She cleared her throat. She liked him, and liked that conversation flowed easily between them. In a way it felt like they were old friends, talking about childhood pets, sibling rivalry, and high school football. Except for that distinctive undercurrent of desire swirling through her… the one she was pretty sure she could feel coming off her date in waves.
He seemed as interested in her as she was in him. But then again, he had that near panic attack in the park when he made his confession about not dating since his wife passed away. Eight years of marriage to his high school sweetheart. When he first told her they got married straight out of school, she thought he meant college, but he dispelled that idea when she’d asked about his alma mater and found out he’d gone straight to the police academy after graduating from Nauset High. Her sisters would have walked away from the table right then and there, convinced that anyone without a college degree wasn’t worth dating. Dennis would probably laugh at her as well, turning his nose up at Ed’s lack of sophistication. Which was a ridiculous thought – why should she care what Dennis thought of her date?
She realized that while Ed had told her about his wife, she’d never confessed her marital status. “You mentioned your wife before… and I guess I should confess that I’ve been married too. Divorced now.”
“Amicable?”
“Not at all,” she said with a wry grin. “I started dating Dennis while I was in grad school. I thought he was everything I wanted. Turns out I had no idea who he was, and he couldn’t care less who I really am. Took me a while to figure out my mistake, and a little longer to extricate myself.” She took another gulp of her wine. “Looking back, I think I was too young to know what I wanted in a relationship.”
“Would you want to get married again?”
The question startled her, seeming to come from so far out in left field. Marriage? Subjecting herself to the dictates of another man? Between the bitter divorce proceedings and the drawn out house sale, she hadn’t considered wanting to shackle herself to anyone ever again. But then again, not all marriages were bad. All of her friends from college led happily married lives, with doting husbands and smiling kids filling her Instagram feed on a daily basis. Almost all the teachers at her new school were also married and seemed happy. Even her date admitted he’d been happy in his marriage until cancer stole his wife. Just because Dennis was wrong for her didn’t mean the institution of marriage was wrong.
Before she could answer his question, Ed placed his warm hand on top of hers. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you with too personal a question.”
“No, it’s okay,” she assured him and realized she meant it. “I never stopped to think about it before now. Never considered my options. The last few months living alone in the cottage have actually been pretty great. My ex was kind of a control freak, and I guess at the moment I’m enjoying my freedom.”
“Understandable.” He started to pull his hand away but she turned hers over so they were palm to palm and caught his fingers.
“I… I didn’t mean it to sound like I’m not interested.”
His lips quirked up at the corners. “Are you? Interested?” The low, seductive tone of his voice sent heat rushing to her face. And other places.
“I might be.”
He cocked his head to the side, giving her an appraising look as he finally withdrew his hand and sat back in his chair. “You said you were too young to know what you wanted before. Does that mean you know what you want now? I mean, hypothetically, if you were looking for a relationship. What is it you want?”
She hesitated. Did she actually want to continue down this path? Was this a conversation people had on a first date? Then again, she’d never even thought to talk openly with Dennis before their wedding day – or after, for that matter – and look how that turned out. Maybe if they had she would’ve realized they wanted vastly different things from a relationship. That Dennis demanded complete control in everything he did… and control of everything she did as well.
Claire placed her wine glass on the white table, and twisted the stem for a moment, staring at the way the candlelight seemed to swirl through the liquid. What was it she wanted most in a relationship? “I think I want a friend, more than anything. Someone I can relax with. Laugh with. You know, simply have fun.”
“Didn’t you have any of that with your ex?”
She shook her head. “Not really. Everything with Dennis was formal. In fact, that pretty much defines most of my life before I moved to Chatham. Overly formal. Stuffy. Uptight.” She blew out a long breath, thinking about her overly academic parents and siblings. Maybe it shouldn’t surprise her that her marriage had that same tone to it.
He chuckled. “So you want a friend. Something purely platonic?”
For some reason, the question sent unbidden images racing through her head, each one hotter than the last, totally contradicting what she’d already said was most important. She shifted in her chair and clenched her legs together at the unwanted sensation at her core. “Not necessarily,” she told him, unable to outright lie.
His blue eyes darkened perceptibly in the candlelight. “That’s good.”
She sucked in a breath at the growl edging his voice. Oh my. Lifting the glass to her lips, needing some moisture in her suddenly dry mouth… The wine was gone. Ed chuckled at her confusion as she eyed the empty glass. “Umm, there seems to be a hole in my wine glass. I don’t remember finishing it.”
“Would you like another?”
Claire glanced at their nearly empty plates. “No, we’re finished eating. And I still need to drive home tonight.”
At the mention of ending the evening, disappointment flit across Ed’s face, but was gone so quickly she thought she’d imagined it. “Fair enough. Do you need to get home soon, or do we have time for a walk on the beach?”
Ten minutes later, the pair strolled down the lantern-lit path through the dune grass. The ocean gently lapped along the shoreline, tiny waves rolling in slow succession. A large, not-quite-full moon rose on the horizon, adding sparkle to the rolling water. The only sounds were the cadence of the waves and a distant fog horn repeating one mournful note.
“It’s so peaceful here,” Claire remarked. “The sounds of the beach at night are so soothing.”
Ed reached for her hand and tangled their fingers, sending a thrill racing up her arm. “Certainly a lot calmer than the usual summer cacophony. In July and August, we get called down here a few times a week for noise complaints.”
“I don’t want to talk about summer crowds right now. In fact, I don’t even want to think about them.”
“Oh yeah?” Ed smiled, and Claire saw the moonlight glinting off his white teeth. He squeezed her hand, sending another burst of heat through her body. “What do you want to think about?”
“Well, there’s one thing I’ve had on my mind all night, actually.” She pulled him to a stop by the edge of the water, turning to face him but not letting go of his hand. The butterflies in her stomach were at it again, and she hoped she could go through with this before she lost her wine-induced confidence.
“Tell me.” Ed’s voice was so low it was almost a growl.
“I think I’d rather show you,” she whispered back. She placed her hand flat on his chest for a moment, savoring the feel of the hard muscles beneath the white cotton shirt, before gathering the material in her hand and pulling his head down level with her own. He quickly took the hint and closed the space between their mouths, his lips firm and yet soft as they caressed hers with the barest of touches before pulling back. His eyes searched hers, looking both eager and slightly confused.
“Claire, I…”
She didn’t want him to tell her to stop or say this was a mistake. She made a split decision not to give him a chance to protest. Still grasping his shirt, she pulled him back in for another kiss, this time going up on her toes and releasing her hold on his other hand to cradle the side of his face, holding him where she wanted him, taking the k
iss she’d been thinking about since she first laid eyes on him.
For a brief moment he stood frozen, and she thought he might reject her forwardness. Reject her kisses. Reject her. Had she misread the situation? Imagined the chemistry and heat she felt arcing between them? Maybe it was too much too soon. So much for taking control.
But when she nipped his bottom lip to end the kiss, he wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her tight against him. Tight enough to feel how affected he was by the kiss, and close enough that his body heat enveloped her completely. A growl rumbled in his chest as he took complete control, his mouth claiming hers in a hard, all-consuming kiss that took her breath away.
Flames engulfed her entire body, the kiss sending scorching waves all the way to her toes as he devoured her, tongues tangling without hesitation and igniting heat with every sensual glide. One of his hands slid up her side to grip her neck, angling her head for better access. He hummed in the back of his throat as he pressed in for more, and Claire was so ready to give it to him. The hand still at her waist gripped tighter, pulling her harder against his front. She could feel the bulge of his erection straining against his jeans. Suddenly it was all too real.
Too much. Too fast.
She broke away from the kiss, pulling out of his tight grip. He immediately took a step back, hands dropped by his sides, shock registering on his face. “Claire, I’m sorry…”
Quickly, she stepped closer, placing two fingers over his lips to shush him. “Don’t. Don’t apologize. I started it. I wanted to kiss you, to see…”
His eyelids settled to half-mast. He circled her wrist with his fingers and pulled her hand away from his mouth. “To see…?”
“To see if this crazy chemistry was all in my head,” she whispered, telling him half the truth. Because that was actually true, and a big part of why she decided to kiss him. But not the only reason. Because she’d been thinking about kissing him all through drinks and dinner, and wondering what he would taste like. What it would feel like to have another man’s hands wrapped around her waist and holding her close. For so many years there had only been Dennis and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d wanted a kiss quite as much. Needed it like oxygen.
His hands settled back on her hips, his eyes darting between hers, searching. He must have found what he was looking for, the corners of his mouth quirking up into a smile. “Trust me, you’re not in this alone, Claire. I feel it too.”
She blew out the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “So what do we do now?”
The smile on his face widened. “I think a second date might be in order, don’t you?”
8
Tuesday April 21, 2:00 a.m.
Pleasant Bay, Chatham
Ed lay on his back staring up at the shadows as they danced on the ceiling. The quiet of the empty house felt heavier than usual, his thoughts bouncing through the space and echoing loudly in his head. With his parents and Kayleigh away, the old farmhouse felt too big. Too empty. He pushed up on one elbow and flipped his pillow, turning on his other side trying to get comfortable. Trying to quiet his mind. Trying to make sense of the tangled emotions swirling through him.
The rambling farmhouse overlooking Pleasant Bay had been in his mother’s family for the last century, each generation adding on rooms and levels until the sprawling structure rivaled some of those newer McMansions in size. Luckily his father, a general contractor, knew a thing or two about construction, and kept ahead of the various issues that go along with owning an antique home. Sometimes Ed felt guilty that neither he nor his older brother joined his father in his business. Dylan had always been on the clumsy side, not into sports as much as studying, so it was no surprise when he earned the Valedictorian award at Nauset, continuing his illustrious education in New York City and ended up in finance instead of carpentry. Barely in his thirties, Dylan was already a retired bazillionaire, investing in a new venture with their cousin Brian.
Ed, on the other hand, never made it to college – despite the full ride to Boston College he’d earned with his skills on the gridiron. When he found out at his high school graduation that Laura was pregnant with his child, they’d decided to get married and keep the baby. Instead of BC, he attended the local police academy and started work as a beat cop in his hometown. His promotion to detective didn’t come until after cancer stole his wife.
A framed picture on the dresser caught his eye, the white wood gleaming in the moonlight that filtered in through the bedroom window. It was too dark to actually see the photo, but he knew it was a picture of him and Laura holding Kayleigh on the day she was born. It was his favorite photo of their little family, despite the fact Laura hated the way she looked in that awful blue hospital gown. To him, she looked young and full of life – heck, she’d only been eighteen at the time and he was barely a year older when that photo was taken. The smile on Laura’s face was one of pure joy at the miracle she held in her arms. Not a day went by without him looking at that photo and missing her wide smile.
Except he hadn’t been thinking about her or missing her earlier, when he kissed Claire. When he gave in to temptation on the deserted stretch of beach, pressing his lips to hers and feeling the spark of something he’d thought died along with his wife. An ache twisted deep in his chest as he thought about the two very different women.
Claire. With her short spiky hair and mile-long legs, she was physically the opposite of Laura in every way possible. His wife had been sunshine and sweetness, blonde and green-eyed with a pixie-like frame that made her the perfect choice to be at the top of the cheerleader pyramid. And maybe that was part of his attraction to the golden eyed beauty he’d met tonight – the two were nothing alike. Not a single thing about Claire reminded him of his wife. Which was good, since he wasn’t looking to replace Laura. No one could ever replace her. His heart clenched at the thought.
He and Laura met during freshman orientation at Nauset High School and it was love at first sight for him. They’d experienced every teenaged “first” together, starting with their first real kiss and moving on from there. When she told him she was pregnant, there was no hesitation or question in his mind about what to do next. A month after their high school graduation, they were married in a small ceremony on the beach with only their closest friends and Ed’s family surrounding them. Laura’s very religious and conservative parents wanted nothing to do with “the situation” as they called it, refusing to attend the wedding or acknowledge the birth of their granddaughter. A few years later, her family left the Cape and hadn’t been heard from since. When Laura was diagnosed with cancer, Ed tried to track them, to let them know about their daughter’s illness in case they wanted to make amends. He never found them. It was as if they vanished without a trace.
And then Laura was gone. But unlike her parents’ disappearance, there were still traces of Laura everywhere he looked, in the photos and art hanging around his family’s farmhouse. Even in Kayleigh’s smile, so very like her mother’s. He loved that smile. He still loved Laura, even though she’d been gone for a few years now. He would never love another woman in the way he loved her. His heart clenched again, and he rubbed a hand over the ache in his chest.
Confusion and a dull pain filled his head. How could he feel anything for someone new when he still loved his wife so much? How could he let someone else kiss him, make him want things… how could he even think about moving on? And yet, there was no denying the instant and bone-deep attraction he felt for Claire. Completely different from what he’d felt for Laura when they’d first been dating, but at the same time he knew it was no less valid. He and Laura had been teenagers, exploring together.
The spark arcing between himself and Claire felt different. Heat between two adults who’d loved and lost, who’d been through heartache before. Heat he wanted – no, needed – to explore further. He hardened at the thought of those steamy kisses on the beach, remembering the feel of her soft, pliant body pressed between her car and h
is hard body when they kissed goodnight. Her hot breath whispering “Sweet dreams,” before she pulled away. He muttered a curse, wrapping his fingers around himself. He imagined it was Claire’s hand gripping him. Claire’s golden eyes locked with his, her soft pink lips whispering his name in the dark…
When he opened his eyes again, the sky outside his window had turned a lighter shade of grey. He rose from bed, peeling off his wet boxers and grabbing the sweatpants from the chair near the dresser. Quickly stripping the bed, he bundled the sheets and headed downstairs to the laundry room.
The only saving grace of his current situation was that Kayleigh and his parents were out of town for the week. He shook his head as he added detergent to the machine and pressed the start button. It was well beyond the time they should’ve moved out of his parents’ home. Especially if he was going to revert back into a horny teenager jerking himself off in bed and having to clean up after wet dreams. For a brief second, he wondered why he’d stayed so long. But he knew why. For Kayleigh.
When Laura was first diagnosed, they’d sold their small two-bedroom home on the other side of town and moved back into the farmhouse, allowing his parents to help provide a more stable environment for Kayleigh while he and Laura traveled the country, desperately seeking treatment for her rare form of early-onset breast cancer. Trips that proved fruitless when test after test came back inconclusive. Experimental treatments that gave them hope for a month at a time before ultimately letting them down.
They’d missed large chunks of Kayleigh’s childhood, sitting in hospital rooms ranging from New York City to St. Louis to an experimental clinic outside of Los Angeles. They missed her first week of preschool. The first Kindergarten parents’ night. Her first grade holiday pageant. Years and events with his daughter he could never get back. Years he’d spent watching his wife wither away, trying to stay hopeful until there was no hope left. Laura passed away before Kayleigh’s eighth birthday. Ed hadn’t been able to function for months, taking a leave of absence from the force and abdicating the rest of his responsibilities. Including Kayleigh.
Ed's Blind Date Dilemma Page 6