“Alison Marshall, what have you done to me?” He smiled, then wrapped her in his arms as though it were the most natural thing in the world, as though they’d both done this many times before.
Her lips tingled. They felt bruised, but in a good way. Uncertain how to respond to his question, she opted to remain silent. Someone, though she couldn’t recall who it was, had told her long ago that if you didn’t know an answer to a question, say nothing. To act as though you did understand only made one appear ignorant. Or something to that effect.
“So,” Kit said, “what are we going to do about this?” He nodded at her.
She responded truthfully. “I don’t know what you mean.” She remembered he was a Pulitzer Prize–winning author, so he must think her dumb as a box of rocks.
“Us. Me and you.”
“Oh, well, do we have to do something special or what? I don’t get it.” She was glad for the darkness, because she felt her face redden. Experience with men wasn’t her strongest suit.
He laughed. “I, for one, like kissing you. I like you. Maybe a little more than like,” he added.
Finally, she understood. “I liked it too. I like you back.”
“Good, then it’s settled. We like each other. I see no reason to keep our feelings secret; what about you?”
Ali’s heart was beating so fast, she prayed she didn’t suffer a heart attack right there on the beach. “I guess so,” she said. “Why does it matter?”
“I’m working on a story that probably involves you, albeit indirectly. Folks around here gossip, as you know. It doesn’t matter one bit to me, but I just want you to be okay with it if I decide to hold your hand or give you a kiss in public.”
More than okay, she wanted to tell him, but just nodded.
He leaned close to her, giving her a kiss on both cheeks, then her mouth. “Good, because I’m an affectionate kinda guy.”
He took her by the hand, and they stood up, heading back to Val’s.
Feeling as though she could speak freely, she said, “Was it just me, or do you think it odd that Val didn’t freak out when she finally found out where Renée was? I guess I thought she’d be more upset at the thought of her daughter spending the night in a juvenile home. I’m upset that she has to experience that at such a young age.”
When they reached the beach house, they stopped. “I don’t have kids, but if I did, I’d probably leave them to stew a while, too,” said Kit. “Maybe make them rethink why they didn’t follow the rules. Learn a lesson, I guess.”
She sighed as she stared out at the gulf. The rushing waves, though slight, could be heard above the night sounds. The noises of frogs, birds’ fluttering wings, and the occasional owl were a backdrop to her thoughts. She’d been in foster homes that were worse than living in juvie. “If she were my daughter, I’d be on the road to bring her home.”
“Do you want to tell this to Val? I saw the expression on your face when she decided to go to bed.”
“It’s not my place to tell her how to discipline her daughter, but it seemed out of character for her. She was upset to the point where I thought she would jump into action the second she heard any news. I’m not too sure this came as a big shock to her. As close as they are, I can’t imagine her not knowing, or at least being suspicious. I’m not convinced Renée is even having any kind of relationship with John. Val gets very uptight when his name is mentioned, not that I blame her. Maybe there is more to this than she’s telling us.”
“I’ve just met the woman, but I trust you know her well enough.”
“I just met her a couple days ago myself. For some reason, we clicked. Like we’d known each other a long time. She’s a good person, I can tell. Maybe her gift allows her to . . . I don’t know, relax now that she knows Renée is safe. Again, I’m just assuming most of this.”
“I get it. As long as the kid makes it home safely, that’s all that truly matters.” Kit placed an arm across her shoulder. He was so tall, she had to lean her head all the way back to look up at him.
“We better get back inside before whoever was at the bait shop sees us lingering on the beach this time of night,” Ali said, even though it was not what she wanted to do. She could spend all night listening to Kit or just being next to him. There was something special between them. Her question was: Was it special enough to survive a long-distance relationship?
“Let’s go,” he said, then guided her up the stairs to the deck. “You know what would be nice before we call it a night?”
Several images crossed her mind. “You tell me.”
“A drink, maybe? A glass of wine.”
“I guess,” she said, then explained, “I’m not much of a drinker, so I’d be clueless as to what kind of wine is appropriate for this time of night.”
“Whatever you like. And if it’s not your thing, have a soda,” he said. He was so unlike the few trashy dates she’d had who guzzled beer after beer, insisting she keep up with them, and then always stuck her with the tab. No more, she thought. Kit was a true gentleman.
“I’ll see what Val has open,” she said, quietly slipping into the house and opening the fridge door. Spying a bottle of white wine, she took a bottle of water for herself and found a paper cup among Val’s supply of paper goods. She poured a generous amount into the cup before returning the bottle to the fridge. She hoped Val didn’t think she was taking advantage of this unusual situation. She could replace the wine but didn’t want to imagine losing her newfound friendship.
She found Kit seated in a deck chair with a small table beside it. She set the cup down, taking the deck chair beside him. “It’s nice, huh?” she said, indicating the view.
“The best. This little strip of beach was my playground as a kid.”
Surprised, Ali asked, “Did you live in one of these houses?” Most of them looked fairly new to her, though it was possible that any of the houses could have been updated.
“It’s been torn down and remodeled. The empty place in front of yours was our land.”
“I bet it’s strange to see it all now, modern with all that glass,” she said.
“Yeah, it’s nice. Our place was old, like your cottage. If I’m not mistaken, both were built around the same time, in the early sixties. A little before our time.” He took a sip of wine. “They don’t build homes like those anymore.”
Ali nodded, then took a sip of water. “I don’t know too much about building or remodeling, even though I’ve spent plenty of time watching all those television programs that knock down dumps and rebuild mansions.” Her words sounded doltish, and she felt ignorant.
Kit laughed. “I like how succinct you are. Don’t see many women like you,” he said, still smiling so she didn’t take too much offense to his words.
“It’s a good thing, right?” She just needed to confirm he wasn’t making fun of her. Ali wouldn’t be able to stand it if he were. She wanted him in her life. Never having had such sudden feelings for a man, she felt utterly and completely vulnerable.