“Did you discuss it? Fight about it?”
“Never. One day he just announced that my priorities were all messed up and that he couldn’t live like that anymore.”
Trace frowned. “Without even giving you a chance to change or compromise? That’s not fair.”
“You should hear what Jess says about it. She says he was always passive-aggressive, telling me he was proud of me one minute, then taking little digs about my failures as a wife and mother. I honestly never paid that much attention to the digs, maybe because I thought they were fair.” She held up a hand. “Look, this is all water under the bridge. We’re divorced. Wes is basically a good guy and a great father. I need to get along with him for the sake of the girls.”
For some reason, Trace couldn’t let it go. “But, Abby, he has no right to come down here and question you about who you’re spending time with. Are you sure he’s not after something?”
Abby looked bewildered. “Such as?”
“I see two possibilities,” he said, treading carefully. He’d picked up on some kind of territorial vibe when he’d met Wes and he couldn’t seem to shake it. He didn’t want to upset or alarm her, and he had a feeling he was about to do both. On some level, he knew he ought to stay out of this, but he’d started it now, and Abby wasn’t likely to let him drop it.
“What possibilities?” she asked, proving his point.
“Either he wants you back and he’s jealous of whatever he thinks is going on with us,” he began.
Abby shook her head at once. “Believe me, he doesn’t want me back.”
Trace hesitated.
“Come on,” she commanded. “Don’t stop now. I’m fascinated by how much thought you’ve apparently given to me and my ex-husband, a man you’ve spent, what, five minutes with?”
“You’re right. I don’t know him, but I’ve crossed paths with plenty of men just like him. And in those five minutes I spent around him today, I saw something else.”
“What?”
“I can’t be sure, of course, but maybe he’s hunting for ammunition to start a battle for full custody of Carrie and Caitlyn.”
As he’d feared, real alarm flared in her eyes. “He wouldn’t dare!”
Trace clasped her hand. “Settle down. I’m just saying it’s a possibility you need to be prepared for. Don’t let your guard down for a minute. Like I said, I’ve known men like Wes. They almost always act based on some hidden agenda that’s in their own interests. They win because they hit when people are least expecting it.”
Abby’s expression went from indignant to thoughtful. “As much as it kills me to say it, it does make a sick kind of sense. Before he came down here, he threatened to take the girls back to New York with him since I’m going to be here a while longer. I told him to forget about it, but that might have put some crazy idea into his head about trying to take them away from me.” She met Trace’s gaze, fire in her eyes. “I swear to God, if he tries to pull a stunt like that, I will go after him with every penny I’ve got.”
“Right now you share custody, right?”
“Yes. The girls pretty much divide their time between the two of us. Most of the year they’re with me during the week, because I live maybe half a dozen blocks closer to the private school where they go to kindergarten. The nanny walks them to school. They’re with Wes every other weekend. Sometimes, especially around holidays, they’ll stay with him for the whole week. The nanny just goes with them to wherever they’re staying. Neither of us wanted to turn them into pawns in our battle. The whole divorce was totally civilized. We drafted it ourselves and had it approved by the court. He pays generous child support, including their school tuition, but no alimony. I didn’t want or need his money for myself.”
Trace wondered what Wes Winters might stand to gain by fighting Abby for custody. Maybe he was just a dad who wanted more time with his daughters, especially if he feared they were going to be a few hundred miles away for any length of time, but Trace thought otherwise. Perhaps he’d taken an instant dislike to the man and that was behind his suspicions, but he didn’t think so. He was usually a decent judge of character. It was a trait he’d inherited from his father, who claimed that a good banker had to be a good judge of the people he dealt with. His father always said a balance sheet only told half the story about a customer. Instinct filled in the rest.
Since all he had at the moment were suspicions, Trace decided to do a little checking first thing on Monday. In the meantime, he didn’t want Abby to get any more worked up than she already was, especially since for the moment he was only speculating based on very little hard information.
“Look, I’m really sorry I stirred this up,” he told her sincerely. “He hasn’t said anything about the whole custody issue, so it’s probably just my imagination.”
She could have accepted the easy explanation, but she shook her head, which told him she’d been harboring similar thoughts.
“I’d say you were crazy, if Wes hadn’t made that comment when we spoke on the phone before he came down here.” She stood up. “I need to get home and talk to him.”
“Now? He’s probably gone to bed.”
She glanced at her watch and sat back down, but she was clearly still agitated. Once again, Trace regretted stirring her up, possibly for no good reason. He had to distract her.
“Look at me,” he commanded.
She turned to face him.
“No one will take the girls away from you,” he said firmly.
“You don’t know how powerful Wes’s family is,” she said.
“Actually I do,” he said. “We have some mutual friends, so I know the circle that puts him in. But powerful people have weaknesses. If it comes to a fight, we’ll find theirs.” He touched a finger to her lips when she would have responded. “No more speculation. Let’s drop this for now.”
A flicker of awareness heated her gaze. “What’ll we do then?”
“I have an idea, if you’re interested,” he said, keeping his tone deliberately casual.
Her lips parted. “Tell me,” she whispered, sounding faintly breathless.
He knew what she was anticipating, maybe even wanted, and heaven knew he wanted to take her to his place, to his bed, but he knew without a doubt that she’d regret it in the morning. Besides, there was a certain amount of fun to be had in surprising her.
“Let’s sneak over to the inn and go for a swim in the pool,” he suggested.
She regarded him with undisguised disappointment. “You want to go for a swim?”
He nodded. “I do.”
“But we don’t have bathing suits,” she said.
He winked at her. “I know.”
She laughed then. “You really do enjoy leading me astray, don’t you?”
“It’s my very favorite pastime,” he admitted, then grinned. “Next to skinny-dipping, that is.”
“If Jess catches us, we’ll never hear the end of it.”
He sealed his mouth over hers, lingering and savoring before releasing her. “Then we’ll have to be really, really quiet, won’t we?” He leveled a long, simmering look into her eyes. “What do you think? Are you game? There was a time, you know, when I didn’t even have to ask twice.”
She hesitated for just a fraction of a second, then nodded. “I’m in.”
“You know what, Ms. Abigail?”
“What?”
“I’m glad being married to that stuffy jerk didn’t rob you of your
daredevil spirit. Did he know about that?”
She looked saddened for a moment, then shook her head. “No. No one’s ever seen that side of me except you.” Her bright eyes seemed to shimmer with the faint sheen of tears. “You may be the only man I’ve ever trusted that much.”
Her admission nearly shattered him. Trace wiped a tear from her cheek. “Then I’ll do my best never to let you down. I promise.”
In fact, he’d sell his own soul before he’d hurt her or let anyone else break her heart.
12
A bby had only gone skinny-dipping once in her life, and it was Trace, of course, who’d talked her into it back then, too. He’d said earlier that he was a bad influence on her, but that wasn’t how she saw it. Somewhere deep down inside, when she was being totally honest with herself, she knew that the only time in her life when she’d felt as if she were really living was when she’d been with him. As hard as she’d tried, as successful as she’d become, nothing compared to the pulse-racing thrill of being with a man like Trace. Lately, too, she was starting to remember the comfort of being with someone who knew and understood her, who believed in and valued her.
There was a danger to the kind of full-throttle living Trace represented, though. Not only was there the occasional push-it-to-the-limits risk, but it made her vulnerable. Sometimes it was easier to live in a nice, safe cocoon, rather than exposing her heart to the possibility of being broken. That seemed even more critical now that she had two daughters relying on her. If her career took her away from them too much, what would a relationship do to that bond? She was stretched to the limits as it was.
Tonight, though, with the sky clear and star-filled and the air slightly cool, she felt like taking chances. Borrowing Mick’s car proved she was in a reckless mood. Trace was right about that. Her father would flip out if he discovered his precious Mustang had left the garage with her behind the wheel. It was telling that she almost wished he were around to catch her.
As soon as she turned into the driveway at the inn, she cut the car’s lights. Behind her, Trace did the same. They parked behind a grove of trees. Then, giggling like a couple of teenagers, they slipped around the side of the inn to where the shimmering turquoise water of the pool beckoned. It had been scrubbed clean, painted and filled just last week, so there was still the faint scent of chlorine in the air. The lights in the pool were on, but the grounds around it were shadowed, which gave the illusion they were secluded from the world.
Abby looked at Trace and caught the wicked glint of anticipation in his eyes. “You go first,” she told him.
He studied her, his expression dubious. “You’re not going to chicken out, are you?”
“Me? No way. I just want you in the pool, and preferably underwater, when I undress.”
“I’ve seen you naked before,” he reminded her.
“Not since I had twins,” she countered.
His gaze held hers. “That could only make you more beautiful,” he insisted, then added with unmistakable wistfulness, “I wish I’d been there for that.”
Seeing the appreciative gleam in his eyes made her wish he’d been with her back then, too. Wes had only made her feel more ungainly, even though he’d loved boasting to their friends about the fact that she was having twins. She realized now that even during her pregnancy, his comments had always been double-edged. As thrilled as he’d been about the twins, he’d always managed to sneak in a dig about her size. It had all been in good-natured fun, of course, or so he’d pretended. Now she wondered if that had been the case.
“Stop it,” she murmured to herself. She’d gone through nearly seven years of marriage with far fewer doubts than her sister and Trace had brought to mind in a single day.
Trace frowned. “Stop what?”
“Not you. Me,” she said. “I was thinking about things best left in the past.”
“Want to explain that?”
She shook her head and pointed at the pool. “Go, if you’re going.”
He kicked off his shoes, then stripped off his jeans and T-shirt. His briefs could have served as a swimsuit, but as he got to the edge of the pool, he yanked those off, too, and tossed them aside, giving Abby a wonderfully provocative rear view of broad shoulders, narrow hips and an excellent bare butt. She could have admired the view all night, but he dove in and swam the length of the pool with sure, strong strokes that allowed her to watch the play of well-toned muscles across his back.
While he was swimming, she peeled off her blouse and slacks, but left on her bra and bikini panties, then ran and leaped into the water. She surfaced, sputtering, only to discover that Trace was right there beside her, regarding her with amusement. He tucked a finger under her bra strap and ran it along bare skin, raising goose bumps.
“You cheated,” he accused.
“I agreed to the swim. I don’t believe I agreed to skinny-dipping.”
He surveyed her with a simmering gaze that could have heated the whole pool. “This may be better,” he said, his gaze locked on her breasts. The sheer lacy fabric of her bra was clinging to them. “It leaves a little something to the imagination and trust me, mine is in overdrive.”
Abby was tempted to stay where she was, enjoying his appreciative glances and the desire swirling in the night air, but she wasn’t quite brave enough to risk where it was destined to lead. Not quite yet, anyway. The longer she remained in Chesapeake Shores, the more time she spent with Trace, though, the stronger this pull between them was likely to become.
“I’ll race you to the end of the pool and back,” she challenged.
“What do I get if I win?” he taunted.
“Satisfaction,” she said, then winced at the instant gleam in his eyes. “Not that kind of satisfaction, Trace Riley! Pride. You get to feel proud of yourself.”
“My kind is better,” he said. “But okay. What do you get if you win?”
She considered the question carefully. What did she really want from this man, aside from the kind of kisses that would make her knees go weak? Suddenly it came to her. “You’ll sneak into the inn and steal a couple of towels, so we don’t have to drive home soaking wet.”
“You want me to go inside, where your sister is probably asleep, and steal towels?” he asked, his expression incredulous. “Isn’t that just begging to be caught?”
“Probably, which is why you’re doing it instead of me.”
“Yeah, but Jess wouldn’t shoot you. I’m not so sure whether she’d be as careful if she spots me inside and mistakes me for an intruder who’s up to no good.”
“She doesn’t own a gun,” Abby assured him. “You’ll be safe enough.” She tilted her head. “Of course, your concern about all this tells me you think I’m going to win.”
“I’m just trying to use good sense,” he countered.
She grinned at him. “Well, that’s certainly out of character,” she taunted. “That’s the deal, though. Take it or leave it.”
He met her gaze. “I’ll take it. On the count of three, then. One, two…”
Before he ever uttered the three, he was gone. “You dirty, rotten scoundrel,” she shouted, and took off in pursuit. She was a strong swimmer, though he had the advantage of height. Still, despite his cheating, she’d almost caught him by the time they made the turn at the far end of the pool. She was close enough to get one hand firmly around his ankle. She gave it a hard yank that threw off his nice, even strokes and allowed her to catch up. Her fingertips touched t
he edge of the pool a fraction of a second before his.
“You cheated,” he accused, though his eyes were dancing with laughter.
“Not until after you did,” she retorted.
A subtle cough suddenly caught their attention. Abby looked up into her sister’s amused gaze and felt her entire, barely concealed body grow hot with embarrassment.
“Hi, sis,” Jess said, humor threading through her voice. “Nice to see you, Trace. All of you, that is.”
Abby nearly choked at that, but Trace didn’t seem even the tiniest bit flustered. He grinned at Abby. “I guess we’ve been busted.”
“I guess you have,” Jess agreed.
“A good sister would have gone back inside and never mentioned catching us out here,” Abby suggested. “You seem to be taking great pleasure in this.”
“I am,” Jess admitted. “I figure the two of you are going to owe me big-time if I promise not to spread this little escapade all around town.”
“You would tell people about this?” Abby demanded, horrified by the thought, especially with Wes in town.
“You bet,” Jess said, grinning. “It’s the best gossip I’ve known in years and years. Mostly this town is pretty boring.”
“I’m your sister,” Abby reminded her, then pulled out the biggest guilt card in her arsenal. “The one who’s here to save this inn for you.”
Jess nodded slowly. “That is a consideration, of course.”
“What do you want to keep quiet?” Trace asked, though the spark in his eyes suggested he didn’t much care if Jess spread this news far and wide.
Jess’s expression turned thoughtful. “I’m not sure just yet. For the moment, I’ll settle for the satisfaction of having something to hold over both your heads. Something tells me that will come in handy eventually.”
The Inn at Eagle Point Page 18