Her hand landed on his chest, over his heart, as if to protect it. She blinked, and a tear trickled down her cheek. “I’m sorry.”
Dammit to hell. He rested his forehead against hers for a moment, and breathed her in. Then he forced himself to straighten. “I don’t want you to be sorry, Lauralie. I want you to grow up.”
Unfortunately, only one of them could make that happen, and it wasn’t him. He only had one move left, so he made it.
He walked away.
Chapter Sixteen
Thirty minutes spent getting Maytagged in rough, five-foot surf synchronized mind and body—just not the way Laurie had hoped. She’d grabbed her board and taken refuge in the ocean at dawn, looking for an escape from the endless churn of her thoughts. Instead of emerging energized and clearheaded, she trudged up the shore utterly wrung out.
After laying her board on the sand, she sat, tugged open the neck closure on her wetsuit, and wrangled the zipper down a few inches. The efforts did little to relieve the strangled sensation plaguing her since the moment yesterday evening when Denise had stumbled into the restaurant. She rested her arms on her bent knees and squinted at the water while memories tumbled through her mind like breaking waves.
Booker accused her of being the same girl he’d dragged off this beach ten years ago, emotionally at least, but it was true in a lot of other ways, too. All the time she’d spent scraping and scrambling to make something of herself hadn’t gotten her very far. She was grown up enough to know that much.
A seagull screeched overhead, startling her. She released a breath and dug in her bag for her phone. Maybe Chelsea had texted with a meet time for later today. Thanking her for offering up her bonus, and then explaining why it wouldn’t help, after all, wouldn’t be easy, but just seeing her best friend would level her out. Chelsea had that effect on people.
The screen lit with a new message. Her fingers trembled as she read the communication from the insurance adjuster. He thanked her for her updated statement, and advised her they’d completed their investigation. The evidence concerning the cause of the fire conclusively pointed to a short in the wiring. A check for the total amount of her claim was in process. Some legal mumbo jumbo followed, but she barely skimmed it because, holy crap, she’d actually managed to rescue something she’d almost blown.
“Mind if I join you?”
Laurie jolted, and turned to find Rebecca Booker standing there. She shook her head, but inwardly braced for a confrontation. She had it coming after last night.
Booker’s mother executed a graceful descent and took a seat beside her, absently brushing sand off the knee of her workout leggings. “I came down for a run on the beach this morning and spotted the Babycakes logo on the SUV in the parking area. I figured you were nearby.”
Who knew the Expedition was such a mom magnet? She doubted an apology would cut short whatever dressing down was coming her way, but she owed the woman a big one, and now was probably her best chance to offer it. “I’m sorry about last night.”
Rebecca frowned. “So you said last night, and then rushed off before I could reply. I’ll tell you now what I would have told you then, if you’d stuck around. I don’t want your apology.”
“Fair enough, but it’s all I’ve got. I can’t turn back time and un-ruin the dinner—”
“You misunderstand.” Dark hair gleamed in the sun as she shook her head. “You didn’t ruin anything. First of all, it takes more than an over-served party crasher to get between my family and a good meal. Second, even if the disruption had ruined the dinner, it wouldn’t be you who owed an apology. It would be your mother. Now, if she wants to send me an apology, I’ll happily accept it, but yours?” She waved her hand. “Unwarranted.”
The tightness in her chest loosened a fraction. “That’s nice of you to say.”
She waved her hand again, batting the comment away. “It’s the truth. Will we see you at the wedding this evening?”
“Um…no.” She forced a laugh and sank her fingers into the sand. “I’m sure that comes as a relief. I know I don’t fit your brand.”
Rebecca shrugged. “You fit Booker’s brand, and that’s what’s important.”
The tightness in her chest came back with a vengeance. “I don’t. I’m not the kind of woman he needs.”
/> “When it comes to my son, I only know one thing. He’s quite capable of deciding for himself what he needs.” She sifted sand through her manicured fingers. “Don’t expect me to repeat that too often, because admitting as much goes against my natural instincts. I specialize in telling people how to live happy, healthy, fulfilling lives, and as a result, I tend to think I know what’s best for everyone. Most of the time I do, so I’m not likely to change my ways, but Booker is an exception.”
“He’s wrong this time. He deserves more than—”
“The woman he loves?” Rebecca challenged.
“I—It’s not that simple.”
His mother got to her feet, and brushed the sand off the seat of her pants. “No. Like most important things in life, love takes strength and courage. I wouldn’t have pegged you as lacking either. I hope you don’t prove me wrong.”
…
“You know, Booker, a lot of people find weddings happy occasions. Some even crack a smile.”
He turned to see Aaron step onto the patio of the pool house the groom and his entourage had been relegated to until the appointed hour.