“You can say that again.” Logan came back into the kitchen, phone in hand. “I’ve got a little news, Charlie-my-man.”
“Yeah?” His eyebrows shot up.
“Your buddy André?”
“From Camp Kioga, yeah! What about him?”
“He and his sister are going to be spending Christmas with us.”
“Cool!”
“What?” asked Al, another thunderous frown darkening his face.
“Christmas at Willow Lake,” said Logan. “How does that sound?”
“We always have Christmas here,” said Al.
“And now I really am hitting the shower,” Darcy announced. She truly did not want to be in the middle of this. It sounded like a family matter. It sounded eerily like her own family—the arguing, the affection, the power struggles, the sense of caring, sometimes caring so much that it hurt.
chapter eight
Logan heard the clack of suitcase wheels on the adobe tile of the foyer, and knew Darcy was about to depart. Fresh out of the shower, he leaned toward the mirror to make sure he hadn’t missed a spot shaving, then hurried downstairs to tell her goodbye.
He didn’t want her to leave. He wanted her to stay. He wanted to kiss her some more, for sure. He wanted to make out with her, run his hands over that amazing, athletic, taut body, inhale the flowery smell of her hair, taste the strawberry jam on her lips...
Not possible, though. She had to rush back to the city and Lake Placid and her work project, while he had to wrap up the holiday here, tell Charlie goodbye until Christmas and get back to Avalon for work. Most of all, he had a project that was going to take all his energy and focus. He had to prepare to look after Maya Martin’s children.
It was probably for the best that he and Darcy had been interrupted before they even got started.
But holy crap. It was going to be a long time before he forgot about that kiss.
Darcy was in
the foyer with his sisters and mother, doing a final check—phone, boarding pass, rental car key. “This has been such a fantastic stay,” she was saying. “Thank you so much for having me.”
“Wish you could have stayed longer,” said India, who then turned to Logan. “Right, Logan?”
“Of course.” He grinned at his sister, wondering if she’d guessed her matchmaking had worked, even just a little. Then he moved past her. “Glad you were here for the holidays,” he told Darcy.
“Me, too.” She held him with that direct look of hers. “Thanks again for including me at the children’s center. Oh, and the surfing. And the dolphins.”
“I can’t take credit for the dolphins,” he said.
“You saw dolphins?” India asked.
“Yep, while surfing,” Logan said. “Let’s go back with the kids this afternoon, see if we can spot them again.”
“It was unforgettable,” Darcy said softly, and he noticed a touch of color in her cheeks. Then she said her goodbyes to everyone else.
After she’d gone, Logan decided to bring up the topic of Christmas with his parents and sisters. He hadn’t intended to drop two bombs at once, but circumstances made it necessary.
“We’re having Christmas here,” his mother said. “Just like we always do.”
“I’ve got a different idea,” he told her. “Avalon. Everyone’s coming to Avalon this year.”
“Where will we stay?” his mother asked, uncertainty shadowing her eyes. “There’s no way you have room for us all.”
“The lodge at Saddle Mountain,” he said. “I live there now.”
“What?” His mother stared at him. “I don’t understand.”
“I sold my house and moved up to the mountain.”
“And when were you going to tell us about this?”
“It all happened fast. I got a full-price offer as soon as I listed my house—a couple from the city who want a place near Willow Lake. I moved up to the mountain week before last. The residence there is old, but huge. It’s been operating as a B and B.” He’d sunk his profits from the house sale into the resort, where nearly all his resources went these days.