style="font-size:15px;"> Did that mean she was still here or did she come and go as she pleased? What if she arrived now and found Abi sitting at her kitchen bench? Abi had assumed from Damien’s comments that he was single but had she chosen to believe that? Wanted to believe that? Had he encouraged her to think that?
‘Whose robe am I wearing?’
‘Not hers.’
She didn’t want to ask the next question. If it wasn’t Brooke’s, who did it belong too? She didn’t want to know. She had already been told more than she wanted to hear.
‘Does she still have a key?’
‘Yes.’
‘How could you bring me here if she still has access? What if she walks in?’ Even though nothing had happened between them Abi felt completely stupid. She should have stuck to her guns, not just fallen in with Damien’s wishes. Why hadn’t she resisted him? What had happened to the Abi who’d used to be so independent minded and strong? Since Afghanistan it seemed as if her reason and logic had deserted her. Had Mark’s lies and deceit shaken her confidence so much that now she didn’t trust herself to make good choices? Was she so eager for company, so lonely that she would forsake her principles and blindly follow where someone else led?
She needed to consider her motives. Why had she agreed to come home with him? Was it because she hadn’t felt safe to stay home alone or was it because she found him attractive? Had she been thinking with her hormones or her head? She couldn’t afford to think with her hormones. Danger lay down that path. It had got her into trouble before. She needed to be calm, methodical, rational. She needed to make measured decisions and sound judgements. She couldn’t jump into something without consideration of her own motives or his. She didn’t want to get into the middle of something.
‘Abi, Brooke is in New York, she’s not about to walk in and find you here, and this isn’t her house anymore. She doesn’t live here.’ His voice was calm and patient. ‘She’s just storing some of her stuff here. She has far too many clothes and hasn’t been able to take them all with her. They’re in the spare room. She’s my ex-wife, we’re divorced. What I do is none of her business as long as it’s not hurting Summer.’
‘Well, I’m still not wearing her clothes.’
‘Fair enough. I didn’t suggest that you should.’
He was right. It had been Summer’s suggestion. She had bitten his head off for no reason. But was it for no reason? She only had his word for what the situation was. How did she know he was telling the truth? She didn’t have a good track record when it came to picking trustworthy men. Once again, this could just be a case of a man telling her what he thought she wanted to hear.
She wasn’t sure but did it matter?
It shouldn’t matter to her what the situation was between Damien and his ex-wife. She hadn’t done anything to regret yet but she wouldn’t apologise, just in case. And she wouldn’t spend the day with them. It would be best if she put some distance between her and them. She couldn’t afford to get involved.
She took her empty plate to the sink. ‘I’ll call a cab,’ she said. ‘I need to go home.’
‘I’ll take you. It’s only two blocks. Summer and I can wait for you to get changed and then you’re welcome to spend the day with us if you’d like to.’
‘No, I can’t. I really do need to go home and organise to get my windows fixed.’
‘I’ll take care of that,’ he offered. ‘I’d like your company.’
Abi hesitated.
‘Say yes because if you don’t you can tell Summer why you’re not joining us,’ Damien added as his daughter opened the back door to step inside.
‘What are we going to do?’ Summer asked.
Abi looked at Damien. She could see the challenge in his eyes, daring her to join them. But she didn’t know if she could.
‘You get to choose where we go,’ he told her, and his voice was quiet, reassuring. ‘You can choose somewhere you’ll feel comfortable.’
Could she do this?
She realised with surprise that she wanted to. What was the harm in making a spontaneous decision? She used to do that all the time but since Mark’s death she’d felt constrained by her fear. She had to remember that bad things didn’t always happen, things didn’t always go wrong. But where should they go?
Somewhere outside, she thought. Being winter, an outside venue was unlikely to be crowded, especially if they went early. ‘Maybe we could walk to the Santa Monica Pier,’ she suggested.
‘Walk to the pier? Nobody walks in LA,’ Damien teased.
Abi relaxed as Damien messed about. It felt good not to over think things for a change, not to worry about every decision. She took a deep breath; she could do this.
‘The exercise will do us good,’ she said, hoping that Damien didn’t suggest that she walk and he’d meet her there. She really didn’t want to walk to the pier on her own. She had set walks that she took Jonty on, streets she knew, past houses she was familiar with. And she didn’t want to walk to the pier without Damien. He made her feel safe. She was pretty sure that Summer would choose to go with Jonty, which meant that Damien would choose to go with Summer. At least, she hoped she would.
‘Can I hold Jonty’s lead?’ Summer asked.
‘Of course.’
Abi smiled at Damien, pleased to get her own way, and he laughed. ‘Why did I bother arguing against two women?’
‘We’ll compromise,’ Abi said. ‘Let’s drive down past the Beach House and walk half the distance to the pier. That’s only about a mile each way.’
Damien and Summer drove Abi home and while he waited for her to change he organised a glazier to do the repair work later in the day. Abi was used to managing on her own but she had to admit she liked the feeling of having someone else to look out for her. She didn’t feel as if she’d been doing such a great job of taking care of herself of late.
Damien drove them to the Annenberg Beach House, where they piled out of the car to walk to the pier. Summer walked next to Abi, holding Jonty’s lead with one hand and Abi’s hand with the other. Her hand was tiny and warm and Abi could feel herself becoming more enthralled with Summer and the idea of motherhood. That was something she’d always had mixed feelings about because of her own childhood. She wasn’t sure if she had the right genetic make-up for parenthood. Both of her parents were screw-ups and while she would love a chance to have a family of her own, one that wouldn’t leave her, she had always had a fear that maybe she wouldn’t cope either, just like her parents hadn’t. But Summer was gorgeous and Abi could feel a tug on her heartstrings as the little girl skipped along beside her, keeping up a one-way conversation with Jonty.
Even walking at the pace of a five-year-old and with a dog who liked to stop and sniff everything in his path, they still made it to the pier just as it opened, which meant, to Abi’s relief, that they had beaten the crowds.
‘Where to first?’ Damien asked.
‘The
