Read Beside a Dreamswept Sea Online

Authors: Vicki Hinze

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #General, #Paranormal

Beside a Dreamswept Sea (32 page)

She’d been afraid Suzie would dream.

His heart turned over in his chest. He walked down the dimly lit hallway. A night-light burned in the bath and spilled a soft circle of yellow over the floor. “Cally?”

She looked up at him, and her expression closed. “I thought you were sleeping.”

He dropped to sit down beside her. “Couldn’t.”

“Is your knee hurting?”

“Yes, but that’s not why I couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh?” She pulled the pillow out from behind her back and pressed it over her stomach, as if needing a barrier between them.

Seeing that gave Bryce the confidence he needed. “I was missing you.”

Surprise flittered over her face. She masked it. “I’m only doing what I think is best for all of us, Bryce.” She looked up at him, let him see the pain in her eyes. “I know it seems cruel, but I don’t know what else to do. You and the kids are a family.”

“And we’ll leave, and you’ll miss us?” He didn’t dare to hope it. Didn’t dare. Not without having confirmation, regardless of what Tony had said.

She stared at him for a long moment, clearly debating lying to him.

“Please.” He touched a hand to her bent knee. “Tell me the truth. I need the truth.”

“Yes,” she whispered on a strained sigh. “I’ll miss you.”

Relief scudded through him, kicked against his ribs, exploded in his lungs. “What if I made a suggestion that would mean you wouldn’t have to miss us, and we wouldn’t have to miss you? Would you be willing to at least hear me out?”

“I guess so.”

Not enthusiastic, but not without curiosity. Knowing the woman loved mysteries was coming in handy. And he’d settle for curiosity. “I have three kids who need a mother desperately.”

Leave out the love stuff, Bryce. Don’t mention it or she’ll
run so far and so fast you’ll choke to death on her dust.

I know, Tony. I know. Now, beat it. This is private.

All right. But don’t muck it up.

I’ll do my best.

Pacing a short path up and down the hall, Bryce went on. “You’ve got no kids and, unless I’ve misread you, you want them.”

She pressed her lips together tightly, and a furrow formed between her eyebrows. “You know I want to be the sunshine of my own home, Bryce. We’ve talked about that many times, sitting right here.”

“I know.” He stopped beside her, then waited for her to look up at him. “It seems to me I have something you want, and you have something I want. Kids.”

“What exactly are you suggesting?”

He swallowed hard. “I’m asking you to marry me, Cally.”

“What?” Her mouth rounded then dropped open.

“Shh, you’ll wake Suzie.” Good grief, she couldn’t be that stunned. He studied her wide eyes, her lax jaw. Well, evidently she could. Gregory. How could Bryce have forgotten the effects the man had had on her?

“Well, excuse me, Counselor. I just didn’t expect a proposal from a man in love with another woman. This has to be the most asinine thing I’ve ever heard of in my entire life.”

“Why?”

“Why?” She turned a frown on him, then held it. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Well, for starters, you’re in love with your dead wife and I’m never going to love a man again as long as I live. Marriage is kind of intimate, you know? Going into it with love is hard enough, but without it, it’d be hell.”

“Would it?” Bryce leaned a shoulder against the wall, and lowered his voice to a serious whisper. “Look, we loved and we got hurt. I’ve thought about this a lot, Cally. My marriage wasn’t great. It wasn’t even good. And I wasn’t content. But I did love the woman and, as best she was able, she loved me. Like you with Gregory, love just wasn’t enough.”

“No, it wasn’t. And if love, with all its power, didn’t make the cut, what in the world would come of a marriage without it?”

“A lot less pain. We both have needs and wants and they’re compatible. We both love the kids. We like each other. We can talk. And on the physical side, well, I liked our kisses. I’m sure making love—”

“Sex,” she corrected him, her voice hard and snappy. “It’d be sex, Bryce. We don’t love each other.”

“Okay, then. I’m sure sex would be great between us. You appeal to me, Cally. Do I appeal to you?”

“You know you do.” She crushed the pillow to her stomach. “That’s not the point.”

“What is the point?”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m not sure. I’m confused.” She looked up at him, all her misgivings there in her eyes. “But there is a point, Bryce. I know there is. I’m thinking big defeats.”

He stroked her cheek, her chin. “Think little victories instead. And don’t be upset. Please. I hate your being upset. It makes me sad.”

She turned her face into his hand. “It’s a marriage of convenience we’re talking about here. That’s it.”

“What’s wrong with that? They’ve been done for centuries.”

“And a lot of the people in them were miserable.”

“But they weren’t typically choosing for themselves. We are. That’s a big difference, Cally.” She was weakening. The idea was growing on her; the stiffness was leaving her shoulders, her expression. “Think about it, okay? I want to marry you. I know in my heart you’d be a good mother to my kids and a good wife to me. I can’t love you—I’ll never be able to love you. But I promise I’ll be good to you and do all I can to make sure you’re content.”

She stilled for a long moment, then a soft light glistened in her eyes. “Will you promise me fidelity and honesty?”

Gregory’s affair. His getting remarried to Joleen so soon after his divorce from Cally was final. “I will.”

“And you’ll never side against me with the M and M’s? Parents putting on a united front makes kids feel secure. I won’t have insecure kids, Bryce.”

“I won’t side against you.”

“And we forbid the use of that word ‘stepparent.’ I’m not saying I agree to this, but if I do, I’ll never permit that word to be spoken in our home.” She shrugged. “That yours-and-mine attitude causes a lot of problems between parents, and a lot of nightmares for kids. I won’t have any of that, either.”

“Sounds reasonable. In everyone’s best interests.”

“I won’t love you either, Bryce. I just don’t have that left to give a man now. But I’d be good to you. I care. I really do. But it can’t be love. Not even fifty years from now. So you can’t ever expect it.”

“I understand. Same here.”

“And you mustn’t think you can’t talk about Meriam. You can. But I won’t have you comparing us, or flaunting her in my face.”

He smiled. “Cally, that sounded positively courageous.”

She looked surprised, then her mouth settled into a smile. “Yeah, it did, didn’t it?”

He nodded. “How did it feel?”

She hiked a shoulder. “Pretty damn good.”

He laughed softly. “So will you think about it?”

“Yes, I will.” She cocked her head. “And you think about it too, because if we do this, it’s permanent. I can’t go through another divorce. Not even when the kids are grown and you don’t need me anymore.”

He’d always need her. Always. And if he’d doubted that before walking into the hall tonight, he’d never doubt it again. But he’d live his life without once telling her. This very conversation forbade him the privilege of ever telling her. “No divorce. I’ll draft it up as a term in our contract.”

“Do we need to put it in writing?”

“I trust you, but I’m a lawyer, honey. Everything gets put in writing.”

“Not everything.” She stroked his beard. It rustled softly and her voice went husky thick. “Your proposal didn’t.”

Her lips parted, and an intense, low beam of desire whirled in his stomach. “I thought a proposal needed a more personal touch than a formal written agreement.”

“I think so, too. Still, you lawyer types do love your agreements official, and we don’t have a formal proposal contract.”

“What’s your point, Miss Tate?” Playful. He rather liked seeing Cally playful, her eyes shining mischief.

“We need some kind of signature on the dotted line to assure you this proposal is getting serious consideration.”

He swallowed his surprise, but his heart started a hard, slow beat. So she wouldn’t hear its thumps, he ruffled his beard. “Sounds reasonable. What do you suggest?”

Her lids dropped a notch and a sexy little puff of air escaped from between her lips. “A kiss.”

With a grunt of pleasure he couldn’t hide, he lowered his lips to hers. She’d think about it. For now, that was enough. She needed time to weigh the matter and, unless God was napping, she’d agree. Eventually.

Entice her, man.

Bryce internally grumbled, irritated at the interruption.
Out, Tony. Now.

I was just trying to help.

Out.

Color me gone.

Smiling at the pout in Tony’s voice, Bryce put his heart and soul into the kiss. He couldn’t give Cally the words, could never give her the words, but he could let her know that he cared, and show her his love. And he could pray that letting her know and showing her would be enough and she’d be content. It’d worked for Tony and Hattie for years, so it could be done. Bryce dared to believe it could be done again. For them.

And, in their kiss, he dared to dream.

Chapter 11
 

Dawn.

That special moment of time where the brink of a new day promises rebirth and renewal. A day where anything is possible, plausible, just waiting for its witnesses to decide whether to leap on it and cherish its treasures, or to idly watch its opportunities and possibilities come and go unrealized.

Before coming to Seascape Inn, Cally never would have believed that potential and those opportunities in dawn’s promise could include her. Now, today, she permitted herself the luxury of wondering if they might.

She looked down the legs of her jeans to nudge at a pebble with the toe of her sneaker, hunched her shoulders inside her jacket against the early morning chill. Tendrils of mist clung to the sky, ribboning through the clouds and hovering above the granite cliffs like party streamers. The constant ebb and flow of the ocean usually soothed her. But feeling as if dawn’s promises might include her had her agitated and unsure, afraid to hope that they might because if she did, and they didn’t, then she’d once again set herself up for a major disappointment.

At the tree line, a deer peered out of the thick clump of spruce. It looked frightened to see her there; as frightened as she felt inside. Not wanting to intrude—this was the deer’s turf, not hers—she turned away, crossed the dew-slick cliffs to the stone steps, walked down them to Main Street, then headed toward the village, kicking at pebbles, patches of dry, brittle grass, little hills of windswept sand.

Confused and weary of challenges, she wanted dawn’s promise. Wanted life to make sense again. It’d been a long time since life just had made sense.

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