her eyebrows. “Implying that whatever you have to say is the opposite of peaceful?”
“If it involves you reacting to it by refusing to see me again… Yeah, there might be some serious waves.”
Mari kicked off her flip-flops and stuck her feet in the cool, fine sand. Despite her attempts to calm herself, her voice still cracked when she spoke.
“Marc… You saw what happened last night as well as I did. All that animosity, all that hurt. It’d be irresponsible of us to…you know—”
“I think I know, but do you?”
“What do you mean?” she asked slowly.
“I wasn’t planning this little reunion, Mari. But now that it’s happened, I’m not willing to just walk away from it, either. And I’m not talking about sneaking down to your house and having some hot, vacation sex with an old fling.” His gaze flickered down over her neck and breasts and he added gruffly, “Although I think we both know that scenario has its appeal. The point is, you mean more than that to me. It was a hell of a thing to see you Chicago and realize that was still true, after all these years. I’m a practical guy. It’s kind of hard to run from the truth when it’s staring you right in the face.”
Mari swallowed thickly in the silence that followed.
“It would never work out,” she said after a moment, her voice so quiet it almost couldn’t be heard above the sound of the waves breaking gently on the beach.
“I don’t think you’re so sure about that. I think you want to act like you’re sure—” her heart surged against her breastbone when he reached up and caressed her jaw with large, gentle fingers “—so it’ll be easier to push me away.”
Her spine straightened and he let his hand drop to the wood embankment. “I’m not being selfish. I’m trying to be wise,” she explained. “I don’t want you to be hurt. I don’t want my brother to worry. I don’t want your mother to be angry. I don’t want—”
“What about you? What about what you want, Mari?”
She looked out at the dark waters, worrying her lower lip with her front teeth. She was highly aware of him leaning toward her.
“Because here’s the thing,” Marc muttered near her left ear, causing her neck to prickle in awareness. “I think you were worried about all those things when you left Harbor Town fifteen years ago, when you cut off all ties with me. I think you were thinking about what was wise instead of what was right.”
She glanced at him furtively, but when she saw the expression on his face, her gaze stuck.
“I think you were considering what you thought your parents would have wanted you to do in that situation, Mari.”
Anger flared in her breast at his mention of her parents. “I don’t have to listen to this.”
She started to stand, intent on getting away from him at that moment. He halted her with a firm hand on her shoulder but it was the earnestness in his deep voice that truly restrained her.
“I’m not saying it was wrong. I understand. Your folks were suddenly gone—something you’d never dreamed of as a possibility, even in your worst nightmares—so you did what you thought they would have wanted if they were alive. The rebellious daughter who lied to them and snuck out to see the guy her parents forbade her to see vanished fifteen years ago.”
“So what if she did?” Mari challenged. “You’re making my point, not talking me out of it. I had been behaving like a selfish, lying, thankless brat. Sometimes it takes a crisis before you realize how foolish—how hurtful—you’ve been acting.”
“And I’ll bet after they died, there were times you would have done anything to take back your rebellion against them,” he said quietly. “But there was nothing heartless in what you did, Mari. You were acting like a typical teenager. You never purposely hurt your parents.”
“Only because their deaths got in the way of them ever fully realizing what I was doing,” she cried out.
“So that’s it? You’re going to carry around the guilt of a teenage girl inside of you forever? Be a martyr to your parents’ cause?” he asked harshly.
This time he didn’t succeed in stopping her when she stood. Marc caught up to her several feet away from the surging waves. He placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her around until she faced him.
“I’m not blaming you for feeling guilty, Mari. God knows I haven’t been immune to the emotion. I’m not blaming you for staying away for all those years, either. But here’s the thing…”
She realized that tears were streaming down her face, even though she hadn’t been aware of feeling sadness, only anger and shame and hurt. She stared up into Marc’s shadowed face and knew she was experiencing something else in that moment, no matter how tenuous that emotion was.
Hope.
She didn’t move, despite her charging heart, when Marc leaned down until their faces were only inches apart. “…you’re not an eighteen-year-old girl anymore. You’re a woman. Tell me that if you met me for the first time in Chicago that you wouldn’t be intrigued by the chemistry between us.”
“That’s wishful thinking, and you know it,” she said in a choked voice. “We aren’t strangers. We can’t escape the past.”
“I’m not suggesting we can. But we can deal with it. Or at least we can try.”
A shudder went through her at his words. He placed his hand on her back and softly rubbed her, soothing her even though he probably didn’t understand her sudden anguish.
We can deal with it.
Was it true? It stunned her to realize that a big part of her doubted they could successfully face their demons.
The realization hurt. Wasn’t that why she’d returned to Harbor Town? Because she’d convinced herself there was a chance people could heal, even in the most difficult of circumstances? Did she believe it for other people but not herself?
A moan escaped her throat, and Marc enfolded her in his arms. Hot tears scalded her cheeks, as if they’d been held inside her body for too long and finally boiled over. She pressed her face against his chest. Years of pent-up emotion poured out of her while the waves anointed her bare feet with cold, clean water and Marc held her, helping to ease her anguish.
God, the things she wanted to say to her parents— how sorry she was for not appreciating them more, how much she’d regretted over the years that she hadn’t been the daughter they wanted, how much she’d needed their calm, steady presence as a child…how much she loved them.
She’d had similar thoughts thousands of times, but tonight, here on the beach with Marc Kavanaugh’s arms surrounding her, Mari knew she’d never fully felt the impact of those regrets.
After several more emotional minutes, Mari slowly became aware of Marc’s warm mouth pressing her head as he occasionally murmured to her in a quieting fashion. When he kissed her ear, she shivered in his arms. Her crying slowly ceased as she became more aware of him.
“All I’m asking is that
