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“Uh-huh.” Mark grinned, flashing a teasing smile that somehow looked even brighter in the moonlight. Laura couldn’t help but think how handsome he was when he wasn’t solemn or grumpy. “Well, apology accepted.”
“And what about you, Mr. Grumpy Guy With a Saw, who might also be a pyromaniac?”
“I’m not a…” Mark frowned, but then he pointed his beer bottle at Laura. “You’re teasing me.”
“Maybe. For all I know, you set that fire on purpose so I’d come running and save you.”
“Why would I do that?”
She took a sip of beer, savoring the cold, crispness as it slid down her throat. Already, she began to feel the tightness in her stomach relax as the second beer hit her stomach, and she glanced out across the dark ocean waves. Above the water, thousands of stars glistened. “Maybe you like pretty ladies who also put out fires.”
He laughed. “Maybe,” he agreed.
Were they flirting? Laura wondered. It had been so long since she’d even been interested in flirting, she couldn’t say. Surely not.
She studied him. He was attractive—if you went for lean, muscled guys. With just a hint of gray at the temples and dark eyes that never missed a move. She would’ve put herself in that category, before Dean. Before losing her baby.
He took a swig of beer and glanced up at the star-filled sky. Then, he glanced back at her. “So? Go on. Tell me about your day. It had to be bad for you to suck down that beer so fast. What’s driven you to drink?”
“Oh. You don’t want to hear about my problems.” She couldn’t imagine he’d be the least bit interested.
“Actually, I would,” he said, leaning back in his deck chair and getting comfortable as he stretched his long, tanned legs out in front of him. “I’m bored to death of my own problems. I need a change of pace.”
“Well…” Laura hesitated. Was she really going to pour her heart out to a stranger she barely knew? Tell him secrets she’d not even told her closest friends in San Francisco who had no idea about the baby or Dean? “I don’t know. Most of my friends don’t even know what’s been going on. It’s not the kind of thing I can really share.”
“Okay,” he said, setting his beer down by the leg of his chair. “Let’s break this down. So you’re here for how long?”
“A month. I don’t know. I haven’t exactly made a plan.” She shrugged. She’d never imagine she’d be on such an open-ended trip before. But then again, she’d never imagined she’d have an affair, either. Life was full of surprises.
He raised his eyebrows. “Miss Noise Pollution doesn’t have a plan? I have to say, I’m surprised.”
“Why?”
“I thought you’d have your whole life planned out in one of those—what do they call them? Day riders? Runners? Calendar whatevers?”
“I like calendar whatevers, and no, I don’t.” Actually, she used to. Not that she had a physical calendar she carried around, but her online calendar was extensive. She even used to put major milestones in it, like ask for a raise, or look for a new job with more responsibilities. She’d been that odd job candidate who relished answering the question, what’s your five-year plan? She always had an answer.
Now? Not so much.
“I used to be a planner,” she admitted. “But that was before I learned that the old joke, ‘how do you make God laugh? Make a plan,’ was actually no joke.”
Mark nodded, agreeing. “Amen, sister,” he said and they clinked beer bottles.
Laura realized she was having a good time. Amazing, but true.
“So back to how horrible your day was,” Mark said.
“I thought we’d let that go.”
“Oh, no. I don’t let anything go.” Mark flashed another grin. “So you don’t know how long you’re staying, but I’m guessing you aren’t moving here for good.”
“Probably not.”
“Okay, then. A month. Maybe two at most you’ll be here, living above me. Then, you’re probably never going to see me again. So what’s the harm in telling me something? I don’t know any of your friends. I won’t tell any of them.”
He had a point there. She sighed. “Where do you want me to start?”
“Wherever you’d like. The workday is done. I’ve got a beer in my hand and I don’t have anywhere to be, except out here, enjoying this.” He lifted his beer bottle to the scenic view before them of the dark waves glistening in the moonlight. He had a point.
The beer helped her shed her inhibitions, and she forgot why she shouldn’t tell this man everything. He seemed like he really wanted to know. And he was right—he was a captive audience. Might as well see if he was a genuinely sympathetic ear.
