The Summer House (10 page)

“I seem to have inadvertently hit a hot button.”

“The general public sees my profession as a downer, the butt of jokes. I’ll admit that I see the worst part of a relationship—the bitter end.”

“Your profession isn’t a downer.”

“Nice of you to say that. But it’s my job to make
sure the other guy gives up as much as possible. Sometimes it goes easy, sometimes not and I get a lottery of billable hours. In a divorce situation, I’m the only winner.”

“If you really believe that, why did you go into divorce law?”

“My dad once told me there are three things you can count on in life. Death, taxes and relationship meltdown.”

“So you specialized in divorces for the money?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I wanted to prevent people like my dad being taken to the cleaners. Mom got the house, the duplex here at the beach and pretty much all of the terms she wanted as part of her divorce settlement. Since then, I’ve lost track of how many times Mom and Dad have remarried and divorced. He made the remark recently that he would never have anything as long as he was with a woman.”

“Did you tell him he should pick someone his own age with similar interests who can tolerate his penchant for self-absorption?” she asked sweetly.

“It never occurred to me.” Although it was damn good advice. Obviously she knew a thing or two about his father.

“First, it doesn’t take a mental giant to see why you picked the law specialty you did. You’re trying to save your family over and over again—with every client you represent.”

He laughed. “Oh, please.”

“Think about it,” she said. “Every man or woman who hires you becomes your mother or father and you’re trying to protect them.”

“Way too noble, not to mention just plain weird.
And for God’s sake, don’t make me out to be more than I am.”

“I’m not going to argue with you. It’s irrelevant to my point, and I do have one. I sense that you’re no longer getting satisfaction from your profession.”

“I take satisfaction from the fact that I’m good at what I do. I know the law. What’s that saying? You have to know the rules before you can break them.”

“You break the law?” she asked.

“Of course not. I manipulate it. I’m committed to doing the best I can for my client. I like the challenge, the give-and-take battle. It’s like a chess game—move and countermove. When I win, it’s exhilarating.”

“I’m guessing you win often or they wouldn’t be offering you a partnership.” She stopped walking suddenly and turned to him. “You’re not thinking of turning it down, are you?”

“I’m not stupid,” he said wryly. He stuck his hands in his pockets and they started walking again. “The offer felt like a turning point for me and seemed to stimulate some personal reflection. I just thought there would be more.”

“Are we talking professionally or personally?”

“Take your pick.”

Looking straight ahead, she said, “I can’t comment on your personal life, but in case you’re having a crisis of conscience about what you do for a living, rest assured it’s very necessary. You’re the rose between two thorns.”

“I’m not especially comfortable being compared to a rose, but thanks. I guess.”

“Think about it. Two people on opposite sides, warring. Prickly. The thorns. At such a volatile time, a couple needs someone objective, someone with a
clear head. The rose,” she said. “Divorce is an unfortunate and ugly fact of life. Your skill is essential, especially when there are children involved.”

“I’m a well-paid referee.”

“No. Expert representation. You said yourself that you know the law. I wouldn’t call it manipulation that you’re aware of every protection it provides.”

He glanced at her until she met his gaze. “What happened to the whole ‘lawyers as bottom feeders’ thing?”

“I was kidding.”

“Okay. I guess I didn’t recognize it, because who knew Florence Nightingale had such a sarcastic sense of humor.”

“Oh puhleeze. I’m no Florence N.”

“But you are a nurse. I admire what you do. Working to make sick people better. I bet you’re very good at it.”

“Easy for you to say. You already know I was offered a job that’s a big step up.”

“Yeah, but knowing you, I feel they’ve chosen wisely.”

“Since when are you a shameless flatterer?”

“The truth is never shameless nor is it flattery.”

“We’re supposed to be talking about you,” she said. “So how’s your love life?”

“That was blunt.”

“No, merely curious. You’re here to evaluate your life, and there’s more to it than work. Since we already talked about the work portion, there’s still the other part.”

“Time flies when you’re having fun.” He pointed to the rock formation they’d seen from far away that now seemed to appear out of nowhere to signal he
was off the hook. “How fortuitous I don’t have to talk about myself anymore. But speaking of love life…I seem to remember Dan telling me you’re engaged.”

All too well Kyle recalled his reaction to the news. He’d felt as if his best friend had sucker punched him. Stupid really, because he and Cassie would never be a twosome. Her brother had made that clear a long time ago. If Kyle asked Cassie out, his friendship with Dan was over.

At the time, the choice had been a no-brainer. Dan was the best friend he’d ever had, the one who was always there for him, the one he could count on above everyone else—including his own parents. Kyle couldn’t chance having no one. After that, whenever he saw Cassie, he ignored her. Over the years, it had become harder to do that. She’d changed from a plain, skinny girl into a beautiful woman—inside and out.

“When’s the wedding?” he prompted.

“When hell freezes over.”

“Don’t sugarcoat it, Cass. Tell me how you really feel.”

“We broke up.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Interesting how the rules change when you’re on the psychiatrist’s couch,” he commented.

“I’m not the one who’s here to evaluate my life. I’m the one who’s here to spend time with her best friend who found something better to do and stood her up.”

“So you’re between significant others?”

“I’ll tell you about mine if you tell me about yours,” she offered.

“I don’t have one.”

“Me, either.”

Kyle didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he was forced to suck air into his lungs. And the strange feeling that boulders the size of Texas were lifted from his shoulders—was that relief?

“You expect me to believe you’re not involved with someone?” she asked.

“I don’t expect anything. It’s the truth.”

“You always have a Barbie, Bambi or Brandi with an
i
in your life. Come to think of it, I thought Dan said
you
were engaged.”

“I was. I came to my senses and broke it off.”

“Cold feet?”

“Yeah.” He glanced at her. “You look surprised. Is it that I had cold feet or because I was engaged?”

She shook her head. “I’m shocked you
admitted
to cold feet. Although, I don’t know why I should be. It’s not a stretch. Everyone knows you’re commitment phobic.”

“Is that so?”

“I’ve heard through the grapevine—aka Dan Brightwell—that you’ve told more than one aspiring Mrs. Kyle Stratton not to expect more than a physical relationship. And I never saw you bring the same woman around twice.”

“Twice implies a pledge to the future.”

“I rest my case. You don’t want to get married.”

Odd, he didn’t mind talking to her about all this. Maybe because she knew his history. She’d been there through the ups and downs. Or maybe it was because she was
safe.

“It’s not marriage I object to. It’s the divorce when it doesn’t work out. I don’t want to end up broke like
my old man, or going through the relationship revolving door like Mom.”

“What about kids?”

“What about them?”

“Don’t you like children?” she asked.

“I like them very much.”

“Me, too. I can’t imagine my life without children.”

“In spite of being the forgotten middle child? Even after what your sister Megan went through with Bayleigh?”

“The problem with Bayleigh’s eyes isn’t genetic. And, by the way she’s doing fine since her transplant. But that isn’t the point. Megan loved her daughter’s father and the guy walked out on her because of Bayleigh’s health problems. But she wouldn’t change anything if it meant not having her child. I want to be a mom more than anything.”

And she would make a wonderful mother, he thought. All she had to do was pick the right man. He recalled offering to bring Bayleigh’s father back and make him pay support. Dan had suggested a well-placed fist, but Megan had nixed all the ideas. She’d said the jerk was being punished enough. He was missing out on a relationship with his daughter and the privilege of watching her grow up.

Kyle looked at Cassie. “Would you still want to be a mom if you had to raise the child alone like Megan’s doing?”

“It’s not my first choice. What about you? How would you feel about raising a child alone?”

“What you really want to know is if I want to have any kids—period. And the answer is no.”

Cassie couldn’t have looked more shocked if he’d
dropped his shorts and hollered, “Nude beach.” “Don’t you feel the need to have a child to carry on the Stratton name?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

He stopped walking and picked up a smooth stone, then tossed it sidearm into the ocean. “It should be obvious to someone who’s known me as long as you have.”

“I’m slow. Spell it out for me,” she said, hands on hips.

“Okay. You always complained about being the forgotten middle child—not the oldest or the youngest. The one in the middle who wasn’t special in any way.”

“Yeah. So?”

“I was just forgotten. My parents were too busy separating, dating, marrying, divorcing and separating—not necessarily in that order—to give a damn about me. Don’t you remember that Christmas Dan brought me home from school with him because they each thought I was with the other one and they were both out of the country?”

“I remember him bringing you home. I don’t know if I knew why.” She met his gaze. “You need to take a page from Megan’s book. It was your parents’ loss.”

Debatable, he thought. “After that, I spent most holidays with your family.” He studied her, the clouds in her eyes blocking out the earlier brightness.

“Is there a point to this trip down memory lane? Other than whining? In case you didn’t recognize it just now, that was tough love.”

“Is that how you help your patients?”

“If that’s what they need,” she answered.

“That wasn’t whining, merely an explanation for why I wouldn’t be a good parent. I pity any kid who got me for a father. He’d best be prepared to raise himself.”

“That’s ridiculous. I’ve seen you with Bayleigh. You’re wonderful with her.”

“It’s easy to look good on a short-term basis. But twenty-four seven?” He shook his head. “It doesn’t take a Ph.D. in child rearing to know the seeds of parenting are sown in childhood. Based on that, I have no training. My folks were never around.”

“Then it’s a good thing you spent a lot of time at my house, hanging out with Dan,” she added.

“He’s my best friend. I’d do anything for Dan.”

“Including being a mercy escort for his little sister so the two of you could double-date?”

He knew right away what she was referring to. About ten years ago, Kyle and Dan had been home from college. Their alma mater was in the football playoffs. Dan had a date for the game and wanted Kyle to ask someone. He’d come up empty on such short notice and the two of them had talked Cassie into going along. It had been one of the best nights he could remember.

“It wasn’t a mercy date,” he said.

“Then why didn’t you call me again?”

U
nder normal circumstances, Cassie would have wanted to disappear after saying something so bold. But this was the new-and-improved Cassie, the one determined to not have any regrets. She wasn’t exactly sure how his aversion to having children had segued into her question, but she refused to regret it.

In her head, she understood his reasons were firmly rooted in his unstable childhood environment. In her heart, the idea of Kyle all alone made her inexplicably sad. If she couldn’t have kids, she knew there would be a hole the size of the Grand Canyon in her life.

She’d always thought the instinct to procreate irrepressible. Of course with Kyle it was all about sex. She’d heard her brother say more than once Kyle was a playboy. When he got what he wanted from a woman, he walked away. That’s what had prompted
her question. He hadn’t gotten anything from her and maybe it was time to find out why.

Why didn’t you call me again?

Or maybe it was time to head into the sun. She did an abrupt about-face. “I have to go back now. Feel free to keep going in the other direction,” she called over her shoulder. “Smooth, Brightwell,” she muttered to herself.

“A gentleman always escorts a lady home.” Kyle fell into step beside her.

“Really? And where did the man raised by wolves learn that?” She hoped that would distract him from her last question.

He squinted into the sun as he thought. “From my father actually.”

“So he was around at least once.”

“Apparently.” He took her arm to steady her as she stumbled over a rock half-submerged in the sand. “Are you sure I never called you?”

“Positive. And I distinctly remember you promised to.”

She’d stayed home waiting for his call, certain it would happen the next day. It didn’t. After that, she’d slept with the phone, eaten with it as her companion, studied with it staring at her. She even took it with her when she showered. Her mother joked about having it surgically removed from her hand and the behavior had continued for a month or more. Until Dan had let it slip that Kyle was dating yet another girl he’d met in college. A regular Casanova. And the news had broken Cassie’s eighteen-year-old heart. Oh, yeah, she was sure he’d never called.

He looked down at her and reached over to remove a strand of hair from her eyes and tuck it behind her
ear. “It was important to keep my grades up to get in to law school. I must have been busy studying.”

“I bet you were. Female anatomy.”

Frowning, Kyle stuck his hands in his pockets. “It was for the best, Cass.”

He didn’t even bother to deny it one more time. She should have let it drop. There wasn’t a decent reason to put herself through this. Then she realized that was wrong. She had a very good reason. The question hadn’t come out of nowhere. She’d always wondered. One of her most profound regrets was that she’d never confronted him about it. After her disastrous romance in Phoenix, she’d promised herself a new start in California. That included no more regrets.

“Whose best was it for?” Certainly not hers. She would always wonder what might have been. “I asked Dan about it and he wouldn’t say anything.”

“I’m not the kind of guy your bro—Your family wouldn’t want you to get mixed up with someone like me.”

Pressure started in her chest and grew to an ache deep inside her. He’d all but admitted he’d ignored her on purpose, which put her smack dab in the emotional abyss she’d experienced ten years ago.

And who was he to decide what her family wanted? Her mother and father thought he walked on water. Megan was half in love with him and Dan was his best friend. Which Brightwell didn’t want her involved with him?

“Oh, really. You make a decent living, you’re not bad looking, and you have an above-average trendy car. What’s not to like?”

“You deserve someone better, Cass.”

“Isn’t that for me to decide?” Although her last choice hadn’t been especially smart.

“We don’t always know what’s best for us.”

Then a worse thought occurred to her. She’d always felt she and Kyle had connected on that date all those years ago. Instinct had told her they’d gone a step above friendship before he’d pulled back. But maybe he was a good actor. Maybe the whole evening had been tedious and he was embarrassed to be seen in public with her. Maybe he didn’t want to come right out and say he couldn’t care about her if she was the last woman on earth. Maybe he was trying not to hurt her feelings. If so, she needed to know. She’d already wasted enough of her life mooning over Kyle. It was past time for a booster shot.

“Did you want to call me or not?” she asked.

He glanced down at her, then to his left, and pointed to the large rock formation they passed for the second time. “As per our previous verbal contract, I am no longer obligated to talk about me.”

It wasn’t just about him. And now that she’d raised the question, she felt as if she couldn’t drop it. She also sensed she wasn’t going to get an answer. At least not now.

“Very slick, Counselor. Have it your way. In fact I don’t want to talk about you anymore. You’re pretty boring.”

“No kidding.” He laughed.

“I wasn’t joking.”

An uneasy silence slipped over them as they walked along the shore. They were almost back to their starting place when a particularly large wave broke and rushed up, catching Cassie off guard. It
washed over her feet and wet her sweatpants to the knee.

“Mercy, that’s cold,” she shrieked, pulling the elastic hem up. “My ankles hurt.”

“Wimp.”

“Them’s fightin’ words.” She was still miffed about the way he’d shut down and refused to talk. Raising her hands, she curled her fingers into fists, then bobbed and weaved in front of him.

Without warning, Kyle scooped her up in his arms. “I don’t have to fight. All I have to do is throw you in the ocean. And I can because I’m bigger.”

“You wouldn’t.” All the same, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held on, meeting his amused gaze. “If I go in, so do you.”

“Is that a dare?”

“What if it is?”

“I never could resist a dare.”

She leaned to the side, looked at the water and back up at him. “Then, of course it isn’t a dare. Now put me down, please.”

“As the lady wishes.” He made a sudden move as if he was going to drop her.

She squealed and gripped him tighter. “You are going to hell, Kyle Stratton. Now put me down.”

She’d never meant anything less. If she’d known it felt so good to be in his arms, she’d have let him throw her in the ocean a long time ago. Over and over. Just for the brief pleasure of having him hold her. She was so pathetic.

“I suppose down means dry land?” he asked.

“Please,” she managed to say.

“Spoilsport,” he mumbled as he set her on her feet and held on to her arm until she was steady.

The touch of his fingers on her bare skin scorched her clear down to her soul. If she ever saw his mother, she would be sure
not
to thank her for sending him here. Her intention to spend time at the summer house hadn’t included a painful trip down memory lane. She was angry with him, but more annoyed with herself for bringing it up in the first place.

“It’s time I was getting back,” she said.

“Got a hot date?”

She laughed. “I just moved back. I don’t work as fast as the legendary Kyle Stratton.”

“I’m not fast.”

“That’s not what I heard,” she scoffed. “For you and my brother the duplex is like seduction central.”

They trudged back through the sand to the sidewalk and headed up Linden Avenue.

“What have you heard?”

“Rumor has it that within minutes of meeting a woman, you can charm a phone number and a date, usually at your place, where seduction and dinner, not necessarily in that order, soon follow.”

“Dan’s lying.”

“About him or you? I’m curious about the step-by-step process you guys use to get from point A to point B with a woman.”

He slid her a wry look. “I’m not going to dignify that statement with a response. Suffice it to say tales of my—our—exploits are grossly exaggerated.”

“And I’m not going to dignify that with a retort.”

Thank goodness, they were finally back. At the bottom of the duplex stairs, Cassie tried to stomp the sand from her feet, but it was wet and sticky. Not wanting to track it inside, she grabbed the hose and turned on the water to rinse her feet.

“Hey, I need some of that, too,” Kyle said, glancing down.

Cassie looked at the hose, then at him, and couldn’t resist. She turned up the water, then aimed the nozzle in his direction, soaking him.

“Hey!” he cried, holding up his hands. “That’s cold!”

“You said you needed some cold water.”

Not that a cooling off from time spent with her was necessary. Apparently she was eminently resistible and the only one whose body temperature urgently needed lowering. She leveled the stream of water at his face.

He put his hands up. “I’m warning you, Cass—”

“Devil made me do it,” she said, backing away as he took a step toward her.

He lunged forward. Battling past the spray, he easily wrestled the hose away from her, dousing her from head to toe in retaliation.

“Uncle,” she cried, turning her back. “I give up.”

“Loser has to fix dinner.”

She glanced over her shoulder. He was shutting off the water, so she pivoted toward him. “Are you implying there was some sort of contest to which I admitted defeat and now I have to pay up?”

“Yeah.”

He straightened and she stood in front of him, squeezing the excess water out of her sopping ponytail. “First of all, I’m not a loser. I simply decided to stop fighting. Second, when there’s a wager, it has to be verbalized ahead of time. I didn’t invite you to dinner.”

“Then let me invite myself.”

“Okay.” She was so pathetically easy. But this was also an opportunity. “But there are conditions.”

“Name them.”

“Only two. The first, we keep it simple. Barbecue steaks and throw together a salad?”

“Done.”

“Second, you provide a simple demonstration of the Stratton seduction style—how you get from point A to point B with a woman.”

He shook his head and droplets of water sparkled like diamonds in his dark hair then fell on his already soaked shirt. If there was a male wet-T-shirt contest, he would win hands down. The impressive muscles of his chest and harnessed strength in his upper arms were clearly outlined.

“Uh-uh. No way.”

Cassie’s cheeks burned. Humiliation wasn’t any easier now than it had been all those years ago. But this time she had maturity on her side and wasn’t willing to roll over and forget it. This was the new Cassie who didn’t want to wake up tomorrow and be sorry she hadn’t pushed the advantage when she’d had it. She’d opened a can of worms with her question. Maybe because it was time to settle the past before she could embrace her future. Bottom line—she wanted to know what she’d missed out on.

“I’m not saying go all the way,” she explained, squeezing the water out of her sweatshirt to hide the fact that in spite of her resolve, her hands were shaking nervously. “Just set the mood and tell me what you would do.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “Curiosity. I’d like to know what
you would do—
if
you were attempting to seduce me.”

“If I refuse, does that mean you won’t feed me?” he asked, raising one dark eyebrow.

“Yes.” She wrung out the hem of her T-shirt, to minimize her dripping. Then she walked up the stairs and wiped her bare feet on the welcome mat.

The duplex had a single outside door that opened into a shared foyer. The Brightwell unit was to the right and Kyle’s to the left. Cassie let herself in and Kyle followed. She unlocked her unit and opened the door. Instantly the overpowering smell of paint hit her and she coughed then waved her hand in front of her face.

“You need to open the windows and air out the place,” Kyle told her.

“You think? Thanks for the tip. That would never have occurred to me,” she said.

“Looks like you’re going to have to pay that bet off at my place,” he said.

“It wasn’t a bet. And I’d be happy to have dinner at your place.” She smiled up at him. “And may I say, nice move. It’s just like Dan said. Within minutes, phone number and dinner at your place. So begins Seduction 101.”

“Only dinner. A man has to eat. No seduction.”

Cassie chose to ignore him. “I’ll clean up, air out my place, and be back with the stuff for dinner.”

Anticipation coursing through her, she turned away from him. Where were the stiletto heels and little black dress when you really needed them?

“This is a fine mess,” Kyle muttered to himself.

Cassie would be there any minute and he hoped
her request for a play-by-play on seduction had been forgotten or was nothing more than a joke, because he had a big problem.

From the moment he’d seen her again, in cutoffs, tank top and paint, he’d wanted her in his bed. Walking along the beach with her had been like a stroll down memory lane with his security blanket. It should have put her firmly back in honorary little sister status, but instead had only cranked up his need. Why
hadn’t
he called her again?

He’d fought the urge for weeks after taking her to that football game. She’d been fun and funny. For the first time he’d seen her as more than Dan’s little sister and he’d felt it could be the start of something big. Until Dan’s ultimatum. Losing the friendship wasn’t an option—not then, not now.

But seeing Cassie again and hearing her question had stirred up memories, had increased his simmering dissatisfaction. She’d said it herself—he wasn’t bad-looking, had a good job, a car, and there was no shortage of women. So why did he feel as if his life was empty, that there should be so much more? The look on her face—in her eyes—when she’d asked why he’d never called her again had made him want to fold her in his arms. The expression was familiar. In the divorce wars one person was nearly always hurt because they loved more. Cassie had the look, a loss of innocence in her eyes, a bruised air as if someone had beaten down her soul. No question about it. Someone had damaged her. The idea of anyone hurting her made him furious. And she’d refused to tell him about her broken engagement, so he had a pretty good idea who. If he ever got his hands on the guy…