Page 19 of Second Dance
“We both have raised children that weren’t ours,” Alex said softly. “Weird, isn’t it?”
“A little, yes.” The candlelight caught the warmth in his dark eyes, and for a moment I was nineteen again, dizzy with the newness of him.
“The only reason you were on the dating app was because Grace put you on there?” He was still leaning in, his voice lower now.
“That’s right.”
“She did a good job pretending to be you.”
“A little too good.” I tried for lightness, but my pulse quickened when I saw the hint of a smile playing at his lips.
“I thought you’d be married.” He took a sip of his wine, watching me over the rim, and the directness of his stare made my stomach flip.
“I haven’t even gotten close.”
“Again, I’m surprised.” His tone suggested he wasn’t just making conversation.
I swallowed, suddenly aware of how small the table felt between us. “It’s not really been a priority. Grace and my work have kept me busy. Being a single mom makes it hard to date. I have to keep Grace’s needs forefront.”
“I can understand that. If it hadn’t been for my wife, I’d not have been able to work as much as I did.”
A small silence fell between us. So much unsaid. So much to say. Yet words wouldn’t come. I reached for my wine glass to have something to do with my hands.
“Tell me more about your company,” I said, hoping for safer ground than talking about his dead wife.
He described the evolution from idea to product, inspired by his sister’s death. As he talked, I found myself mesmerized by the passion that animated his features—the same intensity he’d had at twenty-two, but tempered now with experience and loss. “What started out as two of us in a basement office eventually sold for a lot of money.”
“But it wasn’t the money that motivated you, was it?” I knew the answer before I asked. I’d always known what drove him.
“No, it never was. I’m grateful for my good fortune, but that’s not ever been my ‘why.’”
“What made you decide to sell the company?”
His expression shifted, grew more serious. “After my wife got sick, it changed my perspective on things. I took a sabbatical to take care of her, and during that time an offer came in. I decided to take it, knowing Mattie wasn’t going to get better. The kids needed me home, not traveling all the time or working long hours.”
The grief in his voice was subtle but unmistakable. Without thinking, I reached across the table. My fingers stopped just short of his hand, hovering uncertainly before I pulled them back. The almost-touch hung in the air between us, heavy and moist like air before a thunderstorm.
“How did you find your way to Willet Cove?” I asked quietly.
“It’s strange, actually.” He ran a hand through his hair—a gesture I remembered from a lifetime ago. “My wife suggested I move the kids to a beach town. This was when we both knew she wasn’t going to live much longer. She suggested Willet Cove specifically.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “A few days after herfuneral, I drove the kids up here from San Francisco, where we lived, and rented a few rooms at the inn. It was just what we needed. By the end of our time here, all three of us were in love with the town and the whole vibe. So I put our house in San Francisco on the market, bought a piece of property here that was already zoned for a house. A year later, we moved in. This is our first summer here.”
“It’s strange we haven’t run into each other.”
“Not when you consider how I kind of hid out for the first eight months we lived here. Peter talked me into volunteering as an assistant coach on his baseball team just to get me out of the house.”
“I’m glad he did.” The words came out softer than I intended, and, from the way his eyes darkened, he heard what I wasn’t saying.
Hunter arrived with our hummus plate, breaking the spell.
“No entourage tonight?” Hunter asked me.
“Not tonight, no.” I was grateful for the interruption, for a chance to catch my breath.
“I thought you ladies ran in a pack,” Hunter said.
“We usually do.”
“Good idea in this crazy world,” Hunter said. “Friends who have your back are hard to find.”
