He had no excuse for it, but it annoyed the hell out of him.
“Oh, Emma, that looks fabulous!” Parker called out.
“It absolutely does, and I’m not nearly done.”
“Take a break. Come see what we got. We had the best time. Hey.” Laurel stopped to shoot a grin at Del. “Just in time to help haul all this stuff. And God, it’s way past time to start up the blender, because shopping’s made us thirsty for beach margaritas.”
“I was starting to get worried.” He heard the tone of his own voice, nearly winced.
“Oh, don’t fuss, Daddy. Haul.” She pushed bags at him. “Em, we found the most amazing gift shop. We have to go back!”
“You mean they have something left?” Mal wandered over to take some bags.
“I think we hit every shop within fifty miles, but we left a few things behind. Don’t look so put out.” Laurel laughed at Del. “I bought you something.”
With no choice, he carried bags upstairs. And had to stand back while the women tore into them to show off their scores.
“Why don’t we take a walk on the beach?” he asked Laurel.
“Are you kidding? I’ve walked a half a million miles. Must have margarita. Who’s in charge of the blender?” she called out.
“Got that covered.” Mal headed off to the kitchen.
Del shot Emma a look, hopeful for a little help. She merely shrugged and went back to admiring the take.
Payback, he thought.
“Here.” Laurel offered him a box. “A memento.”
Since he couldn’t beat them, Del settled down.
“A sun catcher,” she told him when he opened it. “Recycled beach glass.” She reached out to finger one of the smooth, colored shards. “I thought you might like to hang it in your place—to bring back good times.”
“It’s great.” He tapped a piece so several danced and clicked together. “It really is. Thanks.”
“I got a smaller one for my sitting room. Couldn’t resist.”
They drank margaritas, talked about dinner. He couldn’t budge her.
Patience, he reminded himself.
He managed to take his own advice until nearly sunset.
“Walk. Beach. You and me.” He grabbed her hand, pulled her toward the door.
“But we’re going to—”
“Later.”
“Pushy,” she said, but linked her fingers with his. “And God, it does feel great out here. Look at the sky. I guess I owe the beach a visit since I spent most of the day shopping.” She flicked a finger at her newest earrings. “But now I have such pretty things to remind me of these two weeks. When we’re socked in next winter, I’ll be able to look around and say, summer’s coming back.”
“I want you to be happy.”
“Right now, your wish, my command. I am happy.”
“I need to talk to you, to ask you something.”
“Sure.” She turned, walking backward to look up at the house. “Emma was right about the plants, the grasses.”
“Laurel, I need you to pay attention.”
She stopped. “All right. What’s wrong?”
“I’m not entirely sure. I need you to tell me.”
“Then nothing’s wrong.”
“Laurel.” He took both her hands. “You didn’t tell me that Linda came at you about me. About you and me.” He felt her hands go rigid in his.
“I told you I dealt with Linda. Emma had no right to—”
“Not her fault. I maneuvered it out of her. She thought you’d told me the whole story. And you should have. More, Laurel, much more, you should’ve told me you felt any part of what she said might be true. If I’ve done or said anything to make you think that way—”
“You haven’t. Let’s forget it.”
“No.” He tightened his grip when she would’ve pulled her hands free. “She hurt you, and indirectly so did I. I can’t forget I had any part in hurting you.”
“Forget it, Del. Absolved. I don’t want to talk about Linda.”
“We’re not. We’re talking you and me. Damn it, Laurel, can’t you be straight with me? Can’t we be straight with each other?”
“I am. I said it’s nothing.”
“It’s not. It’s damn well not when you get so twisted up when I offer to pay for some damn groceries. Or a cake I’ve asked you to bake. It’s not about that either, but what’s under it.”
“And I said, clearly, you don’t need to pull out your wallet. I won’t have you hiring me—”
“Laurel.” His tone, utterly reasonable, stopped her. “I never intended that. Never. And you should know. You’ve said this has to be equal ground, but it can’t be if you don’t tell me what you want, what you need, what you’re feeling.”
“How can you not know?” she demanded.
“Because you don’t tell me.”
“Tell you? All this time.You can look at me, touch me, be with me, and not know?”
She whirled away, spun back. “All right, all right. I’m responsible for my own feelings, and clearly it’s stupid for me to wait and wait and hope you might
see. You need me to tell you, I’ll tell you. Equal ground? It’s never going to be equal ground when you care about me and I’m so hopelessly in love with you. I’ve always been hopelessly in love with you, and you’ve never seen it.”
“Wait—”
“No, you want it straight?You’ll get it straight. You’re the one. You’ve always been the one. Nothing,
nothing I’ve ever done changed it. Moving to New York, working to find my way, making myself into
something I could be proud of. But it was still there. Del’s the one, and whatever I do, whatever I accomplish, I’m still missing that. Trying to feel something real and important for other men? Temporary stopgaps, or failures. Because none of them were you.”
She yanked the hair out of her face as the wind blew it into her eyes. “I couldn’t harden it out or reason it out of me, no matter how hurtful or humiliating or just plain infuriating. I dealt with it, then I changed it. I changed it, Del.”
“You’re right.” He reached out to brush the tears she rarely shed from her cheeks. “Listen—”
“I’m
not finished. I changed things, but you’re still trying, you always will try, to take
care of things. Of me. I don’t want to be your responsibility. Your obligation. Your pet. I won’t have it.”
“For God’s sake, I don’t think of you that way. I don’t feel that way. I love you.”
“Yes, you love me.You love all of us, and you had to step to the front of the line when your parents died. I know that, Del, I understand, and I
feel for you and what you had to take on. Being with you, I understand more, and I feel more.”
“It’s not about that.”
“In some ways, it’s always about that. But it’s different now, with us. Or it should be. I’m okay with the way things are—or I was. Didn’t I just tell you I was happy? What I need and want? If I have to tell you, give you a damn list, then it’s
not what I need and want. I’m not asking you for declarations. I’m not asking for promises. I can live in the moment, and be happy in the moment. I’m entitled to be hurt and upset when someone like Linda scrapes me raw. And I’m entitled to keep it to myself until I grow fresh skin. I don’t need you taking care of it. I don’t need or want you to make it all better. I don’t need you pushing at me about my feelings when I never push at you.”
“No,” he murmured, “you don’t. Why don’t you?”
“Maybe I don’t want to hear the answers. No, I don’t want to hear them,” she said before he could speak. “I don’t want to hear what you have to say when I’ve ripped myself open and I feel like a fool.You can’t expect me to. I need to walk this off. I need to pull myself together. You need to let me.You need to go away.”
He watched her run down the beach. He could go after her, he thought. He could catch her, and he could make her listen. And if he did, she wouldn’t hear him.