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He smiled, dimples slashing on either side of his mouth.
He carried the baby up to the house, and they took turns in the shower while Lee slept. The taking-turns made her sad, too. How many times in the past had they shared that shower?
Stepping into shorts, she watched him shrug on a t-shirt over his board shorts. Muscles flexed in his arms and abs, and in another life, she’d have wanted to climb him, been filled with a low thrill of arousal, memories of touching him, watching those muscles flex while he claimed her deepening her longing for him. And now . . . nothing.
Clarissa was right — she must talk to him.
But not today, not this afternoon. All she wanted today was to soak in his presence.
Maybe try to relax, since everyone, from Clarissa to Alice to a vast array of Internet sources, hailed a relaxed state as a solution.
“You ready to go for a walk, Leebo?” He leaned over Lee on the bed, propped on his arms, hair falling over his forehead. Lee gurgled with glee, and Tick’s rich chuckle warmed her. He tickled the baby’s chin and the fold of his neck, eliciting a series of giggles. Capturing Lee’s feet, he tapped them together and blew a raspberry on them.
Slipping her t-shirt over her head, she smiled at Lee’s laughter, and her breath caught when Tick glanced up at her, a grin curving his thin lips, dimples slashed deep, joy and good humor glinting in his dark eyes.
Oh, she loved him.
Her chest tightened with emotion and anxiety, devotion for him tangling with what almost felt like grief. Watching him play with Eva as a baby, be the amazing father he was, had only made her want him more. She remembered that, the way she’d been drawn closer to him physically in the months after Eva’s birth.
What was wrong with her?
“You okay?” He shrugged into the baby carrier and lifted Lee into it, adjusting straps for both their comfort, the baby facing the world so he could see and experience.
“Of course.” This wasn’t the time or place to delve into her conflicted emotions. Smiling at Lee — that was never hard, never required a calm front — she swept up his floppy hat and fitted it onto his head. Chewing his fingers, he graced her with a gummy grin, bouncing his feet against Tick’s belly. She kissed the baby’s nose and straightened to find Tick’s gaze on her face, soft and hot.
Her stomach twisted, and she fought down a wave of inexplicable fear.
He stilled, gaze sharpening, before his features relaxed. With a long finger, he tucked her hair behind her ear, so soap and Chanel drifted over her. “Ready?”
With Eleanor reading and Eva watching a children’s movie with her cousins under aunt-and-uncle supervision, they crossed the ocean-front street into the small downtown area. As often as they visited, Folly Beach’s shopping district held nothing new, but she enjoyed ambling with him, sometimes holding his hand, sometimes not.
In the outdoor shop, he browsed through a rack of fishing reels, holding them up for Lee and discussing the pros and cons of each one, like Lee could understand or like the man needed another reel. At the display of surfboards, she paused, watching him, listening to the easy cadence of his drawl.
How many times had he whispered over her skin with that whiskey-and-molasses voice?
Why didn’t the mere memory of those moments send a shiver of reaction through her anymore?
She couldn’t get away from her thoughts, and the inadequacy hung about her in a cloud as they made their way from the outdoor shop into the touristy beach store next door. She flipped through a rack of hoodies, trying to dredge up a sense of normalcy.
Like she needed another beach hoodie, since she currently had five in their dressing room at home and one in her bag here.
With a lazy finger, he twirled the display of cheap jewelry sitting atop the clothing rack. “You know, I owe you a tacky beach souvenir. Maybe a couple. I didn’t get you anything the last two years.”
Her lashes fell on a breath half-laugh, half-sigh. “Tick.”
“Your anklet broke, remember?” He set a stand of hot pink shells swinging side to side. “What do you think about this one?”
“I think you’ve lost your mind if you think I’m wearing that.”
His grin flashed, and he lifted a lime green and turquoise string with a shark tooth attached. “Oh, here we go.”
“No.” She swatted his hand away from the display. He was an awful tease, and he knew if he bought her something, she’d wear it, no matter how tacky it was. She should never have let him witness her sentimentality where he was concerned.
He turned to browse through another set of jewelry, and she shook her head, holding aloft a thin gray hoodie she definitely didn’t need.
“What about this one?” A slender leather anklet draped over his finger, a single delicate shell interrupting the braid.
“It’s not awful.” At the faint praise, his grin widened, and he reached for the hoodie she held, draping it over his arm. “What are you doing? I don’t need that.”
