guy, Marnie.”
She snorted. “And the sea’s made of cherry swirl ice cream.”
He began to laugh. “It took me a whole box of Kleenex to clean off my car. Do you always mix your flavors?”
If his smile was sexy, his laugh was dynamite. “Always,” she said. “Life’s too short to play it safe.”
Her words hung in the air between them. “So you believe that, too, do you?” Cal said. “Is that how Kit was conceived?”
Her smile died. “It always comes back to that, doesn’t it?”
“You know what keeps throwing me?” he said with underlying violence. “You look so like Kit and yet you don’t. You’re a woman, where Kit’s hovering between child and adolescent. You’ve suffered—don’t think I can’t see that—and it’s given you a beauty that’s been tested. A beauty that’s far more than a question of good bones, skin like silk, eyes as blue as the sea.” His gaze raked her from head to foot. “Along with legs that go on forever and a body that could drive a man crazy…” Running his fingers through his hair, he finished explosively, “Dammit, I never meant to say any of this! But there’s something about you that takes all the rules and turfs them out the window.”
Frightened out of her wits, Marnie blurted, “If you have rules, so do I. We can’t afford to forget them, either one of us, because of your daughter. Your daughter and mine.”
“You think I don’t know that?” he blazed.
“This isn’t about you and me,” she persisted wildly. “It’s about Kit.” She was right, she knew she was. Not since that one time had she ever let a man seduce her, not with words or with his body. So what was so different about Cal Huntingdon?
Power, she thought with an inward shiver. The power of his words, which had both terrified and exhilarated her. And, she admitted unwillingly, the power of his body. His height, the way his muscles moved in his throat when he swallowed, the gleam of sunlight across his cheekbones… Oh God, what was wrong with her? She’d never in her life been so aware of a man’s sheer physicality.
Why did it have to be Cal, of all people, who was causing her to break all her self-imposed rules?
Be careful, Marnie. Be very careful. It’s Kit you want. Not Kit’s father.
Unable to stand the direction her thoughts had taken her, Marnie pushed her way through the bayberry shrubs onto the rocks.
Cal was right. She did need a break.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE beach was made of shale, gray blue shale on which the blue green waves were advancing and retreating. Like Cal’s eye color and her own, Marnie thought edgily. Finding a smooth boulder, she perched herself on it.
Cal bent and picked up a sliver of rock, then threw it so it skipped over the water half a dozen times before it sank. He said absently, “Kit loves to do that. Hers usually bounce more than mine—she’s really got the knack.”
Then he turned to face Marnie, his face clouded. “I knew she had a math test today, so I made her stay in last night to study when she wanted to be out with her friends. And do you know what she said? Her mother wouldn’t have made her stay in, her mother hadn’t been mean to her like me, she went on and on, and the irony is that Jennifer was stricter with her than I am. A couple of months ago, we went to a counselor, but Kit refused to even open her mouth. My best friend’s wife has done her best to draw Kit out—same result. I normally travel three or four times a year as an adjunct to my job, but I’ve even cut that out, figuring she needs me home.” His laugh was tinged with bitterness. “She needs me like she needs a hole in the head. It’s almost as though she hates me for being alive now that Jennifer’s dead.”
Her heart aching, Marnie ventured, “She seemed happy enough with her friends this morning. She did tell Lizzie you’d made her study, but she didn’t sound too upset about it.”
“I warned her she’d be off the school basketball team if her math marks didn’t improve. She’s their star forward, so she won’t risk that.”
Even though as an adult Marnie preferred solitary pursuits to team sports, she’d played basketball when she was a teenager, and now she helped out with the Faulkner Fiends, the junior high girls’ basketball team in her own school. One more link to Kit, she thought unhappily.
“Lately, she’s even…” Then Cal broke off, picking up another rock and firing it at the water. It hit at the wrong angle and sank with a small splash.
“Even what?” Marnie prompted.
Restlessly, he shrugged his shoulders. “Never mind. Tell me how the adoption came about.”
She winced. “What’s the point if I can’t see Kit again?”
“Maybe it’ll help me understand.”
“You don’t need to understand, Cal! Because I’m finally getting the message. I’ve got to go home and forget my daughter lives fifty miles down the road.”
“Why did you give her up, Marnie?”
The breeze was freshening, molding Marnie’s shirt to her breasts and teasing her hair. She stood up, rubbing her palms down the sides of her jeans. “I didn’t. My mother deceived me—I told you that.”
“So tell me more.”
She stared out at the horizon. Wisely or unwisely, she knew she was going to do as he asked. But because she’d never told anyone but Terry about her pregnancy, and because it was all so long ago and yet so painfully present, her voice sounded clipped and unconvincing, even to her own ears. “Terry and I were best friends all through school. Most of the kids either hated me or avoided me because of my mother. She owned the mill. Everyone in the town owed their livelihood to the mill. Try that one on for size in a small town. But I had Terry and his parents and a couple of girlfriends, so I was okay.”
“Were you in love with him?”
“With Terry?” she said blankly. “No! I’m sorry if best friends sounds corny, but that’s the way it was. Until the night of the first school dance my final year of high school. My mother and I had had a huge fight. She didn’t want me going with him—he was the son of a sawyer, after all. She locked me in my room, but I got out through the window and went anyway.”
“What floor was your bedroom?”
“I do wish you’d stop interrupting,” Marnie said fractiously. “The second floor. Why?”
“Did you jump?”
“I climbed down the Virginia creeper—the stems were thicker than your wrist.”
“You really don’t like being ordered around, do you?”
“Oh, shush! Anyway, we went to the dance. I had a couple of drinks too many, we drove to the lake to see the moon, and you can guess the rest.” She sighed. “Bad mistake, and I’m not just talking about pregnancy, I’m talking about sex. It ruined everything between us—the fun, the friendship. Terry and I avoided each other like the plague for the next
