In with the Tide

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In with the Tide Page 6

by Charlee James


  “Damien, it’s beautiful.” A lump lodged in her throat. She looked over and butterflies flapped in her belly when their eyes met. He reached over the center console and laced his fingers with hers. For one heartbeat, then two, they were connected with eyes locked and hands linked. She found more than just friendship in his deep blue eyes. There was an inexplicable need swimming in those stormy sapphire pools. His rough and callused hand felt so good against hers. She shivered when she thought of how they would feel running over her body. Then he broke away, leaving her longing for more contact.

  “It’s shaping up,” he said in a voice that wasn’t quite steady. He turned his head toward the backseat. “Can’t believe she slept the whole way home.”

  “Me, either. It’s kind of scary being away from the safety net of nurses and doctors.” She glanced back at her baby, snoozing so peacefully. She loved the way her long lashes curved to her chubby cheeks.

  “It did seem strange to just walk out of the hospital with something so precious. I figured you would’ve had to sign a waiver or something.” He laughed softly.

  They unloaded Maris, and Damien insisted on carrying the bags and the car seat. She could hear Daisy’s whimpers and the click of her nails on the other side of the door. When Lindsey slid her key into the lock and opened it, the dog leaped out, her short tail happily ticking back and forth.

  “I don’t even know where to lay her down.” Lindsey bit her bottom lip. She should have been more prepared, and now the baby was home and there wasn’t a single thing for her.

  “Come with me,” Damien said in a low voice. The pace of her heart quickened. What did he have up his sleeve? Her breath caught and was trapped inside her throat when she looked through the opening of the third bedroom. Gratitude and wonder flooded through her, but when she opened her mouth to speak, nothing came out. She grasped his forearm with one hand and pressed the other to her mouth. All the tension she’d had over not being prepared seeped out of her. Damien had made her a dream nursery. The generosity and the scope of it floored her.

  He’d painted the walls light pink and ruffled white curtains swayed in the windows, the warm salty breeze parting them slightly, bringing with it the fresh scent of the sea. A rocker sat in the corner, with a decorative seahorse pillow nestled against the arm. In the center of the room was a crib with delicately curved rails. A mobile that matched the rocker pillow spun slowly over the mattress; a parade of starfish and seahorses. Her eyes filled and overflowed. She didn’t try to stop them. The thought he put into decorating the nursery was profound—no one had done anything so lavish or kind for her in all her life. It overwhelmed and humbled her. She laid Maris down on the mattress with its tightly fitted sheet, and turned to Damien.

  This tough-as-nails man had selected the most feminine treasures to welcome her sweet baby into the world. She couldn’t find the right words to express her gratitude.

  “Damien—in my wildest dreams I couldn’t have imagined a room so perfect. It might take a while, but I promise I’ll repay you—for everything.” She ran her fingers over the creamy curved rail of the crib.

  He closed the gap between them, and ran a thumb over her cheek. “It’s a gift, given without strings. I’ve never met anyone more deserving of something special.”

  Her body tingled with anticipation as he lowered his lips to hers. A wonderful heat melted through her heart. She wasn’t sure how on earth he could find her attractive. She’d seen the dark circles sweeping under her eyes that morning. In fact, everything about her said tired and haggard, and her belly was still more than puffy. Damien didn’t seem to care, as he pulled her in deeper. They jumped apart when the baby howled.

  “Your chaperone’s awake.” He ran his hands down her arms, and a shiver coursed over her skin. “She seems to pick the most inopportune times to ask for her mama. Why don’t you settle in? I’ll rock her for a bit.”

  He didn’t wait for her to answer, but simply bent over the crib and scooped up her daughter, then settled in the rocker by the window.

  The sight of this brawny and rugged man holding her tiny little girl made her knees wobbly. Oh, how she wished there could be a future for them. One where Damien would come to love the town he hated so vehemently. One where he would move into the cottage, into her bed, and intertwine his hopes and dreams with hers. A simple life in Chatham wasn’t his dream, though, and she wouldn’t try to persuade him otherwise. It would only spawn resentment over time, if she tried to convince him to stay. She’d cherish the time they had now, and deal with the consequences and hurt when he left.

  Lindsey longed for a hot shower and turned the knob until a steamy spray churned out. She stepped in, tilted her head back under the warm water, and sighed. There was something to be said for being in your own space. She stayed there for a few moments, letting the soothing stream flow over her, and ease the aches and pains from labor. Her mind drifted to Damien. He’d been there for her when no one else had; not only to encourage her through the birth but afterward, too.

  She knew he could have left at any time—a hotel room was bound to be open at this point, and yet he stayed. They had fallen into an easy rhythm, as the bond between them grew stronger. Lindsey lathered shampoo in her hair and the scent of vanilla and toasted coconut filled the room. She was just rinsing the soap off her skin when she heard the faint chime of the doorbell. Lindsey turned off the water and listened. Sure enough, it sounded again. Who would be visiting them? She quickly pulled on a thick bathrobe, wound her hair into a bun on the top of her head, and padded down the hall barefoot to the front door.

  Damien was already standing there—face-to-face with her parents. She could see their confused expressions from over Damien’s shoulder. Lindsey hadn’t mentioned to them that a man was living with her, and now they were here, and she was in her bathrobe with Damien holding Maris. She could only imagine what they were thinking. Her cheeks heated.

  “Mom, Dad, I thought you’d call first.” She rushed over. “You remember Damien, right? We went to school together.”

  “Yes.” Her Father’s brow creased and Lindsey’s stomach sank. For Pete’s sake, she was an adult; he couldn’t ground her for having a boarder—but Damien had become more than that, so much more. She had come to count on him and enjoy his company. She liked sitting at the table with him and sharing a meal, or watching the waves roll in from the ocean on the deck. His kisses had sparked something deep inside her. Something she had never felt before—even during the good times with Matthew.

  Damien stepped back so Lindsey could move forward. She kissed her father, Allen, on the cheek, breathing in his familiar aftershave, and then she hugged her mother, Tanya, and invited them inside. Tanya peered at Maris who was sleeping soundly in Damien’s strong and capable arms.

  “Oh, she’s so lovely.” Tanya clasped her hands together. “Congratulations, honey.” She draped an arm over Lindsey’s shoulder. “It was so nice of you to visit, Damien, to let Lindsey get settled.”

  Her father, who was traditional and old-fashioned in every way, loomed behind them. “We were sorry to hear about your father, son. Do you plan to move home?”

  “I’m only passing through,” Damien said and Lindsey’s heart sank. Did the weighty disappointment show on her face? “I just came home to wrap up some loose ends.” His body swayed back and forth slightly as he rocked the baby.

  “So, you’re staying in town then, or your dad’s place?” Allen pried. Why couldn’t he just drop it?

  “No.” Damien met her father’s hard stare, unfazed by the sharp tone in his voice. “I’m staying right here.”

  The room went silent and the warmth in Lindsey’s cheeks rushed to her ears. “Let’s go sit in the living room, and you’ll want to see the baby’s nursery, too.” She had to change the subject, and walked down the hall. Lindsey’s eyes flicked up to the ceiling and she silently said thanks when she heard footsteps behind her.

  “Just look at it, Allen,” Tanya said when they reached
Maris’s room. “It’s like a magazine picture. So sweet and tasteful.” At least they approved of the nursery—the one Damien had designed. If they’d come two weeks earlier, the cottage would still be an utter disaster. She owed Damien—big-time.

  She wasn’t sure she should reveal that Damien had single-handedly orchestrated the masterpiece when they were still wrapping their heads around the fact that he lived in the cottage with her. Lindsey ushered them into the living room.

  “Would either of you like a drink? I’m afraid there’s not much in the house right now.” Lindsey pushed aside some of the boxes that were left from sorting through papers the day she went into labor.

  “Water would be fine, dear.” Tanya settled down on the couch. Lindsey started to walk toward the kitchen and Damien stopped her.

  “You relax. I’ll get it.” He waited for her to sit down and then placed Maris into her arms. When he returned, he carried three iced waters on a tray and placed it on the coffee table.

  “I have a few things I need to take care of in town,” he announced. “It was nice to see you both,” he said to her parents. Then he did the unexpected. He leaned down and kissed her forehead, then the baby’s. The gesture of possession surprised her. Even though her parents were looking on slack-jawed, little wings sprouted on her heart and fluttered happily.

  “Can I get you anything while I’m out?” he whispered and his breath tickled her ear.

  “That’s okay, thanks.” She smiled.

  “I’ll bring home dinner. You take it easy.” He held her gaze and brushed his thumb over her cheek. He was making his position loud and clear. She swallowed hard. Lindsey was going to get an earful when he left.

  It was only under the watchful eye of her parents that she realized just how domestic they’d become. When the front door closed, her parents turned toward her.

  “Lindsey.” She cringed at her father’s disapproving tone. “What’s going on? You just signed divorce papers and now you’ve invited Damien to live with you?” He shook his head. “I don’t understand it. Matthew was a good provider—is that why you left him? For Damien?” He said his name like it was poison on his tongue.

  Her father had been partial to Matthew because he came from a good family, dressed the part of a proper gentleman, and said all the right things. Embarrassment had stopped her from telling them the real reason she had left her husband. When he cheated, she’d felt partially responsible—like maybe if she had been a better wife, he wouldn’t have strayed. Now, it made her wonder if she’d be enough for Damien. How could she convince him to stay when she couldn’t even keep her husband by her side?

  “I just struggled through labor and Damien was there for me. Do you see Matthew anywhere?” she questioned in a biting tone that surprised even her. “That’s because he threw me and his baby aside, so he and his secretary could start fresh.” She held the baby tighter and heat spread over her scalp like a thousand fire ants skittering through her hair. She didn’t wait for any replies before she bulldozed on.

  “That nursery you saw? Damien designed it while I was in the hospital. He installed the car seat and picked us up. He’s spent the past three days readying the house for Maris and me, and taking care of Daisy.”

  “Honey, I wish you’d told us about Matthew. I’m glad you had Damien here. I’ll forever feel guilty for missing the birth.” Her mother rubbed her hand over her arm while her father crossed his tightly across his chest. Tanya had always been quick to accept Lindsey’s choices. She was so thankful for it.

  “He drives a motorcycle. He’s covered in tattoos. He comes from the most dysfunctional family in town.” Her father’s forehead creased as he stared her down. Lindsey blew out a breath. This was ridiculous. She was an adult for crying out loud.

  “Those tattoos represent his time in the Marines, and for his friend who died overseas.” She’d asked him about the infantry badge on his shoulder with the words “Semper Fi” below it, and the single eagle wing across his shoulder with a date and initials. “Yes, his family situation was unthinkable, but you can’t blame him for the actions of his parents.”

  “Allen,” her mother snapped. “Drop it. Let’s enjoy our grandchild.” Lindsey was thankful for her intervention and she passed Maris into her eager arms. Daisy immediately jumped onto the couch and snuggled into her lap where the baby had been sitting. Sibling jealously was already starting for her poor little dog.

  They spent the next hour talking about her parents’ most recent trip to their timeshare in Aruba, the baby, and the cottage—all carefully avoiding the topic of Damien. She was disappointed in her father’s disapproval, but she could understand that his concern came from a place of love. When they finally left to go home, she closed the door behind them, and leaned her back against the door. She had never been so grateful for solitude in her life.

  She carried Maris into the nursery and settled down in the rocker, slowly swaying back and forth as the baby nursed. Every time she entered the room she thought of all Damien had done for her. It was the reason her father’s reaction to him angered her so. Damien was a good man; dependable and stable, rugged and kind. And heart thumping, knees weakening, dizzingly attractive. The combination of both was sucking her heart into a vortex of feeling. It would be impossible to ignore the pull of it, dragging her closer and closer to love—she’d never be able to crawl out of the forceful spin of sensations barreling through her.

  She hoped her parents’ less-than-warm welcome hadn’t made him question what he was doing with her. Damien had gone to give them time alone, but she wished he had stayed. Black clouds were billowing over the horizon and the rolling, choppy waves meant a storm was coming.

  Chapter Nine

  Damien watched the same dark clouds build and spread over the sky, and hoped the takeout order was prepared fast. He wanted to get home to Lindsey and the baby before the storm crashed down on the shoreline. The drifter in him said to stop playing house with her and move on, but there was another, more grounded, part that wanted desperately to stay. He took one of the few empty seats at the bar and ordered a soda. Having Lindsey and Maris to get home to made him cautious. The restaurant was bustling with locals catching the ball game, and tourists who came to sample the Italian fare Anthony’s offered. The TV mounted behind the bar was barely audible over the chatter of the crowd.

  His mind wandered back to that afternoon. Lindsey’s parents had been surprised to see him. He couldn’t blame them; he wasn’t what he’d want for his daughter, either. It didn’t matter. He was dating Lindsey, not her parents. His brows knitted together. Is that what they were doing? Dating? Despite not taking her on a proper “date,” he supposed they had become more than just friends. The problem was, Lindsey’s life was here on the Cape and his was anywhere else.

  The bartender returned and placed a glass in front of him. He drank deeply, rested his arms on the glossy wood bar, and tuned in halfheartedly to the baseball game. In the corner of his eye, he caught a blur as someone moved close to him.

  “Hey, brother.” Damien turned as a man grabbed the barstool to his left. One side of his face was youthful and unlined, while the other was marred with deep burns. The only thing similar on both sides of his face was cheerful brown eyes and a friendly smile. The innocent look reminded him of Johnny. The man held out his hand to Damien.

  “Twelfth Marine Regiment. I saw your tat from across the bar. My name’s Jay.” Damien met his hand and shook.

  “Damien.” He motioned to the bartender. “What are you drinking?”

  “The summer ale on tap,” Jay said. “Are you on leave?” he added after the bartender slid an empty glass from the rack, filled it, and placed it on a napkin in front of him.

  “No. I’m done.” When Jay continued to stare at him, he elaborated. “I was on active duty for nine years. When my last contract lapsed I decided it was time to move on. Now I’m trying to figure out what to do with my time. You?” Damien took a drink from his glass.

  �
��IED took some of my sight.” Jay lowered his drink and looked at Damien. “I received an honorable discharge.”

  Damien nodded. He understood the struggle. “Are you able to work, now that you’re home?”

  “For a while, I had a tough time of it, but I moved here and got hooked up with Veterans’ Services.” Jay took a long pull from his beer.

  “That’s good. Some buddies of mine had a real problem transitioning home. There seemed to be a lack of services to help them with it.” He had worked hard, too, to overcome the constant nightmares and the feeling that he was completely alone.

  “That’s just the thing. For a long time, I didn’t know where to turn. Then Veterans’ Services showed me there are a lot of government programs available to military families that many people aren’t aware of. We get them the help they need, so they can start a good civilian life.” Jay reached his hand down, pulled his wallet out of his pant pocket, and opened the distressed leather case.

  “Here’s my card. You should stop by sometime. It’s a great organization and we have some open positions if you’re looking for something in the area.” Jay drained his beer and left some bills on the table. “I’m sitting over there with some vets from the office. Come over if you feel like it.”

  Right on cue a server breezed through the door to the kitchen, carrying a plastic bag for Damien. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate Jay’s offer—he might have kicked back a few with fellow veterans under different circumstances, but he really wanted to get home to Lindsey and Maris.

 

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