Page 5 of Whispers at Seaside
Okay, maybe that was just lust turning her brain to mush.
“The dating pool on Cape Cod leaves a lot to be desired.”
He scoffed and looked around the beach at groups of twentysomethings playing guitars, singing, and talking. “There are plenty of good-looking guys around here.”
“Good-looking doesn’t equate to worthy of dating.” Hagen’s father—the lying, cheating jerk—had taught her that men were even less reliable than the weather. She wasn’t about to go the relationship route and chance Hagen—or her—getting let down again. She took another drink of water, hoping Matt would drop the subject, but his arched brow silently urged her to continue.
“Okay, fine.” She rolled her eyes. So much for keeping her thoughts to herself. “Before I had Hagen Imighthave dreamed of finding Mr. Right. Being romanced with French restaurants and poetic gestures. All the immature fantasies girls are brought up to have.” She shook her head and laughed softly, remembering how real and attainable that felt at one time.
“But that all changed when real life set in. A baby, sleepless nights, juggling schedules, dealing with colic, and…It doesn’t matter why. Dating takes time and energy, and I don’t have much of either left at the end of most days. I’m also a package deal. And more importantly, guys want attention, and I’ve never met a man who was worth diverting any of my attention away from Hagen.” That was a tiny white lie. When she was with Matt she never felt like she needed to divide her attention between him and Hagen. The three of them blended together seamlessly. But there was a world of difference between spending a few hours with each other and a lifetime of togetherness.
“I guess that makes sense. I haven’t been dating either.” He paused, as if he wanted that to sink in, which it did, only to make her worry she was reading too much into it. “Tell me about your bucket list.”
Glad for the change in subject, she said, “Only if you’ll tell me yours.”
She picked up a strawberry, and he wrapped his fingers around her wrist and held it still as he bit into the sweet treat, his eyes searing into hers. He licked his lips and took the stem from her hand, setting it in the box without ever breaking their connection. Silence had never felt so alive. Her mind traveled to those dark places she was trying to ignore.Maybe we could be friends with benefits for just one night?
“My bucket list in general?” he asked. “Or my one-night-of-freedom bucket list?”
What was she thinking?Her boss’s son? No. No benefits!She needed the real benefits of having a job more than she needed sex with this gorgeous, fun, flirty creature.
“One night of freedom,” she said quickly.
“That’s a loaded question,” he said in a low voice. “With dangerous answers. Let me think on it while you tell me yours.”
Maybe the chocolate was laced with an aphrodisiac.
He glanced over her shoulder at a group of people by the pier playing guitars, breaking their connection. She inhaled a deep breath to rein in her out-of-control hormones.
“Okay, but you’ll probably be disappointed. On mymombucket list is making sure Hagen has a secure and happy future, which means eventually sitting for the CPA exam so I can make more money. Not that I want to leave your father’s hardware store. You know I lost my dad when I was twelve, and your dad has become like family. He’s really good to me, allowing me to work around Hagen’s schedule and making other accommodations that I know would be impossible to find elsewhere. He’s a good man, even if he is too stubborn to admit that the business is threatened by big businesses offering lower prices.” She waved a dismissive hand. “Anyway, that’s about it. I’ve got a great cottage at my brothers’ resort, and a job I love. Right now my life is all about bringing up Hagen.”
He settled his hand over hers with a serious expression. “That’s a respectable mommy list. Now tell me about the list you apparentlydon’thave. Your fantasy list.”
You mean the one you’re the star of?
“We have all night to do whatever you want, sunshine. What do you want to do?”
You, nearly slipped out. She cleared her throat and said the only other thing she could think of. “A ghost tour.”
He laughed.
“Seriously.”If I can’t have my real fantasy, I might as well have my top nonsexual fantasy.“That’s something I can’t do with Hagen, and I have always wanted to go on one. Now it’s your turn. What’s on yours?”And answer fast before some embarrassing confession slips from my lips.
His eyes heated again. “This is it.”
“Getting a sugar high in P-town? That’s not much of a list.”
“I disagree. Spending an evening alone with you is a very fine start to my list.”
Oh my.Her heart fluttered at his words, his touch, and the tender look in his eyes.Tender.Notrip my clothes off and take me for a night, butI want to kiss you until you can’t see straighttender. Yeah, that look, and boy did she ever want that kiss.
“Professor Lacroux, that was a very smooth line.”
“It wasn’t a line, and for the next three months I’m not a professor. I’m on sabbatical. Remember the article I wrote for theNew York Timesthat went viral?”
It wasn’t a line? You’re here on sabbatical?“H-hard to forget. You were like a local hero.” Her voice came out soft and shaky. She remembered the throngs of customers coming in to the store to congratulate his father more than she remembered the article itself, but she knew it was a very big deal.
“A hero? So ridiculous. Anyway, I’ve been wanting to do more than teach for a long time. There’s so much administrative red tape, and between research papers, teaching, and applying for grants, I was losing my mind. When that article came out, I had two unfinished goals. Making dean of the School of Social Sciences would be the brass ring, the pinnacle of my career—and it’s never going to happen, since the man who holds that position said they’ll have to carry him out in a wooden box. And publishing a book. A substantial book deal came through as a result of the article. And as for the dean position”—he shrugged—“I guess some dreams aren’t meant to be achieved. Or maybe we’re simply meant to make tough choices. Anyway, I chose door number two. The book deal, reconnecting with family, and…”
