“These look familiar. They’re from your catalog, right?”
“Yep. Mom and Dad are great customers.”
“I looked through it the other day. You do a great job.”
“It’s not my catalog. I just work there and help manage things. It’s a good place to work.”
“It’s great they let you take a long vacation.”
“Summer is a slow time for us.” With a shrug, she added, “Plus, I needed a break.”
“Being here in Bishop’s Gate will be good for you.”
Emotion sparked in her eyes. “Lately, I’ve been hearing that a lot. I must look even worse than I thought.” Before he could say a word, Evie pointed to the flight of steps leading out toward the walkway and beach. “The table’s all set. Let’s go sit out there.”
“All right.” Grabbing two more Coors Lights, August told everyone they were going for a short walk, then followed Evie, who’d already stepped off the patio, kicked off her shoes, and was walking barefoot down the path.
In a couple of strides, he caught up with her. “I got us another round.”
“Thanks,” she said, twisting off the cap easily.
After a few more steps, they sat down on a pair of ancient iron chairs, half buried in silky-soft warm sand. Within seconds, Evie buried her toes in the sand, too. “Ah,” she said, finally treating him to a genuine smile. “Do you smell the surf? I love it here.”
August stretched out his legs and glanced toward the horizon, where the warm gulf water rushed in gentle waves across the shoreline. “Me, too. I’ve always loved it here.” Beside him, Evie sat with her head back, sheer bliss on her face. She looked beautiful. “For the record, I think you look okay, Evie,” he said softly.
Her head popped up, her eyes so full of cautious eagerness, that it took his breath away. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he replied, hoping she didn’t hear how affected by her he was. He took a fortifying sip of his Coors and watched the waves with Evie.
Little by little, the sunlight faded and the temperature dropped. Behind them, August could hear his mom laugh at some old joke Mike was telling.
“You just need to take some time for yourself,” he added after a while.
She laughed at that. “What I need to do, August, is take care of my children.”
August pointed behind them. On the patio, Missy was playing with some French fries on the tray of her high chair and Jenna was showing Tanya her collection of naked Barbie dolls. “Your girls look fine.”
Her expression softened. “Right now, at this minute, I guess they do.”
Her pleasure in his simple compliment brought back all kinds of memories for August. “Remember when we went to that carnival and got stuck on the Ferris wheel?”
She chuckled. “Don’t act like that was a rare occurrence. I think everyone in Bishop’s Gate has gotten stuck on that Ferris wheel one time or another.”
“I won’t deny that. Still—do you remember the night it was our turn?”
“Absolutely. I remember that it was pretty much the hottest night of the year.”
It had been hot. Evie had worn short jean shorts, blistering white Keds and a bright teal halter top. She’d been all smooth, tan skin and golden hair. Gorgeous. “You were the only girl who didn’t panic when the wind picked up and our seat started rocking.”
Evie leaned closer, her bare arm brushing against his…just like they had so long ago. “That’s because I was the only girl who had August Anderson Meyer’s arm around her.”
He remembered that well. Her skin had felt like satin, and there’d been enough humor in her eyes to make being stuck on the ancient ride a true adventure.
He’d kissed her, too. He’d pulled her so close that their seat had rocked quite a bit, all on its own. “That was a great night, though your parents never did push back curfew.”
Evie smiled. “They weren’t fools—they knew what we wanted to do. Jenna’s got another thing coming if she thinks she’ll ever pull one over on me.”
Back on the porch, Jenna was showing Jan a picture she’d just colored. “It’s for Daddy,” she pronounced, her voice floating toward them.
Evie visibly winced as she stared at the water once again.
“You okay?”
“Oh, sure. I’m, uh, having a tough time remembering not to care that I took the girls away from their dad—from John—for a whole month.”
“Did John not want you to come to Florida?”
She looked surprised. “He encouraged me, actually. He’s going to be gone most of the month, and he knows just how much the girls love my parents.”
“So, you and your ex still get along.”
“Well enough. He’s there for the girls whenever he can be.” Digging her toes deeper into the sand, she added, “John’s always been a good father. A very good father.”
Her defense of the guy made August seethe. She was hurting. He saw it now, and he’d heard about it from her parents. She looked worn-out and stressed, overworked and underfed. August knew her ex-husband was the reason…so why was she defending the guy? “A good father…but not a good husband?”
Gray eyes widened and a hint of a smile played around the corners of her pale pink lips. “I don’t know about that. I think he just fell out of love.”
“Did you?”
“I don’t know. Honestly, some days…some nights I wonder if I’d ever really been in love with him.” She shook her head. “I was on cruise control, you know? I went to work, I came home, I cooked dinner. On my days off I vacuumed and cleaned the house. Sometimes I remembered to wear makeup.” Quietly, she added, “Sometimes I remembered to give John my attention. Sometimes he remembered, too.”
August hated the thought of her so unhappy. “He should have helped you more.”
“It wasn’t me, it wasn’t him…it was ‘us.’ And ‘us’ wasn’t good. We made babies. We raised them together. We divided chores and shared a checkbook, but I don’t know if we ever shared a life.”
It sounded like a cop-out to August. “I can’t believe he left you and the girls.”
“He didn’t, not really. He’s nearby, he helps. He just left me.”
He hated that she so obviously thought it was her fault. August clasped her hand, unable to keep from touching her. “Evie—”
She squeezed his hand to stop his words. “At first I was devastated. But then one night when I was all alone, sipping wine and feeling sorry for myself, I remembered our honeymoon. There we were, sporting shiny gold rings. We’d just had the most amazing wedding and reception, were finally free to do whatever we wanted, whenever we wanted—and I didn’t have a thing to say to him.”
Stark awareness filled her eyes as she met his gaze. “And that’s when I knew, August. Three months after our divorce, as I sat on my couch, remembering a thousand little details, I knew John had been right. We’d jumped into marriage and into grown-up life without ever jumping into love. And, as much as it pains me to admit it…that wasn’t enough. John and I, we had no passion.”
No passion.
The details of her life were hard to hear, though August had wanted to hear every bit. Back in high school, he’d had a major crush on Evie Ray. The last summer when they were together, when they thought she was pregnant, he’d fantasized about a future with her in it. When their “scare” was over, he’d