his hand gripping hers as if he’d never let go. ‘It’s like once I hit the surf circuit I didn’t belong here any more.’
Silence stretched as she tried to come up with something to say that didn’t sound trite.
‘Your lives are so different. Maybe having less in common made you feel like that?’
‘It’s not that,’ he said, his eyes bleak as he tore his gaze away from his family and refocussed on her. ‘They kept something from me. It changed everything.’
Oh, heck. She could see it was big from his shattered expression. She’d wanted answers; she hadn’t wanted to cause him this much pain.
‘What happened?’
He sucked in a deep breath and blew it out in a long stream.
‘Dad had prostate cancer. They didn’t tell me for eighteen months.’
Stunned, she stared at him in disbelief. She couldn’t comprehend the enormity of how betrayed she’d feel if her mum hadn’t told her the truth about her disease. And in that moment she understood everything: Archer’s discomfort around his family, his unwillingness to get too close.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, pulling him in for a comforting hug that didn’t convey half of what she wanted to say.
‘It sucked.’ He disengaged, the slight catch in his voice underscoring his vulnerability. ‘Apparently he was diagnosed around the time I first started making a name for myself on the pro circuit. A couple of years before we first met.’
His gaze swung back to his family.
‘They didn’t want to burden me with something I could do little about. They waited to tell me once he’d got the all-clear so I would follow my dream.’ He dragged a hand through his hair. ‘Damn it, do you have any idea how shallow that makes me sound?’
Wishing she could do something to ease his pain, she captured his chin and made him look at her.
‘Don’t judge them too harshly. I’ve been where they are, sitting around helpless and frustrated, waiting for results. It’s a relentless, mundane task that eats away at you, and there isn’t one damn thing you can do about any of it.’ She released him, shaken by the vehemence of her response. ‘I know how hurt you must’ve been at being shut out, but did you stop to think they did it because they love you?’
Confusion clouded his eyes and she continued. ‘You told me in Capri that all you’d ever wanted growing up was to be the best surfer in the world. You said that every night you poured into getting your degree part-time was because you wanted to be something. Something beyond a local Torquay guy with big dreams and little else.’
She grabbed his arms and gave him a little shake. ‘You wanted it so badly I envied you that certainty of what you wanted and how far you’d go to get it. If I picked up on that in a week, don’t you think your family knew how much your dream meant to you?’
He opened his mouth to respond and she placed a fingertip under his chin and gently closed it. ‘Think about this. If you’d known and given up everything to be with your dad, would you have ended up resenting your family because of it?’
‘’Course not. I should’ve been here, supporting them.’
She shook her head. ‘You’re telling me the independent, driven, determined guy I know would’ve been happy giving up his dream to stay in Torquay?’
His frown was back. ‘It was my decision to make, and they didn’t give me a choice.’
His hurt was audible and she cupped his cheek. ‘They love you, Arch, and your dad’s fine. That’s all that matters. Don’t waste time on regrets, because life’s too short.’
She saw the moment some of his load eased. His confusion cleared and clarity shone through.
‘Is that why you gave me a second chance?’
His question came out of left field and stunned her a little. Of course her ‘seize the day’ mentality had a lot to do with her mum’s illness and her approach to life, but him being intuitive enough to pick up on it—and call her on it—really surprised her.
He slid his arms around her waist and rested his forehead against hers. ‘I’m sorry for the way things ended.’
Her heart stalled. There was so much she wanted to say, so much more she wanted to ask, but she’d made great inroads in getting him to open up about his family—who were now gathering for speeches and sending curious glances their way. The rest would have to wait until later.
‘Me too,’ she said, easing away, needing to lighten the mood before she started bawling. ‘You know, the faster we get the speeches over with, the faster we can get out of here.’
‘I like the way you think,’ he said, dropping a quick kiss on her lips.
ARCHER’S guts griped the way they had the time he’d eaten too many jalapeños in Mexico. Sadly, what ailed him this time wouldn’t be fixed with a dose of alka selzer.
This was what opening up did to a guy: it made him feel as if he’d be sick at any moment.
How the hell had Callie done that? Wormed some of the truth out of him? He hadn’t told anyone about his dad’s illness for fear it would paint him in a bad light. Not that he’d been deliberately uncaring. He just hadn’t been given the chance to care.
But having Callie articulate his family’s possible motivation in keeping such a momentous thing from him had gone some way to assuaging the pain.
Maybe it was time to swallow his damn pride and try to start building a few bridges again?
‘Come with me.’ His grip tightened on Callie’s hand, and as she smiled up at him a new pang twisted his gut.
This one had nothing to do with old regrets and everything to do with a new realisation.
That Callie meant more to him than he’d like to admit.
‘Sure. Though if I have to listen to one more anecdote about you guys terrorising Torquay by running around naked as kids I’m bailing.’
‘I don’t hear you complaining about seeing me naked now,’ he said, his low voice making her eyes widen. The molten depths urged him to head home with her right this very minute, bridges be damned.
‘I’m assuming we’re heading over to your family to say goodbye?’
He grinned at her cool delivery, spoiled by her healthy blush.
‘You assume right.’ He ducked down to whisper in her ear. ‘The sooner I get you naked the better.’
Her blush intensified and he was chuckling, as Izzy bowled up to him and careened into his legs, almost upending both of them.
‘Hey, Iz, where’s the fire?’
‘You’re leaving,’ she said, hanging off his leg in a similar way he’d seen her do to her dad. ‘And I don’t want you to go.’
Hell.
Intuitive as usual, Callie squeezed his hand and released it so he could squat down to Izzy’s level. She transferred her death grip from his leg to his arm.
‘I’m not going far, Iz, just up the road.’
Her blue eyes narrowed, pinning him with the retribution of a child he’d let down too many times in the past. ‘You sure you’re coming to the wedding on Christmas Eve and everything?’
‘I’m sure.’
Her wariness didn’t ease, and he half expected her to give him a kick in the shins for all those times he’d sidestepped her too-astute questions about his early