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He flipped over her hand and made an invisible pattern on her palm, as if he read her fortune with his fingers. The touch seared her palm, and she had to will the brewing desire away to keep from giving in once again. “Hmmm… I need to get him to sign those papers before she files for divorce.”
“Yes. And show him that you’re definitely not interested in his wife.”
“I’m not. And neither would she be in me, if she saw my daily life.”
“That’s it. She has to see your daily life. And the kids.” An idea almost made her jump out of the bed, and she squealed. Hadn’t Damian mentioned that Bill inquired about sailing and his boat? “We’re going sailing.”
* * *
Sailing.Damian looked at the marina in Dafield, a small beachy town where he kept his sailboat. Hadn’t been a bad idea after all. A day at the sea would give him enough time to secure the deal, and prove to Bill he was trustworthy and to Candi he was including her in whatever activity he took her husband on. A neutral offering to both. Best thing, his kids would do the heavy lifting.
He watched Amanda fix Brit’s hair while Libby read a book to little Trevor. The image brought a jolt of happiness to him. Could they be happy, the five of them? Would Amanda accept Brit as his girlfriend? She loved her now, when Aunt Brit didn’t represent any threat or didn’t at any moment to take Violet’s place. Perhaps once Brit had a title, that would change.
You overthink everything. And if they don’t fall on your idea of perfection, you get irritated. Violet’s words echoed in his ears. When he’d married her, he thought a lovely, demure woman coming from a traditional family from the East Coast would be the perfect partner in life and raising a family. Had he been too demanding? Had his idea of perfection, like she’d said, helped drive her away? He’d only wanted to be a good man, unlike his father.
“Daddy, what do you think?” Amanda asked, pointing at the short braids she’d made on either side of Brit’s hair.
“Good job,” he said.
“Brit taught me how to braid.”
“She has all kinds of talents.”
Amanda chuckled. “She does.”
He looked away, avoiding staring in Brit’s gaze and get lost. Today, he’d need to focus. A daytrip to a nearby small island would guarantee he spend the day with Bill to solidify their rapport, and Brit’s presence would put an end to any ideas he or Candi might entertain.
“They’re coming,” Libby said.
He turned in the direction of the entrance of the boat and spotted Bill and Candi strolling side by side down the deck. He had on shorts and a polo shirt, and she, a long cover-up dress hinting at a bikini underneath. “Ahoy,” Bill said. “She’s a beauty.”
“Thank you. So glad you both could make it,” he said, stretching his hand to help them aboard.
“It’s nice to be here.” Candi flashed him a smile.
When he’d send out the email inviting them, he hadn’t heard back from her. Maybe she’d looked at it as a way for him to extend an olive branch and show her that from now on he’d build rapport with both of them. He’d hate for her to feel excluded and avenge him by messing up his deal.
“Well, you already know Brit,” he said, gesturing at her. “She’s joined us with her daughter Libby, and those two rascals are mine: Amanda and Trevor.”
“Hi, Brit,” Bill said, shaking her hand. “Seems like we’ll have a full crew today, huh?” He glanced at the children.
“What a cute trio,” Candi said. “I wasn’t expecting to meet these little sailors. What a treat.”
“Hope it’s okay,” Damian said. “Such a beautiful day today.”
“Oh, it’s quite all right,” Bill said, waving him off. “My own children are grown, and I have no grandkids yet so it’s nice to spend time with other people’s children.”
Candi’s energy shifted, and she crossed her arms over her chest. Damian couldn’t detect why she seemed upset, but she stepped a few feet away from them, inspecting the buffet of pastries and fruits Brit had put out for them. Something about the way she walked but didn’t really focus on anything made Damian wonder if she was frustrated. But why? She’d just arrived.
“What would you like to drink? Champagne, beer? Or I can whip up a cocktail?” Brit asked, looking at a Bill.
“A beer will do.”
“Perfect. Easy man. I like that.” She turned in Candi’s direction. “What would you like?”
Candi touched the pendant in her necklace, fiddling with it. “Water for now. I’ll have champagne later.”
“Sounds good to me,” Brit said, heading to the small built-in refrigerator.
He watched Brit move around his boat with ease, and he’d asked himself how many times he’d taken it out in the past few years. Violet never enjoyed the water much, and with his work and the kids, he’d ended up paying for the fees and maintenance as a pathetic reminder his boat would be there. Not because he was so passionate about sailing, but it represented a part of him he’d one day reclaim. Why did he even need a hope? Had his marriage been so bad, or gotten so steadily mediocre, that he needed to promise himself a way out?
All those times I blamed her for leaving… but what if I checked out too, perhaps earlier, and lied to myself and to her? His gaze strayed to Brit again, and the warm feeling he’d become addicted to whenever he thought of her washed over him. Something deep inside told him with Brit, he wouldn’t have to pretend, ever. He wouldn’t need a boat, or another car, or a vacation home. She’d be all he needed, which filled him with hope and apprehension. Was he ready to give himself fully to another woman again? Or perhaps, truly, for the first time in his life?
