This time she knew he wasn’t talking only about the dog.
Her heart beat a little faster. “What was his reason?”
“That dog was fierce and angry, but once he realized no one was trying to hurt him, he stopped being angry and he was the most docile, loving dog you ever met.”
“Did he eventually go to a good home?”
“Yeah, I like to think so.” He lay back on the sand and shielded his eyes against the sun with his arm. “He lived with us for fourteen years. Best damn dog we ever had. I still miss him.”
She lay watching him, thinking that no other man had ever affected her the way Seth did. He slammed through her willpower with his handsome face and his sexy smile, and he sneaked under her defenses with his patient kindness.
Strength, for Seth, wasn’t who could shout loudest or act meanest. It wasn’t fists or fight, although she had no doubt he could defend himself if the need arose.
No, strength was doing the right thing no matter what the cost.
She sometimes wondered if part of his appeal, at least at the beginning, was that he represented the complete opposite of her father.
He kept up a steady flow of conversation, telling her stories about his mother, about Vanessa, about the time Bryony had fallen off her horse and broken her arm. She told him more about her time in college, about all the adventures her mother was having now, and about Daniel’s relationship with Molly. She almost told him about the visit she’d made to her father, that night in the rain, but she wasn’t ready to share that story with anyone yet, not even with a good listener like Seth.
And he was a good listener. He paid attention, not just to what she said but what she didn’t say, and beneath the apparently easy conversation was the ever-present awareness, an intense chemistry and sexual tension that shimmered between them.
It felt easier talking to him than it had the first time, and she didn’t know why that was.
Aware that it was getting late, she sat up and dusted the sand from her arms. “One thing. Last time. You go first.”
“Hey, I just told you fifty things. It’s your turn.”
“Definitely yours. You’re confused.”
“That might be that top you’re wearing. The sight of semibare breasts has a strange effect on my brain.” He leaned toward her, and she gave him a push.
“One thing. Your turn.”
He paused and his gaze dropped to her mouth. “I’m glad you decided to hide from me in the Hamptons.”
“I didn’t do a great job of hiding.”
“I’m glad about that, too.”
Discovering she felt the same way made her heart miss a beat.
She had no idea where this was leading. No idea what she was going to do when she got there.
But for the time being, she was enjoying the ride.
* * *
SETH SPENT THE following day in surgery and then drove back to the house to shower and change before fulfilling an obligation he’d been dreading. He’d almost hoped for an emergency to give him an excuse not to show up.
He’d put it out of his mind while he was operating, but now that was over he discovered he didn’t have the self-discipline to hold back the thoughts. He knew all about the stages of grief, and he’d experienced each one. Shock, denial, anger—he’d gone through the roller coaster of all the emotions after his father had died.
And now he had to sell Ocean View, which felt like the last connection with his father.
Pulling up outside his house, he was surprised to see Fliss’s car.
His mood lifted, and then he realized with a pang that whatever she’d planned wasn’t going to work for him.
He planned to do what needed to be done and then sit out on the deck and share his low mood with the sunset. Maybe a beer.