For a Monday, the place was surprisingly crowded, but he figured the rain had driven tourists from Shore Acres or Cape Arago State Parks into town for something to do.
The next table over held a family of three—parents fussing over a newborn girl who wanted nothing to do with her bottle.
While waiting for his food, Heath alternated his view between the baby and the rivulet-soaked view of the gallery that would hopefully soon house Libby’s art.
He’d promised her that if she worked up the courage for this visit, he, in turn, would contact his CO, but as yet, he hadn’t found the nerve. It hurt enough missing Patricia while a continent away from where they’d shared their lives. How much worse would it be, blasted by daily reminders like their house, the beach where they’d walked Sam, their friends, her favorite coffee shop or nail salon or the hospice where she’d died? He couldn’t bear the vision of the cemetery where she’d been buried.
Once again eyeing the couple with their baby, he struggled with the knowledge that he’d soon be losing Libby, as well—most likely before she even had her baby.
The knowledge shouldn’t have bothered him, but did. Just as she had with seemingly every other inhabitant of Bent Road, she’d unwittingly worked her charm on him, as well.
The waitress brought his soup.
The recipe’s creamy warmth initially eased his chill, but the more he thought about Libby leaving, him leaving, the more antsy Heath grew. Maybe he wasn’t ready to return to his job? There was the matter of Sam to consider. Sure, he could take the dog with him to Virginia Beach, but who would watch him when he was off on a mission? He supposed he could ask Hattie to watch him, or even Pandora—the wife of another one of his team members—but he wouldn’t want to impose.
Maybe it was best he stayed put.
In Bent Road, every day was predictable. No highs or lows. Just status quo. At the moment, that suited him just fine.
What about the day you found Libby? What about the night you made love to her in the pool? Weren’t those good times?
That hadn’t been lovemaking, but sex. Satisfying an itch.
He instantly regretted even thinking such cruel words. She deserved better than a one-night stand.
What do I deserve?
Patricia had wanted him to start a new life without her. He just wasn’t sure he could.
What would Patricia think of Libby? Would the two of them have been friends? Heath liked to think so.
The rain had finally let up, but the clouds were still ominous and low.
“Need anything else?” the waitress asked.
“No, thanks. Just the check.”
After paying, Heath still had fifteen minutes to kill, so he rounded the block. Thinking, thinking, wondering what was the right thing for him to do.
He’d only burned off five minutes of time and zero nervous energy, so he pulled out his cell and took a deep breath.
His CO answered on the second ring.
“Commander Hewitt, it’s Heath Stone. I know last time we spoke, I told you I wouldn’t be coming back, but, sir, I’ve had a change of heart and—”
“Stop right there, son. Are you one hundred percent certain this is what you want? I pulled strings to get you this long of a leave, but I’ll move heaven and earth to get you back—if you’re sure.”
Am I? If he screwed this up, there wouldn’t be another chance. On the other hand, if he chose to spend the rest of his life on the course he was on now, he’d not only end up old and alone, but with nothing to show for it. At least if he re-upped, he could be helping people. That sense of once again having purpose was good.
“Stone?” his CO nudged. “Can I count on you to not flake out on me again?”
Heath took a deep breath, then sharply exhaled. “Yes, sir.”
*
“THANK YOU, ZOE,” Libby said. “I’ll hopefully get at least fifteen or so pieces made before I leave for Seattle. After that, we’ll talk.”
“Sounds perfect.” After a hug, Zoe added, “Let me know when you have your baby. I want to make sure my new favorite artist and her daughter are healthy and ready to get back to work.”
Libby laughed. “Once my mom recovers from the shock of being a surprise grandmother, I’m sure she’ll send formal announcements. I’ll add you to her list.”
She left the gallery, accompanied by the happy tingling of bells on the door.
Outside, the rain had stopped, although the clouds didn’t look quite ready to make way for sun. Didn’t matter. Libby felt sunny all on her own.
The baby kicked, and she rubbed the spot near her navel. “You’re excited, too, huh?”
Libby glanced up to have her afternoon look that much brighter when she found Heath strolling her way. If possible, he seemed taller, his shoulders more broad. His smile took her breath away.
Acting on pure impulse, she ran to him as best she could, crushing him in a hug. “Zoe not only took all five of the pieces I brought her today, but she wants more! I promised her fifteen! Plus, she charges like double what I ever have. Do you have any idea how much money that is? If all of those sell, I’m rich!”
Not thinking, she kissed him with joy.
And then he kissed her back, at first tenderly, but then with an urgency that tempted her to draw him into a private alley to take things to the next level.
“I’m happy for you.” He cupped her face with his hands, kissing her again. “You’re the first real artist I’ve met.”
“Oh, yeah?” She kissed him.
“Yeah...” As if only just now realizing they stood on the sidewalk of a busy street, making out like horny teens, he shook his head before releasing her and stepping back. “Looks like it’s been a big day for both of us.”
“What happened for you?” she asked while they walked to his truck.
“I worked up the courage to call my commanding officer.”
“And?”
“And...he says he’ll take me back.” This was huge. Why didn’t he look more pleased?
“Heath, that’s wonderful! I’m proud of you for taking charge of your life. Why don’t you seem more psyched?”
“I am,” he said, opening her door, “but he wants me back sooner than I’d expected.”
“How soon?”
“Two weeks.” Before her baby was due. For some unfathomable reason, the thought sickened her. Odds were her car would be fixed way before then, and once she returned to Seattle, her time with Heath and his mom and uncle would be nothing more than a beautiful memory.
“At least that gives you time for proper goodbyes. What happens with Sam?” When he helped her into the truck there was the usual tangling of arms, but this time with the added pressure of a heady awareness she knew better than to act upon. If she had her way, she’d kiss him again and again, but especially now, she knew for her own emotional well-being she had to keep her hands to herself.
“I want to take him with me, but considering how often I’ll be gone, he’ll probably be happier with Mom and Fred.”
A knot gripped her throat, threatening to close off her oxygen supply. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. “Sounds like a good plan, although I’m sure he’ll miss you.”
“Not as much as I’ll miss him, but your speech back at the beach gave me a much-needed kick in the ass. You were right. About how I’ll feel better helping others instead of sitting around my cabin day after day, moping about what might’ve been.”
Don’t cry.
“This may sound crazy,” he said, bracing himself on her still-open door while rain pattered the windshield, “but the more I’m around you, the more I wonder if instead of me saving you, it was the other way around.”
*
“SO MUCH EXCITEMENT for one day,” Gretta said with tears shining in her eyes after Libby and Heath had shared their news. She stepped out from behind the motel’s reception desk to deliver double hugs. “I’m so proud of you both. But with you,” she said to her son, pinching his cheeks, “I’m also a litt
le miffed. Why didn’t you warn me this was your plan?”
Libby felt as though she was intruding upon the intimate mother-and-son scene. A part of her also felt guilty. If it hadn’t been for her prodding, would Heath be staying home? Safe and sound in his cabin?
He shrugged and turned away from her to stare out the window. “I wasn’t entirely sure myself. After talking with Mason, it just sort of happened. But I’m glad it did. It’ll be good for me. I’m restless. I’ve got to...” When he spun to face her, his eyes had welled. “I’ve got to move on, you know? Not forget. Never forget. But...”
“I understand,” Gretta said as she hugged him again. “And I completely, wholeheartedly agree with your decision—at least if you’ll let Sam stay with me. I can’t bear to think of him being cooped up in a kennel whenever you’re gone.”
Heath laughed. “Agreed—especially since I was just about to ask if you’d watch him.”
As Gretta was wont to do, she turned the night into an impromptu party, inviting not only Mason and Hattie, but Hal and his sons, Eloise and the other women from her poker club and a few of the single fishermen who happened to be staying at the motel.
By nine that night, the scent of steaks on the grill and classic country music filled the cool night air, and Darryl and Terryl played a rowdy game of football in the pool. What little peace the music didn’t fill, their rowdy shouts did.
Chilled, seated alone on one of the deck chairs, Libby smiled when Hattie wandered up, offering one of Mason’s U.S.Navy sweatshirts. She was happy to take it, but embarrassed that even the men’s extra-large strained to cover her belly.
“Thank you,” Libby said. “I didn’t realize how cold I was.”
“You’re welcome.” Hattie sat next to her. “I always carry layers wherever we go. Seems like ever since I had Charlie, I’m always either super hot or super cold. Never just right.”
“Where is the baby?” Libby asked.
“In the rec room, napping in his carrier. Gretta offered to keep an eye on him.”
The twins chased Sam, who had as much energy as the munchkins.
Fred, on the other hand, had fallen asleep by the grill.
Hattie said, “You’ve got to be thrilled about your big art deal, huh?”
Nodding, Libby said, “Zoe even mentioned the possibility that other galleries she’s connected with all up and down the West Coast might eventually request to carry my work. It hasn’t fully sunk in that I’ll soon be able to support myself, but also that I no longer have to constantly travel to art shows to make my living.”
“Has this changed where things stand with your folks? Do you think maybe now you might not even go to Seattle?”
Libby shook her head. “I owe it to my daughter to make things right with her grandparents. They’re good people. The last thing I want is for her to grow up with no sense of family. I take full responsibility for my part in the events that came between us. I just hope that after all this time they’ll accept some responsibility, as well.”
“I hope so, too,” Hattie said. “And since I’m already being nosy, where do things stand with you and Heath?”
“What do you mean?” Libby’s heart lurched. Had he told Mason about their wild night in the pool? And had Mason in turn told his wife?
“How do you feel about him leaving?”
Awful. The more she thought about it, the more depressed she grew. Which made no sense. They barely knew each other. Why couldn’t she be happy for him to be getting his life back in order? “I think it’s great that he’ll be rejoining his friends, doing whatever it is SEALs do.”
“Sure—it’s great for him, but, Libby, what about you? I’ve seen the way you two are around each other. Tonight, when you were eating, he hovered, catering to your every need. A guy doesn’t do that unless he’s trying to impress.”
“You’re imagining things.” Only Libby had noticed, too. And liked the extra attention. In her heart of hearts, she’d even fantasized about a repeat pool performance, but obviously that wasn’t meant to be.
“Uh-huh...” Hattie grinned. “How amazing would it be if before Heath leaves, he proposes?”
Libby coughed so hard that Heath jogged over to make sure she wasn’t choking. “You all right?”
“Fine.” She had been. Then he ran his hand up and down her back, releasing all manner of delicious havoc along her spine.
“Good,” he said. “You gave me a scare. Need anything?”
“No, thank you.”
“Okay, well, Mason and I are deep into shoptalk, but flag me down if you’re thirsty or need a snack.”
The second Heath was out of earshot, Hattie asked, “You don’t think that was a bit much? I could sit here for a week and it wouldn’t occur to Mason to ask me if I need a drink.”
Libby thought about Hattie’s reflections in regard to Heath for a long time after her new friend was gone. In fact, she couldn’t stop thinking about the downright nutty ideas where she and Heath were concerned—especially that bit about him proposing.
Even though the very idea was ludicrous, the one thing Libby couldn’t seem to shake was that from the moment the suggestion left Hattie’s mouth, Libby realized her answer would be yes.
Not that it mattered, she mused, standing at the rec room’s sink, washing serving platters. Even if she and Heath were an item—which they weren’t—no way would he be in the market for a second wife. Not when he’d already had perfection.
But because she had nothing better to dwell on while scrubbing a deviled egg plate, what would it hurt to indulge in a daydream at this time of night?
Heath would be everything Liam hadn’t been. Dependable. Loyal. Take-her-breath-away sexy. Judging from the times she’d watched him play with Vivian and Vanessa, he’d also be great with kids. She sighed.
“Give you a buck-fifty for your thoughts?” He’d snuck up beside her, causing her to jump.
“That’s an awful lot of cash, big spender.” She grinned in his direction, willing her pulse to slow when he grinned right back.
“What can I say? The way your forehead was so adorably scrunched in concentration, I figured I’d for sure get my money’s worth.”
No kidding! “Sad for you—” she crossed her fingers beneath the suds for the fib she was about to tell “—that the only thing on my mind is wondering how to best tackle the baked bean pan.”
“How about you sit—like you’re supposed to be doing—and let me scrub it?”
“That’ll work.” She wiped her hands on a dish towel, then backed into the nearest chair, content to let her gaze wander to his strong shoulders and biceps and the way he did an excellent job of filling out the backside of his faded jeans.
After cleaning the cast-iron skillet that had held the beans, he asked, “What’re your plans for tomorrow?”
“I almost forgot. It’s the Fourth, isn’t it?”
“Yes, ma’am. There’s a parade and the carnival we still haven’t been to. The barbecue cook-off in the park, and then fireworks at the beach.”
“I’m exhausted just hearing about all of it. Got anything more low-key? Assuming you were asking me to tag along with you to any of those events?”
“I was asking, and what do you think of fishing? I know of a nice, shady spot by the river that I can pull the truck right up to.” He finished washing a baking sheet. “If we have any luck, I’ll catch you a couple fat trout, then fry them for you for dinner. Sound good?”
Unable to speak past yet another knot of happiness in her throat, she nodded.
“You okay?” he asked while drying his hands on the same towel she’d used.
“I’m great.”
“Then what’s with the waterworks?”
“I’m not sure...” Only she was. Honestly, her latest round of tears were because never in her life had she shared a more intense chemistry with a man. Heath held the power to infuriate her one minute, then have her laughing the next. He was sexy-hot, but also tender and kind. If she h
adn’t been carrying another man’s baby, and if he hadn’t been headed to relaunch his career in Virginia Beach, who knew what the two of them might’ve shared?
Chapter Thirteen
“Don’t yell at me!” Libby said above the river’s gurgling rush when she’d fouled up his fly rod yet again. Heath had promised this stretch of river would be gentle, but he’d failed to account for the previous day’s deluge.
“I’m not yelling. But, Lib, you’re not even trying to do it right. Plus, we really should be out by that deeper pool, but in your condition, I’m not sure that’s such a great idea.”
“You think?” she snapped. Had it been only last night when she’d thought he’d make good relationship material?
“Okay, let’s try this again.” Making her all the more flustered, he stood behind her, easing his arms around her, covering her hands in what she assumed was an attempt to demonstrate the proper way to hold a rod. Alas, all it really achieved was making her entire backside tingle.
“What I need you to do is hold the pole parallel to the water.”
What I need you to do is kiss the spot on my neck where your warm breath is making me all achy.
“Next, keeping your elbows by your sides, you’ll need to draw the pole back to about the two o’clock position.”
Or, we could just stop pretending I’ll ever catch on to this technique and spend the rest of the afternoon making out on that picnic blanket you stashed in the truck bed.
“Once the line’s straight, snap it back to ten o’clock.”
Oh—she could snap something, all right. Maybe his boxers’ elastic waistband?
“See how the line’s straightening out? Now, you want to guide the fly, presenting it like a gift to our waiting fish....”
She licked her lips. Oh, my, what she’d love to gift him with...
“Make sense?”
“I’m sorry, what?” Was it possible to actually be dizzy from desire? Did he have any idea how good he smelled? Like a leathery, sweat-salty blend that encompassed her every male fantasy?
“Libby? Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said?”
“Yes, but—” my rich fantasy world is way more entertaining “—maybe I’m not cut out to be a fisherwoman?”
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