The man smiled at her again, and the sunrise highlighted the little crinkles around his eyes as he extended a hand to help her up, standing with her. Once on her feet, she saw the way he frowned at her clothing. Yeah, a black dress wasn’t exactly what one wore to kayak in.
“You look a little overdressed, Rayna.”
She attempted to pat the sand from her skirt and shrugged. “I suppose I am. I left in a hurry because… I needed to clear my head. My husband died.”
“I see.”
She glanced at him again and found the same pitying expression that had sent her scurrying out of the house yesterday. “While with his twenty-three-year-old mistress,” Rayna added, just for shock effect.
It worked, because Connor’s dark eyebrows flew high on his forehead, and he lifted a hand to rub over his mouth as he tried to hide another grin. He had a handsome, easy smile.
“Well, now, I suppose if that had been the case, I’d need some time to myself, too. My wife passed a few years back. Cancer, not cheating.”
A huff of a laugh left her because of their inane conversation, and she shook her head with a wry groan. “I’m sorry. I suppose I shouldn’t have blurted it out like that. It’s just I’m sick of everyone looking at me with the pitying expression you just had.”
“Ahh, yes,” he said, nodding his head several times. “I remember that expression. My apologies,” he said, bowing slightly at the waist. “Won’t happen again. Shall we?”
Rayna smoothed her sand-coated hands over her damp dress to try to rid herself of some of the grit before giving up. Live at the beach and sand was a fact of life. Sleep on the beach and it was a lost cause.
Connor extended a hand toward her left, and she turned in that direction. The man fell into step beside her before she stopped once more. “The kayak. I should—”
“Allow me.” Connor returned to where she’d sat and hefted the kayak. Rayna picked up the paddle and her arms felt like lead noodles as she dragged it along, reminding her of the strength of the current and just how much danger she’d placed herself in.
Thankfully the walkway to his house wasn’t too far from them, and the moment they were on the wooden path winding over the dunes to his home, he set the kayak down.
“It’ll be safe here. Nobody’ll bother it.”
“You’re not even winded,” she said, leaning on the paddle as she gasped for breath coming up the soft sand incline.
He smiled at her and shrugged. “When my wife was sick, I discovered it helped to take my frustration out on gym equipment. It helped me cope.”
“I should try it. I haven’t been to a gym in ages,” she said, feeling very old and out of shape.
“You’re just hungry. Come on,” Connor urged. “We’ll get you fixed right up.”
She followed him up the narrow walkway to a gorgeous two-story house. It sat on a hill about an eighth of a mile from shore, a sprawling, stately looking home with turret-like balconies, walls of windows, and a view that had to be amazing. “It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you. My wife was an architect.”
“My nephew is an architect,” she said, trying to add to the conversation.
The closer they got to the house, the more awkward it felt to be accompanying a stranger, much less a man she’d met only minutes ago. “I’m a mess. Would you mind bringing out the phone?”
“Nonsense. Come in,” he insisted. “If you’re worried about your safety, I promise to keep my distance.”
“I could be the crazy one,” she said, thinking of the past week and her stress-induced amnesia. That qualified as crazy, right?
Last night on the water, she’d had to fight off the fugue state. She found herself drifting in and out, aware of what she was doing and then… not. It was terrifying.
Not panicking had become a priority, and as she’d continued along and decided life was worth living and her girls deserved better than to lose their mother, too, the fog had slowly faded.
“Oh, I’m pretty good at reading people. I’ll take my chances,” Connor said, drawing her attention back to him as he moved to a door and unlocked it by pressing a series of numbers.
They entered into an open living area with a kitchen at the far end. “Oh, it’s gorgeous,” she breathed, her exhaustion sliding away as her interior design side surged briefly to life.
“I hope so. That means it’ll fetch a good price. I’m thinking of selling it.”
She turned to look at him in surprise and watched as he shrugged.