From Daredevil to Devoted Daddy

by Barbara McMahon

  He’d vowed never to be a hostage to fate again. The solo path was safer. If he could only clamp down on the roiling desire that rose.

  “I need to go in,” she said softly, her fingers brushing against his cheek. “I had a wonderful time today.” When she pulled away, he let her go. And watched her walk into the inn.

  He stared after her long moments after she left. His own breathing slowed.

  He’d kissed her again, over and over, actually. And she’d responded.

  Had she ever!

  With a groan, he relived every second. She’d felt so feminine and utterly desirable. He’d thought that aspect of life was over, but her kisses proved him totally wrong.

  Matt was down the next morning before the sun rose. The kitchen was still dark.

  He continued on to his car, not wishing to meet up with Jeanne-Marie this morning. He needed some time to get his head on straight. He stopped by the bakery on his way to the base of the cliffs. Once the car was parked, he quickly walked along the path until he came to the one he planned to try. He paused at the base and scanned the face. No other climbers out yet, which could make the climb more dangerous in case of trouble.

  Yet wasn’t that why he pushed himself? Taking harder and harder climbs as if determined to triumph in one area of life. If fate had a different ending in mind, it would only end the sorrow that much sooner.

  Dipping into his resin bag, he coated his fingers. He didn’t feel as driven today as the previous days. A challenging climb, not a dangerous one, was what he was seeking today. The pamphlets he’d obtained from the inn and the sports shop in the village rated the climbs. This one promised to be only moderately difficult.

  Reaching for the first handhold, he thought about Jeanne-Marie. Would last night’s kisses have changed things between them? Did he want them to?

  Pausing for a moment between reaching for handholds, he leaned his forehead against the cool stone. He was not getting entangled with anyone ever again. He’d made that vow when he’d buried Marabelle and Etienne. So what was he doing kissing Jeanne-Marie?

  The sun hadn’t yet risen high enough to show every nook and cranny of the cliff face, but there was more than enough light to choose the best way up the seemingly flat face. He wanted a short climb, to get back to the inn. See her again.

  Climbing took concentration, an awareness of where he was and what his next move would be. Forcing other thoughts away helped him remain focused. Yet from time to time his attention lapsed and he wished he’d found out before he’d left this morning if the room was available next week. If she would have been glad to see him, or was feeling awkward.

  This was as bad as being a teenager with overzealous hormones. He kept thinking about Jeanne-Marie. Last night had not been enough. He wanted more.

  Reaching the summit sometime later, he lay back on the warmed rock and closed his eyes, immediately seeing her face. Maybe staying longer wasn’t the wisest move he could make. But for the first time in a long while he felt alive. He didn’t want to cut it short. The aching pain of loss had diminished. He would never forget, but he could move on. Just like people had said.

  He remembered some of the comments Alexandre had made at the fair and laughed out loud. Then he remembered kissing Jeanne-Marie and almost groaned. Just thinking about her had him longing to get back to the inn to see her. He sat up and began eating lunch, gazing across the sparkling blue of the Mediterranean.

  Despite his best intentions to segregate himself from the world, Matt was being brought out of the past and into the present. Each time they were together, Alexandre said something funny. And the hero worship he had was special. Matt dared not do anything to tarnish that. It was healing to find he could be a role model to an impressionable child.

  It was Jeanne-Marie who had him thinking of kisses and caresses and wanting to spend time together, at dinner, sitting on the veranda. Wherever she was.

  Jeanne-Marie sat at the desk, totaling all the figures for the past week. Three couples had checked out. Two more were due to arrive before dark. And the couple in the suite had left a huge tip, which she put right into Alexandre’s college fund. When he grew up there’d be money for university, or whatever else he might wish to do. In the meantime, they were comfortable.

  The numbers blurred and once again she was on the veranda reliving the kisses she and Matt had shared last night. Looking up and out to the sea, she again felt the sensations that had swamped her. Desire, heat, longing. She loved his kisses. She loved the feelings she had when he held her. Feeling as if she’d wakened from a long sleep, she relished every tiny aspect. She had thought about those kisses far into the night, unable to sleep as she fretted about her reaction. She’d been late with breakfast, barely having the first batch of warm bread out of the oven when guests came to the dining room.

  Now she was alone and again the memory of his warm lips demanding a response from her captured her thoughts and wouldn’t turn loose. She was still surprised at the delight that had splashed through her. Unable to wrap her mind around her own response, she brushed her fingertips across her lips. Was she ready to look beyond her life with Phillipe and into a different future than she’d once thought she’d have?

  She heard a car in the parking lot and involuntarily her heart rate increased. Was it Matt? Wiping her hands on her khaki slacks, she watched the corner of the veranda, anticipating the moment she’d see him again. She’d missed him that morning. Almost laughing at herself, she remembered going straight to the reservation book before even starting breakfast.

  He came around the corner onto the veranda and strode toward one of the open French doors. Stepping inside, he spotted her instantly. Jeanne-Marie caught her breath, forced herself to exhale and then smiled. The memory of their kisses sprang to the forefront. It was all she could do to bravely meet his eyes. He didn’t have second thoughts, did he? She didn’t know what to think when she realized he’d left this morning before she could see him.

  “Good climb?” She was pleased her voice sounded normal. She hoped he didn’t see signs of her rapidly beating heart.

  “Excellent. Did you check reservations?” The intense way he looked at her convinced her he was also thinking of those kisses. No second thoughts. His dark eyes searched hers, his gaze touching on her lips.

  She licked them nervously. “Yes. I was booked, but amazingly, around ten this morning, one of the reservations was canceled. You can stay another few days if you still want to.”

  He walked to the counter and leaned over it slightly. Jeanne-Marie saw the tanned face, the dark eyes focused on her with faint lines radiating from the edges. She could smell sunshine on him. Was he going to kiss her again?

  “I do want. And we’re on for tomorrow night?” His voice was low and vibrant. His gaze held hers and it was all she could do to respond to the question. Her fingers ached to reach out and trace those firm lips, test the strength of that strong jaw, feel the warmth of his suntanned skin.

  She nodded. She had to clear her throat before she could speak. “I thought we’d leave around three, drop Alexandre off and then have an early dinner?”

  “Works for me. Where is he?” He surveyed the room, then glanced out to the beach.

  “He’s at Pierre’s house for the afternoon. Michelle and I trade back and forth having the kids. Today they’re building a ramp for their cars to race. Marc’s into woodworking and said he’d help the boys. I suspect it’ll be more he’ll do it and they’ll be the ones clamoring to help.”

  “He likes those cars. Think he’ll be a race driver?”

  “I want him to be an accountant or something,” she murmured. She couldn’t look away. His eyes still held hers. She wished she didn’t have the counter between them.

  He laughed and her breath caught again. His laughter was rich and masculine and made him look younger, definitely happier. It was the first time she’d seen him laugh. Her heart ached to think how little he’d had to laugh about in the last two years. She smil
ed in delight, hoping he would find more to bring happiness in the future.

  “He’ll be what he’ll be,” Matt said. He reached out and touched her nose. “You can’t keep him from doing what he wants, even if it’s racing. If that makes him happy and being an accountant doesn’t, which would you choose?”

  “I want him to be happy. But preferably happy for a long, long time.” She liked Matt’s familiar touch. It made last night seem less like an aberration and maybe the beginning of something.

  Two of the new guests arrived on the veranda. Jeanne-Marie could have screamed in frustration. Matt glanced over his shoulder, then told her he’d see her later and took the stairs two at a time. Jeanne-Marie turned to watch him before she greeted her guests. She wished she could shift into full innkeeper mode. But part of her couldn’t let go of Matt.

  She walked over to Michelle’s house to get Alexandre before dinner. Visiting briefly with her friends, she and her son then walked home, with him talking a mile a minute about the ramp Pierre’s father had built for their cars.

  “And mine won almost every time. Pierre’s going to get a new one so he can beat me, but today I won,” her son explained on the way home.

  “That’s good. Next time maybe Pierre will win.”

  “Is Matt at home?” Alexandre asked when they reached the inn. “I want to tell him about the ramp.”

  “Yes, he’s back from climbing.” She wondered what he’d been doing since he returned. He had not come back downstairs after she’d checked in the new arrivals. “He’s in his room, but you wait until he comes downstairs before talking to him. Do not disturb him in his room,” she said.

  “I won’t ’sturb him, but he’ll want to know about my ramp,” Alexandre said earnestly.

  “Nonetheless, you wait for him to come down.”

  Alexandre pouted and walked over to flop on one of the sofas in the lounge area.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  JEANNE-MARIE prepared a thick soup and crusty bread for their dinner. By the time dinner was ready, Alexandre was in a better mood, but still impatient to see Matt. For that matter, so was she. She hoped it didn’t show as much as it did with Alexandre.

  “Tomorrow you’re going to your grandparents’ house for the night,” she said as she set the small table in the alcove for their dinner.

  “Can I take my cars?”

  “Of course. Your grandfather will want to see them race side by side.”

  “Maybe we can go climbing. Do you think Matt would take me again?”

  “Maybe.” She wouldn’t mind trying it herself again, as long as it was with Matt. Who would ever think she’d find anything redeeming in climbing rocks?

  “Matt!” Alexandre scooped up his cars and ran to the kitchen doorway. “We builded a ramp and our cars went really fast.” He hugged the man’s leg and looked up at him, his eyes shining.

  Jeanne-Marie looked as well, wondering if she had that same look of adoration her son wore.

  “Fantastic, I want to hear all about it,” Matt said, stooping to be on eye level with Alexandre. “Did yours win?”

  “Yes. But Mama said next time maybe Pierre’s will win. But mine’s really fast.”

  “Life is not always about winning, but it’s great when we do,” Matt replied, his gaze moving to Jeanne-Marie.

  “We’re having soup and bread for dinner,” she said. “There’s plenty if you want to eat with us.” She held her breath, hoping he’d say yes.

  The faint flush of color on her cheeks could have been from the stove’s heat, or it could mean something else. Matt nodded and rose, walking with Alexandre to the small square table, three chairs on three sides and the fourth side pressed to the wall beneath the window that overlooked the garden.

  In only moments, Jeanne-Marie had served them all and sat down opposite Matt, Alexandre in the center.

  The boy talked as fast as he could until his mother said, “Enough. Eat before the soup gets cold. Then you can finish telling Matt about your racing adventures.”

  Alexandre scowled but picked up his spoon. “But Matt needs to hear.”

  “When you’re done eating,” Matt said. He looked at Jeanne-Marie. “Are you full again? I heard people climbing up and down the stairs.”

  “More than full. One couple has a baby they didn’t tell me about. I hope it doesn’t cry in the night.”

  “Do you not let rooms to babies?” Matt asked.

  Jeanne-Marie nodded, watching to see if he liked the meal. The soup had been simmering all afternoon, so thick with vegetables and beef it was almost a stew. The fresh, crusty bread had been made that morning. It was a simple meal, but one she took pride in. He seemed to like it.

  “If I know in advance, I usually give families with small children the end room above the kitchen. There’s a small storage room separating it from other rooms in the back, so crying babies aren’t so noticeable. But they have the room smack in the center of the front, flanked by two other rooms.” She shrugged. “I’ll have a better idea if it’s going to work by tomorrow. Here’s hoping the baby sleeps through the night.”

  “I’m all done,” Alexandre said, tipping his bowl slightly so his mother could see it was empty. “Now can I talk?”

  Matt smiled at his impatience. Just like Etienne had been. He flicked a glance at Jeanne-Marie, raising an eyebrow in silent question.

  She nodded solemnly. “Now you may talk.”

  “I have to go to my grandparents’ tomorrow,” he said, almost bouncing in his chair. “Will you still be here when I get back? We could walk along the beach again. Or I could go climbing with you,” he ended hopefully.

  “Yes, Matt will be here when you get back,” Jeanne-Marie said.

  “You’ll have fun at your grandparents’, right?” Matt asked.

  “Sure, we’ll go have ice cream and play in the park and watch movies on television. They have a television. We don’t. Do you have a television?”

  “I do.”

  Alexandre’s eyes widened. “That’s cool. I wish we had a television.”

  “Think what a treat it is when you go to your grandparents’,” his mother said.

  “She says I look like my dad,” he told Matt.

  He looked up at Jeanne-Marie, a question in his eyes.

  “He looks a lot like Phillipe did at that age from the pictures I’ve seen. I’m sure Adrienne is constantly reminded.” She looked at her son and Matt knew she was constantly reminded of her husband as well when she looked at him.

  Which was worse, to have purged his house of reminders or to be constantly reminded by just looking at her son?

  “Maybe they can take me to ride horses so I can learn. Then I can come visit you, Matt, and ride your horses.”

  “Maybe.”

  Jeanne-Marie threw him a look that was difficult to interpret.

  “What?”

  “We’re not coming to visit, so don’t raise his hopes.”

  “You’d be welcome,” he said. Thinking about it for a moment, he realized he’d like to have her and her son come to see where he lived, where he worked. What would they think of his family’s enterprise?

  “Do you want some more soup?” she asked, clearly changing the subject.

  “Yes. And more of that delicious bread.”

  After dinner Matt suggested a walk along the beach. While he saw no benefit from lying in the broiling sun all day, he did like being by the sea. The air was fresh and invigorating. She wouldn’t go without her son, which suited him. Matt was surprised to realize he enjoyed Alexandre’s company.

  “A short walk, perhaps. We have to get ready for Alexandre’s trip,” she said, hesitating.

  “Instead of going later, shall we leave in the morning and have lunch together in Marseilles before dropping Alexandre off at his grandparents’?” Matt asked.

  Alexandre looked at him. “Are you going to Marseilles, too?”

  “I’m driving you to your grandparents’ place,” Matt said.

  “Y
ea!” Alexandre danced around. “And will you pick me up, too?”

  “If it’s okay with your mother.” And with that, Jeanne-Marie knew nothing could be better.

  “We need to return soon so Alexandre can take a bath before bed,” she said an hour later when they reached the marina. Twilight was near. It would take a while to walk back along the curving beach to get to the inn.

  “If I swim in the sea I wouldn’t need to take a bath,” the little boy said, running ahead, then running back to be with them.

  “Would you read me a story tonight?” he asked Matt, slipping his hand into the man’s larger one.

  It was startling. The child was without pretension. He said whatever came into his mind. Holding his hand, Matt was swept away with a feeling of protectiveness toward the little boy. How unfair life had been, losing his father when so young. Who would teach him how to be a man?

  The sun had set only moments before. Twilight afforded plenty of light to see. The soft murmur of wavelets against the sand was soothing. Stars had not yet appeared but undoubtedly would before they reached the inn.

  With Alexandre between them, each holding one of his hands, Matt thought how like a family they must appear. The thought came more and more frequently. He railed against it. He was on holiday. That was all.

  Looking over at Jeanne-Marie, he was struck by her air of serenity. Content with her life, happy with her child, she cast a spell over him. He wanted that serenity, that contentment.

  “Can we go swimming after dark?” Alexandre asked as they approached the inn.

  “Not safe,” his mother replied.

  “Not dangerous, either. It could be fun,” Matt said. He’d love to go swimming with Jeanne-Marie, to see her sleek body in a swimsuit, to touch her, to kiss her again. To feel her body against his, skin to skin.

  He took a breath and shook his head trying to dislodge the images.

  She looked dubious. “Maybe.”

  “Can we?” Alexandre was thrilled at the thought.