Barefoot by the Sea (35 page)

“Why?”

He didn’t answer right away, closing the space and slowly dropping down next to her. “I thought you found your special shell today.”

“I threw it in the water.”

He drew back. “Why?”

“Because I’m dumb. And now I’m trying to find it again, since the tide’s come and gone.”

“Why did you throw it in the water, Tess?”

“Because it…” She swiped her eyes and pushed her hair back, revealing her whole face in the ambient beam of the flashlight. “You want the truth?”

He laughed softly. “Honey, from this moment on, the truth is all we want. Can we make that one promise? Nothing but the truth, on any subject, with no wavering. Deal?”

She nodded. “I threw it away because it was a lie.”

He frowned, shaking his head. “How can a shell be a lie?”

“The dream it represented,” she said. “The fantasy, the possibility, the stupid game I’d played all these months telling myself if I found the right shell, then everything I’ve ever wanted would fall into my arms and I would be happy forever and ever, amen.” She gave a bitter laugh. “I was holding on to a lie.”

“So, why are you out here looking for it now?”

“’Cause I still want to find one, but now I want it for the right reasons.”

“To get your picture in the paper?”

She smiled. “You really do listen to me.”

“Every word.” He reached his hand to hers, but she gave him a wary look, and then put the flashlight in his open palm. “What are the right reasons?”

“Because…it’s rare. It’s special. It’s like…love.”

“And that doesn’t represent your dreams anymore, Tess?” He could barely stand to ask the question, because if he’d stolen that hope from her, he’d never forgive himself.

She pushed up and shook sand from the gauzy dress. “In case I’m wrong and it does represent dreams.”

“So you still have hope.”

“Eternally. Flash the light on that ridge, please.”

He did, watching her for a moment, then saw the tide-driven crest of about a zillion shells. “How can you find anything in all those broken shells?”

“Takes a keen eye,” she told him.

They walked for a while in silence, stopping now and again when she saw something that caught her eye. Finally, he asked, “Why were you crying?”

“Frustration. Confusion. Longing.”

He knew them all so well. “About this situation?” he asked, even though he knew the answer.

She paused from her searching, clearly struggling with an answer. “Not exactly.”

No? “Hey.” He tipped her chin and forced her face toward his. “We made a deal about the truth.”

“Speak in your regular accent,” she answered softly.

The request threw him. “Excuse me?”

“In English.”

“You mean British.”

“Whatever. I want to hear it.”

“I’m so trained not to, I don’t think I can.”

She wasn’t buying it, narrowing her eyes at him. “You didn’t have any problem when you were talking to Henry.”

“Okay.” He glanced around as if someone might be lurking in the shadows or surf. “What do you want me to say?” He still didn’t break into British.

“My name.”

He nodded. “Tessa Galloway.”

“Sounds almost the same.” She seemed disappointed.

He took a slow breath. “Don’t be sad, pretty Tessa.” He infused the words with the clipped sound of his native accent, reaching to slide his hand around her neck and into her hair. “I will never, ever lie to you again.”

“Nevah, evah?” she repeated with a slow smile.

“Nevah.” He exaggerated the sound, then his own smile faltered as he looked at her. “Oh, Tess.” He closed his eyes and pulled her closer. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

She relaxed a little, letting their bodies touch in a move that felt orchestrated by mother nature. Like they belonged together. “I know you are.”

“Do you?” he asked. “Do you know how very sorry I am? How much I care about you? God,
I
didn’t even know how much I cared about you.”

“Mmm.” She wrapped an arm around his waist and laid her head against his shoulder. “I like that.”

“How much I care about you?”

“No, that sexy accent.”

He chuckled into her hair. “Then I’ll whisper it in your ear all night.” Tipping her face up, he kissed her forehead, her nose, then brushed her lips. “Do you forgive me, Tessa?”

“God, no. But you can keep talking like that and you have a chance.”

Warmed by the humor, he clicked off the flashlight and let the dark descend over them. “Let’s walk in the water,” he said, guiding her to the surf. “Unless you don’t want your dress to get wet.”

“I don’t care. It’s made for the beach.”

Like her, he was barefoot, and he doubted they’d go in deep enough to get his cargo shorts wet. Arm in arm, they walked toward the swells and foam of low tide, the sand cool between Ian’s toes, the first knots of his restlessness starting to untangle in his gut.

“I talked to Henry,” he finally said.

“And?”

“He’s pissed but not much he can do. I assured him you were trustworthy and he seemed satisfied enough when I told him…” He hesitated as they reached the water, letting the first splash of cold chill his nerves about how to phrase the rest of his sentence. “You’d agreed to sign the paperwork.”

She didn’t answer immediately, using one hand to lift her dress from the next wave. “Sounds so romantic when you put it that way.”

“I guess because it’s not romantic.” But it could be. If only…

“I know, you’re right. I’m still not sure how I’m going to handle things.”

“
Things.
” He dragged the word out. “We’re not lying anymore, Tessa, so—”

“
I
never lied,” she shot back, almost slipping out of his arm, but he held on too tight. “And I’m not lying or using euphemisms now.” She stopped fighting his hold and pressed against his side again. “There are a lot of things to consider. Like…” She swallowed and looked up at him. “What happens when you leave?”

Nothing. Everything. The end. “I can’t contact you after that. We’ll have to work out something to tell people.”

She considered that. “If you mean my friends and all the people who work here, there’s nothing to tell. They think I’m doing a pretend ceremony for the benefit of the wedding planners. Mayor Lennox doesn’t know that; we’ll get a real marriage license to sign and then you’ll take it…” She blew out a breath and shook her head. “Where will you be?”

“I don’t know. And you can’t either…”
Unless you come with me.
He tamped down the plea. “It might be embarrassing with your friends, Tessa, if I disappear.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell them the truth.”

He slowed his step and turned her to face him. “I’m not. I’m worried about how you’ll feel.”

“How I’ll feel?” She looked up at him, the cloud-covered moonlight casting a soft blue glow on her face. “I’ll feel like a woman who did the right thing. I’ll feel like a hero, a volunteer, a savior of one little family.”

His heart swelled. “And I’ll never forget that.”

She put her fingers on his lips to quiet him. “I’ll also feel…” Her throat hitched and caught. “Like I had that damn shell in the palm of my hand and threw it away.”

“Oh, Tess.” He yanked her into him, hope swamping him. “You don’t have to throw it away.”

She inched back, a moment’s hesitation and even a glimmer of light in her eyes. Then it disappeared and she shook her head quickly. “I can’t, John. I can’t.”

Of course she couldn’t, and he had no bloody right to ask. “It’s a hard life,” he agreed. “Lonely and scary and not normal in the least.”

Misty-eyed, she nodded.

He stroked her hair, cupping her cheek. “You have no idea how much I would like to offer you something else.”

“There isn’t anything else, is there?”

“I’m afraid not.”

She closed her eyes, but it didn’t hide the hurt.

“You don’t want to live that way,” Ian said, mustering a truth he didn’t want to say. Then he couldn’t stop himself from adding, “Do you?”

For a long, long moment, she stood still and silent. In that time, the gnawing and angst in his gut dissolved completely, transforming into—hope.

Then she dropped her head against him. “How can I?”

Easily. Happily. In his arms and in his life forever. “You can’t,” he said. “I could never ask you to.” Except that in his heart, he had asked a hundred times. And every time, the answer was the same.

She looked up at him. “We have a little time left.”

“A week or two. How do you want to spend it?”

She smiled slowly. “Naked.”

“That can be arranged.”

“With you speaking in an accent.”

“Quite feasible,” he said with a pronounced British clip.

“And when we’re alone and you’re…inside me?”

He waited, not breathing, knowing what she wanted. With each passing second, he was more certain. She wanted a baby. And, good Lord, he would give her that.

“Tessa,” he finally said. “I can’t stand to have another child in the world that I don’t know. But if you really—”

She silenced him again with her hand. “I don’t want a baby, Ian.”

“Now, I know that’s a lie.”

“I don’t. That’s what I realized with the shell. I thought a baby would solve everything, but that’s not what I want at all.”

“Then what do you want?” he asked.

She smiled and let out the softest sigh. “The same thing you do…a family.”

His jaw loosened. “Then—”

Shaking her head, she put her fingers over his lips. “I can’t do that. I can’t live a lie or in secret. But I do want one other thing from you.”

“Anything.”

“When we’re alone, in bed, in…each other, I need to call you by your real name.”

He exhaled softly, unable even to think of the stupid amount of happiness that gave him. Instead, he kissed her pretty mouth and fell a little deeper in love with a woman he could have, but never keep.

She couldn’t avoid them forever. After several days and nights of lame excuses, Tessa finally accepted the invitation to meet her best friends for a quick drink at the Toasted Pelican. She arrived on her own, a little late, and headed straight to their favorite booth in the back.

The three of them were already deep in conversation with drinks, though only Jocelyn had anything with kick in it. The tension of their first real long talk had Tessa’s stomach in a knot of nausea. She couldn’t slip, not one little bit, not one word, not one hint.

Even though every night since she’d known the truth about Ian—John,
John
—she’d been wrapped in his arms, in his bed, in his real world as he’d opened up and shared everything. Each tidbit was a gold mine of discovery—he’d gone to Cambridge!—tarnished by the fact that she could never share this with her three closest friends. Every kiss, every night, and every morning she felt closer to him, all overshadowed by the fact that in a short amount of time he’d not only disappear from sight, but his very existence would be wiped away.

But she knew enough about how that man felt about his children to accept that fate.

“Well, look who crawled out of the sack for some girl time.” Zoe slid over and made room for her. “We were just talking about you.”

“Don’t you have anything better to do than gossip about my love life?”

“Actually we were talking about your wedding,” Lacey corrected. “And wondering if maybe we’ll be having a real one sometime soon?”

Yeah, they would. In a few days, as a matter of fact. “Not likely,” she said, looking around for a waitress.

“I don’t know,” Jocelyn said playfully. “I saw you two kissing good-bye the other afternoon outside the restaurant.”

“And you didn’t answer the door when I knocked this morning at seven-thirty,” Zoe said.

A good defense was her only offense. “Since when have you ever been up at seven-thirty in your life?” she demanded.

“I had a sunrise balloon ride to see off,” Zoe said. “And since I can’t go up until Junior is born, I had nothing to do and you were the only human I know guaranteed to be awake. Alas, no answer. I didn’t knock on John’s door.”

At seven-thirty? They’d been awake. Wide awake and making love. “I was in the garden.” Might as well start the lies now, even though that made her belly flutter. “Is there a waitress around? I need a drink.”

“She’ll be here,” Jocelyn assured her. “And you don’t have to lie, sweetie.”

As a matter of fact, she did.

“We’ve all been there,” Lacey said, a tad patronizing. “The first few weeks are the best.”

Zoe gave a loud tsk. “Speak for yourself, Lace. Oliver and I still have the glow and I’m knocked up.”

Tessa looked up to the ceiling. “Give me strength. And a drink.”

“All right, we’ll lay off.” Jocelyn turned a legal pad around so Tessa could read the twenty-seven line items on a classic Jocelyn Bloom To-Do list. “We have work to do.”

Thank God. “I don’t see any check marks or cross-offs, Joss.”

“Let’s get on that, then.”

Tessa agreed, grateful to read the list and follow the conversation to ideas for how to entertain the VIPs with spa treatments, balloon rides, and every luxury amenity they could dream up.

But all she could think about was Ian. The depth of his kiss this morning. The laughter in the shower together. The tender way he—

“You’ll need some kind of father-daughter moment.”

Tessa yanked herself back to the table. “What?”

“I went over the checklist on the AABC site,” Jocelyn said, pointing at item number nine on the list. “You know, to be sure we cover everything these consultants want to see in a destination wedding. Apparently, the father-daughter dance is huge to them.”

She felt the color rise and almost pumped a fist in relief when she saw the waitress and waved her over.