CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
DAWN WAS ADAM SCOTT’S favorite time of day at the South Carolina coastal resort where he both worked and lived. Suspended between darkness and light, the beach was quiet but for the sound of the waves breaking on the shore and the drumming of his feet on the wet sand. He ran every morning before beginning a long day of work. He passed the occasional beachcomber or fisherman, but they rarely exchanged more than civil nods. Folks out this early weren’t looking for conversation.
This was his time to clear his head, to organize his plans for the day. A chance to savor the solitude that was increasingly rare for him as his responsibilities at the resort had increased over the past three years. He didn’t always go to bed alone, but he never invited anyone to join him on these morning runs. For this hour every morning, he had at least the illusion of complete freedom, no one making demands on his time or attention, no obvious reason he couldn’t just keep running if the mood struck him.
A small form appeared ahead, hunched on the sand, barely visible in the pale light from the pink-streaked purple sky. Adam squinted, trying to make out the shape. Was it a dog? No. A child. A young one, at that. What was the kid doing out alone at this time of day?
Estimating the boy to be four, maybe five, Adam approached slowly. He didn’t want to scare him. “Hey, buddy. Whatcha doing out here by yourself?”
Still crouched over a shallow tide pool, the boy looked up. Maybe it was a trick of shadows or the watery light of dawn, but there was something eerily familiar about this kid with his tumbled dark hair and smoky gray eyes. Perhaps Adam had seen him around the resort before? Clouds shifted overhead and the light brightened enough for him to see more clearly. No. He was sure they’d never met. But still there was something about this child...
“I’m not allowed to talk to strangers.” The boy didn’t look particularly concerned as he shared that rule.
“That’s a good policy, but I work for the resort,” Adam assured him, keeping his distance for now. “My name is Adam.”
The child frowned thoughtfully. “You could still be a bad guy.”
Adam was startled into a chuckle by the little guy’s logic. “Well, yeah, I guess that’s true. But I’m not.”
Apparently satisfied, the boy extended one hand. “Do you know what kind of shell this is?”
Glancing at the cylindrical shell on the outstretched palm, Adam nodded. “It’s a lettered olive. It belonged to a type of snail.”
“It’s cool. I want to find a starfish, too.”
“You find them here occasionally. So, where are your parents? Do they know you’re out by yourself?”
As if in answer, a woman’s anxious voice called out. “Simon? Simon! Where are you?”
The boy winced. “That’s my mom.”
A woman emerged, almost running, from the canopy of tropical trees that marked the edge of the main resort grounds. She wore a tank top and plaid cotton shorts with flip-flops, and her collar-length brown hair was disheveled, as though she’d just climbed out of bed. “Simon! You know better than to wander off like this. You scared me half to death.”
The voice was an echo from Adam’s past. He took a step back, his startled gaze locked on the woman’s anxious face. Her attention was focused on the boy, so she hadn’t spared Adam more than a quick glance. Would she recognize him when she looked more closely, or had she forgotten all about the man she’d known so briefly all those years ago?
Joanna looked so much the same that it was hard to believe it had been six years since he’d last seen her. Her hair was a few inches shorter than the style she’d worn before, but was still a glossy chestnut that complemented her green eyes. Her fair skin was smooth, her cheeks flushed with heightened emotion. Seeing her now affected him as strongly as when he’d met her on this very beach. He’d wanted her from the moment their paths had first crossed. Apparently, that physical reaction hadn’t changed in the ensuing years, though there was little to no chance the outcome would be the same this time.
He was aware that he’d changed a lot more than she had. When they’d met before, he’d been rail thin, brimming with impatient, brash energy. His dark hair had been cropped in a military cut. He was a healthier weight now, more muscle than sinew, tanned and generally relaxed. His last deployment had left physical traces in the carved lines around his eyes and mouth, in the scars hidden beneath his clothes, and in the strands of premature gray that peppered his hair, long enough now to brush his collar and usually mussed by the ocean breeze. He thought he looked more surfer than soldier these days. He wasn’t surprised she hadn’t immediately recognized him.
He couldn’t believe she was really here. He’d figured she’d long since moved on with her life, finding new places to visit on vacations. Six years was a long time.
“I’m sorry I scared you, Mom. I wanted to find shells before the other people come out. You were asleep.”
So she had at least one kid now. No doubt a husband waiting back in their suite. Adam told himself he was happy for her. Then wondered if he’d ever crossed her mind in the years since they’d parted.
Holding her wind-tossed hair out of her face with one hand, Joanna spoke more calmly now that her first surge of panic had subsided. “You should have woken me. Or asked last night and I’d have gotten up early with you. Don’t ever come out again without telling me, understand?”
The boy sighed. “Yes, ma’am.”
Joanna nodded in satisfaction, and then turned to look up at Adam. He realized he was still gaping at her. Belatedly remembering he was now an employee here, he gave her a professional nod. “Good morning.”
He figured he’d leave it up to her to decide whether to acknowledge that they’d met before. Maybe she’d want to pretend that their vacation fling had never happened. Hell, maybe she didn’t even remember him. For all he knew, she’d made much more of an impression on him than he had on her.
Joanna’s green eyes widened, and her lips parted on a gasp of disbelief. “Adam?”
So she did remember. He cleared his throat before speaking, keeping his tone as even as possible. “Hello, Joanna. This is a surprise.”
“You could say that.” Her right hand fell on the boy’s shoulder. Her face had paled—though he couldn’t say whether it was from leftover concern for her son, shock at seeing him or a combination. “What are you doing here?”
“He works here,” Simon piped up. “Does that mean it’s okay to talk to him?”
Adam saw her fingers tighten on her son’s
