Page 4 of Her Christmas Wish
He’d wanted her in his life so badly, he’d held on to the possibility until the very last minute...
That last moment had come and gone. Long ago.
Parking in the slot next to Scott’s snazzy red sports car, Gray grabbed his two bags from the trunk and rolled them up to the cottage’s back door.
He’d worked too hard for too long to give up on the life he’d built. The life he’d always wanted. And if hanging on—while he figured out how to rise up out of the ashes in the most expedient and cost-efficient way—meant he had to share a private drive with Sage Martin, then that was what he’d do.
He’d already faced the hardest challenge of his life.
With great success.
He’d moved on without her.
And somewhere along the way, he’d gotten over her, too.
Chapter Two
Finding Scott’s place empty, Gray took a second to look around, and then moved his stuff into the clearly unoccupied bedroom before texting Scott to let him know he’d arrived.
He’d stopped for a case of beer on his way, and helped himself to one as he headed out the back door to the porch Scott had had built, separating the cottage from the sand, to get a long, healthy breath of ocean air.
The balmy, seventy-degree October air did not disappoint. If not for the dress attire he still wore, he’d have headed straight down to the water.
Better, anyway, that he wait to find out which cottage down the way belonged to Sage before venturing out.
Scott had assured him, during his initial sales pitch, that the cottages were all far enough apart to provide good privacy. They would have been since they’d been built to house the rich and famous in a more private setting than the resort’s hotel could offer. His friend hadn’t embellished that point a bit. Looking to both sides, he took in beach as far as he could see. Saw some people, but could make out only the most basic features.
Far enough away to give him back a small sense of personal space. Of freedom from hell.
A collie caught his attention to the right. She had a straight stance and kept perfect pace at the heel of the man who was heading down to the water. Gray watched as the two reached wet sand together. And then the girl was running and diving into a wave, as though she’d been born a dolphin. He watched, amazed, grinning.
And nodded when man and collie came out of the water together, to do it all over again.
With one hand in his pocket, he raised his full bottle to his mouth. Took a long sip. Scott had been right. Ocean Breeze was going to be good for him.
His text app pinged. Scott. Saying he was talking to Iris and would be right up.
Iris.A woman Gray was eager to meet. The gorgeous, platonic friend of the playfully womanizing confirmed bachelor Scott had become.
Gray had waited for months for Scott to admit he’d slept with the woman. But after three years of Scott and Iris beingjust friends, Gray was finally convinced his friend had no sexual interest in the woman, an anomaly given his flirtatious nature. Scott appreciated the female form even more than Gray did, if such a feat was possible.
Texting back, he told his friend to take his time. Thought about sitting back in one of the redwood porch chairs, but changed his mind. Standing tall, taking in long breaths of salty air, felt good. More right than anything had in too many months.
He noticed people come and go from various cottages, more like stick figures in the distance. He didn’t let himself wonder if any of them were Sage. Didn’t try to pick out her petite perfect form, or her long, wavy blond hair. Had no way of knowing if she was still as spritely as she’d been when he’d known her.
He saw Scott, though, coming up the beach. The man’s six-foot-three-inch height gave him away to Gray.
And was part of the reason the prosecutor, no matter how hard he tried, was likely never going to be a proficient surfer.
A woman walked with him. Not Sage. Inches taller than Sage. She’d once told him that her brother’s towering over her by a foot was a result of selective fetal growth restriction. Scott’s placenta had “hogged the womb,” she’d said with a grin.
Gray had had a womb all to himself, but at five-eleven he’d still ended up several inches shorter than his friend.
Two dogs ran up behind the pair. A miniature collie and Morgan, Scott’s corgi—Gray’s patient since her birth.
The miniature collie...would make the taller woman Iris. Gray nodded. Thought about going for a couple of beers, to have them ready when the two approached.
He turned, ready to do just that, when a little person came darting out across the sand—he assumed from one of the cottages.
