want to hear it.”
She looked at him, looked out at the water, then looked next door. Eventually, she stared at him again, frowning. “Why are you here?”
“Not by choice.”
“I can see that,” she said, so quietly he almost didn’t hear.
That was what he liked about her. Her quiet. Everything about her was designed to escape notice. Her swimsuit was nearly identical to the sensible one-piece she wore yesterday. Built for swimming, not for looks. Her blond hair was long and unstyled, falling past her shoulders. He didn’t think she was wearing makeup, but Daniel was no expert.
Although he really liked her eyes. Without her sunglasses he could see that she had nice eyes. Big, brown eyes that watched him steadily…until he met her eyes, and then she blinked, looking away, a pale flush rising up her cheeks. Next door, one of the lawyers—Samuel?—chased a woman down the beach, until she turned and let him catch her.
Why did everyone have to be so damned loud? Daniel shook his head. He noticed Catherine watching the people next door. “You want to go over there?”
Quickly, she shook her head. “Oh, no. I’m comfortable here. What about you?”
“I’m happier from a distance. This way I get to study people.”
“Ah, a zoologist,” she said, her lips curving up for a moment.
“People are fairly easy to peg.”
“Really?” she asked skeptically, pulling her legs up underneath her and digging her toes into the sand.
“Oh, yeah,” he answered, as if he were the world’s foremost expert at psychology. Gabe would have laughed his ass off, but okay, Gabe wasn’t here.
“So tell me about the man in the blue swim trunks.”
Daniel thought for a second. He didn’t know these people well, but he knew the types by heart. “Anthony. He’s a clown, goof-off, doesn’t take anything seriously.”
“What about the pale guy, the one who’s going to be hurting from the sunburn tomorrow?”
“Bill. I think. William. Bill. Billy. Something. He’s a little weird. Drinks too much. Works too hard.”
“What about the girl with the dark hair under his arm?”
“Her name’s Chelsea, ambitious, but does things with no half measures.”
“So why is Chelsea, who does things with no half measures, wasting time with weird Bill, when she really wants Anthony?”
“No way,” he said, but then he glanced over at Chelsea and realized that Catherine was right. Chelsea might be spending her nights skinny-dipping with Bill, but when Bill wasn’t looking, her eyes were glued to Anthony. That didn’t even make sense. “Okay, assuming that you’re right—possibly. Then why’s she wasting her time with Bill?”
Catherine moved her head, and her hair fell across her shoulder, following the blue fabric of her bathing suit, stroking along the curve of her breast. Daniel immediately looked back at Chelsea and Bill.
“She doesn’t want to be alone, and she doesn’t think Anthony will like her enough. Most people will latch onto anything rather than learn how to be by themselves.”
“I didn’t think that could be taught.” He’d spent the last seven years alone and didn’t have too many problems with it.
“I think so. It’s a good thing to be comfortable with yourself, knowing what you’re capable of, and what you’re not. You don’t have to waste so much time faking your way through life. Sometimes faking is worth the effort, but most of the time it’s not.”
The quiet voice of reason. Daniel liked her even more. “You do this for a living?”
“No, not even close,” she said, laughing.
“So how come you know so much?” he asked, because she had noticed details he missed. Coming from an accountant, that was just sad.
“Like you said, people are easy to peg.”
He looked at her again, checking for the details he might have missed. She surprised him, but in a good way. It wasn’t that he was antisocial, it was mostly that everyone he met was chock-full of filler conversations that contributed absolutely nothing to anything—or so he thought. Yet here he was, having a filler conversation that contributed absolutely nothing to any thing…or did it?
Catherine’s theory explained a lot. Why Warren in the office took off every Thursday for drinks after work with Thom, when he couldn’t stand the guy. Why Kim went to lunch with Madeline on Fridays, which was about the stupidest thing ever, since Madeline had taken Kim’s job as operations manager. How hard was it to eat alone?
“You have needy friends like that, too?” he asked curiously.
“One friend who keeps seeing her ex, who makes her miserable.” She leaned forward, her hair brushing over her shoulder again, down her breast. This time Daniel looked for a long minute before glancing away.
“Maybe she loves him,” he said, his voice rough. The heat was getting to him, making him light-headed, his skin hot.
She slipped up her sunglasses, her feet digging under the sand until they were completely covered. “She doesn’t love him. She doesn’t even like him.”
“People are strange,” he said, looking away from her, focusing on the waves until his brain righted itself.
“Got that right,” she agreed.
Their conversation drifted on from there, moving from one nothing topic to another, but he definitely liked this. As they talked, the sun shifted in the sky. Daniel leaned back in the chair, relishing the warmth of the rays that reflected off the water. All in all, it was definitely good. Definitely.
Eventually the conversation dwindled, and the silence fell, perfectly balanced to the soothing ebb and flow of the whitecapped sea.
Catherine watched the waves lap up onto the beach, and then cleared her throat. “You’re welcome to sleep here if you’d like.”
It took a moment for the words to sink in and Daniel’s brows shot up at the invitation, in shock, and more than a little fear. She couldn’t have noticed. When it came to hiding things, Daniel was an expert.
Then Catherine glanced in his direction, caught his deer-in-the-headlights look and laughed, a gurgling hiccup of noise.
“Not that way,” she told him. “We have a bunch of rooms, and I don’t play volleyball, or much else. Your brothers would never have to know.”
He sighed, a great explosion of breath. One bullet dodged.
“Nothing to be afraid of. I promise,” she said, and he believed her. The offer was beyond tempting. Her beach house was a shining beacon of serenity compared to the reality show next door. As if God knew and was laughing, one of the lawyers pulled out a karaoke machine and cranked up the volume, singing bad Bob Dylan at the top
