Page 4 of Between the Lines

“To make us an offer—” another glance at Don “—and to explain what their plans are for the site, yes.”

Luca chewed his lip. If Jude hadn’t signed anything yet then maybe he could talk her out of it, show her what a mistake she was making. He glanced at Don’s uneasy expression and knew he was right: Jude hadn’t decided, something was holding her back. And Luca had a feeling that something was him—which meant there was still a chance to change her mind.

“Okay,” he said, keeping it casual. “I’ll meet with the guy, see what he’s offering. But I warn you, Mom, I doubt anyone called ‘Theodore Wishart’ is gonna change my mind. About anything.”

Chapter Two

Over the years, Theo had learned to arrive early for meetings. It involved meticulous planning and several reminders on his phone, but it was worth the effort; clients like Judy Brennan appreciated punctuality. As his father often remarked, rushing in late made Theo look like aright bloody pillock.

And Theo hated looking stupid.

Which was why he was currently sitting on the boardwalk in New Milton with his head in his hands, his humiliating collision outside the coffee shop playing on a continual loop inside his head.

Why did this always happen to him? Why?

The man had appeared out of nowhere, broad-shouldered and long-limbed, and Theo had just...frozen. With his tousled hair glinting gold in the sunlight, silver-gray eyes bright against his sun-bronzed face, he might have been plucked from Theo’s imagination. He was simply perfect. The sort of beautiful, athletic demigod Theo had wasted years of his life worshiping. And the sort of man he’d learned to avoid like herpes.

Typical, then, that they’d found themselves engaged in an embarrassing little dance, trying to step around each other on the crowded sidewalk. Getting desperate, Theo had decided to just shoulder past, but, naturally, he’d misjudged his trajectory and ended up walking smack into the guy. Of course he had. He could still feel the flare of soft heat as they’d collided, the scratch of the stranger’s stubble against his lips.

Bollocks.

A light breeze drifted in off the ocean, cool against his skin, riffling its fingers through his hair. Not enough to disturb it, but enough to make him sit up and take a deep breath. He tried to relax, to shake off the encounter. It didn’t matter. He’d never see the guy again, so who cared if he’d made a fool of himself? Nobody. Nobody would even know.

You know.

Irritably, he shut down the thought and fixed his attention on the vista spread out before him instead. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been to the beach. Generally speaking, he avoided the great outdoors at all costs; it was uncomfortable, exhausting, and—in his experience—often harmful. But right then, sitting there with the breeze in his hair and the sun on his face, he understood why people loved the ocean. And felt a twinge of regret it was a pleasure denied him.

The beach was certainly busy. Families sprawled on sun loungers or towels, sand castles stood in various stages of construction or demolition, and a laughing game of volleyball rattled away up near the dunes. The water teemed with children and their parents, splashing about in the few small waves close to shore. There were no breakers today, the ocean still as a pond, but further out he could see two guys standing on their surfboards, paddling themselves along with long oars. Amazing. He couldn’t begin to imagine having the balance required to do something like that, but he could admire the lithe male bodies outlined by the gleam of their wetsuits in the sun.

A familiar heat stirred his blood, followed by a surge of yearning that expanded in his chest and then deflated like a popped balloon. Not for him, such beautiful boys. People were difficult, that was the problem. They were confusing and he didn’t have the knack for connecting with them. He couldn’t make himself understood and he couldn’t understand them in return. Sometimes he imagined a glass wall stood between himself and other people—he could see them well enough, he just couldn’t break through. He’d tried, but after Grant Daly... Well, there came a time when you had to admit defeat. Not everyone could stand on a surfboard, and not everyone could find love. Good fortune like that was simply the luck of the draw.

Besides, there were other joys in life. Things he wasgoodat, like running projects, finding investors, making hotels thrive. Things that could earn him the respect of his peers and even of his father. He just needed to stop wishing for—

His phone alarm beeped, startling him, and he lurched to his feet, slamming his thigh into the arm of the bench. “Fuck!” The pain shocked tears into his eyes.

Embarrassed, he looked around in case anyone had noticed, but nobody was watching. Swearing under his breath, he limped back to the sidewalk and took a moment to pull himself together. The alarm meant half an hour until the meeting. Everything was fine, he had plenty of time. No harm done. Glancing down at his leg, he grimaced at the dirty smudge on his chinos—it matched the coffee stain on the other leg from his run-in with the bronzed demigod. Damn it. He rubbed at the smudge, feeling a bruise coming up underneath. Well, it didn’t matter. No one would care. Judy Brennan was an older woman, perhaps her eyesight wouldn’t be good enough to notice the marks? He ran a hand over his hair, making sure it was still in place despite the breeze—it had a tendency to chaos that he struggled to control—but it felt fine. He looked fine. Hewasfine.

He wished he’d stayed in the sodding car and waited.

“Hey, boss, there you are.” He turned in relief to find his assistant, Miranda Hope, heading toward him, long legs loping along the boardwalk. Her red Doc Martens and eyebrow ring made Miranda an unusual fit for Lux Properties, but Theo liked her; she made his life easier without making a fuss. She was also the only person at Lux—or anywhere else—he considered a friend. “Time to head up to the hotel,” she said.

He waved his phone at her. “Yes, I know.”

But she frowned as they walked back to the car together, head cocked. “What are you doing down here, anyway? I thought you were getting coffee.”

“Yeah I...got distracted.”

She lifted her pierced eyebrow. “By the cute guy you ran into?”

Theo winced. “You noticed that?”

“Dude, the guy was superhot. Of course I noticed.”

“No, I mean—” His face heated. “Me bumping into him, like an idiot.”

She waved the incident off with a flick of her fingers. “Shit happens. And a guy like that? I bet people run into him all day long, just for kicks.” She grinned. “Was he cute up close?”

Theo stared at his feet, watched them pace along the cracked sidewalk. “He was pissed off, I’m afraid.”

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