She blinked at him, didn’t say anything for a long moment, and then shrugged again. “Maybe some other day. I wouldn’t even know where to begin to make that happen today. By the time I gathered all of those supplies, it would be late and I’d be too stressed out from wasting time to fully enjoy it.”
Unable to help himself, Julian laughed. “You’ve got to be the only woman I know who would feel stressed out by doing what you need to in order to relax.”
Finishing her coffee, Charlotte stood and gathered her trash. “I can’t help it, it’s how I’ve always been. If I happened to have a beach umbrella or one of those low chairs hanging around, maybe it wouldn’t be such a big deal. But I don’t. So…again, moot point.”
“Agree to disagree,” he replied, coming to his feet.
“What does that even mean?”
Together they walked over to the trash can and tossed their cups and bags in, then began walking back toward the coffee shop.
“It means I think you’re making excuses. I think it would be easy to get those things and be back here in an hour—tops,” he challenged.
“Clearly, you’ve never had to do these things for yourself, Julian. I’m sure a man in your position just has to mention that he wants these things and people scurry around to make it happen. Well, news flash. In the real world, it doesn’t work that way.”
So much for the mild-mannered social worker. When there wasn’t a case file between them, he found that Charlotte had a bit of a snarky side to her.
“Care to test that theory?”
She studied him for a long moment. “I’m listening.”
“One hour,” he began, “and I’m not making any calls. We’ll get everything you need and have you on the beach—and relaxing—in an hour.”
The laugh she let out was part derision and part pure amusement. “Doubtful, but I think I’m honestly good with putting off my housework just to prove you wrong.”
Julian held out a hand to her. “You’re on.”
* * *
An hour later and she still wasn’t sure how it happened.
Umbrella? Check.
Blanket? Check.
Cooler full of snacks and drinks? Check and check.
And with her Kindle in her hand and her toes in the sand, she was still stumped.
Beside her, Charlotte heard a beeping sound and glanced over to see Julian grinning as he looked at his phone. “Time’s up,” he said with a little more giddiness than she thought he had in him.
As soon as she’d shaken his hand earlier, he sprang into action, taking the divide-and-conquer approach. Charlotte had gone home to grab her Kindle, a blanket, and to change her clothes, while Julian had gone for snacks, drinks, chairs, and the umbrella.
“I guess this is where you’re going to gloat and say ‘I told you so,’ right?”
Shaking his head, Julian relaxed in the chair beside her. “I have to admit, it feels pretty good to be right, but this wasn’t all that hard to do only because most of the stuff we needed was just up the beach at the house.”
Right. His million-dollar home overlooking the ocean.
She wanted to hate him a little bit for that, but she was feeling too relaxed right now. “That was kind of cheating.”
He leaned in closer until their shoulders were almost touching and whispered loudly, “Technically, but considering you didn’t have to go out and buy anything either, I’d say we’re even.”
Well, drat. He had a point.
“Fine.”
They sat quietly for a few minutes and she watched as Julian pulled a tablet out of the bag beside him. Glancing over slyly so he wasn’t alerted to her curiosity, she tried to see what he was reading. What kind of stuff did a rock star read? Or more specifically, what kind of stuff did this particular rock star read?
“The latest James Patterson,” he said mildly as he swiped a finger across the screen.
Busted.
“Is it good?” she asked, keeping her gaze firmly focused on her own screen where she was reading the latest J.D. Robb thriller.
“So far. I just started it two minutes ago.”
Placing her Kindle down, she looked at him. “You don’t have to read just because I’m reading, you know. Honestly, while I appreciate you helping me out with this setup, I wouldn’t be offended if you didn’t want to stay.”
Julian continued to read quietly for another minute and then swiped across the screen again. “I’m curious about how relaxing this whole thing could be. Personally, there’s a little too much conversation going on, but…that’s just me.”
She started to sputter and rebut and then thought better of it. He wanted less conversation? Well, fine. She could do that.
For thirty minutes, Charlotte allowed herself to get sucked into the story as her toes flexed in the sand and she let the sounds and smells of the beach surround her. Her stomach began to rumble, and before she could make a move, Julian handed her a giant chocolate chip cookie. That’s when she realized he had a stash of his own snacks and they were much better than hers. All she had was fruit and cheese and some bottled water, but the cookie was definitely going to be hers.
“Thank you,” she said softly. She knew he must have gotten it—and the one he was eating—from the coffee shop, and it was pure bliss on her tongue. The chocolate was just a little melty and she had to lick her fingers several times as she went. When she was done, she reached into her cooler for a bottle of water, grabbed a second one, and handed it to Julian. He thanked her and she realized they were like one of those couples who’ve been together for years—they were completely in sync with each other and it felt…nice.
Really nice.
Not wanting to go there, she stretched in her seat and went back to the story. Over the next hour they shared some fruit as they read, and Charlotte realized this was just as glorious as she’d always imagined it would be. Maybe even more so. When she finally couldn’t sit any longer, she stood and put her Kindle down.
“The ocean’s calling,” she said. “I need to put my feet in it for a little bit.”
Julian nodded but didn’t look up from the screen.
The first wave of cool water washed over her and she sighed happily. Swimming in the ocean was totally not her thing, but getting her feet wet and walking in it a little was the perfect compromise. In her practical one-piece bathing suit and floral sarong wrapped around her waist, she fit right in. She walked up the beach a ways and looked out at the people who were doing the same thing—camped out in their spots with friends and families—and when she turned to go back, she noticed Julian watching her.
He wasn’t smiling and maybe he just happened to be looking in this direction, but her heart gave a little kick in her chest at his gaze. There were many things she’d noticed about Julian in this last week, mainly how intense and serious he was. After he’d explained to her about his life and his current situation, she could understand it. Still, she wondered what he would be like if all of that hadn’t happened to him.
Would he smile more? Laugh more? Would he flirt with her?
Yeah, she was going to have to figure out exactly what she was doing here. Why was she still hanging out with him?
And vice versa.
Slowly, Charlotte made her way back to their spot and sat back down in her chair.
“How was the water?”
She couldn’t make herself look directly at him because she had a feeling he’d be able to tell exactly where her thoughts had been. “Good. It was good. It felt really…”
“Good?” he asked.
“Um…yeah.”
With a small smile and a nod, Julian went back to his book, and Charlotte took a moment to look at him and try to get a read on him. Again. He was a bit of an enigma and he was possibly the first person she couldn’t figure out.
Settling
back comfortably, she picked up her tablet and checked the Wi-Fi connection, and hid a smile when she saw she had one. It seemed odd now that she hadn’t done this before but she tilted the screen so Julian couldn’t see it and did a search on him.
Julian Grayson, drummer for Grammy award-winning band Shaughnessy…age 35…single…
After that was a description of the band and a list of their biggest hits and albums. A bit further down it came to the personal information about his very public wedding stunt and subsequent disappearance. According to this article, he hadn’t been seen in public since that day.
Clearly, they’re just not looking hard enough, she thought, because he was hardly disguising himself. She pulled up a page full of images of him, and other than the perpetual five-o’clock shadow and his need for a haircut, he looked pretty recognizable. And from what else she could tell, there wasn’t anyone lurking around trying to get a picture of him. Even here on a fairly crowded beach, no one was coming forward and talking to him, so maybe…maybe… Hell if she knew. Was it a good thing or a bad one that he was forcing himself into seclusion?
This was where her psychology degree came into play.
But why? Why did she even care why he was in seclusion? It was his right to do what he wanted and how he chose to handle his anger and grief over a failed relationship.
She glanced at him again, careful to keep her tablet facing away from him. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” he said, but he didn’t look at her.
“Now that you’re back from…you know, are you going to start playing with your band again?”
Julian didn’t answer. Instead he turned off his tablet and put it in his bag right before he stood and stretched. She figured he was just ready to move, but then he looked out toward the ocean and said, “I think I’ve had enough of the beach today. Feel free to stay here as long as you want. I’ll come back for the stuff later.”
Seriously? Standing up, she got right in front of him until he was forced to look at her. “You can’t just leave this stuff here. Someone will take it.”
He shrugged. “Then I’ll replace it.”
The man was beyond infuriating. “What is your deal?” she asked with irritation. “I mean, we were just sitting here and everything was fine and now you’re just going to jump up and leave rather than answer my question?”
“Pretty much.”
A dozen questions and retorts played in her mind, but she couldn’t get the words out. He wanted to leave? Fine. There was no way she was going to stay, however. She’d take her own stuff and go and she seriously hoped someone stole his.
With a huff, she moved aside and watched him walk away with nothing but the bag that held his tablet. For a full minute, she didn’t move, and when she realized he really was leaving, she had no choice but to collect her stuff. Staying and relaxing was no longer possible, so she did her best to grab as much as she could and try to move it to the car. Julian had helped her earlier, but there was no way she was going to call out and ask for his help now.
Clumsily, Charlotte started to walk across the sand toward her car. She’d gone all of ten steps when her bag slipped from her hands. When she picked it up, her blanket fell. Letting everything drop to the sand, she growled with frustration. And just as she was about to bend over and start again, Julian was there beside her. Wordlessly, he picked everything up and started walking ahead of her.
She wanted to be annoyed with him, but right now she was just relieved not to have to carry everything herself. Following behind him, her mind raced. Every time she was ready to write him off as a self-centered jerk, he did something to prove her wrong and she had no idea what to make of it.
And she was getting tired of trying to psychoanalyze him.
It was getting to be a full-time job.
Normally it would have felt awkward to spend so much time without speaking, but it seemed the safest way to go right now. At her car, Charlotte almost cringed. As a rule, she wasn’t ashamed of her car—it was a ten-year-old Toyota—but right now she wondered what was going through Julian’s mind when he saw it. Without knowing too much about him, she had no way of knowing if he was one of those snobs who looked down on people who had less than he did, but her gut told her he wasn’t.
Then again, her gut had told her that he was a homeless guy who needed help, and look where that had gotten her.
Slamming the trunk shut, she finally looked at him. “Thanks. I appreciate the help.”
As usual, he didn’t say anything, and while part of her wanted to rail at him and demand to know what he was thinking, the other part of her was just…done. He clearly had issues or some sort of personality disorder, and she dealt with enough of that on a typical work day. Having to deal with it on her day off was just asking too much. With a sigh, she said goodbye and turned away.
“Charlotte,” he said gruffly when she opened the car door.
With her head down, she didn’t turn around; she simply waited. After a full minute of silence, she spun around. “What?” she snapped, unable to help herself.
He seemed as frustrated as she was, and Charlotte secretly hoped he was just as confused too. Raking a hand through his hair, he stared at her and there was annoyance as well as vulnerability in his eyes. “I don’t like talking about my life,” he finally said.
“No kidding,” she murmured.
“Maybe it’s not logical or practical, but there it is. My life’s a freaking mess right now, and if I don’t talk about it—”
“Then it’s still going to be a mess,” she finished for him, instantly going into social worker mode. Taking a step closer, she went on. “You went through something that was devastating to you and you took off to avoid dealing with it. Or,” she quickly said when he made to interrupt, “that was how you chose to deal with it. Either way, Julian, you can’t just pretend it didn’t happen and you can’t go on not talking about your life. I don’t care if you don’t talk to me about it, it’s really none of my business. But I have a feeling you’re not talking to anyone about it.”
“It’s no one’s business,” he said, teeth clenched.
“Really? What about your friends? Your bandmates? I would imagine at some point you’re going to have to talk to them about this. Your leaving affected them too, you know. As much as you want to claim you’re the wounded party here—and no one’s doubting that—your actions after you walked away from the wedding had an effect on everyone there.”
He looked like he was about to say something and then thought better of it.
“Have you thought about talking to someone?” she asked. “A friend, a clergyman, or a therapist?”
“No one needs to hear about my problems. There are people who are far worse off than I am.”
“Oh, I agree. But it doesn’t mean you don’t need to talk to someone and figure out how to move forward from here.” She paused and tried to organize her thoughts. “Julian, you had a life before that day, and a career. You can’t just let it all go because of one incident.”
With a mirthless laugh, Julian turned and paced away before coming back toward her. “I wasted five damn years,” he growled, his voice louder and more intense than she’d ever heard him speak. “I’m a joke in the industry! No amount of talking to someone is going to change that, Charlotte.”
Her heart broke for him. His pride as well as his heart had been damaged by this woman. There was no way she could try to make light of it or tell him everything would be okay. She had no idea if it would. In her life, she’d never been so deeply in love or so devastatingly betrayed, so she had no experience to draw from. All she could do was understand that he’d been hurt and accept him exactly where he was at.
With a small nod, she met his gaze. “I’m so sorry she did this to you,” she said quietly. “I wish there was something I could do or say that would help, but…there isn’t.” Re
aching out, she took one of his hands in hers and gently squeezed. “I hope someday you’ll smile again, Julian, and that you’ll find some peace.” When she went to pull away, he held her hand tightly in his. She gasped softly and her eyes widened.
“Why?” he said, his voice deep and gravelly. “Why do you even care?”
“It’s just in my nature,” Charlotte admitted. “It’s who I am.”
“So I’m like a case to you,” he stated, sounding bitter about it.
She shook her head. “No. You’re not. That first day? Yes. But now that I know a little more about you, it’s not how I see you at all.” Her heart beat wildly at the admission, because she knew exactly where that statement would lead.
“How do you see me?” His voice was softer now and somehow the space between them was disappearing.
Swallowing hard, she decided she had nothing to lose. “I see you as a man, Julian. A very sad and hurt man.” With her free hand, Charlotte reached up and caressed his cheek. “And I wish there was a way I could ease your pain and make you smile.”
When Julian continued to stare at her, she thought she’d said too much, that she’d said something wrong, because his expression became closed, guarded. The last thing she wanted to do was push him away—not that she saw this going anywhere, anyway, but at the least she wanted him to think of her as a friend.
“When I’m around you, I do smile.”
Her own lips twitched at his admission. “Behind my back? Because most of the time you’re pretty serious-looking.”
Then his expression did relax and his lips softened into a small smile.
And he was even sexier when he did that.
Between his incredibly handsome face, his hard, muscled body, and the sheer size of him, he had Charlotte practically in a puddle at his feet.
“Are you always this sassy or is it just with me?” he teased.
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