Barefoot in the Sand (14 page)

“Fourteen years of single parenthood?”

“I meant the hurricane,” he said. “But I don’t imagine either one was easy.” There was an apology in there, she could sense it, and the tone brought her resentment down a notch.

“Thanks, David. Fox. You look good, too.” He was thirty-nine now, a full ten years older than the man she’d been with all morning. Ten years and ten million miles apart, she mused. Clay Walker was light, bright, sexy, easy, sunny brilliance. David Fox was dark, threatening, difficult, a sliver of cloud-covered moon impossible to follow and even more impossible to hold.

Reminding her that regardless of his latest career
move, David’s next trip to Timbuktu couldn’t be much farther than his next breath. That’s how he rolled. Away.

“Can I stay with you at your parents’ place?” he asked.

What
hadn’t
Ashley told him? She tried to think of a good, reasonable explanation for saying no, but none came. Except that she was kind of planning to have sex with her architect.

“Yes, of course you can. For a few…”
Minutes
. “Days. I’m very busy with my building proj—”

The scream from the beach made them both whip around, startled.

“Ashley! There’s a shark!”

“Oh my God!” Lacey leaped forward.

“
Helllllllllp!
”

All three women stood on the beach screaming at Ashley, who was frozen on the sandbar, the Gulf waters splashing at her thighs. She looked to her left, the horror on her face visible even this far away.

The fin popped up not twenty feet from her, between her and the beach.

Lacey ran, shells stabbing her feet, a scream caught in her throat. Before she’d even reached the girls David tore past her, his long legs eating up the sand, kicking it in his wake, his arms outstretched. Fully clothed, he bounded into the shallow waters, headed directly for Ashley, who kept screaming.

The four women followed, running toward the water, gasping and calling in horror.

The fin popped up again, directly between David and Ashley, making her wail.

“Don’t move, Ash!” David called to her, and she froze, staring at him now.

Once again the shark emerged and David lunged in the opposite direction, forcing the creature’s attention to focus on him, making it leap and turn toward him, the white teeth of a tiger bared for a horrifying split second.

“Run, Ashley!” David yelled before throwing himself in the water, drawing the shark farther away.

Ashley screamed again and followed the order, her skinny arms flailing as she stumbled through the waist-high water. Lacey ran toward her just as David made a loud noise and—dear God, had he punched the shark? Kicked it?

The fin disappeared, then popped up again, fifteen feet away and headed out into the Gulf.

Instantly David dove into the shallow water toward Ashley, popping up in front of her just as Lacey reached them both.

She threw her arms out to grab Ashley, but her daughter turned and fell into David’s embrace.

“Daddy!”

“Baby girl.” He kissed her head and hugged her like… like he actually cared about the child he’d demanded Lacey abort.

“Daddy, you saved my life.”

“No, sweetheart, you saved mine.”

Crumbling into the water, an adrenaline dump and cold reality bit Lacey harder than the rare tiger shark in the Gulf of Mexico ever could. Silhouetted in the sunshine, Ashley and David hugged like there was no tomorrow.

But there was, only now it included a man with the totally apt name of Fox.

A
fter dinner, Lacey could hear David and Ashley laughing in the living room, a bittersweet sound to a mother’s ears. She loved to hear Ashley happy, with a giggle that was quick, easy, and joyous. Despite the history, the absence, and a lot of unanswered questions, Ashley had just seamlessly accepted David into her life.

It was shocking, really, that she didn’t harbor more of a grudge. Was the loss of her home and all her stuff enough to make her realize what was important in life? At fourteen? If so, Lacey could learn a lot about maturity from her teenage daughter.

Then again, David had a gift. He wielded that irrepressible charm like a razor-sharp blade, slicing away anything that got in the way of people liking him. Somehow, when he teased Ashley he made the empty years disappear, and when he enthralled her with a colorful story
about diving with crocodiles in Botswana, Lacey could see her daughter’s eyes fill with awe and forgiveness.

Ashley could forgive David, so why couldn’t Lacey?

Because she didn’t have to. They had made an arrangement many years ago. David held no paternal rights to Ashley, and any gifts and money he gave her were out of concern and care. No strings attached. In return, Lacey had told him he could see Ashley whenever he wanted.

She just hadn’t thought he’d ever want to.

She pushed the faucet handle, making the water run louder into the sink, scrubbing the pan with vicious swipes, drowning out the sound of all that happiness in the living room.

Her hands itched to do something other than clean. She eyed her mother’s pantry, knowing it was stocked well enough now that she could knock out something simple for dessert. A cobbler, maybe. Or tropical napoleon, which she’d been testing before the storm. He’d be impressed with that.

She grunted softly and whipped the wet sponge. Why should she impress him?

Although he’d certainly impressed them with his cooking skills, making a remarkably good country-style chicken and not letting any of the girls lift a finger.

How could she not invite him to stay here, sending Tessa and Zoe to the Ritz to bunk with Jocelyn for a few days? Lord, she hoped it was a few days. Or less.

Yes, the invitation made sense; the house was too crowded and the decision to move everyone around to accommodate David had seemed smart when adrenaline was soaring and arms were hugging and rational thinking took a backseat to dramatic life-saving dives.

A few minutes ago, when she had a moment to say good-bye to the girls, Zoe had whispered, “Bet he planted the shark.”

Zoe meant it as a joke, but part of Lacey—the dark, nasty, resentful, unforgiving part—wondered exactly what David Fox was capable of doing just so he could redeem himself in his daughter’s eyes.

“We’re going over the causeway!” Ashley burst into the kitchen, practically vibrating with excitement. She hadn’t brushed her hair after swimming, so it was a wild mess, and she still wore the bikini Jocelyn had bought her, with a tiny pair of gym shorts rolled down nearly to her pelvic bone. She looked like a delicate flower, lithe, tan, reedy, and blown by the exciting winds of life. No, David Fox wasn’t a wind. He was a cat-five hurricane and, damn it, she’d already weathered one of those.

“Now?” Lacey asked.

“We have to get some games! Grandma doesn’t have any.”

Of course not; they never played games in this house. Unless you call “count Lacey’s faults” a game.

“Okay, you can take my car.” Because the alternative, the motorcycle David had arrived on, was not up for negotiation.

“Mom, we’re riding bikes.”

“You’re not going on his—”

“Bicycles.” David popped in behind Ashley, a glint in eyes that were so identical to his daughter’s that the sight took Lacey’s breath away. “Relax, Mama. Ashley says you have a couple of beach cruisers, and I saw a Wal-Mart right in Fort Myers. It’ll be no problem.”

“Over the causeway?” Yes, she sounded lame, but Lacey had never let Ashley ride that far, even if there was
a bike lane. “It’ll be dark before nine and the tires need air and—”

“It’s only six-thirty, Lace,” he said, putting a possessive hand on Ashley’s shoulder. “We’ll pump the tires at a gas station and I’ll take good care of her. I can’t believe she’s never ridden bikes over the causeway. That’s the first thing I’d do if I lived here.”

“No, you’d dive off it.”

He grinned, clearly delighted with the comment. “We’ll work up to that.”

Lacey glared at him. “Not funny.”

“Chill, Mama.”

She gritted her teeth to keep from demanding he stop calling her that.

“I already saved her once today,” he said.

Ashley turned to look up at him, adoration in her gaze. “He’s my hero.”

Oh, puh
lease
. “Can’t you just stay on the island tonight? Maybe take a drive over the causeway tomorrow? We have a deck of cards, that I’m sure of.”

“See, this is why we never made it, Lace.”

“Excuse me?” He was going there now? In front of Ashley?

“You’re so risk averse. You can’t live like that.”

“Actually, you can live longer like that.” She resisted the urge to snap the dish towel at him. Instead she dried the pot, maybe a little more furiously than necessary.

“And, sorry, but I’m a parent, David. With that title comes certain responsibilities. Like keeping your child safe.”

“Mom! He freaking tore into a shark with his bare hands to save me today.”

“Not exactly.”

“Exactly!” Ashley stood next to David, metaphorically and literally aligning herself with him. “And I totally trust him and, seriously, like everyone I know rides bikes over the causeway, so we’re going. Let’s go, Fox.”

“You can call me Dad.”

Cripes, pick a name already. And not
Dad
.

“Dad.” Ashley couldn’t keep the smile out of her voice. “We’ll be back before it gets dark, Mom.”

“Wait a sec, Ash.” David stepped closer, taking the towel from Lacey’s hands. “I’d be happy to forgo a bike ride if you’d come with us.”

She swallowed hard. “I’m going to bake you guys something. A surprise.”

He nodded knowingly. “So you still head to the flour and sugar when you’re strung out, huh?”

“I’m not—”

“Mom, he so knows you!” Ashley exclaimed, delighted. “Mom always stress bakes. It’s awesome.” She stopped, realizing what she said. “I mean, not that you’re stressed, just that we get to eat your amazing cakes and stuff.”

“It relaxes her,” David said knowingly, that insider info just irritating Lacey more. “Then I’m ordering something light and delicious. Oh, Lace, remember that French apple tart you made once at my apartment?” He slapped his hand to his chest. “Mother of God, I think that’s when I knew I loved you.”

She just stared at him, numbed by the comment. “I lost my tart pan in the storm,” she said softly. “How about meringue cookies?”

“Perfect.” For a minute she thought he was going to kiss her good-bye. And it seemed so natural. But he didn’t,
instead backing away and gesturing to Ashley. “Let’s go, kiddo.”

They were out the door before Lacey could think of any reason to make them stay, any reason that wouldn’t make her sound like a petulant child or a big old jealous meanie.

Anything like
Ashley, he’s going to leave and break your heart again. That’s what he does, baby
.

She walked to the door, watching them round the yard toward the garage.

“Ashley!” Lacey called, and even as she did she couldn’t think of a thing to say. She had no parting shot, no special warning. She just had to see her daughter’s face.

“What?” But Ashley didn’t turn.

I love you
. “Do you have your phone?”

“Don’t need it.”

Since when could she not be tethered to that damn phone? Since David-Fox-Dad showed up.

And they disappeared, with more happy laughter in their wake.

Back in the kitchen, she headed to the oven to flip the dial and preheat just as her cell phone rang. And she remembered Clay.

She stood stone still, long enough to debate what to say to him. And long enough to let the call go to voice mail, the technology most adored by chickens.

Of course David’s appearance shouldn’t and wouldn’t change a thing as far as Clay, but it was a wrinkle she didn’t know how to smooth out yet.

Clay would think she’d made up an excuse. But she certainly couldn’t slip out on a “date” tonight to watch
Casablanca
at his apartment. Instead, she listened to his message, enjoying the tenor of his voice as he promised to call later if
he didn’t hear from her. Maybe she’d answer that call, but she wasn’t seeing him tonight.