This is the most alive I’ve felt since LeeAnne died.
The stark truth of the words he’d uttered a few days ago couldn’t be denied. He was alive again, and it was Jessica who’d brought him back to life. He’d thought his heart buried in the cold, dark ground with LeeAnne, but all at once he’d discovered that it still beat, warm and vital, in his chest.
And it belonged to Jessica.
Stop it, he told himself firmly. You’re being stupidly romantic. She’s not for you. She can’t be for you. This is just a weekend, nothing more.
And that was all right. He didn’t need forever, not really. He had a full life – a daughter he loved, the career he’d fought to build, and enough money to buy anything he really wanted. What he had with Jessica could only be a dream, a sweet imagining of what his life might have been like if he’d met her when he was younger and unencumbered by responsibilities.
For a single weekend, he’d indulge in the dream, and then…
Then he’d force himself back to drab reality.
The two of them sat on the patio of Johnson’s, watching the Gaslamp Quarter as it came alive for the evening. The first shadows of dusk had begun to darken the San Diego sky, and men in expensive suits and women in beautiful dresses swarmed everywhere, visiting the pricey shops, dining at the varied restaurants, and visiting the art galleries. Across the road, a long line was beginning to form outside the Horton Grand Theater to see the evening’s production of Hairspray.
Perhaps worried by his long silence, Jessica tried to draw her hand back, but he held on firmly. “Don’t,” he said softly. “Don’t pull away from me, Jessica.”
“It’s just…” A little crease formed on her forehead, making her look adorably worried. “I know people follow you around, taking pictures. I’ve seen you on magazine covers and in the paper. And Cara – and my father—”
She didn’t mention his own father, but they both knew there wasn’t the slightest chance in hell that Donald Sanderson would be okay with the two of them holding hands. He hadn’t told her about Donald’s increasing insistence that he marries a society belle, of course, but she already knew how Donald felt about anyone beneath the Sandersons – which was pretty much everyone. He remembered how his father had rudely refused to shake her hand, and just the memory was enough to make hot rage boil up inside him. Jessica is worth ten of any social butterfly, goddammit.
“You’re probably right,” he answered, pulling his own hand away. “But I don’t want you to think that I’m ashamed of you, Jessica. Don’t ever think that. I just…” He heaved a sigh. “For now, I just want us to keep complications to a minimum. All right?”
She nodded, and the little crease disappeared, lost in a warm, accepting smile.
“I understand,” she said. “And I agree. This weekend… Well, it’s just for the two of us.”
He nodded and smiled back.
“Just the two of us,” he echoed.
***
As shadowy darkness fell, the Porsche wound its way up Sunset Cliffs Boulevard, a curving road lined with expensive houses. At last the houses fell away, and only the dark, ominous shadows of trees could be seen on either side of the road. The car stopped in an empty parking lot, and Brent turned off the engine and came around to hold the door open for her.
“We’re a little late,” Brent said, taking her hand as he helped her step out, “but it’s always a beautiful view.”
She looked around. “Where are we?”
“The Sunset Cliffs. Come on.”
He tugged at her hand, and she followed just behind him. He didn’t bother to let go of her hand, because it was dark, and there were surprisingly few people around. Besides, beneath the shroud of darkness, a member of the illustrious Sanderson family looked pretty much like anyone else.
Well, except for the Porsche they’d just stepped out of, anyway.
They made their way out to the cliffs, and she gasped at her first glimpse of the sky out over the Pacific. A small sliver of burnt-orange was still visible above the dark ocean water, and above it, the sky was lavender fading to a deep purple. A few brave stars had already begun to shine, and a cool wind blew across the cliffs, lifting her dark hair.
“Oh, my God,” she whispered, almost reverently. “It’s beautiful.”
“You’ve never been here before?”
“No.”
“Good.” He squeezed her hand and spoke softly. “This weekend, I want to show you lots of things you’ve never seen before.”
In the gathering gloom, he couldn’t see her clearly, but he imagined a blush lighting up her pale cheeks, and he smiled to himself. The edge of the cliff had many narrow, treacherous paths leading down to the sea, and the cliffs themselves were riddled with caves and passages. Someday, maybe the two of them would explore it all together. But for now, just enjoying the sight of the vast ocean and the darkening sky, with her hand in his, was enough.