She’d barely cut off the phone when she realized she wasn’t alone. She looked up and discovered Trace standing in the doorway. Rather than the suit and tie she’d grown accustomed to him wearing, he was dressed in faded jeans and a navy-blue T-shirt that emphasized his broad chest and well-muscled arms. His windblown hair suggested he’d ridden over on his Harley. This was the sexy, rebellious man she’d fallen for all those years ago, the one who made her good sense go flying out the window.
“How long have you been standing there?” she inquired testily.
“Long enough to figure out that your ex-husband isn’t happy about you having the girls down here.”
“He’ll deal with it,” she said tightly.
He looked vaguely guilty. “I’m sorry, Abby. I never stopped to consider what it might mean to have your kids separated from their dad while you’re here.”
“There are a lot of things you haven’t considered when it comes to me,” she retorted. “Look, I’m in no mood for another heart-to-heart with you. Are you here for any particular reason?”
“Routine follow-up,” he claimed. “Just making sure all your creditors are happy.”
“You’ll have to ask them how they’re feeling. If what you’re really asking is whether they’re being paid, the answer is yes.” She plucked the mortgage and business loan payments out of the stack and handed them to him. “Here, you can save me the cost of two stamps.”
His lips twitched. “How very frugal of you.”
“Just following your instructions to keep a tight rein on expenses.”
“Where’s Jess?” he asked.
The question was entirely predictable and reasonable, but Abby wasn’t overjoyed by the response she had to give him. “No idea. Why? Did you need to speak to her about something?”
“I just assumed she’d be hard at work,” he said with a shrug.
This time it was Abby’s lips that curved into a grin. “I suggest you not mention that to her. I got an earful the last time I did. Apparently she has her own way of juggling her responsibilities, and she doesn’t appreciate my interference.”
He turned the chair beside the desk around backward and straddled it. “That discussion wouldn’t have taken place about this time yesterday, would it?”
“As a matter of fact, it did. Why?”
“Because about fifteen minutes later she barreled into my office and told me off. She also said fairly emphatically that she wanted you gone.”
Abby knew Jess had been mad, but she hadn’t expected her to go that far. She was curious, though, about how Trace had responded. “I assume you refused.”
“Of course.”
Abby shook her head. “So, between us, we’ve got my sister in an uproar. Because of you, I have my ex-husband in a dither. Are you happy yet?”
“Not really.” He grinned. “I could be if you’d go for a walk on the beach with me.”
“And step away from my desk in the middle of a workday?” she queried with feigned shock. “What if the boss catches me?”
“It’s his idea. In fact, it will earn you lots and lots of brownie points with the boss.”
She leaned back and studied him. “You’re in an odd mood today. What’s going on?”
“ My boss gave me permission to play hooky. In fact, he encouraged it. He all but handpicked my playmate, too, in case you were wondering.”
Abby bit back a laugh. “Your father sent you over here to go for a walk on the beach with me?”
“He didn’t spell out the details. The walk was my idea.” He met her gaze, then held it until the air in the room seemed to crackle with electricity. “Interested?”
Oh, God, yes, a little voice in her head murmured fervently. Fortunately, the only word that came out of her mouth was, “Okay.”
Trace laughed. “Your enthusiasm is overwhelming.”
She shrugged, determined not to let him see how this playful side of him affected her. “It’s a walk on the beach, not a walk down the aisle.”
Heat simmered in his gaze. “Want to do that instead?”
She frowned at him. “No, I do not,” she said emphatically, proud of herself for not letting her voice betray the fact that she was way too intrigued with the idea.
“Your denial is a little too forceful. A simple no would have sufficed.”
“Do you have any idea how exasperating you are?” she asked, even as she reached for her jacket.
“No, but I’m sure you’ll be happy to fill me in,” he said, smoothing the jacket over her shoulders.
The lingering touch made her shiver. It also suggested that going on this walk was a bad idea. Spending any time at all with Trace was probably a bad idea.
Still, she thought as they walked across the expanse of lawn toward the water, it was far from the worst idea she’d ever had. In fact, when he reached for her hand to help her over the rocks and down onto the hard-packed sand, something inside her shifted slightly. Suddenly she couldn’t help thinking that perhaps strolling along the beach, hand in hand with this particular man, might very well be the best thing she’d done in years.
10
O ne of the things Trace had always loved about Abby was that she didn’t need to fill every moment of silence with nonsensical chatter. Keeping her hand clasped in his as they picked their way along a stretch of beach that had been narrowed by erosion, he tilted his face up to the sun and breathed in the salty tang in the air. Miles farther inland—in the hills and mountains of Virginia, West Virginia, Maryland and Pennsylvania—most of the tributaries that eventually spilled into the bay began as freshwater streams and creeks, but here the brackish water of the Atlantic was still dominant. Trace had always loved that unmistakable scent, the taste of it on his tongue…or on Abby’s skin after they’d been for a swim.
For the first time since he’d come back to Chesapeake Shores, he felt completely and totally at ease. Here at the water’s edge, he felt none of the pressure of working for his father, none of the stress of meeting ad deadlines. Nor was he feeling that vaguely uncomfortable, ill-at-ease sensation that hit him sometimes in New York, as if he’d forced himself to adjust to a lifestyle and pace that didn’t quite fit.
“You’re frowning,” Abby noted. “What’s that about?”
“Am I? That’s odd, because I was just thinking how at ease I feel here.”
Now she was frowning. “And you don’t feel that way in New York?” She made it sound like an accusation.
Trace saw the trap at once. “Most of the time I love New York. I enjoy what I do there. I don’t want to trade it, especially not to work at the bank. But this…” He gestured around at the amazing natural environment with his free hand. “This feels like home. Surely you must feel it, too. Don’t you remember how much time we spent on the water back then?” He captured her gaze and held it. “Long, lazy days and sultry nights?”
To his relief, she took the question seriously and didn’t jump down his throat for asking it. Nor did she get all jittery over the provocative tone in his voice. She simply looked thoughtful.
“Actually, I think I do know what you mean,” she admitted eventually. “I felt it when I first got out of the car the night the girls and I got down here. Seeing Gram, breathing in the air, hearing the sound of the waves, it is home. I realized how much I’d missed it.” She gave h
im a defiant look. “Not that I want to live here again.”
“Ditto,” he said, not bothering to challenge her, even though he wondered if living here on their own terms wouldn’t be just fine. Surely she’d achieved what she’d wanted to in the financial world. From everything he’d heard, she was a well-respected portfolio manager with a top-notch brokerage firm. He’d seen her name from time to time in the New York Times business pages and in the Wall Street Journal. Spotting the articles had filled him with pride in her accomplishments. Surely with her credentials she could work in any of their branches successfully. He’d established plenty of contacts and could write his own ticket when it came to his design work. Why not do that and have this lifestyle, too? From his perspective, it was worth thinking about. But he doubted Abby would agree, not yet, anyway.
“How soon do you think you’ll go back to New York?” she asked, proving his point. For her this was obviously a temporary—to say nothing of unwelcome—respite, not a destination.
“The deal I made with my father was that I’d stay six months,” he said.
“Are you making any progress in convincing him that Laila is the one who should have the job?”
“First I have to convince him that I’m the wrong person for the job,” he said. “I actually think I may have made some progress on that front today.”
“Really? How? By being too eager to take him up on his offer to let you play hooky?”
Trace chuckled. “No, he was counting on that. I think right now his desire for me to have a family may outweigh his desire to bring me into the world of banking.”
She gave him a puzzled look. “Meaning?”
“You,” he said, enjoying the shade of pink that immediately tinted her cheeks. “A hundred years ago, he would have already made an offer to Mick to seal the deal. We’d have had no say in the matter. Be grateful we’re living in modern times.”
“Why would your father think that you and I have any potential for a future?”
“We have a past,” he reminded her. “You’re single again. You have two little girls who could use a daddy—”
“They have a father,” Abby reminded him.
“Well, of course they do. I’m just trying to explain how things work in Lawrence Riley’s mind.”
She slanted a look at him. “Well, just in case you start getting any ideas, keep in mind that I’m not in the market for a husband. I didn’t do so well by the last one. I’m a compulsive workaholic. That doesn’t make me good marriage material. In fact, I failed miserably in that role.”
Trace regarded her with amusement. “I’ll be sure to pass that information along to my father, though something tells me he’s not going to be dissuaded from this idea.”
“As long as you are, that’s all that matters,” she said.
She looked so serious, so determined to make her point that Trace couldn’t help himself. He bent down and kissed her. He meant it to be just a quick, teasing brush of his lips across hers, but her mouth felt so good, so familiar beneath his, that he went back for more.
By the time he dragged himself away, their breathing was ragged and there was a bemused expression in Abby’s eyes.
“Why did you do that?” she asked, rubbing her lips as if to wipe the kiss away. “Especially right after I told you what a bad bet I am?”
He shoved his hands into his pockets to keep from reaching for her again. He shrugged. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“Well, it wasn’t,” she said. Her expression was fierce, but there was a telling hitch in her voice.
Trace took comfort in that hitch. Once in a long while, Abby let her insecurities show in subtle ways that made Trace want to dive in and protect her. That desire usually warred with his longing to ravish her.
His lips curved slowly. “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see which one of us is right.”
He was pretty sure the wait would have to involve a whole lot more experimental kissing, too.
Abby was still shaken by Trace’s kiss when she waved goodbye to him, then walked toward the inn. Even her stupid knees were weak, which was ridiculous.
“Interesting,” Jess called out from the porch. “I come home and find two of the world’s toughest taskmasters missing. Lo and behold, I discover they’ve been cavorting on the beach.”
“There was no cavorting,” Abby said sharply.
She intended to walk right past her sister and avoid any more of her insightful observations, but Jess stood up and followed her inside.
“So, what’s going on with you and Trace?” Jess asked, leaning against the counter as Abby tried to pour herself a glass of iced tea with hands that remained unsteady.
“Nothing,” Abby said, then took a long gulp of the cold liquid, hoping it would cool her overheated libido. It didn’t help. Nor did it buy her much time.
“Didn’t look that way to me. The two of you were in quite a lip-lock on the beach. From where I was standing it looked as if steam was rising.”
Abby stared at her in shock. “You spied on us?”
“I most certainly did not spy. I went looking for you. When I got to the beach, I saw you and turned right straight around and came back to the porch to wait.” She grinned. “I thought it would be fun to see how you tried to explain what happened.”
“I’m delighted you find me so amusing.”
“Not you,” Jess corrected. “The situation. It feels a whole lot like that summer ten years ago when the two of you were sneaking around. You were delusional then, too. You didn’t think anyone knew what was going on. Heck, I was barely twelve and I got it. You two were crazy about each other. Still are, from what I’ve observed.” She nudged Abby in the ribs. “I think it’s sweet.”
“It is not sweet. It is just as doomed now as it was back then.”
“Why? I mean, I sort of get why you left then. You were following a dream, though why you thought working yourself to death was more important than a man like Trace is beyond me. But that was then. You’re successful now. You can call your own shots. If you want Trace in your life, there’s nothing to stop you.”
Abby sighed and pulled out a chair at the table. Jess made a future with Trace sound so reasonable, so possible, but she knew better. “Come on, Jess, you know it’s not that easy. Look how badly I messed up my marriage to Wes, and he’s probably the most understanding, undemanding man on the face of the earth. No man is going to put up with the kind of hours I work, the kind of stress I bring home with me at the end of the day.”
“Then cut back,” Jess said. “Make some adjustments.”
“It’s not that kind of job. The markets move too quickly. If I’m off my game, I could put someone’s life savings in jeopardy.”
“And you honestly enjoy working in that kind of pressure cooker?”
Abby nodded. “Most of the time I love it.”
“You said most of the time. What about the rest?”
“Then I want what every woman wants—a home, a family, a man to share my life with,” she admitted, then added, “I just don’t see how I can have that.”
“You’re an O’Brien,” Jess reminded her. “You can have anything you set your mind to. Isn’t that what Gram and Mick taught us?”
“They did, but Dad also showed us that it can come with a price. Success cost him his relationship with Mom. Maybe some O’Briens simply aren’t meant to have it all.”
Jess frowned at her. “What does Mom have to say about your fatalistic attitude? Or is she the one responsible for it?”
Abby regarded her with surprise. “Why would you think Mom’s influenced me about relationships?”
“Can you honestly tell me she hasn’t? You’re the only one of us she has to talk to, so she’s probably filled your head with every bitter recrimination she has about Dad.”
“No more than you have,” Abby said mildly.
Jess winced as the barb hit home. “You’re probably right. I do have my issues with Dad.” She hesitated, then asked, “Seriously, has Mom ever opened up to you about what happened back then?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Abby said. “Dad was away too much. She couldn’t take it anymore.”
“But she didn’t just leave him, she abandoned us, too,” Jess protested. “We were her kids. We hadn’t done anything to deserve that.”
Abby frowned, remembering the conversation she’d had with her mother on the day Megan had walked out, her promise to come back for them. “No, and she always meant for us to come to New York to live with her.”
“Then what happened?” Jess asked. “Why was it she only came to visit when the mood struck her?”
“I don’t know,” Abby admitted. The subject was so touchy, she’d left it alone. For her it was enough that Megan was back in her life, but she understood why not having an answer to that question ate away at Jess.
“Oh, well,” Jess said. “We all survived. That’s what counts, isn’t it?”
Her attempt to make light of her pain didn’t work. Abby was about to call her on it, but Jess waved her off.
“Forget it. We’re getting away from my point. You’re talking yourself out of something with Trace that could be really good. You’re not even trying for it. It seems to me that’s just plain wrong.”
Abby couldn’t really deny that Jess had pegged her exactly right. She was being fatalistic. Experience had taught her that she wasn’t cut out for marriage. Since she didn’t enjoy failure, she saw no reason to put herself in that position again, not even with Trace stirring her hormones into a frenzy, reminding her of how good they’d once been together.
The Inn at Eagle Point Page 15