by Carrie Elks
She swallowed. “I was thinking it could be a problem for you.” She gestured at him to emphasize her point. “You’re a good looking man. If we’re pretending to be dating won’t that scupper any chance you have with anybody else.”
His eyes dipped to her lips. “I don’t want anybody else.”
A thrill shot through her at his words. Even though she knew he didn’t mean them that way.
He gave a little chuckle, as though he could read her mind. “I guess what I’m saying is a few months of celibacy would be worth it. But what about you? You’re young and single, what if you wanted to date? I don’t want to be the person standing in your way.”
“I’m a single mom. Finding somebody to date is like finding a unicorn.” Her voice was warm. Amused. “Seriously, it’s not going to ruin my non-existent sex life.”
Rich blinked again. “Okay.” His voice was thin. “How about we agree that if either of us meet somebody we’d like to date we talk about it. We can have a get out clause.”
“It’s not going to happen for me, but thanks. And yeah, I’m happy with that if you are.”
There was a strange look in his eyes that she couldn’t quite understand. The way he stared at her made her cheeks flush. As though he knew exactly how to make something like that happen. Her skin blazing, she pulled her eyes from his, her gaze sweeping to his hands. They were big, strong, and she knew from their trip to the ER how gentle they could be.
For a moment she imagined him touching her. Awakening her body cell by cell. If he could set her on fire just by looking at her, how would she react at his touch?
He wet his lips with the tip of his tongue. “Okay. What time are you dropping Isla to her friend’s house tomorrow?”
“At nine. They’re both early risers.”
“Then I’ll pick you up at nine-thirty. If that works for you?”
“Yeah, that works.” She nodded, a smile playing at her lips. Because tomorrow she got to pretend that she was Rich Martin’s girlfriend. It was weird how much that thought excited her.
Pretend. That’s all.
And that was fine. Better than fine. She’d get all of the fun stuff without any of the angst. She knew their little arrangement had a time limit, and then they’d go back to being neighbors and friends.
But while it lasted, she’d get to enjoy being with the strong, handsome doctor with eyes like the ocean. And there was something exciting about that.
The Sunshine Art gallery was nestled in a chic row of shops to the south of Angel Sands itself, separated from the beach by wide, grassy dunes, whose emerald blades seemed to dance in the breeze. To the left was a dress shop that Meghan knew was beyond her means, and to the right was a sunglasses shop full of expensive designer lenses.
If the boardwalk was all about fun and tourists, this part of town was about money and elegance. It was midway between the town itself and the Silver Sands Resort, which attracted the kind of top notch guests these shops would thrive off.
Rich parked on the road behind a dark blue van, and clicked his tongue, muttering something about his sister being early. Turning to Meghan, he gave her a disarming smile. “Are you ready for this?”
“Of course. Let’s go.” She was interested to see if he treated her any differently, now that she was his girlfriend – in name at least. Reaching out to open her door, he put his hand over hers.
“I’ll come around,” he told her, his voice certain. “And help you out.”
It was strange how such a small gesture made her feel warm. He reached for her hand, helping her stand and then closing the door behind her, leading her over to the gallery where he pressed the buzzer on the front door.
His fingers were threaded through hers. His hold felt reassuring. She squeezed her fingers a little and he squeezed back.
“Okay?” he murmured.
“I’m a little nervous,” she admitted. She didn’t want to let him down, that was all.
He brushed the back of her hand with his thumb. How did he make her react just by touching her? “It’ll be fine. We’ve just started dating. We’re getting to know each other. There are no right or wrong ways to act. Just be yourself.”
The door opened and behind it was a tall, elegant brunette, with shining waves tumbling to her shoulders, and a face perfectly made up. She was wearing the kind of dress you saw in the shop next door – made of luxurious fabric that clung to her every curve.
Her eyes swept from Rich to Meghan, then back again. “I didn’t know you were bringing a friend,” she said, her voice tight.
Rich slid his hand around Meghan’s waist, pulling her against him. “We have a brunch date, I figured it would kill two birds with one stone. Meghan, this is Carlyn, she runs the gallery. Carlyn, this is Meghan.”
“I suppose you’d better come in.” She looked flustered. “Your sister is in the back.”
Rich kept his arm firmly around Meghan’s waist as they walked inside. The interior was as beautiful as the window, with shelves displaying beautiful sculptures that captured the light, walls filled with paintings that depicted the beach, the city, and portraits, too. Her eyes didn’t know where to look first.
“Rich!” a young woman in her early twenties called out, propelling herself on her wheelchair to navigate her way around the shelves. “I didn’t know you were bringing somebody.” There was a cheeky smile on her face as she gave Meghan the once over. It had to be his sister, they had the same dark hair and piercing blue eyes. But her face was softer, with gentle curves rather than his hard angles.
“We’re heading off to brunch after this, so Meghan kindly agreed to come.” His voice was full of affection as he released Meghan’s waist and dipped to brush his lips across his sister’s cheeks.
Hadn’t he said his parents died when he was nineteen? For the last decade and a half it had been him and his sister. No wonder they were close. Belle had to have been a young teenager when they died. How hard that must have been.
“Belle, this is Meghan,” Rich said, looking over his shoulder at her. “Meg, this is my sister.”
“It’s a pleasure.” Meghan grinned at Belle, holding her hand out.
“Hi. This is a lovely surprise. It’s lovely to meet you.” She turned to Rich. “She’s pretty. Well done.”
Carlyn cleared her throat. “We should start talking about the show. I have to open the gallery in an hour and I have a lot to do before that. Belle, Richard, would you like to come to the office.” She gave Meghan a cold glance. “Maybe you’d like to look around while we talk. My office isn’t big enough for all of us.”
Belle glanced at them both. “It’s fine, I can handle this. Why don’t you and Meghan take a look around the gallery while we talk business. I want to pick your brain later about the layout for the show.”
Carlyn frowned. “We need a second signatory for the contract. I really need him to come in, too.”
Rich looked at Belle. “Call me when you’re ready and I’ll come in to sign it.” He’d go in with her now if she wanted. But it was her call, not his.
“I will.” Belle winked. “Now you two kids have fun without us.” She turned her chair and followed Carlyn to the office. Before she closed the door, Carlyn took another glance at Meghan and Rich, her eyes dark with annoyance.
Rich slid his arm around her waist, kissing her brow with his warm, soft lips. Meghan looked up at him with surprise.
“Just go with it,” he murmured. Carlyn slammed the door shut and he released his hold on Meghan. “Sorry.” He grimaced. “She just pisses me off.”
“She didn’t seem that bad.”
He swallowed. “She just finds it hard taking no for an answer. Thank you for being here, you made my life easier.”
It was weird, because her heart was thumping against her chest. Her skin felt like it was burning where he’d pressed his lips against her brow. For a moment, she’d imagined him cupping her jaw, sliding his lips down her cheek to the corner of her mouth.
Ug
h. What was wrong with her? She was here as a decoy, nothing else. This wasn’t real, no matter how much her body reacted to him.
“Shall we look at some paintings?” he suggested, his voice light, as though he had no idea how he affected her.
“Sure, I’d like that.” She smiled at him, walking over to a seascape with stormy skies and a boat surrounded by foaming waves.
Looking up at the painting, she let herself get lost in it, because she definitely didn’t want to get lost in him.
10
“Rich, look!” A high voice echoed from the pool as he walked back from his afternoon run on the beach. “I’m allowed to swim again. I’m all healed, see? Mom says I can go in the ocean next week. How cool is that?”
“That’s very cool.” Rich nodded, trying to keep his face serious.
“Will you come, too? Mom said you might.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Isla padded across the concrete pool area, weaving in and out of the mostly-empty beds. Water was dripping off of her, leaving a dark wet trail from the pool to where he was standing.
She lifted her foot, twisting her leg to try to show him her sole, but then she started to wobble, her arms windmilling in an attempt to stop herself from falling. Scooting down, he reached for her, clasping her tiny body to steady her, and she grinned, her hair dripping water onto his sneakers.
“Whoa there. You okay?”
She grinned. “Yep. But I got to show you. It’s so cool. Mom thinks I’m going to have a tiny scar. Did you know that scars tell the story of your past? Mom has a scar from when I was born, but she hides it beneath her clothes.” Isla finally took a breath. “Do you have any scars?”
“A couple. One on my arm where I fell off my bike when I was your age. And another on my eyebrow.”
“Let me see.”
He smiled at her bossiness. “Where’s your mom?” He hadn’t seen Meghan since Saturday, though he’d thought about her a lot. Thought about the way she looked at him in the art gallery, and how good it had felt to kiss her soft skin. It had made him want more.
So much more.
And this was why he shouldn’t play with fire.
“She’s still at work. Gloria brought me down. See?” She gestured over her shoulder with her thumb, like she was hitching a ride.
He looked in the direction she was pointing, and sure enough Gloria was sitting on one of the sun beds, fully dressed, clashing her knitting needles together in a fury. She gave him a wave, and he grinned back.
“Gloria says it’s fine for me to swim without her as long as the lifeguard is here. I’m a strong swimmer. I got my hundred meter badge before anybody else my age. My mom says I’m like a porpo…” She frowned. “Por…”
“Porpoise?” Rich suggested.
“That’s it.” Isla nodded. “Can I see your scar?”
“Sure.” He leaned down and she studied his eyebrow carefully, her face pinched as though she was concentrating hard.
“There’s no hair there,” she said.
“Hair can’t grow on a scar,” he told her. “That’s why it looks a bit strange.”
She traced it with her finger, her own brows pulling together. “Why can’t hair grow?”
He smiled. He was used to answering kids’ questions in the ER, but not by the pool. He rarely spoke to people here. He wasn’t around enough to make friends with his neighbors, and he was all too aware of what some of the women around here called him.
“Because scar tissue is a little different than normal skin tissue. It’s kind of like a layer of protection. It doesn’t have hair follicles or blood vessels to help hair grow. So it’ll always stay bare.”
“Does that mean my scar won’t get hair either?”
He was trying not to laugh. “That’s right. It’ll stay hair free, like the rest of your foot.”
“Gloria has hairy feet,” Isla whispered. “I saw them the other day when she took off her slippers.”
This time the laugh escaped. Isla started laughing, too, her eyes shining with amusement. “Mom says you’re really smart.”
The abrupt change of subject made him blink. “Did she?”
“Yep. She says you know everything about the body. That you had to study it for years. So that’s how you know how to fix people like me.”
She was so damn cute, with little freckles dotted across the bridge of her nose, just like her mom’s.
“Yeah, it takes a long time to become a doctor.”
“Do you think I could do it?” she asked, tipping her head to the side. The movement sprayed more water over his legs.
“For sure. If you studied hard.”
“Because girls can do anything they want, right? Mom told me that.” She was sassy as hell. He loved it.
“Yep. That’s right. Some of the best doctors I know are women.”
“That’s good. I’m going to swim again now.” She lifted her hand and rushed back toward the pool, jumping in and making a splash that peppered the edges. With a smile still curling his lips, Rich walked to the apartment building, giving Gloria a wave as he stepped through the doorway.
She nodded and gave him a strange smile. As though she knew something he didn’t.
Which wasn’t that surprising. She pretty much knew everything that went on around here.
“What exactly did she say?” It was a beautiful, sunny California morning, and he was at his sister’s house. They were sitting on her back deck, overlooking her yard. Flowers had started to bloom in the low-level planters she loved to tend, and their colors were bright against the emerald green grass. When she’d moved into this cottage, he’d arranged to have the yard adapted to her wheelchair, and for the grass to be replaced with artificial turf that she wouldn’t need to have cut every week. Instead, she spent her time planting and feeding the flowers that brought her so much joy.
“That she might have a clash on the day we’d agreed on. Apparently, her business partner had agreed to have a function there without running it by her first.” Belle’s eyes were shining, the sun reflecting off the water that was pooling in them. “She was very apologetic.”
He bet she was. Carlyn hadn’t mentioned anything about another booking when they’d gone in on Saturday. It couldn’t be a coincidence that within a few days of her seeing him with Meghan she was canceling on his sister.
Dammit. He’d thought he had this handled. And now his sister was trying not to cry because of his own stupid mistakes.
“Did she say if you could hold your show on a different day?” he asked, his voice low.
She shook her head. “She just said she might have to cancel, but she’d confirm by the weekend.” She pulled her lip between her teeth, her eyes still shining. “I have no idea what to do. All the dates at the college are full and there are no other galleries with availability. I’ve already started sending out invitations as well.” She wiped her face with the back of her hand. “I really thought it was agreed.”
“It was.” His jaw was tight. “We signed a contract. I’ll go see her and find out what the hell is going on. She can’t break a contract without having consequences.” Christ, he was furious. He had to curl his hands into his fists to calm down.
“Would you do that for me?” She looked up at him, her lip trembling.
“Of course I would. You know that. You just have to ask and it’s done.” He owed her that much. Truth was, he owed her so much more. It was a debt he could never repay.
“Thank you.” She slid her hand into his, squeezing his fingers tightly. “And now that I’ve got my sniveling out of the way, maybe you can tell me how long you’ve been dating the lovely Meghan. She was so much fun on Saturday. She has a real eye for paintings.” For the first time all afternoon, Belle smiled, and it was like the sun coming out. “I like her, Rich.”
So did he. And that was a big problem.
“Mommy, did you know Rich has a scar on his eyebrow?” Isla’s voice was soft and full of sleep, though s
he was fighting it. She was laying beneath her pink coverlet, her cheeks still rosy from her shower, her hair plaited into two braids so it would be easier to tame for school tomorrow.
“Does he?”
“Yep. And I told him about your scar, too. Did you know your scar will never get any hair? Which is good, really, because who wants a hairy stomach?”
Ah, the joys of children. The inappropriateness made Meghan want to giggle.
“Gorillas probably want hairy stomachs.”
“True.” Isla nodded, her face serious. “But you’re not a gorilla, are you?”
“Not the last time I looked.”
“Can I see your scar again?” Isla looked up at her, hopefully. She was really working on not going to sleep tonight.
“Just for a moment, then you have to promise to go to sleep. You’re catching the bus to school tomorrow, remember?”
“I remember.” Isla nodded. “I’m going to sit next to Casey.”
Meghan pulled her tank up, and rolled her yoga pants down, until the shiny white scar from her c-section was visible.
“This is where I came out,” Isla said softly, tracing her finger along the scarred skin. “Because I was special and wanted to be born so quickly.”
“That’s right.” Meghan’s chest contracted, because sometimes the day of Isla’s birth felt all too vivid. The shock of early labor, the fear when she was told she’d need an emergency cesarian because she was at risk of losing the baby.
And all those questions. Did they want her to contact the father? Her parents? And each time she’d had to say no. None of them were interested. She had to be strong and do it all on her own.
“Can you tell me about my daddy again?” Isla asked, falling back onto her pillow. “I like that story.”
“Sure.” She’d never hidden the truth of Isla’s father from her, though she’d kept the details as child-friendly as possible. It was natural that she was curious about where she came from, but Meghan never wanted her to feel abandoned either. It was a fine line, and right now she kept it light.