“And that was...”
“Almost five years ago.”
He was thirty-four and what did he have to show for it? A huge bank balance but not much else. No wife, no kids... God, if he didn’t have time for a wife, how could he ever be a good father? He wouldn’t even know where to start. His own father had taken off when Eric was twelve, leaving him, his brothers and his mom to pay off the debts he’d racked up as well as paying the bills. Eric got a paper route and mowed grass until he was old enough to work. Then he got a job with a landscape company in the summer and did snow removal in the winter to help with finances. By the time he was seventeen, he was running his own crew at the company and it paid his way through university—he’d done his degree at McGill so he could stay at home and commute, saving dorm costs. His brothers had all taken similar paths. Work. Some postsecondary schooling at community college. Except they’d gone into business together, while Eric had moved on.
From the moment his dad had abandoned his responsibilities, Eric and his brothers had begun shouldering them as a team. When he decided not to join in the car dealership with them, it had been seen as a betrayal. His relationship with his family had suffered because of it. And yet if anything happened to the dealership now, Eric knew that he’d be able to step in and provide his family with the security they’d need. He never wanted any of them to go through what those early days had been like. He was the oldest. Perhaps the younger boys didn’t remember as well, but he did.
“Where’d you go?” Molly’s soft voice interrupted his thoughts. Her tart was gone but his hadn’t yet been tasted.
He gave his head a little shake. “Sorry. Just thinking.”
“I could see that. But it didn’t look like happy memories.”
He shrugged and picked up the cherry tart. “Honestly, I was just realizing that I haven’t really stopped working since I was twelve years old.”
“Then a vacation is long overdue,” she answered and lifted her glass. “I know you’re not crazy about divorce lawyers, and I’m not crazy about autocratic people who barge into my hotel room. But maybe we can call a truce? Make a pledge of civility?” She lifted her glass. “What do you say? To long-overdue vacations.”
A pledge of civility? His problem wasn’t going to be being civil. It was going to be reminding himself that he wasn’t interested, because she was more intriguing by the minute. He lifted his glass anyway. “To long-overdue vacations.”
CHAPTER FOUR
THEY ARRIVED AT their next destination—a lodge just outside Campbell River—late in the afternoon. Her bags were already waiting in her room; one of the company vans had taken the luggage ahead while the passengers whiled away the day at the wineries.
The previous night’s accommodations had been posh and luxurious; tonight’s were less ostentatious but equal in comfort and services. When Molly was taken to her room, she was treated to an expansive view of the mountains out the large window and a sumptuous king-size bed with a fluffy duvet and plump pillows. The decor was simple and expensive, but there was something inherently calming about it, from the clump of fresh lavender and sweet grass on the pillow to the soothing bath salts at the edge of the oversize soaker tub. According to the brochure, the lodge was often used for yoga and spiritual retreats. As she let out a deep breath, she could understand why. It was perfect.
They were on their own for dinner, so she first headed to the spa for the Ayurvedic massage she’d booked as part of the package. Soft music, scented oil and sure hands meant that an hour later she emerged feeling incredibly relaxed and about ten pounds lighter. The masseuse had encouraged her to drink a bottle of water before leaving the spa, and by the time she returned to her room, she didn’t feel like going to the dining room, so she called down and ordered room service.
The fresh pasta with pesto and feta perked her up, though, and around nine o’clock she thought she might head down to the hot tub for a quick dip. She left her dishes outside the room and slid on a pair of flip-flops before heading to the outdoor hot tub.
The air had cooled once the sun had gone down, and Molly discovered half their group lounging in the huge tub. She hung up her robe and left her flip-flops under the hook, and then stepped into the steaming water wearing her modest one-piece swimsuit, hurrying so her body was on display as little as possible. The couple from Alberta were soaking near the steps, and she offered a smile as she sank up to her armpits in the bubbles, letting out a happy sigh.
“It’s lovely, isn’t it?” asked Joan, the woman beside her. “We had dinner and decided to go for a dip and I’m so glad.”
“I had a massage and dinner in my room. But then I thought, why not?” She smiled at the other woman. “I came on this trip to take advantage of what it had to offer, so here I am.”
“Speaking of taking advantage of the amenities,” Joan said, her voice a little lower, and Molly turned to follow the path of Joan’s gaze. Her body heated at the sight of Eric coming across the wood decking in his bare feet.
“Oh. It’s not like that,” Molly muttered.
“Are you sure? You seem to be together a lot.”
“We’re the only singletons on the trip. There’s really nothing.”
Except for the little knot of attraction that settled low in her belly. He wore swim trunks and a T-shirt, which he stripped off and tossed on top of the pristine white towel from his room. She put on a smile and kept her shoulders at the same level as the water, increasingly self-conscious of her figure in a bathing suit.
He got in, gave her a wink and slipped across to the other side of the pool, where he began chatting with other guests.
“See?” She turned to Joan and smiled. “Definitely not pairing up.”
Joan laughed then. “Sweetie, I’m forty-eight years old and I don’t get fooled easily. You can’t take your eyes off him.”
Good thing the pool was hot and her cheeks were already flushed. She shrugged and said, “I didn’t say he wasn’t good-looking. I’m not blind.”
Joan laughed again, and then they settled into a conversation, getting to know each other a little better and chatting about the wineries from earlier today.
People started getting out not long after. Molly considered it, but Eric was still here and she was still self-conscious about being in her bathing suit. Thank God she hadn’t worn a bikini. She was so confident in some ways, but not about her figure. There was no flattering cut or supportive undergarment to help her now. The little pudge at her belly and flare of her hips would be on full display if she stepped out of the water.
So she waited.