Sea Glass Island (9 page)

But then, more often than not, she’d gone home to an empty bed, or, if not empty, then one occupied by a man who’d been important, but not her destiny. Never her destiny the way Boone had been Emily’s or Wade had been Gabi’s. At least, she’d been wise enough to understand that there was a difference.

“I think I’m jealous,” she said, embarrassed by the admission.

“Of me?”

“You and Emily both. You have it all. You have careers you love, especially now that Emily’s working on those safe houses for victims of domestic violence and you have the artist’s studio here that you and Wade created together. You have men you adore and who love you just as deeply. And you...” She smiled. “You have Daniella Jane, this perfect little baby.”

“You can have all that, too, if it’s what you decide you want,” Gabi said fiercely. “Samantha, there’s nothing to stop you from making whatever changes you want to make professionally. As for the man of your dreams, you just have to open your heart. I think you’ve kept too many men at arm’s length because you weren’t ready or you knew they weren’t the right ones. Is it because of Ethan you’re thinking like this?”

“He’s part of it. He’s this solid, stable guy who knows exactly who he is. Those traits aren’t exactly commonplace among the actors I’ve met.”

“But you’ve dated men who weren’t actors. Some were pretty high-ranking businessmen, as I recall.”

“They were just as absorbed with ambition, though, as the actors. Maybe that’s one of the things I admire in Ethan. He gave up the fast track in surgery and is thoroughly at peace with the decision. That says a lot about who he is.” She allowed herself a smile. “Maybe I just want to
be
Ethan.”

“Content with a slower pace?” Gabi suggested. “You can do that. I’m here to testify it can be a very rewarding transformation. This has been a huge change for me.”

“It has been, hasn’t it?” Samantha said. “No regrets?”

“Not a one,” Gabi said. “It’s not always easy, though. I still find myself compulsively addicted to work from time to time, but then Dani cries or Wade pokes his head into my office and my priorities immediately shift. I get that much-needed sense of balance back.”

“Balance,” Samantha echoed. “That’s it! That’s what I want.”

Gabi leveled a look at her. “Do you want it here?”

Samantha knew what her sister was really asking, that she wanted to know if Samantha was ready to let go of one dream in exchange for another that was even less certain.

“I don’t know,” she replied quietly.

“Well, until you do, I’ll say what I said earlier, be careful with Ethan.”

“Not a problem,” Samantha said. “I don’t think he’s going to allow anything else.”

* * *

Ethan was feeling surprisingly edgy as he left the clinic. Normally after a busy day, he went home feeling a sense of fulfillment. He was ready for a good meal, maybe a glass of wine and a game of some kind on TV. Though the baseball season was down to the wire and the Braves weren’t in the pennant race, he still loved to watch.

Tonight, though, none of that held any appeal, which was one reason he’d stayed late at the clinic. When his cell phone rang, he answered eagerly.

“Why are the lights still on at the clinic?” Greg asked. “Please tell me you’re not still working.”

“On my way out now,” he told him. “And how do you know the lights are on?”

“I’m taking the kids for ice cream to get them out of Lindsey’s hair for an hour. Want to meet us?” He named the ice cream parlor the locals frequented only a mile or so from the clinic. “We’re pulling into the lot now.”

“Sure,” Ethan said impulsively. At least it would drive Samantha out of his head for a little while. Greg’s kids always seemed to cheer him up...and leave him more than a little envious.

“Good. Maybe you can corral them. They listen to their uncle Ethan a whole lot better than they listen to me.”

Ethan smiled at the frustration he heard in Greg’s voice. “You’re a doctor. Hasn’t it occurred to you that if they’re out of control, feeding them ice cream at this hour might not be wise?”

“I’m desperate,” Greg admitted. “And I was not up for a round of miniature golf, which seemed to be the preferred alternative. See you in a few.”

“On my way,” Ethan said.

Five minutes later, he walked into the ice cream shop and immediately spotted Greg and his kids. To his dismay, Gabi and Samantha Castle were setting their purses on the same table and heading to the counter to order. He regarded his friend suspiciously.

“Scheming?” he inquired in an undertone.

Greg gave him an innocent look he didn’t entirely trust.

“They just walked in the door,” Greg swore to him. “I told them you were on the way and asked them to join us. Seemed like the polite thing to do. Are you going to run off?”

“Of course not,” Ethan said, though that was precisely what he wanted to do...or what he thought he
ought
to do. “I’d better go up and order.”

He stepped into line behind Samantha and Gabi. “This is a surprise,” he said.

“We’re having a girls’ night out,” Gabi said cheerfully. “We’ve been pampered and buffed and fed. I’ve bought out most of the clothes at my favorite boutique and now we’re having dessert.”

“And did you shop, too?” he asked Samantha.

“She didn’t buy a single thing,” Gabi said, her frustration plain. “I think she’s deliberately trying to make me feel guilty for splurging the way I did.”

Samantha shrugged. “I have a closetful of clothes I never wear. Why buy more?”

Gabi put her hand over her heart in an exaggerated gesture of dismay. “What sort of woman says a thing like that? You’re going to ruin shopping for the rest of us.”

Ethan laughed, though he wondered if Samantha’s restraint had less to do with an aversion to shopping than with finances. He had no idea how well an acting career might pay, especially one that was faltering the way she claimed hers was.

“All I can say is that Samantha’s attitude is music to a man’s ears,” he said. “And since you always look beautiful, I can’t see why you’d need a new wardrobe every few weeks, anyway.”

“Thank you,” Samantha said with a surprising blush on her cheeks.

As they reached the counter, Ethan said, “The ice cream is on me. Go crazy.”

“You might not want to say that,” Samantha warned. “Gabi’s been on a diet and I’ve already told you about my addiction. Between the two of us, we could blow your ice cream budget to smithereens.”

“I’ll take my chances,” Ethan said.

“Okay, then, you asked for it,” Gabi said, ordering a banana split that was big enough for two or three people. It was a favorite with teens double-dating.

Samantha showed only a little more restraint, ordering a double hot fudge sundae with extra hot fudge.

“I’ll have what she’s having,” Ethan said, pointing to the sundae. He grinned at her. “Of course, for me this is dinner.”

“And for me, it’s God’s gift to the dessert menu,” Samantha retorted. “You are not going to make me feel guilty.”

He laughed. “Never my intention.” He’d just wanted to see that quick rise of becoming color in her cheeks again. She hadn’t disappointed him.

Back at the table, Greg’s kids outdid themselves trying to get Ethan’s attention. He had one settled in his lap, another leaning into his side, when he spotted the look of envy on Samantha’s face. Easily identifying with it and knowing the ache of emptiness that usually accompanied those feelings, he leaned toward her. “You okay?”

“Just thinking how good you are with them,” she said. “And I’ve seen you with B.J., too. You’re a natural.”

“It’s a good thing, given the number of kids I see in the clinic every day.”

“Doesn’t it make you want to be a dad?”

“Sometimes, yes,” he said candidly. “I just know it’s not in the cards. How about you?”

“I wasn’t sure I had any maternal instincts until the first time I held Gabi’s baby. Now...” She sighed. “But why wish for something I’m not likely to have?”

“It’s not too late for motherhood. You’re only in your thirties, right?”

“Without a relationship in sight,” she reminded him. A grin teased at her lips. “Unless you’re volunteering.”

Now it was Ethan’s turn to blush. He could feel the heat climb into his cheeks as he considered the idea for just a heartbeat. Him. Samantha. A baby. It was a picture, all right, he thought, recalling Boone’s comment a while back.

“I’m sure if you let it be known that you want a baby, you’ll have plenty of volunteers,” he said, all but choking on the words. He hated the idea of anyone other than him touching her, but he had no right to feel such intense jealousy.

“Just anyone won’t do,” she said with a resigned expression.

Ethan was relieved to hear it, but he couldn’t let her see that.

Thankfully, Greg stood up just then. “Okay, Cameron and Lily, say good-night. I need to get you home and into bed.”

“But we want to stay with Uncle Ethan,” Lily said, holding tight to Ethan’s arm.

“Little girls need to get plenty of sleep so they’ll be beautiful when they grow up,” Ethan told her emphatically.

Lily turned a shy look on Samantha. “Like her?”

Ethan smiled. “Exactly like her.”

“Is she your girlfriend?” Lily asked.

Greg chuckled at Ethan’s choked reaction, but he did scoop his daughter up. “Enough with the personal questions, kiddo. It’s not polite.”

“But you always say if I want to know something, I should ask,” Lily said, obviously confused by the contradiction.

“One of these days we’ll have a long talk about which questions are acceptable and which ones aren’t,” Greg said. “I think I’ll let your mother handle that. Tell your uncle Ethan good-night.”

Both kids gave him fierce hugs, then ran to the door. Greg gave him a wink. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

Ethan had a hunch his was going to be a whole lot less stressful than Greg’s, given that he was heading home with two kids on a sugar high.

9

N
o sooner had Greg left with his children than Gabi gave a dramatic yawn and stood up. “I think I’m about to crash, too. It’s the curse of motherhood. I have no stamina anymore. Ethan, would you mind giving Samantha a lift home? I know she’s not ready for the night to end.”

Before Samantha could protest or Ethan could reply, she took his acceptance for granted and sailed out of the ice cream parlor.

“That was subtle,” Samantha said, embarrassed by the obvious ploy. She stood up. “I can still catch her.”

Ethan reached for her hand and shook his head. “No, it’s fine. You’re not finished with your ice cream and neither am I. Stay.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, surprised by his easy acceptance of the situation.

“Given that I just saw your sister peel out of the parking lot like she has a curfew, I’d say I have to be,” he said wryly. “She wasn’t taking any chances you’d bolt after her.”

“I actually thought for a time she was immune to the meddling gene, or at least averse to it, given what we all put her through with Wade, but I guess not,” Samantha said with a resigned shrug. She pushed the remains of her sundae away. “As for this, my eyes were bigger than my stomach. Hard to imagine, but I can’t eat another bite of ice cream.”

“Want to go for a walk?” Ethan asked, surprising her yet again. “We could drive down by the town pier and walk either along the sand or out to the end of the pier. Of course, if it’s overrun with fishermen, we might be taking our lives in our hands.”

“Still, a walk definitely sounds good. It’s a beautiful night.” A romantic night with a full moon predicted, she thought to herself. Would that put Ethan in the same mood she was in? Or was he immune to such things?

By the time they reached the waterfront, the sky had darkened and the huge moon was casting its light across the water, bringing silver-tipped waves to shore. They walked down to the water’s edge. Samantha kicked off her shoes and let the waves lap over her feet. She was going to suggest Ethan do the same before it dawned on her that walking in sand might be difficult with his prosthesis and that water might not do it any favors, either. Since he’d suggested the walk, though, she wasn’t about to hint she thought he might not be up to it. He knew his own capabilities better than anyone, and obviously prided himself on having mastered the use of his artificial limb.

Instead, she focused on the tranquil scene before them. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she said, unable to keep a note of awe from her voice. “I never see such clear skies in New York.”

“It is beautiful,” Ethan said, his voice oddly ragged.

When she glanced up, she saw he was looking at her, his gaze intense. “Samantha...” His voice trailed off, leaving an opening.

She seized it and stepped closer. “Don’t say anything,” she whispered, putting a hand on his cheek. The sandpapery texture was all male. So was the heat.

“Bad idea,” he murmured, though he defied his own warning and leaned down, touching his lips to hers.

To the contrary, Samantha thought it was an excellent idea as she lost herself in the kiss. It was sweet and tender and restrained, but there was an unmistakable sense of urgency just below the surface. She wanted desperately to tap into that, to shake Ethan up, to make him let go and kiss her the way he had done a thousand times in her teen fantasies.

Though she’d been seduced far more than she’d been the aggressor, she dared to touch her tongue to the seam of his lips, earning a moan of pleasure. Even so, he put his hands on her shoulders and took a step back, exhibiting that same exasperating restraint that had marked all their encounters. How would they ever get past that, she wondered, when on some very deep level, he didn’t want to?

“I still think we’re playing with fire here,” he said.

She smiled at the worry in his voice. “I hope so,” she retorted, eager for the fulfillment of all those long-ago daydreams and not caring for the moment that she was putting her heart on the line.

His eyes widened at her bold response. “You really are going to be the death of me, aren’t you?”

“I hope not. I just want to tempt you.”

“You accomplish that by walking into a room,” he said with unexpected candor. “This goes way beyond temptation, Samantha.”

“Not if we’re still standing here instead of racing to your place,” she said.

Ethan smiled at that, then took yet another step back. “Which we are not going to do,” he said firmly. “One of us needs to think clearly. I can’t give you what you need, Samantha. I don’t believe in forever or happily-ever-after. Even if it does exist, I know I’m not cut out for it. And you’re only here for another week or so. Why start something that could only end badly?”

If Samantha hadn’t seen the struggle underlying his words, she might have pressed her advantage, but how could she, knowing that Ethan—the man who never had regrets—would be filled with them in the morning? So would she, more than likely. She might not agree with the limits he’d put on his life, but how could she not respect them?

“Could we just sit on the pier, enjoy the night?” she asked, not ready for the evening to end, not if it wasn’t going to have the ending she’d hoped for. “Maybe have a little friendly conversation?”

“Sure. We can do that,” he said, taking her hand for the walk back. He glanced at her. “And just so you know, Samantha, that may have been the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

“Telling me no?” she said, startled by the admission.

He nodded.

“Then why did you do it?”

“Because it was the right thing to do. You deserve so much more than I have to offer.”

She frowned at the suggestion that he couldn’t possibly be enough for her. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“One of the reasons you’re spending time with these kids is to bolster their self-confidence, right?”

Though he must have felt the question came out of left field, he didn’t even hesitate. “Absolutely.”

“How can you possibly be any good at helping them when your own self-image is lousy?”

A frown flitted across his face. “My self-confidence is just fine,” he contradicted.

“And yet you can stand there and say that you don’t have enough to offer me or presumably any other woman. If you ask me, that’s your former fiancée talking and we’ve already agreed that she was a jerk.”

Ethan looked startled by the straight talk.

“I’m just being realistic,” he insisted. “For all the things we’ve discovered we have in common, there are still plenty of things that make us a bad match, not the least of which is you needing to figure out what you really want out of life.”

She wanted to tell him that she had figured it out, that she wanted him and a family and a home right here, but how could she? The idea was still too new to her, too far from certain. She let her silence speak for itself, let him think he’d gotten it right because she couldn’t honestly deny that he had.

As they sat on a bench in the glow of the moonlight, he faced her, longing in his eyes. He caressed her cheek, his hand charmingly unsteady. Samantha wanted to capture it, press a kiss to his palm, but she held back.

“You figure things out,” he said quietly. “Then we’ll talk.”

Though the comment offered more hope than anything he’d said before, she wasn’t satisfied with the concession. “Just so you know, in my opinion, talking is highly overrated.”

“And yet you get onstage and deliver lines for a living,” he teased in an obvious attempt to lighten the mood.

“Those are somebody else’s words, someone else’s emotions,” she said. “In the real world, I’m just saying there may be better ways to communicate.”

He draped his arm around her shoulder, warming her when she shivered in the breeze off the ocean. “A topic for another day,” he said. “Let’s just focus on the here and now. You. Me. The moonlight. The sound of the waves. What’s not to love?”

It was more than he’d ever offered before, so she took him up on it. She leaned in to all that solid strength and heat and sighed. “It’s a perfect moment,” she agreed, her voice shaky.

Though there was a very good chance that all this sweet proximity with no payoff just might make her a little crazy.

* * *

Ethan felt as if he’d brushed up against danger and emerged with little more than battle scars as he drove over to Cora Jane’s. He’d wanted everything Samantha had been offering at the beach, wanted it with a level of desire he hadn’t felt even when he’d been engaged. He liked that she challenged his assumptions, liked that she deliberately tempted him, putting her own emotions on the line. The attraction he felt for her had spiked by several heated degrees tonight. But attraction didn’t always last. His engagement had been proof of that. And when it wore off, hearts could get broken. He didn’t want it to be hers any more than he wanted to go through that pain again himself.

He knew he’d spend the lonely hours in his cold bed kicking himself for not giving in, but he also knew he’d still be able to look in the mirror in the morning. Sex would have been easy. Doing the right thing took a toll.

As he parked in Cora Jane’s driveway, he turned to face Samantha. “Any idea what’s on tomorrow’s agenda? Do we have wedding-related duties?”

“Boone’s folks are flying in with their respective spouses. He’s expecting all of us for dinner at the restaurant in the private dining room. Personally, I think we should have eaten in the main dining room with everyone else.”

“Why is that?”

“Have you ever been around both of his parents at the same time? Now that his mom is on her third or fourth husband, they’re barely civil. She always has some snarky comment about his dad’s trophy wife that gets things started. He replies in kind and it pretty much goes downhill from there.”

Ethan winced. “I haven’t crossed paths with them since the divorce years ago, but it sounds like a barrel of laughs. Maybe he should include the Farmers, too, and complete the circle of warring factions.”

“Are you kidding? Emily told me that Boone insisted they be invited to the wedding as a courtesy. He thought maybe they’d finally accept the situation for B.J.’s sake.”

“I assume they didn’t,” Ethan said.

“Hardly. Jodie shredded the invitation. She even crossed out the preprinted address on the envelope because it was Emily’s and sent the bits of paper directly to Boone.”

Ethan sighed at the woman’s all-too-typical response, her deliberate attempt to inflict pain on Boone. “I hope one of these days she’ll be able to let go of her grief and anger, if only for B.J.,” he said. “He doesn’t need to feel as if he’s torn between his grandparents and his stepmother. He loves them all.”

“And needs them,” Samantha agreed. “I just don’t understand why Jodie can’t see that she’s his tie to his mom. There are
so
many stories she can share with him, stories B.J. needs to hear. He was so young when Jenny died. I know he doesn’t want to forget about his mom. Instead, if Jodie keeps this up, she’ll only alienate him.”

“I hate it when children get caught up in adult warfare,” Ethan said. “Usually it happens after a divorce. Even Boone, one of the most stable guys around, has baggage from his parents’ split. Of course, in his case, it’s turned out to be a positive thing. He works twice as hard to protect B.J. and to keep the peace with the Farmers, even when Jodie makes it all but impossible.”

“What about your family?” Samantha asked. “I just remember seeing your mom and dad at football games on the few times we came over here in the fall to visit Grandmother. They were certainly united in their support of you.”

“They’re happily united, period. They’ve retired and moved over to Asheville. They sit on their porch in the evening, holding hands and watching the sun set in the mountains. I feel like a fifth wheel every time I visit.”

“You can see that level of contentment and not believe in happily-ever-after?” Samantha asked, studying him incredulously.

Ethan understood the contradiction. He’d wrestled with it a time or two, though not lately. Something told him, though, that Samantha was going to make him reexamine everything he’d believed about love.

“They’re the exception, not the rule,” he said finally. “And sure, there was a time when I wanted what they’d found.”

“And then came What’s-her-face,” Samantha said sarcastically.

“Lisa,” he supplied.

“My point is that you let one bad apple ruin a lifetime of apparently good memories. She doesn’t deserve to have that much power over you.”

“Intellectually, I know that,” he agreed. “And I think we’ve been down this road enough for one night.”

“Maybe so, since I’m obviously making no inroads in changing your mind,” she said, her frustration plain.

“Want to try again tomorrow?” he asked. “I could pick you up for this dinner thing.”

Her lips twitched. “As a courtesy or as a date?”

He’d be more comfortable calling it a courtesy, but they both knew better. “Do we have to define it?”

“I think we should.”

Ethan thought about it. He recognized the sensible answer. He also recognized that it wouldn’t delude either one of them. “Might as well call it a date,” he said, hoping he sounded casual. “Throw a bone to the meddlers.”