Meet Me in Barefoot Bay

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Meet Me in Barefoot Bay Page 9

by Roxanne St Claire


  Lacey looked to Jocelyn for the tie-breaker. She just shrugged. “It was two against two. Zoe’s exuberance won, as usual.”

  Ashley shoved the bag at Lacey. “Don’t worry, Mom, yours isn’t a push-up.”

  “A minor miracle.” She didn’t know whether to laugh or throw the bag at Zoe, who pushed her sunglasses into her hair so Lacey could get a good look at her why-the-hell-not expression.

  “For God’s sake, Lacey, you’re in your mid-thirties and you are not a nun.”

  No kidding. You should have seen me ten minutes ago. “Yeah, but you know how I feel about my boobs. They’re too big.”

  “Your boobs are gorgeous. Own them.” Zoe trotted off toward the beach without waiting for a response.

  Her boobs were gorgeous… the way Clay Walker drew them.

  “Oh, Mom, you’ll love it,” Ashley insisted. “Aunt Jocelyn bought us all new suits and, oh my God, they all cost—”

  Jocelyn slammed her hand over Ashley’s mouth. “Not important.”

  “Jocelyn,” Lacey said, shaking her head. “That wasn’t necessary.”

  “Expediency is very valuable.”

  “Expediency?” She must have wanted to avoid south Mimosa Key.

  “I couldn’t wait to get to the beach. Where should we put this?”

  “Let’s go down by the water.” Lacey took in their haul. “God, look at all this stuff. What, no blow-up tubes and rafts?”

  “They’re in the car,” Zoe said on her way back up from testing the water. “Don’t worry; we didn’t forget sunscreen. Walgreens had everything the Ritz didn’t.”

  Ashley ripped off her T-shirt to expose a minuscule lime green halter bikini with plenty of padding, and tore off for the gentle swells of the Gulf.

  “My suit better be bigger than that,” Lacey said to Zoe.

  “Not much,” Zoe replied. Then she leaned in to whisper, “How’d it go with the big stud? That’s an architectural term, you know.”

  “Really good. We made so much progress.”

  “Really?”

  “He has all these amazing ideas, I mean you can’t believe his vision for this place. So, so much bigger than anything I’ve ever dreamed of.”

  Tessa and Jocelyn came closer, carrying a cooler between them. “Really? Like what?”

  “Like villas! Individual, adorable villas. And the style! So beautiful, all Moroccan and Casablanca -inspired.”

  “Ooooh,” Jocelyn cooed. “Your favorite movie.”

  “I know, right? We’re going to watch it tonight for more inspiration.”

  Zoe choked softly. “Is that what you kids are calling it these days? Hah.” She turned to the water and reached out her arms. “Here I come, ocean!”

  “It’s the Gulf!” Lacey called to her, getting a “whatever” wave in response.

  Jocelyn looked skyward. “Ignore her. If you want to meet with him tonight…” She frowned at Lacey. “She’s right, isn’t she?”

  Lacey couldn’t hide the smile. “I gotta say, there is some smokin’-hot chemistry between us.”

  “That could complicate things,” Tessa said.

  “It already has,” Lacey agreed. “But you know what else? He wants to do the work for free. So he can… What?”

  “For free?” Jocelyn almost choked. “Why would he do that?”

  “He needs the creds. And with his ideas, I need to save money. I can’t afford what he wants, but, oh, God, I want to. I’ll tell you all about it later. How’s Ashley been?”

  “She’s fine,” Tessa said. “Just a little cell-phone-aholic.”

  “She is that,” Lacey agreed. “Sorry. I’ll talk to her about it.”

  “You might have to talk to her about more than that,” Jocelyn said as they walked across the sand.

  “What do you mean?”

  “She thinks you’re going to get back together with David.”

  Jocelyn’s words brought Lacey to a dead stop. “What?”

  “It’s true,” Tessa said. “I drove over here with her and she dropped enough hints that I am certain she thinks this storm is bringing him home.”

  “Home?” Lacey had to laugh. “He’s been here one time, when she was a year old. Twice if you count meeting my parents when we were dating. Mimosa Key has never been his home. And you know that man couldn’t be less interested in being a father.” She heard her voice rise and didn’t care. “And just for the record, I couldn’t be less interested in ever seeing him again.”

  “Shhh. Don’t let her hear you,” Jocelyn said, giving up the cooler to put her hands on Lacey’s shoulders.

  “But doesn’t she know that he’s had every opportunity to visit and has done nothing but send money?” Little bits of anger and resentment, sharp as nails, pressed against the inside of her chest. How long had Ashley been harboring these ideas? “What started this, the hurricane? Having her home blown away? Facing death at a young age?”

  “Maybe all of those things, but…” Jocelyn shook her head. “My guess is it’s a pretty natural thing for a fourteen-year-old to have Daddy fantasies.”

  Daddy fantasies? “Whoa, those are worse than the fantasies I’ve been having all day.”

  “She’s not happy about you lusting after the architect, either,” Tessa added.

  “I’m not.” She closed her eyes, not about to lie to her best friends. “Okay, I’m lusting. I mean, like whoa and damn, yes, he’s so freaking hot I could jump his holy bones. But—”

  “Oh my God, don’t let Zoe hear you,” Tessa warned. “She’ll be buying condoms on our next stop at Walgreens.”

  “Maybe she should.”

  “I like the sound of this,” Jocelyn said. “Go change into your suit in your dad’s van. We’ll wait for you. I want to hear about these big ideas of his.”

  Lacey dug into the bag and pulled out something fuchsia, about the size of a Band-Aid. “There better be a cover-up in here, too.”

  “Ashley said you have a ton of them.”

  “At home.”

  “No one’s here, Lace,” Jocelyn assured her. “Go. We’ll set up camp.”

  Jogging up to the van they’d borrowed from her dad, Lacey squeezed into the back, stripping down and tsking over the price of the suit that barely covered her breasts and bottom. It was cute, but still.

  She glanced down at her cleavage, and the rest of her. And all she could think of was the way Clay had drawn her. Did she really look that beautiful to him? That strong and capable? There were no words for how much she wanted to be the woman in that drawing.

  The drawing! She had to go snag it before Ashley did. She’d tuck it away somewhere safe so she could pull out it out whenever she felt weak and insecure. Those times when she’d want to be reminded that a gorgeous, smart, funny, kiss-you-crazy man saw her exactly as the woman she wanted to be.

  She rolled up her clothes and let her mind drift back to Ashley. Why this sudden preoccupation with David? Was it because she thought Lacey might be truly attracted to another man? Did she sense that Clay Walker was somehow different from the men she’d dated in the past.

  Because he was.

  She’d talk to Ashley tonight, before she spent another minute with Clay. They needed to be open and honest about this. And about Ashley’s father, who was never, ever coming to Mimosa Key.

  Opening the back door slowly, she squinted into the bright sunshine as she climbed out.

  “Wow. Pink is definitely your color.”

  At the sound of a male voice, she gasped, spinning around to see a man silhouetted in the sunlight. She was vaguely aware that he held a paper. The sketch, her sketch, but that was not what short-circuited her brain. Oh, no. It was the complete impossibility of what she was seeing.

  All she could do was croak his name. “David?”

  Chapter Ten

  It’s Fox.”

  Lacey just stared, and tried to breathe despite the six-hundred-pound boulder that had just landed on her chest.

  “I go by Fox now.” He t
ook a step closer, the world behind and around him fading into black and white as David Fox, a man she had once loved with every fiber of her being and more, stood bathed in sunlight, a dark-haired, green-eyed devil.

  “You look fantastic, Lacey.” He held out the drawing. “Self-portrait?”

  She snatched away the paper, her heart wrenching as a corner tore in her hand. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see Ashley. And you, of course. And… wow.” He angled his head and openly admired her. “As good in three dimensions as”—he nodded to the drawing—“two.”

  She covered her chest with the paper, painfully aware that she was in nothing but bright pink strips of silk that barely covered breasts that David had once suggested she have reduced.

  “So how are you?” he asked with a wide smile that showed masculine dimples in hollowed cheeks with a hint of whiskers. A linen shirt hung over his lean body, and despite the trousers he wore, he didn’t show a bead of perspiration anywhere. In ninety-two degrees.

  “I’m…” Dizzy. Stunned. Hoping to wake up any second. “You might have warned me you were coming.”

  He gave her a look of disbelief. “Didn’t Ashley tell you?”

  Ashley?

  She thinks you’re going to get back together with David.

  “Have you talked to her?”

  “Not exactly,” he said, turning to look at Ashley in the water, offering his classic, handsome profile to her. “We’ve been communicating online. Today, in fact. She told me you’d be here.”

  He was chatting online with her daughter?

  “Is it safe for her to be out that far?” he asked.

  Lacey took a few steps to see over the rise to the water. “She’s just past the sandbar. The water’s still shallow there, but it drops off after that.”

  “I don’t know. It looks far.”

  Irritation fired through her. “She’s with my friends. She’ll be fine, David.”

  “Fox,” he said. “I really don’t answer to David anymore. Are your friends CPR trained?”

  She choked a little. “Seriously? After thirteen years of doing a complete disappearing act, you’re going to show up here and question my parenting skills?”

  “I’m not questioning them.” He squinted at Ashley. “She seems well adjusted enough.”

  Seems? He’d determined that from “communicating online” with her and seeing her from three hundred feet?

  “She is,” Lacey said. “But this is going to throw her for a loop.”

  “Are those the same women from the dorm you RA’d in college?”

  “Yes.” She wasn’t surprised he remembered them. The year David and Lacey had been together, she’d spent every other minute with her three best friends.

  “David, why don’t we go somewhere and talk?”

  “I want to see Ashley.”

  Her heart sank. “Just let me…” Get my head around this. “Talk to you. Privately. So you can tell me why you’re here and how long you’re staying.”

  “I told you why I’m here. And I’m staying for a while.”

  A while? What was a while? Five minutes was too long a while. “You’ll find it pretty boring here, believe me. No cliffs to scale, no rapids to navigate, no icebergs to climb.”

  “But one very beautiful woman to thaw.” He did the head-tilt thing again, letting his gaze roll over her as slowly and sensually as the waves on the sand. “If she’d just relax and say hello.” He held out his arms.

  Instantly she backed away, toward the van. Feeling silly, she turned and lifted the hatch door, tucking the drawing away safely and grabbing the shirt she’d just taken off.

  “I can’t believe she was e-mailing you,” she said.

  “Not e-mail, exactly. We message on Facebook.”

  “You’re her Facebook friend?” Why, oh why, had she stopped looking at Ashley’s Facebook page? Because it was a bunch of “you’ve been tagged” photos and silly middle-school jokes and Farmville announcements. There’d been no David Steven Fox when she’d last checked Ashley’s page.

  “She friended me.”

  “Of course. You’d never seek her out.”

  He made her jump by putting a hand on her shoulder. “I’m here, aren’t I? Can’t I get some credit?”

  Actually, no. “Look,” she said, letting out a breath as she stabbed her arms into her shirtsleeves and buttoned up with maddeningly unsteady hands. “This has really thrown me, David.”

  “Please call me Fox. I have a new career now and, as part of that, I legally dropped David from my name.”

  “A new career? I didn’t know you had an old one.”

  “I’ve been studying with some of the greatest chefs in the world. What started out as a new adventure became my passion. You know I love to cook, and now I’m formally trained.”

  “That’s great. Congratulations.” She still didn’t see why he’d change his name, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that he was here and Ashley—

  Surely Ashley wouldn’t go running into his arms after being ignored her whole life? She glanced again at the beach. Ashley was still swimming, just past the sandbar but visible.

  “Let’s go over by the table and talk.”

  He started to follow her through the reeds of sea oats. “You can’t keep me from her forever,” he said softly.

  “David—er, Fox. You can’t just spring yourself on a fourteen-year-old who’s been through a trauma.”

  “Ashley told me you spent the storm in the bathtub.”

  Resentment coiled through her and knotted deep in her gut. It was bad enough that Ashley had told him about their ordeal and forgotten to mention that she was on Facebook with her father who hadn’t seen her since she was a baby. But the slight reprimand in his tone really irked.

  “There really wasn’t time to evacuate safely,” she said. “And I kept her alive.”

  “She shouldn’t have been here.” Nothing slight about that accusation.

  “Oh, right, David, like you would have been a better parent. Like you wouldn’t have her hiking into African villages for an evening of body piercing.”

  “She should see Africa. Once you’ve slept in the mud houses of the Bamako, you see life differently.”

  “She sees life fine.” Lacey leaned against the trunk of the poinciana for support. “I don’t know how your appearance is going to affect her.”

  “I’m her father. And it’s a reunion, not a return from the dead.”

  “Reunion?” She had to laugh softly. “You haven’t seen her since the week of her first birthday.” When he’d stayed exactly forty-eight hours. She could only hope history repeated itself.

  “I’ve sent her cards and presents.”

  “And she saved every one,” she assured him. “But Hurricane Damien stole them, along with a lot of stability. So I’m just really worried about… this.”

  “And the money?”

  Was he accusing her of taking it? “Ashley has an account with every dime you’ve ever sent her. You are free to audit that. I’m saving it to pay for college and whatever else she needs. She knows you’ve sent it and appreciates it.”

  But the truth was that every check seemed to make Ashley sad, and Lacey’s heart had broken for her daughter, who deserved to be loved, not bought.

  “You owned this house outright, didn’t you?” He gestured toward the exposed foundation.

  Just how much had Ashley shared with him? “Granny Dot left it to me when she died, about a year after my grandfather died. Ashley and I’d been living in an apartment, so it was a blessing. Without any rent or mortgage, I was able to start a small baking business, mostly cakes for weddings and functions.”

  His eyes lit. “So we’re both in the food industry.”

  “No. I’m… doing something different.”

  “What’s that?”

  She took a deep breath and jumped. “I’m building a resort.” Ooh, that sounded nice. “As a matter of fact I just hired the architect.


  He nodded, gave a slight smile. “I saw his, um, blueprint.”

  Heat burned her cheeks. “You have no idea what you saw, David. But none of that concerns you.”

  “Everything about Ashley’s life concerns me.”

  She reared back as if he’d hit her. “Really? Is that a fact? Is that why you’ve been completely missing from her life even though I told you you could see her anytime?”

  “I understand you might be bitter, but I really hope that we’re all mature enough to co-exist, and maybe even forgive.”

  Could she forgive him? His choice to leave her had hurt Lacey, but his decision to stay away had hurt Ashley. And that was unforgivable to a mother.

  “I forgave you long ago,” she said brusquely, not wanting to get into it with him now or ever.

  He was looking around at the post-hurricane mess, his brows knit. “How on earth are you going to afford to build a resort, Lacey? Don’t you think you should start with something a little more modest?”

  Exactly the opposite of what Clay thought she should do. That gave her a boost of confidence. “Insurance. Investors. Loans.” She tilted her head up, smiling. Clay had done that for her, she thought fleetingly. In one morning, he’d given her confidence. “I have a plan.”

  “A plan, huh? Not always your strong suit.” He tempered the tease with a smile and leveled her with that magnificent green gaze that had melted the clothes right off her about forty-eight hours after he’d guest-lectured in one of her college classes.

  “I’ve changed,” she announced.

  “You have.” When his eyes crinkled she could see his lashes were still thick, and the tiny crow’s-feet just made him great looking instead of merely good looking. “And you look terrific, Lacey, considering what you’ve been through.”

  “Fourteen years of single parenthood?”

  “I meant the hurricane,” he said. “But I don’t imagine either one was easy.” There was an apology in there, she could sense it, and the tone brought her resentment down a notch.

  “Thanks, David. Fox. You look good, too.” He was thirty-nine now, a full ten years older than the man she’d been with all morning. Ten years and ten million miles apart, she mused. Clay Walker was light, bright, sexy, easy, sunny brilliance. David Fox was dark, threatening, difficult, a sliver of cloud-covered moon impossible to follow and even more impossible to hold.

 

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