Now the only question was, where did she even start looking for a man who obviously didn’t want to be found?
Chapter Eleven
Not only was Heath hungry and tired, but Sam looked as though he was wearing down, too. Heath had believed he was alone when he left his mother’s property, but apparently Sam was even smarter than Heath gave him credit for since the dog must have nosed open the screen door to follow.
“Right about now, I’m guessing you wish you’d stayed home, huh?” He rubbed behind the dog’s silky ears.
Sam licked his hand.
It was one thing to run himself to his physical limits, but now he had the added guilt of worrying about his dog.
They’d walked quite a way down the shore, rounded a bend and had just made it back to the public parking lot when Heath groaned. “You’ve got to be kidding me....”
The lot was deserted save for one familiar truck. His.
Even worse, farther down the beach tottered Libby.
Lord...
He sharply exhaled, then swiped his fingers through his hair. He didn’t know how to face her. He hadn’t just botched their situation, but annihilated it.
Sam adored Libby. One look at her and the traitorous mutt found his second wind, bounding down the shore, barking the whole way.
While his dog and Libby shared a touching reunion, Heath regrettably knew what he had to do.
Facing her, bolstered by the rhythmic waves that had always brought solace, he blurted, “Sorry.”
“No—I’m sorry.” She wiped tears. “I never should’ve said anything about Patricia. It was heartless and cruel and mean-spirited.”
He couldn’t help but cast her a faint smile. “There you go again. All of those mean the same.”
“Does it matter?”
“Nope.”
“All right, then. Accept my apology, I’ll accept yours and let’s get on with our day.”
Hands in his pockets, Heath kicked at the sand. “What if I feel like there’s more to say?”
“Then say it. You’re a grown man, Heath. You used to be a navy SEAL. Do you have any idea how amazing that is? You’ve seen and done things I can’t even imagine—probably don’t want to imagine—so I can’t for the life of me understand what you’re doing holed up in Bent Road, fishing or lounging around your mother’s house when you could be off saving the free world.”
Heath hung his head in shame.
Her words hurt, but he couldn’t deny their truth.
“I know we hardly know each other,” she said, “so maybe I don’t have the right to say any of this, but on the other hand, your mother’s so kind that I almost feel like she’s doing you a disservice by not giving you an earful. Last night...” She flopped her hands at her sides. “It was hot. Beyond unexpected. And really, really great. The way you ran off, I got the feeling you’re ashamed of what happened between us, but you don’t have to be. You’re a single, handsome man who acted on natural feelings. End of story. No, actually—”
“Okay, whoa.” Hands to her shoulders, he held her at arm’s distance so she’d be sure to face him while he took a turn at venting. “Everything you said is true. Me running away was the equivalent of slapping a Band-Aid on a gaping wound. I get that. My problem is figuring out what to do with this wad of emotions I can’t seem to shed.”
After releasing her, he took a step back, covering his face with his hands. “I loved Patricia like I didn’t know it was possible to love. When I lost her...there were days I wished I’d died myself. When Sam was gone, I caught myself slipping back into that frame of mind.”
“Heath...” She touched his forearm—barely—but it was enough to begin his unraveling.
“Please understand, I—I’m not suicidal or anything, but I don’t know where to go, what to do. I’m lost.”
“You’re in luck, lost is my specialty. I’ve lived most of my life there.” Her tone said her words were meant to be a joke, but the shine to her eyes told a different story. “I’ve been fortunate enough to have never lost a loved one the way you have, but my own dad kicked me to the curb like I was garbage. Liam, the father of my baby and man I thought I’d spend the rest of my life with pretty much did the same. So when it comes to loss, I consider myself a specialist.”
“Yet you’re always smiling. How do you do it?”
“Sheer will...” Her misty-eyed smile ignited a long frozen corner of his soul. “Because really, what’s the alternative? Sure, I could curl up in a ball and cry night and day, but what would that prove? Especially, when I have so very much to be thankful for.” Hugging the baby, she said, “I have a daughter on the way, and you and your mom and so many other great friends that up until a week ago, I never even knew existed. Then there was the craft show—making so many sales and meeting Zoe. As if all of that weren’t enough, there was last night...with you. In my bed this morning, I pinched myself to make sure I hadn’t dreamed it all.”
“See? You have your baby to look forward to—your work. I have nothing.”
Waving off his comments, she argued, “Okay, so you might not have a child on the way but, Heath, do you have any idea how much your mother and uncle love you? As for work, you’re a SEAL. I’m not an expert about navy stuff, but seems to me that someone with your kind of training would be in high demand.”
“I’m out of shape.”
Hands on her hips, she pursed her lips and cocked her head. “Really, Heath? That’s the best you’ve got for me? How long would it take you to get back into shape? Especially since you’re looking pretty good to me.” Her cheeks flushed adorably.
“I don’t know...”
“How about this? You dared me to skinny-dip last night, so I dare you to at least call your boss or major general, or whoever’s in charge of letting you get back to what you do. If he tells you to take a hike, then resume your busy schedule. But, Heath, what if he says he needs you? How amazing would you feel to once again be giving to others instead of sitting around replaying a tragic situation day after day that you have no hope of ever making better?”
*
LIBBY’S SPEECH STRUCK an anticipatory chord that stayed with Heath throughout the day. Could Libby be right? Did he have a shot at getting his life back on track?
He was grateful to her for keeping what had transpired between them confidential, meaning he could spend the sun-flooded afternoon picnic his mom had organized enjoying himself as opposed to standing around, feeling awkward—at least when his mom wasn’t off flirting with Hal.
Stuffed from too many servings of his uncle’s fried chicken, Heath sat in the sand beside Mason, who was building a sand castle with his girls. Like everything the man did, the structure was top-notch, featuring a moat, dragon and princess high atop a turret.
“You’ve got a great-looking family,” Heath said.
“Thanks, man. Coming from you, that means a lot.”
“Yeah?”
His friend gave him an odd, indecipherable look. “Yeah. I always looked up to you and Patricia. You two seemed to have it all figured out. When she...well, when she passed, none of us knew what to do for you.”
“There’s wasn’t much anyone could do.” He drew a pattern in the sand with a twig. “Which made it all the harder, considering we were in the business of solving any problem.”
“My point exactly. We felt helpless. And for that, I’m sorry.”
Heath shrugged. “I appreciate it, man, but what’s done is done.”
They sat a few more minutes in companionable silence, Mason helping the girls while Heath stared into the crashing surf where Sam frolicked.
Fred stared on disapprovingly from dry ground.
His mom, Hal, Libby, Hattie and the baby shared the picnic table, while Morris and Hal’s boys chatted up a brunette down the shore. All in all, it’d been a surprisingly good day. Far different from how he’d expected it to develop in the dark before dawn.
Who did he have to thank for that fact? Libby. For a woman fi
ve years his junior, at times she seemed dozens of years wiser.
“Hey, Mason?”
“Uh-huh?” His friend was focused on flying buttress construction.
“Not saying I’m gonna do it, but what would you think the reception would be if I approached the CO about resuming my post?”
“Are you kidding me?” Mason rocked back onto his heels, brandishing a goofy grin. “He’d be thrilled. So would the rest of the guys. We miss you, man. But what’re you going to do about Libby?”
“What do you mean?”
“Aren’t you two an item?”
“No. Not at all.” But if that were the case, why did his stomach knot at the prospect of his life moving on without her?
*
“DON’T LOOK NOW,” Hattie teased, bouncing Charlie on her lap, “but a certain someone can’t stop staring at you.”
“He’s just being friendly.” Libby glanced up to find her gaze locking with Heath’s. She smiled shyly before looking down, ignoring the flush of achy awareness flooding her system from the memory of their brief but hot encounter.
Thankfully, with Gretta and Hal in lawn chairs nearer the surf, immersed in their own conversation, Gretta wouldn’t have overheard Hattie’s comment.
Libby would be mortified if Heath’s mom had so much as an inkling of what had transpired between Libby and her son.
Hattie snorted. “If that’s the look of a friendly man, then I’m about to be crowned Miss America!”
“It could happen,” Libby mused. “You have gorgeous hair.”
“Thanks, and you’re sidestepping the issue. Spill your guts. Is there something going on between you two?”
Dear Lord, yes. Fanning suddenly flaming cheeks with a paper plate, Libby shook her head. “No, nothing like what you’re hinting at, anyway. If anything, we’re like squabbling siblings.”
“Uh-huh...” Hattie leaned to the table’s opposite end to dredge her pinky finger through the frosting on the chocolate cake Morris made for the occasion. “Thank the good Lord I never had a brother who looked like Heath—because well—” she laughed “—he’d be my brother instead of my boyfriend.”
“Hey,” Libby teased, “you’ve already got one great guy. No fair hogging them all.”
“Aha! So you are admitting you like Heath as way more than a brother?”
“I’m admitting nothing.” She sipped pink lemonade. “And unless you want to get on Gretta’s bad side, you might want to assess that situation...” She nodded toward the cake where one of the twins was helping herself by tiny, chubby fistfuls.
“Vivian!” Hattie shouted. “You know better.”
“Yum!” The chocolate-smeared cherub grinned. “Good!”
“See what you have to look forward to?” Hattie asked.
Hugging her belly, Libby said, “I can’t wait.” And she meant it. But as much as she looked forward to finally meeting her baby girl, she was that afraid of raising her all on her own.
“I don’t mean to pry,” Hattie said while cleaning Vivian’s fingers—Vanessa still worked on her castle with Mason, “but you mentioned when we first met that you don’t have a birth plan in place. What’re you planning to do?”
Libby sighed. “As soon as my car’s fixed, my only real option is heading back to family in Seattle with my tail tucked between my legs.”
“I take it you don’t get along?”
“That’d be putting it mildly. Long story short, when I was eighteen, my dad and I had the mother of all fights. He made ultimatums I knew I couldn’t live with, so I didn’t even try. I left home and never looked back.”
“How’s your mom? Was she supportive?”
“She tried, but she’s old-school—believing her husband should be obeyed. When Dad sent me packing, she agreed it was for the best. For a while, I had a hard time accepting what I took as her betrayal, but now that I’m older, I see she probably felt like she didn’t have a choice.”
“A parent always has a choice when it comes to supporting their kid.” Libby hadn’t realized Heath had stepped behind her. How much had he heard? “What both of your parents did is unforgivable.”
“Thanks for the support,” she said, “but it’s not that black-and-white. Back then, I was a wild child, and they’re about as straightlaced as they come. Mom was thinking debutante balls while I was plotting tattoos and piercings. Thankfully, I grew past that rebellious stage, but considering some of the things I’d done, all of the money in private school tuition I pretty much wasted, I guess I’d be upset, too.”
“It shouldn’t be just about the money.” Heath sat beside her, forced by the cooler on her right side to be close enough for their shoulders, forearms and thighs to brush. She tried playing it as no big deal, but her pulse raced as fast as the twins chased barking Sam. “You’re their daughter. No matter what, they should accept you for who you are.”
Even after they’d all shared cake and laughter when Vivian and Fred slinked off with the leftover corn on the cob, Libby struggled to get Heath’s words from her mind.
When she finally became a mother, she hoped to share his high ideals, but she also wasn’t naive enough to believe all parenting situations would be easy.
On the ride home, Libby shared the truck’s seat with Sam and Fred. Heath drove, and she couldn’t help but admire the color the day spent in the sun had left on his stubbled complexion. So much had transpired between them in the past twenty-four hours. Their lovemaking felt like a dream. His running off, and their squabble that morning seemed a million years away.
Where they were concerned, time seemed to hold no meaning. Even though they’d only officially known each other a little over a week, she felt as if she’d always known him. Moreover, she inherently knew she’d always want to know him.
“Have plans for in the morning?” he asked.
“Nope—unless Hal announces my car’s done.”
He snorted. “Back at the beach, Darryl told me they were waiting for parts from literally all over the world, so I wouldn’t hold your breath on that one.”
“Okay, so since I apparently have my day wide-open, what did you have in mind?”
He rubbed Sam behind his ears. “Thought we might wind our way over to Coos Bay. See about getting you a meeting with that gallery owner.”
“Sounds good.” She was careful to not let her voice betray the amount of excitement she actually felt at the prospect of spending her day alone with him. “But if I do that, you’ve got to promise me to call whoever you need to, in order to see about getting back to your job.”
“Yes, Mom.” When he cast a wink and grin combo in her direction, it was all she could do to keep from swooning. Good thing the man seemed to have no idea how handsome he actually was, or she’d be in big trouble!
After a few more minutes’ companionable silence, Heath cleared his throat and said, “Thanks again for this morning. I never talk about Patricia, and...” her heart ached to witness his eyes well “...it was time.”
“You’re welcome. Feels good to finally do something for you.”
“While we’re on serious topics, do me a favor and stop dwelling on any debt you think you owe me. I only did what any ordinary nice guy would.”
That might be, but so far in her travels, Libby hadn’t encountered anyone quite like Heath or his mom and uncle. They were lovely, remarkable people she one day aspired to resemble.
When the tires crunched on the gravel drive leading up to Gretta’s home, happiness of the kind she’d experienced precious few times in her life flowed through her. It was probably hormones making her hypersensitive to the role her new friends played in her life, but that didn’t detract from her overall sense of well-being.
And dread.
Because any day now, this illusion of having a true home and family would be shattered with one call from Hal announcing her car was done.
“Sit tight,” Heath said upon parking his truck alongside the shed. “I’ll help you down.”
“Thanks.” Ordinarily, she resented needing his help, but in her current mellow state, she not only appreciated his assistance, but welcomed—craved—his touch.
Sometime in the past twenty-four hours they’d turned a corner in their friendship. It hadn’t just been the making love that had solidified their bond, but an intangible something more she couldn’t have defined if her life depended upon it.
When Heath lifted her from her seat, had she imagined his hands lingering longer than necessary on her torso, or the pads of his thumbs brushing the tender sides of her breasts?
“No offense,” he teased, “but I swear you’ve put on twenty pounds since the first time I hefted you from the middle of the road.”
“Did you just call me fat?”
He laughed. “Absolutely. And you have no idea how happy it makes me to see you with meat on your bones. When you first showed up, you reminded me of a scrawny kitten. Now...” He hastily looked down. He still held her, his thumbs still singeing the tender sides of her breasts. Her breath hitched in anticipation and hope of him once again kissing her as if there was no tomorrow. Because for her—them—there wasn’t.
As soon as her car was fixed, she’d march into the proverbial lion’s den to make nice with her parents and give birth to her baby. If Heath had a lick of the sense she suspected him to possess, he’d do what it took to get back in his boss’s good favor, then return to at least a portion of his former life.
“Now...” When he released her, a part of her wanted to cling to him still. “You look healthy and pretty and like the kind of woman any kid would be happy to call Mom.”
His compliment shined a light on a long-buried place within her that had been dark for far too long. But it also made her crave more than just being a good mom. Would she ever have the chance to also be a good wife?
Chapter Twelve
Monday afternoon, while Libby met with Zoe, the gallery owner she’d met at the craft fair, Heath raised his jacket hood against the downpour. Zoe had suggested he return in about an hour, so he ducked into a nearby restaurant for a steaming bowl of chowder.
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