season as it was hers. And she concluded that Lisa had to be a long-term part of Pete’s life if he’d developed habits of consideration toward her.
Lisa could be anybody. What earthly difference did it make? It was tacky, giving reign to curiosity. Powerful, consuming, raging curiosity that would not be denied. “Who’s Lisa?” she had to ask.
“Lisa?” he repeated, frowning.
“You mentioned her a minute ago.”
He looked at her with a blank expression.
“You said Lisa didn’t like black coffee,” she prompted.
His lip curled. “Black coffee was just one of the things she didn’t like. Lisa was my wife. She divorced me two years ago.”
It was rude to pry, but polite to show interest. “Were you married long?”
“Ten years, and we went together all through high school.”
He’d volunteered that, but it had a bitter ring that reminded her why it was bad to be nosy. She stored her coffee cup, stared blindly out the window and waited for him to share what he wanted. It wasn’t worth wasting a beautiful morning, forcing the man to talk.
Pete tapped the steering wheel in a mindless rhythm, annoyed with himself, irritated that he’d let Lisa intrude on the first, well, second, date he’d everhad with someone besides her. Why had he mentioned her? She ought to be so far back in his brain that he couldn’t even think of her name, let alone her coffee preferences.
He hated thinking about Lisa and his old life. No good ever came of it. That’s why he stuck to his routine, going to the beach every day, going home every night. As long as he followed the pattern, he could get through a whole day without once thinking of himself as a loser.
He had Meggy to thank for yanking him out of his comfortable rut. She thought nothing of invading his privacy, expecting him to bail her out time after time. To be fair, helping her out was his choice. That’s the way love worked in their family. But he wished she’d just leave him alone.
Someday, when he was ready, he’d find something more productive to do than being a beach bum. Maybe he’d even find a nice girl, someone like Sunny who was so undemanding and self-sufficient, she’d pray for an angel to come to her aid before she’d expect it from him.
Only, he doubted there was anybody else quite like Sunny, a woman who was pretty from the inside out. He liked being with her and couldn’t help wondering what it would have been like if this camping trip were the real thing.
He could imagine them sitting by a campfire in the quiet wilderness, with her snuggled up beside him and him stealing a couple of kisses. Well, actually, probably more than a couple. Her kisses weren’t the kind a man rationed. But not too many.Not so many that things got out of hand. He still thought some things you saved for marriage.
It was a nice fantasy. He didn’t know berries about camping, but he could read up or hire somebody to teach him. There were plenty of nice places to camp besides Big Bear where the rough terrain would be more than his hip could take—at least that’s what the doctors and therapists said.
Man, he was tired of being told what he could and couldn’t do. None of those experts knew how good he felt. He walked three miles a day, worked out and ate healthy. He was strong as an ox and determined. Someday he’d get back to where he had been.
So what if a jury thought it couldn’t be done. All they’d had were facts, figures and doctors’ reports. None of that measured heart. One of these days the insurance company would check in, see the recovery he’d made and want their millions back.
Since they weren’t actually going to do the hike, he hadn’t told Sunny about his limitations. He could tell her. He was no macho stud. He admitted weakness, sometimes. The problem was, if he told her, she’d get all sympathetic. He’d seen enough pitying eyes to last him a lifetime.
He sneaked a glance at her. Man, she was pretty, sitting there in her jeans and
Lisa could be anybody. What earthly difference did it make? It was tacky, giving reign to curiosity. Powerful, consuming, raging curiosity that would not be denied. “Who’s Lisa?” she had to ask.
“Lisa?” he repeated, frowning.
“You mentioned her a minute ago.”
He looked at her with a blank expression.
“You said Lisa didn’t like black coffee,” she prompted.
His lip curled. “Black coffee was just one of the things she didn’t like. Lisa was my wife. She divorced me two years ago.”
It was rude to pry, but polite to show interest. “Were you married long?”
“Ten years, and we went together all through high school.”
He’d volunteered that, but it had a bitter ring that reminded her why it was bad to be nosy. She stored her coffee cup, stared blindly out the window and waited for him to share what he wanted. It wasn’t worth wasting a beautiful morning, forcing the man to talk.
Pete tapped the steering wheel in a mindless rhythm, annoyed with himself, irritated that he’d let Lisa intrude on the first, well, second, date he’d everhad with someone besides her. Why had he mentioned her? She ought to be so far back in his brain that he couldn’t even think of her name, let alone her coffee preferences.
He hated thinking about Lisa and his old life. No good ever came of it. That’s why he stuck to his routine, going to the beach every day, going home every night. As long as he followed the pattern, he could get through a whole day without once thinking of himself as a loser.
He had Meggy to thank for yanking him out of his comfortable rut. She thought nothing of invading his privacy, expecting him to bail her out time after time. To be fair, helping her out was his choice. That’s the way love worked in their family. But he wished she’d just leave him alone.
Someday, when he was ready, he’d find something more productive to do than being a beach bum. Maybe he’d even find a nice girl, someone like Sunny who was so undemanding and self-sufficient, she’d pray for an angel to come to her aid before she’d expect it from him.
Only, he doubted there was anybody else quite like Sunny, a woman who was pretty from the inside out. He liked being with her and couldn’t help wondering what it would have been like if this camping trip were the real thing.
He could imagine them sitting by a campfire in the quiet wilderness, with her snuggled up beside him and him stealing a couple of kisses. Well, actually, probably more than a couple. Her kisses weren’t the kind a man rationed. But not too many.Not so many that things got out of hand. He still thought some things you saved for marriage.
It was a nice fantasy. He didn’t know berries about camping, but he could read up or hire somebody to teach him. There were plenty of nice places to camp besides Big Bear where the rough terrain would be more than his hip could take—at least that’s what the doctors and therapists said.
Man, he was tired of being told what he could and couldn’t do. None of those experts knew how good he felt. He walked three miles a day, worked out and ate healthy. He was strong as an ox and determined. Someday he’d get back to where he had been.
So what if a jury thought it couldn’t be done. All they’d had were facts, figures and doctors’ reports. None of that measured heart. One of these days the insurance company would check in, see the recovery he’d made and want their millions back.
Since they weren’t actually going to do the hike, he hadn’t told Sunny about his limitations. He could tell her. He was no macho stud. He admitted weakness, sometimes. The problem was, if he told her, she’d get all sympathetic. He’d seen enough pitying eyes to last him a lifetime.
He sneaked a glance at her. Man, she was pretty, sitting there in her jeans and
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