The Second Time Around, page 23
Tommy tilted his chin up and opened his mouth. The shrimp landed on Tommy’s plate. The man leaned over the griddle, picked up the piece with chopsticks, told Tommy to open again, and dropped the shrimp into Tommy’s mouth. They all cheered.
Smith caught his piece out of the air and talked the chef into tossing him a second.
“You ready, lady?” The chef motioned to Claire.
Claire nodded, but her brows furrowed. She leaned forward and opened her mouth. The shot was a little short. She snapped for it, but the shrimp hit her neck and dropped down her dress between her breasts. The chef’s face slackened, his eyes worried. The whole table went quiet until Smith burst out laughing.
Claire chuckled as she looked down.
“I’m so sorry,” the chef said as he piled reparation shrimp onto her plate.
“It’s fine.” Claire’s neck rolled up as she tried to see down her dress.
Smith snapped his chopsticks. “Need some help? I’m very good with these.”
“Smith!” Banks was appalled. Truly disturbed. To speak to his would-be stepmom in such a manner.
“What? You’d rather I use my fingers?”
Heat rushed to Banks’s face. He’d been imagining himself doing just that. His cheeks got hotter as he watched Claire stick her hand between her cleavage and rummage around.
Smith really needed to stop laughing at her.
Claire pulled the shrimp out between two fingers. There was a twinkle in her eyes above her beautiful blush as she slipped it in her mouth.
Banks’s jaw loosened as he watched. Helen would have excused herself to go to the bathroom and take care of it. She would not have felt herself up at the dinner table. It was improper . . . and arousing.
Smith wiped tears off his face with his napkin. “This. This is my favorite part of the trip.”
“That is inappropriate,” Banks said, talking to Smith, but hoping Claire got the message too.
Smith started laughing all over again. He was laughing so hard he’d moved into the keening-animal zone. It infected Claire, and then she was laughing too.
Banks scowled. It wasn’t that funny.
“Can I have your shrimp?” Tommy asked Claire.
Banks was going to tell his sons to leave the woman alone, but he bit his tongue. Talking hadn’t done him any favors tonight.
Claire choked back her giggles enough to pass over her plate.
The chef went back to work preparing their meal. With each dish, he gave Claire an extra-large portion. She set the plate between herself and Smith. They ate it together.
Banks tamped down his jealousy, reminding himself that this was a very good thing. Smith had finished Helen’s food at nearly every meal. It was a gift to see Smith developing the same sort of relationship with Claire.
Chapter 34
CLAIRE
Claire brushed her teeth on their last night in Hawaii, thinking about what a lovely time she’d had. Everything had been easy and sunny. She liked the Sextons. She fit in with them and wanted to remain firmly in their inner circle. Their easy banter and generous hearts lifted her soul. A soft, tentative knock sounded at her door. Smith. Her pulse skittered, betraying how much she wanted to see him, invite him in. She was glad she hadn’t washed off her makeup or changed out of her dress yet.
She forced a calming breath but couldn’t stop her smile as she opened the door. Then she frowned. “Banks?”
He wore the same slacks and linen shirt he’d worn to dinner—a casual place that specialized in poke bowls. He twisted his hands in front of his belly.
“Is everything all right? Tommy?” She stepped forward in worry.
Banks’s smile looked nervous and forced. “He’s fine. Passed out already. I just thought there’s a lovely mermaid statue at the edge of the resort, and I wanted to make sure you got to see it before we leave. It’s close by. Walk with me?”
She hesitated. Just the two of them on an evening walk? She shrugged off her worries. He was her friend, and he was being thoughtful. She’d rather visit with him than sit here wanting Smith. Not to mention the mermaid sounded cool. She stepped into the hall. “I’d love to see it.”
He beamed for a moment before his face slipped back into an uncomfortable grin.
“Is everything all right?”
He turned, and she walked at his side. “I’m sorry about the hibachi dinner last night. If Smith was disrespectful or overstepped . . . I don’t ever want you to be uncomfortable with us.”
Claire chuckled at the irony. “Kind of you to worry, but please don’t. I really enjoy the company of all of you. I can handle a bit of teasing. My girls can be ruthless.”
“Maybe they’d like to join us here next year.”
“Oh.” She pulled back in surprise. That felt odd. Generous, but not quite right. Hmm?
“Or not,” he said quickly. “We can revisit that idea another day.”
They rode the elevator in awkward silence. It got better outside, with the space and the beauty and the breeze. “I love the smell. The flowers here are divine. I wish I could bottle them up and take them home.”
“I think you can buy that in the gift shop.”
She huffed a short laugh. “It’s not quite the same.”
“No.” He looked at the stars and inhaled. “It’s not. Helen used to say how the wind carries stories. You smell them and feel them instead of read them. The air in each place has something different to share.”
“What a lovely thought.” She inhaled brine and blossoms. “I like that a lot and am going to have to think about that more. The wind whispers stories. Delightful.”
Banks’s face drooped in sadness, and she could almost see his grief tightening around him like a net of cinching ropes.
Claire touched him gently on the forearm. “She sounds truly amazing. I bet it’s really hard to be here this year without her.”
He shook his shoulders as if he could shimmy free of the uninvited emotions.
Claire knew better. He couldn’t shoo the suffering away like a pesky rat. It would claim its due time one way or another. Her heart went out to him.
His face perked up. “It would have been, but you’re here. You’ve made all the difference. You’re amazing too.”
Claire felt a touch of self-consciousness. She didn’t want flattery right now. She didn’t want to be compared to Helen ever. As much as he might wish it, she couldn’t be a bandage covering his wounds.
They rounded a corner of the gravelly ocean path, and the statue came into view, a young woman with ebony skin and a bronze fish tail. Long curly hair covered her naked chest. She gazed out at the ocean with a look of longing that punched Claire right through the heart. Claire felt for her. Claire was her.
Her breath caught. “Oh. Oh, wow. She’s stunning.”
Banks watched Claire watching the mermaid. She tried to ignore him as she drank in the art, the emotion, the connection she felt to this female. This woman who wanted what was just beyond her reach. Claire brought a hand to her empty womb and another to her yearning heart. It pounded against her fingers, healthy and strong. There was still time for living yet. She wanted fiercely and with sudden clarity to leave the safe harbor she’d built for herself these last few years. She’d needed time at the dry dock to heal, but now she was ready to set sail again. And her heart was charting a course toward Smith.
Finally she turned to Banks. She couldn’t look him in the eyes. Didn’t want to see the expression there or share her soul with him. She was eager to find his son. “Thank you for bringing me here.” Formal tone. “This is the most incredible trip I’ve ever been on.” She turned to walk back toward the hotel.
He stepped up and put fingers on her forearm. “Wait. I want to ask you something.”
An icy snake coiled around her chest as she faced him.
Hope and anxiety sprouted over his face as he held out trembling hands to her.
She hesitantly set her hands in his, worried about where this might be going. Her brow furrowed.
“You are amazing, Claire. Gorgeous, smart, kind, funny.”
She didn’t say thank you. Her thoughts darkened as dread rose through her.
“You have been a blessing to this family. Tommy loves you.” He swallowed. “I love you.”
She puffed out a shock of air as her body suffered the attack of a million tiny needles. No. She lifted her hands from his. Bless his broken heart. But no.
He stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out a jewelry box.
Curse words went off like bombs in her brain. She couldn’t think straight. The blood drained from her entire body as he opened the box to reveal a stunning diamond solitaire.
He knelt in the gravelly path. The wind toyed with his hair. What would Helen say the breeze was thinking now? It sounded mocking in her ears. He tilted his handsome, hopeful face up to her. “Will you marry me?”
She couldn’t breathe. She felt like a suffocating stone corpse. Her jaw came unhinged.
“I don’t expect you to replace Helen.”
Yes, he did. Of course, he did. He wanted her to make all the hurt and discomfort disappear. It was total foolishness, but she understood it. “Is that her ring?”
His expression faltered when he looked at the ring, a powerful symbol of his years and devotion to Helen. His eyes clouded, like maybe he hadn’t let himself focus on what he was doing, the quick fix he was trying to force. Claire got the impression he hadn’t dared look at the ring since stealing it from his closet, a hostage on his mad mission. He swallowed, and the uncertainty in his features smoothed into a charming smile.
“We can get you something else if you want. I thought this was a good placeholder until then.”
Stunned back into speechlessness.
“You’re already part of the family. It feels so natural to have you here. You’re such a good mother to Tommy.” His brow furrowed. “And Smith too.”
Oh, holy hell. Smith. This was going to hurt him. Did he already know about this proposal tonight? Did he give Banks his blessing? No. No.
“Tommy needs you.”
“Tommy has me.” Her voice came out dry and crackly.
“I need you.”
“You need to give yourself a bit more time to heal. What you need me for is what you have me for, a nanny and friend. Besides, we’ve never been on a date. Or even kissed.”
Banks rose to stand. Claire watched, paralyzed, as he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to hers. His lips were softer than she’d expected. Baby soft. Her vision went cross eyed as she tried to focus on his face. The future seemed as blurry as he was. He was a handsome man. He offered her so very much. Did she need to give this a try? The kiss wasn’t unpleasant. It wasn’t magic like . . . oh, shit.
When he brought his fingers to her waist and shifted his lips to deepen the kiss, she knocked his hand off and stepped back.
“No. Nope. No.” She was panting. Her heart pinched in pain. “No. I’m sorry. No. My answer is no.”
“No?” He looked confused.
She softened her tone. “You don’t love me. You’re grieving and alone, and I’m here. I’m nice and good with Tommy and pretty. I’m an easy answer, but I’m not the right one. I am confident that, with time, you will find a better woman for you. I am not she.”
He opened his mouth, but no words came. Hurt and humiliation darkened his face.
“You are amazing in so many ways. But we are not the right fit as husband and wife. Nanny and employer, yeah, we’re perfection together.” She silently begged him not to get angry. She could picture Stevie’s reaction. He would manipulate her, turn his pain into a weapon. He couldn’t stand to be miserable alone. She would be devastated if Banks fired her for this. He couldn’t. “You are a wonderful man, Banks. I am so happy with Tommy. This job you’ve given me has not only saved me from debt but brought me so much joy. I’m truly heartbroken for your loss, but please don’t ask this of me. Please understand that we shouldn’t get married.” Her voice turned pleading.
He closed the ring box and stuffed it back into his pocket. He stared at the ocean. She crossed her fingers and hunched against an impending blow. Finally he turned to her. “You’re right. Of course, you’re exactly right. I’m sorry.”
She held her breath.
“I put you in an uncomfortable position. Which you handled with grace. I’m embarrassed. Please forgive me. Can we pretend it never happened and move forward as before?”
Pretend it never happened. She exhaled pure relief even as she registered it was the same impossible thing she’d asked of Smith. She felt sick. “Yes. Of course.”
“I think I’ll just head up to bed now.” He looked so sad and broken she had to resist the urge to try and comfort him.
She nodded. “I’ll stay with our mermaid for a bit longer if that’s all right.”
He looked relieved. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“It will be a fresh new day.” She sent him an encouraging look. “Good night, Banks.”
He strode off. As his footsteps faded, her body sagged. She sat down at the base of the statue, her body trembling. She shook like a leaflet in a tornado. She cursed for long seconds. Let the wind take that story and share it.
Who the hell did Banks think he was dropping that bomb on her, treating marriage, her, like a company to merge with? She could get over the idiotic proposal. The bullshit declaration of love. He didn’t love her. He loved what she did for him. He’d thought elevating her to wife status was a promotion. He was grieving and seeking any comfort. All forgivable. She did understand, and she did forgive him, the poor sap. But then he’d kissed her. Her lips were her own business.
And she’d given them to Smith.
Smith.
And she’d given her heart to Tommy. She’d fallen for that golden boy just like she’d fallen for her daughters. She’d suffer anything for them. She’d beg and plead to keep her place with Tommy.
She whimpered. Stevie couldn’t have taken her daughters from her, but Banks had all the power over Tommy. Would she have to marry him to keep Tommy? She pinched her eyes shut. She couldn’t do that. But part of her truly wished she could have done it for Tommy. Banks would give her a beautiful life, adventures, and luxuries she’d never afford on her own. He was a good man, so good she believed he would move forward from tonight with no hard feelings. It was going to be okay. They were okay. He’d made a mistake, but he was man enough to accept it. Comfort sprouted in her chest, only to be squashed again by the real problem. Smith.
She couldn’t keep this from Smith. It would eat her up inside.
That’s what her anger was really about. She was pissed at Banks for putting her in this position with Smith. She must tell Smith the truth because she actually, fully, deep down, adult-style, honest-all-the-way-through cared a fuck-ton lot about Smith.
Before she lost courage, she pulled out her phone and forced her fluttery fingers to text. One last ice cream before we go?
She waited. No reply.
In what twisted world could a man and his father develop feelings for the same woman? No, that wasn’t true. Banks missed Helen; he didn’t love Claire. Smith was young, but she couldn’t write him off anymore. Or her own feelings. No more pretending. Spending time with him here had been as smooth and easy as honey. And just as sweet.
Meet in the hall in two minutes?
Her heart surged. She wanted him to kiss her better, use those hands to fix her up nicely. I’m already outside. I’ll meet you at our bench instead.
She was not interested in being Banks’s wife, but as she said goodbye to the stranded statue, she let herself imagine what it would be like to be loved by Smith.
Chapter 35
SMITH
Smith strode eagerly down the path toward Claire, stunned and thrilled she’d texted. She was coming around. He knew she liked him back; finally she was starting to accept it. Today had been mellow: surfing, swimming, and snacking. No drama. He felt Claire loosening up around him. Last night at the hibachi dinner, she’d laughed without reserve. She’d left her leg pressed against his. He sensed her shields coming down. He had hope. He burned with it.
He didn’t want to go home tomorrow. He didn’t want this dream vacation to end. When she went home to that house she’d shared with Stevie, would she remember her fear and close up again? Was he kidding himself that she’d ever let herself be vulnerable?
He found her on the bench at the top of a small rise overlooking sea and stars. She held out a mini pineapple ice cream. Her face looked pale and somber. His stomach tightened in dread. He accepted the treat and sat down at her side. “Putting me on a diet, I see. Probably good after the week we had.” He took a bite. “Where’s yours?”
“I don’t have an appetite.” Her voice came out weak.
Was she breaking up with him? He almost laughed out loud. There wasn’t anything here to break. Except his heart.
He wanted to pry, but instead waited patiently, eating the ice cream he no longer wanted, watching the ocean that seemed to bode bad news. A bewitching sea, as Mom would have called it.
“I feel like I need to tell you what happened tonight. You should know.”
The cream and sugar in his stomach curdled. He set the bowl on the bench.
“Banks asked me to marry him.”
“What?” It was the only word he could find to say. He’d sort of known Dad might try something—the poor, heartbroken asshole—but a marriage proposal?! He didn’t think Dad was stupid enough to actually pop the question. Unless . . . “What did you say?”
Her head snapped toward him. Her eyes turned to hellfire.
It was incredibly reassuring. Although he still felt sick.
“He even had Helen’s ring. It was gorgeous.”
His gaze dropped to her bare left finger. He knew the 4.2-carat, cushion-cut pink diamond well. He’d hoped to inherit it for his wife someday. He glanced at the only woman in the world he could have imagined giving it to. And his father had just tried. Acid roared up his throat.
“Offering her ring just shows how much he wasn’t thinking straight.” A lock of hair blew across Claire’s flushed cheeks. “He wasn’t wanting me; he was missing her. He knows deep down he can’t replace her, but I can’t be too angry at him for wanting to try.”
