by Robyn Carr
It was around seven, the sun barely lowering in the sky, when the crowd began to thin. Winnie was whisked away in the Rhino, Mikhail was climbing the stairs to her house, the bride and groom were saying goodbye, the bridal arch was carefully loaded into the flower van. Cooper and some of the men were taking charge of trash while Carrie was packing up the little remaining food and Rawley dismantled the serving tables. They were drifting away in all directions—some going up the stairs to Cooper’s because there was a parking lot behind the bar, some heading down the beach to the marina lot, some taking off in their beach-mobiles or vans.
Since Ginger had come from the flower shop in the van with Iris, she was on her own. Iris offered to drop her at home or the shop, but Ginger was quite content to walk slowly across the beach and just enjoy the early evening. The beach was a beautiful place, in all its moods—gray and chilly, stormy, sunny or wet. She strolled, kicking along the cold water’s edge.
When she got near the marina, she saw a familiar face. He was leaning against the front bumper of his truck, one leg crossed over the other, holding a bottled water, watching her, smiling. Matt.
“Let me guess. You’re stalking me,” she said.
“Nah. Just happened to be in the neighborhood.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I wondered how you’d feel after the wedding. You wouldn’t go to Peyton’s ceremony. Memories, you said.”
“You should have told me you wanted to drive down. I could’ve invited you. I was allowed a guest.”
“I knew you’d be busy,” he said. “Working.”
She tilted her head to one side. “What if I’d been with a guy?”
“If you’d planned that, you would have mentioned it. I don’t know everything about you, Ginger, but I know you’re honest. And up front. You’ve told me a lot more about your issues than I’ve told you about mine.”
“I noticed that. So, you’re here because...?”
“You might want someone to talk to,” he said with a shrug. “How was it?”
“It was perfect,” she said, smiling. “Very informal and perfect. It was almost like a bunch of people were having a party on the beach and two broke away from the gathering to get married. People were standing around, visiting, having a drink. Then the judge—the same judge who married Iris and Seth, I take it—stood by the arch, cleared his throat and it began. Troy and Grace stepped up in front of him, the traditional vows were repeated, they said a few sweet things to each other and that was it. A kiss—extralong, I think. Then it was back to mingling and enjoying the day.” She looked up and around. “Perfect day for it.”
“It does seem perfect. Want to go for a ride?”
“Where?”
“Up the coast a little bit. Or maybe down the coast. Just to a lookout to watch the sunset.”
“Sure. You came a long way on a bet. I might’ve been busy.”
“I know. In fact I thought you might be. I thought maybe it would go on for hours. Or maybe you’d be out with friends from the wedding or something. It was just a spur-of-the-moment thing.”
“And if I was busy? You’d turn right around and go back?”
“I could. Or I could call Peyton and see if she’d put up with me for the night. She has mysteriously stopped lecturing me. I suspect Scott.”
With a hand at the small of her back, he directed her to the passenger side of the truck and helped her up and in. Then he got in the driver’s side and buckled up. “Do you care where we go?”
“You decide. We could just go to Cooper’s.”
“I thought after a day full of people you wouldn’t mind a little quiet.”
“Good idea,” she said. “I’m tired, that’s for sure. It was a packed week of work, sewing, trying to keep track of wedding-day details to help Grace, lots of flowers. Iris and I decorated the arch they used—it was so beautiful. And it’s such a funny place—Thunder Point. They invited a few people and everyone else heard about it or saw it and just came. Grace was ready for that,” she said with a laugh. “She and Troy ordered up enough food and drink to accommodate a huge crowd.”
“In my family, if one person has an event, there is no possible way to keep it small. If you’re invited and don’t go, you better be prepared to bring your X-rays to prove you had a broken bone. And if you’re not invited, you’re obligated to start a riot within the family. Nothing like a good feud.”
“Does that really happen?” she asked.
“You must have a very small family, if you have to ask.”
“It’s just us, mostly. The extended family is shrinking. All of Ray Anne’s immediate family have been gone a long time and she never had children. My grandparents are gone. My folks are in their sixties, my brothers almost forty...”
“All it takes is one renegade who decides to have a bunch of kids and suddenly you’re a country,” he said.
She laughed. “In the Basque culture, that’s not really a renegade, now is it?”
“My generation hasn’t been as prolific as some. Most of my brothers and sisters want a reasonable couple of kids. Except Ellie—she already has five and wants more. She started real young. Peyton wasn’t going to have any—then she met Scott and got knocked up before the wedding. But she doesn’t have time for too many. Plus, she loves that little clinic. She’s not going to trade off her medical profession for the mommy track.”
“What about you?” she asked. “Do you want children?”
“I certainly did,” he said. “But I’m a little old-fashioned. First I’m going to have to find a happy marriage. And just like you, that’s not going to happen soon. We’re stung, Ginger. We’re both still in recovery. Bad time to try to partner up with happily ever after in mind.”
“I suppose it is,” she said.
“This looks like a good spot,” he said, pulling into a wide lookout. He maneuvered the truck around and backed in.
“It’s going to be kind of hard to see like this,” she said.
“Wait, you’re going to love this.” He jumped out of the truck and ran around to her side, helping her out. He directed her to the back, lowering the tailgate to the truck bed.
Inside the bed of the truck were a couple of lounge pillows, blankets and a cooler. “Wow,” was all she could say.
“This was how my parents went to the drive-in movie. For myself, I’ve never been to a drive-in movie, but my dad explained courting in his day—couples couldn’t be alone in the backseat of a car, which is why drive-ins were invented, I think. So they got cozy in the back of a truck.”
“I’m kind of dressed up,” she said.
He smiled. “And beautifully, too. I’ve got you covered,” he said, and jumped into the truck bed. He unrolled and spread out a sleeping bag on the bottom of the bed, shook out a blanket and covered the lounge pillows, then jumped out. He laced his fingers together to assist her in getting in. “Hand on my head and up you go.”
“Is this legal?” she asked.
“What? Parking at the lookout? Why not?”
“I don’t know. Seems kind of...”
“Naughty?” he asked with a grin. “Come on, up you go.”
She climbed in, laughing as she kneeled and then, adjusting her skirt, crawled to the front of the bed where the pillows were. She couldn’t stop laughing as she sat down against the pillows, smoothed her skirt and relaxed. He sat beside her, and when she rubbed her arms because she was a little chilly, he grabbed another blanket and spread it over her, tucking it around her shoulders.
“This is genius,” she said.
He lifted the lid of the cooler. “Drink?”
“What have you got in there?” she asked, peering into the cooler.
“Water, soda, tea, a couple of juice drinks.”
“I’ll pass. After all, being a guy, you can pee out of the back of a truck. Life isn’t that simple for a girl.”
“We’re completely alone,” he said, mischief in his smile. “You could safely manage nearby.�
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Just as he said that, a car pulled in the lookout not far from them and an older couple got out and walked to the edge of the lookout. The gentleman had a very large camera hanging around his neck. They waved hello, then went about the business of photographing the sinking sun over the Pacific.
“Well, we’ll be alone again in a few minutes.”
“I’ll pass,” she said.
But it was sunset. And sunset over the Pacific was a good show. There wasn’t exactly a crowd, but there were quite a few cars that pulled in to watch. Some folks got out and walked around, some stayed in their cars, and every time a car pulled into the lookout, Ginger laughed. At one point she wanted her cell phone to take her own picture and realized that, of course, she hadn’t taken a bag to the wedding and had no phone. Matt got his out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Click away and send them to yourself.”
Cars came and went, and Ginger took a few pictures of the sunset. It was better out here than at Cooper’s, probably because it felt closer, there being no beach or bay between her and the setting sun. She snuggled under the warm blanket and before long darkness overtook them.
And they were alone.
Matt put an arm around her and pulled her closer, up against his big, warm body.
“If you do that, I might fall asleep on you,” she said.
He gently kissed her forehead. “You fall asleep if you want to. You’re safe.”
She felt safe. In fact, she felt cherished. Protected. It was a feeling she hadn’t had very often.
They were alone, quiet in the dark, and she felt a contentment wash over her. She’d like to stay here, just like this, forever. He turned toward her and gently kissed her forehead, her temple, her cheek, her ear. She lifted her lips, and he touched them with his. Then he adjusted slightly to take her into his arms and cover her mouth with a sweet and thorough kiss, holding her close.
Oh, God, he was a very good kisser. She let her lips part slightly. Very. Good.
She escaped the warmth of the blanket to wrap her arms around his neck and hold him closer. She gave herself to his mouth, his arms, and it was pure heaven. She tried to think when she last enjoyed physical affection like this and it was blurry. Long before she got pregnant. Oh, there’d been sex. But that feeling of being adored, of being swept away, of falling into some kind of bliss, that was long ago.
Headlights strafed them, causing them to reluctantly break apart. A highway patrol cruiser pulled up beside them. The spotlight at the top of the car shone on them. The trooper got out and stood up, looking at them over the top of the vehicle. “You folks okay there?”
“Well, we were,” Matt said with a laugh.
“What’s going on there?” he asked.
“We were making out, if you need to know.”
“Drinking?” he asked.
“No, sir,” Matt said. “You’re welcome to check. Got a cooler of drinks here—water, soda, et cetera. We’re enjoying the sunset. And then some.”
“Well, I hate to throw a wet blanket on this party, but I don’t think it’s wise, using this spot for romance. You aren’t breaking any laws, but you’re real isolated. You’d be better off getting a room. At least the door locks.”
“Point taken,” Matt said.
The trooper drove away, and Matt put his arms around her again. “You afraid to be out here alone? With just me?”
“I have a feeling you could keep me safe.”
He kissed her again. Long and wet and deep. “Ginger, I don’t know whether to congratulate myself or apologize. I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now, but we both know I’m a mess.”
She ran her fingers over his scruffy cheek. “Please don’t apologize.”
“I won’t,” he said. “I should get you home.”
“Whenever you’re ready.”
They were quiet on the drive back, but held hands all the way. When he parked in front of Ray Anne’s house, he leaned across the console to give her a brief kiss. And when he helped her out of the truck, he stood there with her for a moment, embracing her and kissing her deeply. She couldn’t help it, she was melting into him and wanting him. Wanting him so much.
“I had a nice surprise today,” she whispered against his lips. “Grace is giving up her little apartment over the shop. She offered it to me.” She smiled at him. “I’m going to have my own place soon.”
“How soon?” he asked, surprise in his voice.
“A couple of days, actually. Ray Anne has been so generous, but she’s used to living alone. And she does have a boyfriend.”
He lifted her hand and held it close between their bodies. “Do you have a boyfriend, miss?”
“Not sure,” she said. “But I think I want one.”
He gave her another quick kiss, then turned her toward the house. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Ten
He ran. He could’ve stayed overnight at his sister’s house and had a more leisurely drive in the morning, maybe even a little more time with Ginger, but instead Matt hit the road and headed north, though it was almost nine. He was a little panicked. Most definitely conflicted. He was falling in love with Ginger and it was a bad idea for him to be in love. If he recalled, he had two gears—not in love and thinking straight or in love and a complete idiot.
He wanted to fall into Ginger and drown in her. She was going to let him. And now she was getting her own place. Where they would be alone.
It was dark and he didn’t have the radio on, so he tried interviewing himself to see if he could figure out what was happening to him. Was he over Natalie? Most definitely. He might still find her beautiful but he didn’t want her back. So then, what was the problem? Well, he thought he’d known Natalie. He had trusted her, more or less. What had he failed to see? He had known she wasn’t perfect, and that was okay with him because he wasn’t perfect, either, and damn, she seemed good enough for him. So she wasn’t into the farm. He thought he’d been okay with that, but what if he wasn’t? What if he’d secretly expected her to come around? So she wanted to have more fun? Didn’t wives always want a little more than what they were getting? There wasn’t any Achilles’ heel he couldn’t live with, or so he’d thought. He’d had no illusions—she wasn’t going to wear overalls and rubber boots and dig in the ground. Ever. She would never share his passion. But he might’ve thought she’d eventually develop a grudging respect for it. He knew his brothers looked at him with a combination of envy and amusement. Natalie wasn’t practical or earthy, but she was gorgeous and laughed at his jokes. She would always wear sexy, inconvenient clothes and ridiculous high heels. And the most amazing underwear...and when she wrapped those long legs around him, he’d leave the earth for a while.
Of course he now realized you can’t build a real relationship on hot underwear and sexual abandon. There had to be more. A lot more.
He was falling in love with something more—a woman he could really talk to, a woman with values that matched more closely to his own, a woman who wanted a family. A quiet, gentle, loving woman with an inner strength so powerful it humbled him; a woman he respected. Admired. A woman who turned him on, made him so hot he wondered if he’d snap! He realized he was terrified of that, with good reason. Once he fell into Ginger and experienced her, he was not going to be able to go back. Ginger wanted a stable home life, a solid man to lean on, a grounded future. He wanted to be that man.
What if he was getting all the wrong signals? Again? She seemed so transparent, but...
It was pretty easy to look back at his brief marriage and realize Natalie hadn’t really surprised him that much. She wasn’t much of a giver, that Natalie. She might’ve done some selfish things that shocked him but when he looked back, they shouldn’t have. He should’ve seen it coming. She was focused on herself, her needs. He always knew it was all about Natalie being happy, being entertained, being satisfied, having lots of attention heaped on her.
And there was the problem. When he fell for a woman all the blood
drained from his brain and his eyes glazed over. He stopped thinking logically. He stopped being pragmatic.
What if he let go, let himself fall for Ginger? And what if it was a big mistake? What if there were some other things he couldn’t see right now, lurking, that would keep them from having a successful long-term relationship? Like? Oh, hell, he didn’t know. If he knew, he could check them out, examine them. Sometimes these things sneaked up on you.
He was going to have to be still and quiet for a little while. It would be a good time to dig, aerate, fertilize, trim and prune. He should be by himself and spend some time in his head. Thinking of all the possibilities, because Ginger was getting her own place. With a door that closed. With a bed in it.
If he was wrong about a woman he felt that strongly for again, it was going to be ugly.
* * *
Ginger hoped Matt had stayed over at his sister’s house Saturday night and would call her on Sunday. She hoped he had because it had been far too late by the time he could have begun his four-hour drive north. But her phone didn’t ring.
So she told herself a different story—he’d gotten up early and headed back to the farm, got caught up in the after-church family circus with twenty people at the table. So later, he would call her later.
She stayed busy, longing to talk to him. They’d just had that romance at the lookout, the kissing, the whispering, and she wanted to hear him talk about it. He was gentle but there was such a power there; she could feel the tension in his arms, his body, as he was reining it in, keeping all those runaway emotions under control.
She walked the beach in the early afternoon. She stopped off at Cooper’s bar, which was hopping because it was a sunny Sunday. Even Troy was working, getting out kayaks and paddleboards for rent.