Emily had loved the beach best in nonsummer times. She’d liked the brisk air. The fact that people weren’t there to worship the sun, but the water.
The house—there’d been no passion there. He’d always thought, once he and Emily finally bought their “forever” home, it would automatically warm with their love in every room.
He’d wanted the type of intensity he’d witnessed between his parents anytime they’d been in the same room in their home.
Because at home they could let down all barriers and just be completely themselves.
The apartments he’d shared with Emily had all been owned by others, and they could hear others through the walls. But their own home...
He ran as though angry with the sand. Barely aware of the water off to the left. Or the slight cliff leading to grass and hopes to his right.
Em?
The intensity between his parents...
It reminded him of the other night in the car with Christine...
He stopped. Bent over, his hands on his knees, gasping for air.
Shook himself off. Tried to start running again. And fell to his butt in the sand, knees raised, facing the ocean.
He’d loved Emily with all his heart. First as a friend. A best friend. And then forever.
And Christine...
She had brought passion to his life.
She was carrying the baby he’d created with his wife, and he’d fallen in love for the first time in his life.
What in the hell was he going to do with that?
* * *
When Jamie didn’t suggest an outing by Sunday afternoon, Christine called him. She’d been completely out of line threatening to enforce her right to not see him for the remainder of the pregnancy.
He must be treading carefully, afraid he’d do something to set her off, and she couldn’t have that.
“I have to decide by tomorrow what finish I want on the floors, either just a clear gloss, or tinted coating, and I could sure use some help,” she told him about her renovations, including the fact that she was being mindful of chemicals that could affect the baby, keeping things just as they’d been before the night of the show. They’d meet up in the midst of normal life, and then go on with their separate lives.
When he didn’t immediately respond in the affirmative, she added, “He’s been kicking up a storm all weekend. He needs to hear your voice.”
The baby was his. She couldn’t fall in love with it. Which meant that he had to cover that part.
So, they’d kissed.
And she’d cried. She was pregnant. She was allowed to be out of her head a bit. Once the baby was born, her hormones leveled out, she’d be happy with her life again.
And even if Olivia was somewhat right about some things, Christine had already made her choices. Luckily she’d had warning to guard herself against Jamie before she’d done something really stupid like fall in love with him.
That’s all the kiss had been. A warning to herself.
She’d dressed in a baggy denim dress with colorful flowered lace trim, and as soon as he stood, in jeans and a short-sleeved polo shirt in her living room, his hazel eyes assessing her in a way that felt far too personal, like he knew her too well, she started to panic. And quickly calmed herself with the knowledge that fear was a warning and she was taking heed.
“It’s good to see you,” she said, to put him at ease. To let him know that nothing had changed between them.
He smiled. “It’s good to see you, too.” His words were warm. And that gaze... It was like he was leaning in to kiss her without moving. So she turned away.
Cut off anything that might be misconstrued or cause trouble.