by Noelle Adams
“Uh-huh. You sure do look nice for a not-date.”
Phil glanced down at himself. He was casual. He wasn’t dressed up. “It’s not a date.”
“Keep tryin’ to convince yourself of that if you want, honey.”
He gave her another wave as he walked back to the kitchen. Stella was just teasing. She was like that. She didn’t know the whole situation, and there was no way he could make it clear to her.
It didn’t matter.
He knew what he was doing.
He was having a good time, seeking closure. He wasn’t getting his hopes up. He was too experienced for that.
Rebecca showed up right at seven, looking pretty and curvy in capris and a V-neck top. She smiled when she saw him, and he showed her to the table.
She took her seat and then looked up at him questioningly as he stood beside the table. “Aren’t you eating with me?”
Phil’s heart did that jumpy thing again. “Oh. Sure. I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to.”
“Well,” she said with a flash of a smile, “it’s better than eating alone.”
So he sat down across from her, and they had crab bisque and local trout with scalloped potatoes and salad. Rebecca obviously loved it, if all her moaning over how delicious it was could be any indication.
They talked about the little towns in the area, and he tried to sound informed and amusing. She seemed to enjoy everything about the meal.
Phil definitely did.
He couldn’t remember having a better dinner in years.
For a moment, as they were getting up to leave, he seriously wondered if he’d ever had a better meal in his whole life.
She claimed she was too full for dessert yet, so they walked out onto the pier to watch the sunset.
“I do like it here,” she said after a while. She was standing very close to him, and Phil had to hold himself back from touching her. “It’s different from the ocean beaches.”
“Yeah. That’s what I like about it. It’s... smaller. Purer.”
“Purer?” Her eyes were glinting with teasing again.
“Maybe that’s the wrong word. I’m not sure what I’m even trying to say.”
“I know what you’re trying to say. Pure is a good word. It’s almost... innocent here.”
“Yeah,” he breathed. He’d turned his eyes to her face now, and he couldn’t look away.
Every cell in his body was reaching for her, yearning for her, pulling him in her direction.
She gazed up at him with her big blue eyes, and he saw her expression transform from amusement to something like awe.
There was no way he could hold back after that.
His hand lifted of its own accord, cupping her face to hold it steady as he leaned down into a kiss.
He brushed his lips against hers, his mind whirling with pleasure and excitement. With a great feat of restraint, he managed to hold back from deepening the kiss, from grabbing her to press her small body against his. He moved his lips against hers, and he felt her intake of a breath, the tightening of her body, the one little hand that came up to fist in his shirt.
She was leaning into him, moving her mouth eagerly, when he realized his body was already responding.
It was too soon.
He wasn’t ready for this.
This wasn’t what he’d call emotional distance.
So he forced himself to straighten up and drop his hand.
She was flushed and breathless. She’d lowered her lashes but kept darting quick looks up into his face.
“Why... why did you do that?” she asked at last.
“I don’t know. I guess I... wanted to.”
“Oh.” She inhaled and exhaled audibly. “But you still just want closure right?”
“Yeah. Just closure.”
That was what he was supposed to want, and so he was going to make himself want it.
“Okay. Good. That’s what I want too.”
Five
THREE DAYS LATER, REBECCA found herself wide awake at five forty-five in the morning.
She’d set her alarm for six since she wanted to walk on the beach for the sunrise, but she’d somehow woken up on her own before the alarm went off.
She’d gone to bed before ten the night before, and she’d slept soundly all night. She’d also had a two-hour nap the day before, and she’d done nothing but relax for the past four days.
Laura might have been wrong for tricking her into running into Phil, but she wasn’t wrong about Rebecca’s having been drained and overly tired.
She couldn’t remember the last time she felt as good as she did as she put on some clothes and gave her hair a quick brush before pulling it back into a ponytail. She’d take a shower later today—after she got in the pool for a while. For now she wanted to get out to the beach before the sun had fully come up.
It was already slightly light outside as she walked out onto the back patio and then down to the walkway that led over the dunes to the beach.
She was earlier than normal. Phil wouldn’t be out on the pier yet. She’d go out to fish with him later in the morning.
She’d done that for the past three days, and then she’d seen him again every evening.
Her time with him felt like part of her vacation. Pleasant. Indulgent. Not part of her regular life.
For the past few days, he hadn’t seemed like the person who’d walked out on her seven years ago or the bitter man she’d met those first two days on the pier. He seemed different. Like the sweet, earnest boy she used to know.
But she’d grown up too much to put any hope in their time together. They’d agreed this was closure, and she was holding firm to that knowledge.
She could have fun. Get to know him again. All the while never forgetting that she’d be heading home alone after the two weeks were over.
She never indulged herself in things she wanted to do that didn’t have a clear purpose, but this once she was going to do it.
She wanted to spend time with him, and so she would.
It would just be part of her vacation.
She wasn’t going to kiss him again though. He’d looked like he might want to again when they said good night every evening, but that one kiss on the pier had been too dangerous, too breathtaking.
Doing it again would be a mistake.
She was thinking through all that as she climbed down the walkway steps and then stepped onto the sand.
Her heart leaped dramatically when she raised her eyes to see that Phil was waiting for her on the beach.
He wore a pair of the cargo shorts he normally wore and a T-shirt with a big fish and a store logo across the front. He was barefoot and holding his shoes.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, smiling as she leaned down to slip off her sandals so she could feel the sand between her toes.
“Waiting for you.”
“But why?”
“You’d mentioned you wanted to see the sunrise.”
He said it as if it was perfectly natural for him to join her on her sunrise walk.
She was ridiculously glad to see him, and it made her worry a little.
She was doing this. And she thought overall it would be good for her to get closure so her relationship with Phil didn’t cast a pall over her entire future.
But she did need to be careful.
She didn’t want to go back home with another broken heart.
That would be very stupid.
“Did you want to be alone?” he asked, his smile fading slightly.
“No! No.” She smiled as she made her way toward him through the sand. “I’m glad you’re here.”
His expression relaxed. “Good. Let’s go down to where the sand is easier to walk on.”
They went down toward the water to the firm, wet sand, and then they turned in the opposite direction of the pier. The beach was quiet, only one runner far ahead of them and a lot of circling birds looking for food.
“How do you stay in such good sha
pe?” she asked after a minute, as she’d been idly admiring his shoulders and leanly built biceps.
“Why wouldn’t I be in good shape?”
She chuckled and gave a little shrug. “Well, you hang around and fish all day every day. I guess that’s some activity, but it’s not really heavy-duty exercise.”
His eyes rested on her face with a warm look as he responded, “There’s a gym a couple of towns away I use to work out a few times a week. Usually around lunchtime or in the early afternoons.”
“Oh.” She thought about that for a minute. “On the second day, you said there wasn’t a time during the day when you weren’t on the pier.”
“Ah. Maybe I wasn’t being entirely truthful that day.” He slanted her a teasing look.
She giggled. “You could have told me to come around lunchtime, and then we never would have seen each other again.”
“I know. I could have told you that. I don’t even know why I didn’t.”
“Probably part of you wanted closure, just like I do.”
His eyes were on the sparkling water of the bay. “Probably.”
There was a resonance in his voice she almost recognized but couldn’t quite identify.
It made her feel... fluttery.
They walked for about five minutes before they talked again. Rebecca had been mulling over old memories and spoke one of them aloud. “You remember back in high school, when we played that joke on Scott?”
Phil glanced over at her. “With the cars, you mean?”
“Yeah.” She was smiling as she thought back. “He was so upset when he found them all in pieces. And then so mad when he found out it was just a joke.”
Phil’s brother Scott was a year older than him. He was twenty-seven now and still lived in town and worked as a photographer. He was very good-looking and kind of a player, dating different women all the time. But back in high school he’d been supersmart and just a little geeky. He’d also always treated Phil like a little kid, bossing him around all the time.
Scott had loved putting together models of cars, and he’d prized his collection more than anything.
So Phil and Rebecca had started looking for old models they could take apart, and when they’d had enough, they’d hidden Scott’s models and left the pieces in their places instead so Scott would think his models were destroyed.
They’d laughed so hard at his dismay and then his outrage.
Scott had gotten even, but it had been worth it.
“Does Scott still build models?” Rebecca asked.
“I don’t think so. Right before he started college he seemed to... I don’t know... remake himself. He began to work out, and then he started dating and left all his old stuff behind.”
“I see him around pretty often. He does photos of events at Holiday Acres. He doesn’t make small talk with me, of course.”
“Yeah. That doesn’t surprise me.”
“I never see Kent at all.”
Kent was the oldest of the Matheson brothers. He was a year younger than Laura, so he must be thirty now.
“I don’t think anyone sees much of Kent anymore. He’s holed up in his cabin, avoiding the world. He calls me occasionally, but I haven’t seen him in like four years.”
“Have you seen Scott?”
“Yeah. He’ll come to visit. Usually about once a year.”
She thought about that for a minute, wondering what it would be like to only see her sisters once a year—or once every four years. It sounded terrible to her.
She saw all three of her sisters every single day.
“Our family was never like yours,” Phil murmured, evidently reading something on her face.
“Yeah. I know.”
“Dad was always... hard. Even before everything happened.”
She’d known that too. She well remembered how wounded Phil had been whenever his father got really mean.
It was one of the reasons she’d automatically believed her own father and not Phil’s when the conflict broke out.
Another reason had been that it was her dad. Of course she was going to believe him.
But he’d lied.
It still hurt to realize it.
Wanting to do something—anything—to show Phil that she sympathized and understood—she reached out and squeezed his hand.
She’d intended it as a brief gesture, but he tightened his grip so she couldn’t pull her hand away when she’d planned.
So she left her hand in his clasp, even when the tension relaxed in him again.
They walked along the beach hand in hand.
It had been a long time since she’d held hands with anyone. It felt more intimate, more special, than it should.
Phil didn’t say anything, and he wasn’t even looking at her much.
She wondered if it felt special to him too.
They walked about a mile before they turned around and started back. When they reached her walkway, Phil finally let go of her hand.
“I guess you need to go open the shop,” she said, suddenly feeling self-conscious as they stood facing each other on the sand.
“Yeah. I should.”
“Thanks for coming out to walk with me.”
“I wanted to.” He dropped his eyes as he spoke but then raised them again to her face.
The sudden warmth of tenderness in his expression stunned her speechless, motionless. She stared at him, her lips parted slightly.
Without saying anything else, he followed through with that look in his eyes. He reached out to brush a gentle hand down a strand of hair that had escaped from her ponytail. Then he leaned forward to press his lips against hers.
He hadn’t kissed her since that first time. She’d assumed he was trying to be smart and safe like she was. She certainly hadn’t been expected to be kissed at seven o’clock in the morning.
She swayed toward him immediately as his mouth brushed against hers, so softly it stirred nerve endings without any pressure at all. A pulsing began deep inside her—in her head, her heart, and even deeper, lower—as the sensations filled her.
She lifted a hand to hold on to his shirt and opened her mouth without volition, just needing to feel him even more.
Then his tongue was sliding along her lips, glancing against her tongue, and it felt so good she made a little sound at the back of her throat. Had she been able to think clearly, she might have been embarrassed by the little moan, but her mind wasn’t working that way at the moment.
The only thing that mattered was the touch of his mouth against hers, the way it was making her feel.
Phil’s body was tightening now, and he slid a hand to curve around the back of her skull, holding her steady as he deepened the kiss. Rebecca’s body throbbed in pleasure, and she pressed herself against him more fully, needing to feel his heat, his strength.
Before she knew it was happening, she’d wrapped both her arms around him, holding on to his hair with one hand and his neck with the other. Her tongue was tangling with his eagerly, and she whimpered when she felt one of his hands slide down to cup her bottom.
She wasn’t sure what caught her attention, but something distracted her. A noise from the beach.
She pulled her mouth away from his, panting as she turned to see a black lab running with clumsy enthusiasm after a ball its owner had thrown.
Rebecca stepped back, hot and flushed and still throbbing with all she’d been feeling.
Phil was flushed too, sweating a little. His body looked very stiff.
Neither one of them said anything immediately.
What the hell could they say?
They were supposed to be having a good time and getting closure, and they’d been devouring each other like they’d been starving for years.
The stupid thing was—the very stupid thing was—she wanted to kiss him again.
She wanted to so much she could barely stop herself.
But she never did what she wanted if it might hurt someone else, and this time the pers
on who might get hurt was her.
With a ragged breath, she managed to say, “Okay. I’m going in now.”
“Okay. Good plan.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
She darted a look at him again. He clearly wasn’t going to move until she did. So she summoned all her determination and managed to climb up the steps to the walkway.
There.
She’d done it.
Now she could go back to the house.
As long as she could manage not to whirl around and throw herself into Phil’s arms.
She wasn’t that stupid though.
That would be far more than closure.
She wasn’t going to do that to herself again.
Six
TWO DAYS LATER WAS Sunday, and Phil took the day off.
Since he worked almost every day during the summer, he had the freedom to take days off when he wanted to. He usually didn’t unless Larry started to pressure him about taking care of himself.
Instead of using his day off in his normal fashion, hanging around watching TV and taking it easy until he went out to a bar in the evening, he asked Rebecca if she wanted to see more of the area.
She did, so he took her around some of the surrounding towns, exploring the beaches and quaint downtown areas with cute antique, craft, food, and primitives shops.
It was all familiar to Phil and not particularly impressive, but Rebecca appeared to love it and find it all fascinating. They had a late lunch at a local restaurant Phil liked that served “home cooking,” and they’d gotten bread pudding for dessert, which Rebecca enjoyed with visceral pleasure that got Phil imagining all kinds of things he shouldn’t be.
That might have been why he asked out of the blue, “Are you still mad at me?”
She blinked, clearly taken aback by the question as she put down her spoon. “I’m not mad at you. Have I acted like I’m mad about something?”
“I don’t mean today. I mean...” He wished he hadn’t brought the topic up. It was stupid. Useless. Vaguely mortifying. He was normally a lot more contained than this.
Her blue eyes widened. “You mean about back then?”
He nodded, avoiding her eyes.
“I-I don’t know. We’re doing this for closure, right? And I think it’s helping.”