Beyond the Waves (Pacific Shores Book 1) (26 page)

As Marie set the car seat into the small coat closet, where it would be out of the way for the moment, she followed his gaze around her apartment.

She’d never had a lot of money, and her tastes tended toward shabby chic. She’d repurposed an old, straight wooden ladder, painted white and distressed, into a bookshelf along one wall. Several of Alyssa’s books lay in a catawampus heap toward one end. An old window-paneled door, which she’d converted into a mirror with coat hooks along the bottom, hung just below the shelf. Even though she liked the scuffed-paint look she’d given the piece, Reece probably only saw scratched-up junk as he hooked his Stetson on one of the hooks.

The two white wicker chairs were cushioned with pillows she’d made from old jeans—she’d found both the chairs and the jeans at a garage sale and been hit with the inspiration for the project. And the loveseat which sat against the living room’s one blue wall had come from Goodwill. One of the cushions had been torn, but she’d duct taped it closed and then sewn a couch cover from white flat sheets. Two more of the jean pillows lay on the floor near the TV. Alyssa must have forgotten to return them to their place this morning before they left for the store.

Marie hurried to pick them up. “Uh…Alyssa’s room is just through here.” She tossed the pillows onto the couch and hustled down the hall, pushing open the door to Alyssa’s room and kicking aside stuffed animals in a path to the bed. She pulled down the blankets.

Reece gently deposited Alyssa against her pillow and stepped back.

Since it was such a warm day, Marie just pulled the sheet up over Alyssa and then turned for the hallway. But Reece hadn’t backed away more than a couple steps, and she almost barreled into him. She sucked in a gasp of surprise. But he didn’t seem to take notice. His attention roamed the room, taking in the eclectic array of crackled pink decor.

Marie pressed her lips together. The only thing she’d actually spent any real money on in this room was the mattress her daughter slept on. Everything else from the dresser to the headboard had been either a gift or ten dollars or less at garage sales or thrift shops. Even the paint in browns and pinks that she’d used to paint and then distress the bed and dresser had been in a free pile at a garage sale. She couldn’t tell by Reece’s expression whether he liked the look or not.

And why, oh, why did she care whether he liked it in the first place? Marie cleared her throat.

The sound seemed to jolt him into action, and he led the way back to the living room.

He unhooked his Stetson and fingered the brim, studying the décor in the room once more before pausing to assess her.

She rested her hands on the back of one of the wicker chairs and tried not to let her fingers fidget with one of the shaggy seams on the denim pillow. To no avail.

Reece’s gaze softened, and then warmed, and then twinkled. “It’s really nice to see you again.”

Drat her misbehaving heart. She swallowed. And instead of saying it was nice to see him too and shooing him out the door like she should, her mouth opened and offered, “I’m sorry to hear about your dad. Let me know if there’s any way I can help.”

He tapped the brim of his hat against his Levi-clad thigh, his eyes boring into hers. “You’re different.”

She chewed the inside of her lip. So he’d noticed. That ought to give her some measure of comfort. She dipped her chin in a nod.

She really had changed since he’d last seen her. Gone was the nurture-starved girl-woman who’d been looking for love in all the wrong places. Offering her body to—even throwing herself at—any man who would have her (or wouldn’t have her, in the case of Reece), in hopes of fulfilling the craving, the gaping need, the itch nothing seemed to be able to scratch. “I finally found the love I’d been searching for in all the wrong ways.”

“Alyssa mentioned a Mr. Jackson. Please tell me that isn’t Dan Jackson?”

Marie tilted up her chin.

Dan had been the consummate playboy in high school. If there was a party, Dan was there and likely had a hand in planning it. But he’d done a lot of growing up in the past four years and was a different guy now. He even came to church with her most Sundays. So what if he had some things in his past he was still dealing with? Heaven knew, she did too. Dan was good for her, and she was good for him. It was just easier to remember that when she wasn’t looking into a pair of green eyes flecked with amber and wanting to run her fingers over the indentation in dark curls caused by one black cowboy hat. “Yes, Dan Jackson. He’s different than you remember him.”

Reece tapped the hat against his leg again, and a furrow formed between his brows. “So you found the love you’d been searching for with Dan Jackson?”

A laugh popped loose before she could stop it. She scooped a hand back through her hair. “No. I meant Jesus.” Come to think of it, Jesus would probably want her to make a few things right with Reece. She glanced down and didn’t even try to stop herself from fiddling this time. “Reece, I really owe you an apology. That night when I…when I…” She clenched her eyes shut.

Visions of her younger self pressing her body hard against his as they lay on the warm beach sand at dusk. Of her fingers undoing the buttons of his shirt and gliding over the firm warmth of his torso as she kissed him passionately—Stop.

Her face felt like a frying pan ready to sear a steak for the umpteenth time today. “Reece, I’m very ashamed of many things, and that night with you is one of them. I hope you can forgive me. I’m trying to learn to lean on Jesus’ forgiveness and learning to forgive myself. And I want you to know I totally understand now why you broke things off the way you did. I must have…repulsed you.”

He chuckled, low and raspy.

Her gaze flew to his.

“You remember the story of Joseph and Potiphar’s wife, Marie?”

He was changing the subject? She frowned but gave a little nod.

“I can tell you from personal experience he ran because he was tempted as all get out to give in.” With that, he tipped his hat back onto his head, lifted his chin to peer at her from under the brim, and then offered a wink just before he opened the door. “I’ll be by at nine thirty to pick you up.” Her door clicked shut behind him.

Marie’s legs gave out, and she sank to her knees on the floor.

Her thoughts returned for just a moment to the night so many years ago. The night Reece had left his shirt in her hand and quite literally ran to his car and left her in the sand alone. He’d texted her the next day to say he couldn’t see her anymore and had been only distantly friendly to her every time she’d seen him after that. Every time until this one.

Oh boy. She scooped the fingers of her good hand through her hair. This day was not going as she’d planned.