by Devney Perry
A soul-shattering shake ran through my entire body. The same feeling that had come over me years and years ago while I’d been by her side, staring up at the stars from a rusted Cadillac.
I wanted to kiss her. In this moment, I wanted to take her cheeks in my hands and kiss her until I forgot my own name.
Goddamn it. Why? Why now? Why hadn’t she come a year ago?
When I was nineteen and after Londyn and I had broken up, I’d known my time with Clara was short. Hell, for the longest time, I hadn’t realized she’d liked me that way. I’d done so well at keeping her as a friend and nothing more. Then I’d felt that shake and my willpower had shattered.
That had been the best damn kiss of my life.
But I wasn’t nineteen anymore.
Tearing my eyes away, I focused on my food, finishing the last few bites of my pasta. August had decimated his slice of pizza in record time because Clara had promised he could play games but only after eating dinner.
“We’ve talked so much about the past today,” she said, going back to her salad. “I’d like to hear more about you. What do you do for work?”
“I’m a realtor.” I put my fork down and found August changing games. This time he was at the Big Game Hunter. To Clara, it probably looked like I was checking on her kid. Really, I just needed a minute before I faced her again.
I needed to fortify the walls.
Not that it did any damn good. When I turned to her, my heart skipped. So I focused on answering her question. Maybe then she’d answer more of mine.
“I got started about seven years ago. In Temecula, actually.”
“I’m surprised you went back.”
“For a while.” But that was not a story for tonight. “The market was booming, and a friend was working construction for a builder who could barely keep up. The builder had a broker selling all his homes, so I went to work with my friend one day and met the agent. Talked to her for about three hours and decided to get licensed. She sponsored me and I worked for her for a few years. Then I decided to branch out on my own when I moved to Elyria.”
“I’m not at all surprised you’re successful. Do you like it?”
I nodded. “I do. I work hard. Have some flexibility in my schedule, which I appreciate, and it pays the bills.”
“Gemma was in real estate for a while. Before she started her companies and skyrocketed through the stratosphere.”
“Sounds like Gemma.”
“She hasn’t changed.” A smile toyed on Clara’s pretty mouth. “None of us have, really. We just grew up.”
Yes, she’d grown up. And no, she hadn’t changed. Thank God for that.
Clara had this ageless wisdom, this realistic vision of the world. She wasn’t bitter or harsh or jaded, she just knew that life wasn’t fair. And she smiled through it anyway.
“Do you mind that Gemma hired a PI to find you?” she asked.
I shook my head. “Nah. You?”
“No. I’m glad.” She collected plates, stacking them and shoving them to the side. Then she rested her forearms on the table with a quick glance at August to make sure his pocket was still bulging with unspent quarters. “Tell me all about exploring.”
“Exploring was fun. Really fun.” I grinned and draped an arm over the back of my booth.
Clara was still leaning forward, and I ignored the magnetic pull to lean in closer. Clara considered us friends. We were friends. Two old acquaintances swapping stories over a meal. Nothing more.
“I went to LA first. Hated it. Stayed for about a week, then kept going south. Sometimes I hitchhiked. But I walked a lot. Walked until I got to San Diego.” The miles had been healing. They’d given me time to reflect and think about where I was going and what I wanted in my life.
At the top of the list had been stability. For that, I’d needed money.
“I stayed in San Diego for about eighteen months. Moved on right before my twenty-first birthday.”
“To where?” She propped her chin in a hand, listening. I’d always loved how Clara listened, not just with her ears but her entire body.
“Houston. I stayed there for about three years, working mostly. I took a page from the Clara Saint-James playbook and got my GED.”
“I still have that book you gave me. I couldn’t throw it out.” She smiled. “What did you do there?”
“Worked two jobs, one as a bouncer at a nightclub and another as a caddy at a golf course. I saw a lot of rich people at both places and I decided that I didn’t need to be rich, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to be poor.”
“Amen to that. What made you leave Houston?”
“Mostly, I was restless,” I admitted. “That last year, I took a few trips with some buddies I worked with at the club. We went to New Orleans for Mardi Gras. Dallas and San Antonio for a weekend here and there just to break things up. After the last trip, I realized it was time for a change of scenery.”
“What made you come back to California?”
“The ocean. The sunshine. The air. Those days I walked to San Diego were some of the best. I’d camp out where I could and wake up to the sound of breaking waves. Even when I got there, I didn’t have money for an apartment right away, so I slept on the beaches and did my best to avoid cops. So I went back to San Diego for a couple of years. Decided I hated the city. Realized I didn’t have time to surf when I worked eighty hours a week. That’s when I went back to Temecula.”
It was part of the truth. The other part was not something I felt like sharing.
“After I had my bearings as a realtor, I started looking for another town again.” And because for the first time, there had been nothing tying me to Temecula.
“Still restless?” Clara smirked.
I chuckled. “Something like that.”
“How’d you find Elyria?”
“From all that walking I did from LA to San Diego. Most of my trip was just about getting from one point to another, but the night I stayed here, I actually paid attention to the town. I slept on the same beach we went to today. Never forgot it. There was this restaurant close by that served the best chips and salsa I’d ever had. After Temecula, I decided to come and see if that restaurant was still in business. It was. So I moved here so I could eat there every day if I wanted.”
“And you didn’t take us there tonight for chips and salsa?” she asked, pretending to be offended.
“Tomorrow. We’ll go there tomorrow.” If all I had was two days with her, I was going to take them.
August slammed into the table, his hands cupped and ready to receive some change. “Mom, can I have more quarters?”
Clara checked the time on her phone. “No, sorry, bud. I think we’d better get going.”
“Not yet,” he pleaded.
“Did you want to swim before bed?”
He thought it over, his mind visibly weighing the options. Then with a nod, he said, “Swimming.”
I raised my hand for the waitress and the check. Then I left some cash on the table to pay our tab and escorted Clara and August to the Cadillac.
“Are you sure you want to go swimming?” I asked August. “Because I know this ice cream spot on the beach and—”
“Ice cream!” He jumped. “I want ice cream.”
“Probably should have asked you first,” I told Clara.
She waved it off. “I never say no to ice cream.”
“Neither do I.” I grinned as we all climbed into the car and set off down the road.
Even for a Sunday evening, the beach was full of people walking. The line at the ice cream hut was twenty deep. We debated the best flavor as we waited our turn to get waffle cones and set out for an evening stroll across the sand.
August ate his kid’s cone faster than I’d ever seen a human consume ice cream before. Then he looked to his mother for permission to chase the seagulls.
“Not too far, okay?”
“Okay.” He handed her a wadded-up, sticky napkin, then took off running.
“Maybe he’ll burn off some sugar before bed.” She frowned at the napkin, then shoved it into a pocket of her shorts.
August chased a bird, then spun around and raced toward us, only to turn around and find another distraction. But he stayed within shouting distance.
“It’s your turn,” I said as we settled into an easy pace. “How was Vegas?”
“Vegas was exciting. For a time. Aria hated it. She only lasted a month.”
My footsteps stuttered. “You were there alone?”
I should have gone with her. Son of a bitch. I should have gone to Vegas. But never, in my wildest dreams, had I imagined Aria would leave her sister. And vice versa. Those two did everything together.
“Sort of.” She shrugged. “But I was busy. I got my GED. A driver’s license. We found an apartment in a not-so-great neighborhood, but the rent was cheap enough for me to afford on my own. I worked hard and things fell into place. Aria did the same, just in Oregon. We talked on the phone a few times a day. So not really alone, but on my own—if the difference makes sense.”
“Yeah,” I muttered. It made sense. But I still didn’t like it.
She shouldn’t have been alone. Clearly, she’d survived and thrived but that was not what I’d wanted for her. Clara was tough, but she’d had it hard enough.
“How’d you come to work for Brody?” I asked.
“Aria went into hospitality. There were so many hotels with tons of jobs to choose from and the pay was better than anything we’d had before. I didn’t want to clean rooms, so I waited tables to start with until I got my GED. Not long after, Brody’s company, Carmichael Communications, hired me as a receptionist.”
I could see her doing that, being the smile that greeted people when they walked through a door. A damn fine greeting.
“I didn’t start working for Brody right away,” she said. “I sat at the front desk for a while and as new positions opened up, I’d apply. Then when Brody’s personal assistant quit, I put my name in for that too. I’ve been working for him ever since. When he decided to move from Vegas to Arizona, he asked me to come along. It was time for a change, so that’s where we’ve been since.”
“Ah.” I nodded. “And that’s how Aria met him?”
“Yes, but they hated each other.” She laughed. “Last year, I was supposed to go to a wedding as Brody’s plus-one, but I got this nasty cold, so Aria went in my place. It wasn’t until then that they’d managed a civil conversation. Even afterward, things were dicey for a while. But the baby brought them together. Trace. They just named him the other day.”
“Trace. Cool name.”
August came racing in our direction with a shell in his hand. He held it up, just long enough to get a smile and a wave from Clara, then he tucked it into the pocket of his shorts and raced away.
“He turns six next month. I feel like I woke up one day and he was this little boy. My baby vanished before my eyes.”
“And his father?”
Clara took a few steps, not answering. Her shoulders were stiff. Her smile gone.
“Forget it. I’m prying.”
“No, it’s just . . . it didn’t work out. He’s not involved in August’s life and I prefer it that way.”
What the hell? When? I opened my mouth to tell her never mind, I was going to pry, but she took off, jogging to catch up to August.
Well, shit.
For most people, I would have let it go. It wasn’t any of my business. But this was Clara. Years apart, and she was still . . . mine. My business.
I hustled to catch up, and now that Clara was with August, her smile had returned, as gorgeous as ever.
She bent to inspect another shell, then when she spotted me, gestured to the parking lot. “Let’s head back. Maybe you can still get some swimming in, bud.”
“Yes.” He fist pumped and ran in the direction of the car.
“I’m sorry,” I said as we walked.
“It’s fine.” She waved it off. “It’s in the past. As long as August is happy, I’m happy.”
“He’s a good kid. You’re a good mom.”
She looked up at me and smiled. “Thanks. That means a lot.”
I nudged her elbow with mine. “It’s good to see you.”
“Same here.” A lock of hair flew into her face.
Instead of tucking it behind an ear like I wanted to, I shoved my hands in my pockets. “I get you tomorrow, right?”
She nodded. “Our schedule is wide open.”
“Good.” The back of my hand brushed against hers, and for a second, I nearly took her hand.
She hadn’t hugged me today. She used to hug. A jolt of electricity zinged to my elbow. Maybe it was the waves, but I swore I heard her breath hitch.
I inched away. I put space between us and did my best not to think of the last time I’d touched Clara.
It had been the night before we’d left the junkyard. She’d been in my arms after we’d had sex. There’d been no fumbling touches like our first time. There’d been no fear or worry. We’d come together like two people who’d been lovers for years, not a day.
A night I’d never forget.
“August!” she called, waving him back to us.
Yeah. Let’s keep August here. Maybe with the kid close, these very intimate, very sexual, very naked thoughts about his mother would stop.
Christ, I was a fucking asshole.
“You should take the Cadillac,” I said as we hit the lot. “Keep it while you’re here.”
“You don’t mind?”
I shook my head. “Not at all. Still doesn’t feel like my car.”
“Okay. Thanks. That will make life a little easier for us to get around town tomorrow.”
We all climbed in the car and I aimed us toward my house. “I’ve got some work to do tomorrow, but if you’re up for it, I’d like to see you again for dinner. Chips and salsa?”
“We’re up for it.”
“And swimming in the ocean,” August said.
Clara laughed. “You got it, bud.”
The drive to my place was short, too short. The day had gone by too fast. I had this niggling fear that once Clara left California, I wouldn’t see her again.
For years, I’d held on to hope that since she hadn’t said the word goodbye, it hadn’t been goodbye. Even after I’d looked her up and seen her with him. Foolish hope had stuck to me like grains of sand between my toes.
This time around, I doubted it would turn out the same. Though maybe it was for the best if I didn’t see her again given the circumstances.
Why hadn’t she come a year ago?
The sun was only beginning to go down as we parked in front of my garage. Orange tinged the horizon.
“Catch the sunset from your hotel if you can. They’ve been pretty lately.”
Clara nodded and got out of the Cadillac, meeting me in front of the hood. “Thank you for dinner. And today.”
“No thanks needed. It was, well . . . my head is still spinning. I look at you and can’t believe you’re here.”
The color crept into her cheeks as another tendril of hair blew across her mouth. And damn it, my hands weren’t in my pockets. They acted of their own accord, lifting to brush the blond strands away.
Clara’s eyes were waiting as my hand fell away. And the look she gave me, the longing, twisted me into a knot.
“Clara, I—”
The door to the house opened and Holly emerged, walking down the sidewalk to the driveway. She was still in her baby blue scrubs from work and her dark hair was tied up. “Hey, baby. There you are. I texted you when I got here.”
“Hey. Sorry. I haven’t checked my phone.”
“That’s all right. Who’s this?”
I couldn’t look at Clara as Holly came to my side, standing on her toes to brush a kiss to my bearded jaw. “I want you to meet someone.”
“Okay.” Holly smiled at Clara, then glanced at the car. When she spotted August, she lifted her hand and waved.
I couldn’t avoid Clara’s gaze any longer. Anyone else would have just seen her smile. But I wasn’t anyone. I’d learned to read her a long time ago and there was pain there. Hurt that was totally my fucking fault.
“Holly, this is Clara Saint-James.” I swallowed hard, making the most painful introduction of my life. “Clara’s an old friend. She lived with me at the junkyard.”
Holly gasped, then lunged to take Clara’s hand and shake it. “What? Oh my goodness. It’s so nice to meet you.”
“You too.” Clara’s smile widened. Too wide. She looked to me for an explanation.
I only had one to give.
“Clara, this is Holly Fallon. My girlfriend.”
Chapter Eleven
Karson
“And their tongues weigh as much as an elephant.”
“That’s a big tongue,” I said.
August nodded, barely taking a breath between facts. “And you can tell how old they are from their ear wax.”
“No kidding.” I glanced at Clara, hoping to catch her gaze, but she was staring at her son. Just like she had been the entire meal. Eye contact had been fleeting at best.
“You sure know a lot about blue whales,” Holly said, leaning into my side.
Gus beamed. “We learnded about them in school.”
“Learned,” Clara corrected.
“That’s what I said.”
She shook her head and smiled, then focused on the restaurant, taking in the colorful décor and other patrons. Again, looking everywhere but at me.
Holly and I were on one side of the booth, August and Clara the opposite. Only a basket of chips and two bowls of salsa separated us, but for the tension between Clara and me, it might as well have been the Grand Canyon.
Thankfully, Holly hadn’t seemed to notice. Neither had August. Clara had smiled politely as we’d gathered at the hostess station, just like last night when she’d shaken Holly’s hand.
Maybe I was making too much out of this. Clara seemed . . . fine. She was laughing with her son and had gushed over her first chip and salsa bite. Was it just me?
She hadn’t flirted with me yesterday. She hadn’t acted strangely. Maybe it was my own bullshit making this weird.