He wondered whether she still saw him. Whether the man still had that much power over her.
“It’s kind of you to walk him. I know Chase appreciates it.”
“I can understand why he asked. This dog is too strong for Matilda. Sit.” She spoke sternly, and Hero eyed her, weighing up his odds of getting away with ignoring her. Deciding they weren’t good, he sat.
Fliss nodded. “That’s better. I am going to teach you to listen because once that baby arrives, you’re going to need to be more in control. It’s a big responsibility being a family dog. Are you paying attention?”
Lulu, who was good at sensing atmospheres, whined and slunk behind Seth’s legs.
Hero watched Fliss with big soulful eyes.
Seth watched her, too. He knew that at that moment she’d forgotten that she was pretending to be Harriet. In front of him was Fliss. The Fliss he’d known and remembered.
Their affair had been crazy, wild and hot. So hot that he’d often wondered if that had been part of the problem. If they’d spent less time having sex and more time talking, would they have weathered those traumatic early months?
Probably not, because that would have required her to open up. And she never opened up. She’d built defenses to keep her father out and in the process had kept everyone else out, too.
He’d grown up in a loving family, with parents who supported, encouraged but never interfered. They’d raised him to understand the importance of hard work. Of loyalty. Of love.
Everything he’d wanted had been at his fingertips.
And then he’d met Fliss.
“How’s your grandmother?”
“Bruised. And a little frightened, I think. It’s been a blow to her independence, and I hate to see that. I’m trying to rebuild her confidence.” She lowered her hand to the dog’s head. “She’s talking about making changes around the house.”
“What sort of changes?”
“Bed on the ground floor, that kind of thing. She’s wondering whether to have the apple tree taken down.” Her face was free of makeup, but the breeze and the sun had whipped pink into her cheeks. She was subtly feminine, with a narrowed tapered chin and defined cheekbones. He’d always loved the way she looked, but most of all he loved that she was strong, intelligent and outspoken. Standing this close to her, there was no doubt in his mind that this was Fliss. He’d long since given up asking himself how he could feel sparks of chemistry with one twin but not the other.
“She tripped in the garden, so I guess it makes sense. As for the house, if you need any remodeling, Chase might be able to help with that.”
“Yes, I heard he was building you a house.” She shielded her eyes and glanced at the ocean.
Did she think that not looking at him would make it less likely that he’d recognize her?
“I used to come to this beach with Fliss.” He saw her shoulders tense. “It was one of her favorite places.”
Eventually she turned, but only to make a fuss of Hero. “There are some great beaches around here. So do you have an ocean view?”
“Yes. You should come and take a look sometime. We could share a beer and watch the sunset.” They’d done that many times, the two of them, sitting on the sand, wrapped up in each other. She’d crept out of her grandmother’s cottage and he’d been waiting for her the other side of the rusty gate.
Did she ever think about it?
Was she thinking of it now?
“Maybe I will.” Her smile flashed, even as her eyes said never. “So you’re not living in your parents’ place?”
“For now, but it’s temporary.” And part of him wished he hadn’t opted to stay there. The place seemed suffused with sadness. Maybe it was the silence, after years of large noisy family gatherings, but these days the house felt like an empty, echoing void. “Chase reckons I’ll be able to move in next week. How long are you planning on staying?”
“I don’t know. Until I’m no longer useful.”
“Can Fliss manage without you?” He kept pushing, a little more each time, wanting her to trust him even though he knew she wouldn’t. Protecting herself was second nature to Fliss, the instinct so deeply ingrained that she protected herself even when she didn’t need to. She didn’t know any other way.
He searched for some sign that she was uncomfortable with the lie, but her expression didn’t change.
“Fliss will manage,” she said. “She always manages.”