Holiday In the Hamptons (From Manhattan with Love 5)

She eased out of his arms and sat up. “My dad knew exactly how to control people. He understood their weaknesses and he used them. He wanted to hurt. Pretty early on I realized that, and I was determined never to let him see that he’d hurt me. The more indifferent I was, the worse he became.” She shook her head. “Maybe I should have crumpled at the first insult, but there was no way I was doing that. He preyed on weakness. On vulnerability. The only way to survive him was to never let myself be vulnerable. So I hid. Not like Harriet, who hid under the table or in her bedroom, I hid inside myself. I built these walls. I even used to imagine I was in a castle and the enemy was coming. I’d pull up the drawbridge and they’d be trapped outside. That’s how I used to picture my dad.”

He sat up, too, pulling the covers around them. “As the enemy?”

“There were days when it felt that way. He taunted me that I was no good, useless, so I spent my whole adult life proving him wrong. How crazy is that? In a way I let him control me. I wanted to show him I could be financially independent and successful. And I worked so hard at hiding my feelings, and got pretty good at it. I think I was afraid that if I lowered that drawbridge to let you in, my defenses would be down. I couldn’t let that happen. I needed to protect myself. I saw my mom vulnerable. And Harriet. I didn’t want to be vulnerable, too.”

“And now? You’ve started opening up. You’ve lowered that drawbridge and let me in. Told me things you’ve never told me before. And have those castle walls come crashing down?”

She gave a half smile. “Still standing.”

He nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “You know, someone who crosses that drawbridge isn’t always the enemy. You were afraid to let down that drawbridge because you thought the person on the other side would attack you, but I’m not attacking you, honey. I’m on your side. Think of me as reinforcements.”

“My father used to tell me I’d never do anything with my life.” She breathed. “I’ve never told anyone that before. I was always afraid that if I said it aloud, someone might agree.”

“Fliss—”

“I worked hard because I wanted the freedom and independence that came with owning and running a successful business, and I wanted Harriet to have that, too. And I worked hard because deep down I wanted him to be proud. I really wanted him to tell me he was proud, and that he’d been wrong about me. He never did. Never has.”

“You don’t need him to tell you that.” He pulled her into the circle on his arms. “You know he was wrong.”

“I wanted to hear him say it. I went to see him in the hospital, hoping for some dramatic reconciliation. It always happens in the movies.” Her voice was muffled against his chest, and she felt his hand smooth her hair gently.

“I’m guessing in this case life wasn’t like the movies.”

“Some people might have used that experience to reconnect with people. Not my father.” She paused. “It didn’t soften him or make him repent in any way. I showed up at the hospital and he asked me what I wanted. It was a good question, and I realized right then that all I really wanted was his approval, and I was never going to get it. To him I was always useless, hopeless, a disaster.” She felt Seth’s arms tighten around her. “He pushed me away, and it hurt more than anything that had gone before. I’ve never told anyone that before. No one else knew I went to see him, not even Harriet.”

“If he pushed you away, that was his loss.”

“It was mine, too, but it’s a loss I have to learn to live with.” She lifted her head. “I’m glad I told you.”

“So am I.”

“Talking. Opening up. It feels good. Better than I thought it would. I think I could get to like it.”

“Good. Because I’m definitely liking it.” He pressed his mouth to her neck. “And I’m liking other things, too.”

So was she. And as he pulled her down again she realized that during all those years she’d spent trying to find someone else, she’d been wasting her time. She didn’t want someone else. She’d never wanted anyone else. All she’d ever wanted was this. Him.

Seth.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

TIME PASSED IN A BLUR.

Fliss found more clients, walked more dogs, built up the business. In this case the community grapevine worked to her advantage. Word-of-mouth meant she was as busy as she wanted to be, but she still found time to be with Seth.

They drove to Montauk and watched the surfers at Ditch Plains, and she found it hard to remember that she was only a few hours from the city. At least part of every day she went without shoes, felt the sand between her toes and breathed in the smell of the ocean.

They ate at the marina restaurant, where daily seafood specials were the order of the day, and sometimes they frequented the airy waterfront bar that served cocktails.

They took the ferry to Shelter Island and explored tidal creeks, woodlands and marshes. They rented kayaks and saw diamondback terrapins and fiddler crabs, blue herons and egrets. Later, with muscles aching, they found a beach restaurant and ate clam chowder and blackened fish tacos while they watched the sunset. Here, far away from the celebrity magnet of South Fork, there was an unmanicured wildness that she loved.

But her favorite times were the hours they spent sitting on the deck of Seth’s house, watching the sun dip down over the water.

By the Fourth of July she had completely adjusted to the pace of life.

The day dawned sunny, and Fliss pulled on shorts and a T-shirt and found her grandmother in the kitchen measuring pecans into a bowl. The smell of baking came from the oven and a mound of apples sat in the middle of the table waiting to be peeled.

“The bruising is fading.” Fliss kissed her grandmother on the cheek. “How are you feeling?”