“Liam, Daph,” he called. “Come on in. Andra’s going to open presents while dinner’s cooking.”
He wasn’t the only one whose mood had improved. Liam grabbed Daphne’s hand with a broad smile and raced with her toward the house. Gideon chuckled as he stepped aside to let them in.
This was what life was supposed to be about—celebrating birthdays, enjoying fabulous home-cooked meals with family and good friends, letting the vibrant joy of children remind him that the simple things in life made it worth living, and acknowledging the incredible forces of nature.
Speaking of forces of nature….
He sidled up behind Erin, who was still in the kitchen, and slipped his arms around her again. Lowering his head, he kissed her neck, pleased when she turned her head toward him again with a wide smile.
“See? Intimacy isn’t always about sex,” he murmured. “Most of the time, it’s just being together. Like this.”
“And you still think you’ll be okay if this is the best the physical side gets with me? If this is the most relaxed and… into it… as I can be?”
“Erin, this is more than I’ve had with a woman in eight years. It may be more than I’ve ever had.”
She snorted.
“I’m serious. And what’s sad is that I don’t think I realized what I was missing until now.”
She tensed in his arms, and he released her. When she turned to face him with a thoughtful frown pinching her brows, he took a step back to give her space.
“Too much?” he asked.
“No…. I’ve just never—”
“Hey, lovebirds!” Owen called from the living room. “Get in here already. You’re holding up the party.”
Gideon’s head sagged, dropping hard enough to elicit a complaint from the muscles in his neck. It appeared he’d have to wait to hear what Erin had never. Sighing, he offered his hand, and she twined her fingers with his. He lifted her knuckles to his lips.
They settled on the couch together with Daphne and Liam sitting on the floor beneath them, and Gideon was surprised when Erin tucked her feet under her with her knees resting on his thigh and pulled his arm around her shoulders.
Hope helped Owen bring the gifts to Andra. The first she opened was the handmade card Liam and Daphne had made for her at their dinner with Hope and Owen, and her genuine appreciation of the kids’ card warmed Gideon’s heart. Next, she opened the gifts from Red’s sons—high-end fishing gear that made Andra cheer with a delight similar to Daphne’s and Liam’s watching the waves—that tied in with the two-day fishing excursion Red had bought for them both.
“Mine ties in with yours, Owen,” Gideon said. “So they probably ought to be opened together.”
Nodding, Owen handed both gifts to his mother. She unwrapped Owens’s first—the shot Gideon had taken of her and Red in the kayaks, and she laughed as she studied it. Then she opened Gideon’s gift, and pressed her fingertips to her lips.
“You’ve captured Red and me perfectly,” she said. “But this one….”
She stared at the shot Gideon had taken of her son and daughter—the one he’d known was perfect even without looking—for almost five minutes. Then, without a word, she strode over and wrapped Gideon in a powerful hug.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I have no words for how beautiful and how great a gift this is.”
“I think what Mom is trying to say is that no one has ever captured us and our love for each other so perfectly,” Owen said. “It’s beautiful, Gideon. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he replied. “Truly.”
He swiped at his tingling eyes before they gave him away. For a long time, Andra, Owen, and Erin had only had each other, and instead of letting the hardships of life fracture their love like happened to so many families, they had used those hardships to fortify that love. He thought he’d understood that, but he hadn’t. Not until this moment. He could search the world over and never find a greater gift than that photo.
Sensing Erin’s gaze on him, he turned his attention to her.
So much for thinking the tears in his own eyes had gone unnoticed.
“Don’t worry,” he said. He meant it teasingly, but his voice was thick with emotion, and it edged the joking tone out. “I have a print for you, too. I’m just waiting for Owen to finish the driftwood frame. He’ll will get one, too, as soon as he decides how he wants to frame it.”
She gave him a watery smile, opened her mouth to speak and snapped it shut without a word, then buried her face against his chest. He tightened his arms around her.
“All right,” Owen said, clearing his throat. “Since everyone is either already crying or on the verge, I might as well push us over the edge.”
Owen stepped over to the hearth and plucked a tiny box from behind the family photos that adorned the shelf and took a knee in front of Hope. A collective gasp filled the room, but Hope grinned. This was the secret behind her smile earlier.
Gideon kept the suspicion to himself, certain the couple intended their engagement to be the best gift of all for Andra’s birthday. Daphne didn’t know, however, and she let out a squeal that could wake the dead. Owen chuckled and waved her over. The little girl melted into her mother’s side and regarded her future stepfather with wide, hopeful eyes.
“When Sam and Sean died,” Owen began, “it nearly killed me.”
Andra let out a small sound that wasn’t one of joy, and Gideon glanced sharply at her. Had Owen…? The matching expression on Erin’s face—a brief flicker of pain—said yes, he had been tempted to take his life and might have even tried. The pain this family had survived….
“I thought I’d have to spend the rest of my life alone,” Owen continued. “Until you both showed me that there was something on the horizon for me, something wonderful. A new family. Hope, will you marry me and be the bright future I thought I’d lost forever?”
“Yes,” she breathed and held her hand out for the ring.
“And Daphne, may I have your blessing to marry your mother and to be your stepfather?”
The little girl launched herself into his arms. “Yes!” she cried.
The ring Owen slipped onto Hope’s finger with Daphne’s arms still locked around his neck was among the most exquisite and sentimental Gideon had ever seen—a round-cut diamond flanked by iridescent abalone shell.
While everyone hugged and congratulated Hope and Owen, Gideon slipped outside. Walking over to the railing, he gripped it and watched the waves and moody gray clouds. Everything was gray.
Everything but the brilliant light burning inside him.
It had been a long time since he’d been a part of something like that in there, and the last time, he’d been too young and full of adolescent brashness to appreciate it. After high school, he’d gotten caught up in the excitement and freedom of college life, and after that, he’d been so busy building his photography career into something stable and profitable that he’d missed a lot of birthdays and Thanksgivings and Christmases. And in the eight years he’d been with Hannah…. Well, he could admit now that he’d never been happy with her. His relationship had cast a shadow over the get-togethers with his family. Forget the ones with hers. Those had consisted mostly of sitting around watching TV, arguing about the latest celebrity gossip, or fighting about something that had happened years ago. Moments like those in Owen’s house this evening were what had been missing from his life.
The door opened, and he wasn’t surprised when Erin joined him at the railing and slipped her arm around his waist.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he replied. “It’s been too long since I’ve been part of something like that in there. I’ve missed it.”
“So why’d you walk out?”
“I figured it would be smart to get some air before I said something I don’t think either of us is ready for yet.” He turned to her and clasped her face. With a gentle smile, he brushed his thumbs over her cheeks, then bent his head to ki
ss her. “Don’t think too much on that right now, all right?”
She nodded. “No promises on that. But don’t stay out here too long. Dinner’s about ready.”
“I’ll be in shortly.”
She laid a finger on his jaw, turned his face to hers, kissed him lightly on the lips. Then she was striding away. He watched her until she was once again ensconced in the kitchen and for almost two minutes after, mesmerized by the graceful, habitual motions of her body as she stirred the noodles, tucked the garlic bread into the oven, and tasted the sauce one last time. When his son ventured into the kitchen, it melted Gideon’s heart when she pulled a folding step stool out from beside the refrigerator so Liam could stir the sauce.
The picture they made….
Gideon slipped his phone out of his pocket, and even though the shot wouldn’t be nearly as good as one taken with his camera, he snapped the picture. Sometimes a snapshot was enough, and this was one of those times. The first of many more to come, he hoped.
Twelve
Despite her best efforts to heed Gideon’s advice, she’d failed miserably to keep his words from her mind all through dinner. She’d had a little more luck during cake and ice cream—the kids’ sugar-fueled enthusiasm was hard to resist—but now, following her family down the stairs to Hidden Beach, her mind replayed her conversation with Gideon again.
There was only one way to take his words. He was in this for keeps. Even after everything she’d told him.
“You’re awfully quiet,” he remarked as they reached the bottom of the stairs.
They hung back a few paces as their party headed toward the arch and beyond to the main beach. Liam and Daphne raced ahead, hooting and crowing and laughing as their voices echoed off the stone.
“Just thinking,” she replied.
“That’s obvious. About what?”
She hadn’t sorted through her feelings about his earlier statement, so she said, “You and Hannah. I want to talk about this idea of you being too hard on her, if that’s all right with you.”
His brows furrowed and his lips flattened into a thin line. “Sure. Why not?”
She winced at the bitterness in his voice. “That’s exactly what I was talking about. Your anger at her is taking over your life. We’re all having a great time tonight, and now you’re scowling at just the mention of her.” His expression darkened further to perfectly match the brewing storm clouds above them. “If you want me to shut up about it, I will. I know I’m sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong… except that, all else aside, I do care about you, and I’ve never been able to sit by and watch the people I care about suffer without trying to help even when there’s nothing I can really do.”
He didn’t answer, and his body language—tight expression, hands stuffed in his pockets with his eyes trained on the damp sand—didn’t give her much hope he was willing to let her say her piece. And that, she was certain now, was the problem.
“I get it. It’s not my place.” Then anger bubbled up, and she added more sharply than she wanted to, “I’ll shut up and we’ll go on pretending this will just go away on its own and that it won’t keep eating away at you until there’s nothing left of that lighthearted sense of humor I so love about you.”
Finally, he stopped and looked at her, still frowning. “So you do think I’m being too hard on her.”
“Yes, I do.”
“She hasn’t exactly given me a wealth of reasons to be proud of her parenting skills.”
“I know she hasn’t. But—hear me out on this—I think I get her. She reminds me of how Chaz made me feel. Like, no matter how hard I tried to do and be what he wanted, it was never going to be good enough.”
“That’s nothing like this.”
“Isn’t it? She’s afraid of failing and of disappointing you just like I was afraid of disappointing Chaz. When was the last time you said a kind word to her?”
“I can’t remember the last time she gave me a reason to.”
“Is that really true, or are you just in the habit of pointing out her failures?”
He folded his arms defensively across his chest, scowling.
Erin continued before he could formulate a response. “How do you feel right now? Attacked?”
“A little, yes.” He shifted his weight, but his posture didn’t relax. “More than a little.”
“Imagine how you would feel if I kept talking to you like this. You’d start to feel pretty resentful, wouldn’t you.”
Grudgingly, he nodded.
“And then you’d begin wondering what the point of trying is when I don’t even notice. By pointing out only your flaws, I am setting you up to fail. And that’s what you’re doing to her. She’s given up trying to please you because she can’t.”
“It’s not about pleasing me, Erin. It’s about our son and making sure he’s safe and loved and has what he needs.”
“Agreed. But she was pretty young when she had Liam, right?”
He nodded. “Twenty.”
“And you were twenty-seven or eight with your own business and a solid income by that point, yes?”
“I had to fight a lot harder for jobs then, but yes.”
“Can you see where I’m going with this? Here you are, this successful, self-made man who obviously has his act together. You’re older and more experienced in life, and she looks to you for guidance.”
A tremor worked its way through his body like he’d encountered something unnerving, and his hands came up. “All right, I get it.”
She remained where she stood while he wandered a few paces away. Then he stopped and stared up at the rock arch separating Hidden Beach from the main beach with his hands in his pockets. The rest of their party had long since disappeared through it, and as of yet, no one had thought to look back and see that she and Gideon weren’t following. Figuring he needed some distance from her and the uncomfortable points she’d made, she resisted the urge to go to him and wrap her arms around him until his head and shoulders sagged in acceptance.
She was mildly surprised he let her hug him, but even though he did, there was a stiffness in his body, and she missed the easy way he always responded to her.
“You’re angry with me.”
“No,” he sighed. “I’m not.”
“Do you think I’m wrong?”
He didn’t answer immediately, and as the seconds ticked by, each slower than the last, she thought he wouldn’t. But then he shook his head.
“I honestly don’t know. She’s never shown me anything that says she genuinely wants to be a better parent. Or a parent at all. She’s….” He sighed again and some of the tension left him. “I don’t know. Not quite detached, but definitely clueless and pretty self-absorbed.”
“That doesn’t negate my point.”
“No, I guess it doesn’t.”
He pulled out of her arms and wandered away again, closer to the arch. His dog came zooming through—soaking wet, of course—and after giving her a couple halfhearted pats, he sent her off to find the rest of their group. Turning back to Erin, he asked, “What are you suggesting I do?”
“Try focusing on what she does right instead of what she does wrong. Negative thoughts beget negative results, positive thoughts beget positive results, and all that.”
“And what if you’re wrong and she really is as apathetic as I think she is?”
“Then it’ll still benefit you. You can’t change the situation. You can only change your reaction to it.”
“When did you turn into a walking motivational poster?”
She grinned as an inkling of his delightful sense of humor returned to his voice. This time when she slipped her arms around him, he folded his around her willingly and fluidly, and even the fine mist beginning to drift over the beach couldn’t cool the warmth she found in his embrace.
“I know one thing for sure now,” she murmured, resting her head on his shoulder. “I don’t like it when you’re mad at me.”
He chuckled. “I wa
sn’t mad at you.”
“I know, but you weren’t happy with me, either. Feels pretty much the same.”
“Mmm. I can’t promise I’ll be able to be nicer to Hannah, but I’ll try.”
“That’s all I ask.”
“If nothing else, it’ll be better for Liam if I’m not constantly fighting with her.”
“Exactly.”
He lowered his head to kiss her, then kissed her neck and took her hand, and they started walking again. Idly, Erin wondered how far behind they were now. They strolled in silence all the way beneath the arch and out to the main beach. Red, her mother, brother, Hope, Daphne, Liam, and Shadow were already halfway to where the Jewel River spilled shallowly across the sand before it reached the cove. Since they were already so far behind, Erin asked if Gideon wanted to just wait in the shelter of her driftwood fort for their families to return.
They stepped over the big log in front and sat together on the dry sand inside. The fort wasn’t by any means waterproof, but it would shelter them from the mist that had coated their clothes and hair with tiny silver beads and it also provided a solid windbreak. Sitting half in Gideon’s lap, Erin picked up a long stick and drew patterns in the sand.
“I love that you aren’t afraid to speak your mind with me,” Gideon said quietly.
“Believe me, this is a new development.”
“Then I appreciate it even more.”
“Even when it’s something hard for you to hear?”
“Especially then. It makes me feel like I’m not in this alone.” He tilted her face toward him and skimmed his fingers along her jaw with such tenderness that she shivered. “I know you’re there to catch me when I slip.”
She caught her lip between her teeth. His words on Owen’s deck returned to her mind along with a potent desire to explore what they meant, but she still hadn’t had enough time to work through the feelings they evoked, so she leaned toward him, slowly. Then she gave in to the urge and kissed him, tugging on his lip when she pulled away.
He dove after her mouth, and she tensed, fearing what was to come. But it didn’t. He didn’t try to coax her into opening to a deeper kiss and didn’t try to force his tongue into her mouth like Chaz would’ve. Instead, he was content to work her lips—first the bottom, then the top—as he slid his hands over her shoulders and splayed them across her back to pull her body closer. Once she realized her boundary wouldn’t be breeched, she relaxed and let the sensations of his caresses ripple through her.
The Driftwood Promise Page 11