Ben said, “Adela. Please. Enough. Let’s enjoy our meal.”
“We are enjoying this delicious meal and I know Juli will agree you are very special.”
Juli nodded, but her smile felt as false as Adela’s good manners.
“They are both very successful businessmen.” Adela paused again. With her knife held dramatically aloft, she said, “Where did you go to school, Juli?”
Juli was tempted to lie, but she couldn’t because Luke and Ben knew the truth. She looked at Ben beside her, then at Luke across the table. She could tell Luke was angry by the set of his mouth. She took a cleansing breath and said, “Nowhere special.”
“Oh. Well, I understand you work in a market? Interesting work. And for a caterer?”
Juli watched Ben. He looked tired—as if he’d checked out. Luke watched him, too, and when Ben’s shoulders sagged, Luke interrupted.
“Juli is an artist, Adela. Isn’t that so, Ben?”
Ben perked up. “She is.”
Adela opened her mouth to reply and Ben said kindly, but firmly, “Enough. If you want to get to know her better, invite her to lunch.” He leaned toward Juli. “I guess I’m not the only Bradshaw who interrogates over a good meal.”
Juli laughed with him, but it was forced. Their amusement was surface only, just enough to cover the damage and let them escape with some dignity. She noticed Luke seemed more relaxed now, but she couldn’t begin to read his face and didn’t care to try. This wasn’t even about her. This was a battle for possession of Ben, and Adela had the finesse of an out-of-control sledgehammer.
“Ben, I have a headache. Do you mind?”
Adela spoke, “There’s still dessert.”
Luke said, “I can wrap it up for you to take home.”
They left with a few quick goodbyes. It was such a short distance home neither of them spoke, digesting both meal and the dinner conversation in silence. The silence continued up the stairs. Ben preceded her into the house, but Juli walked past him and straight out the front door onto the porch and into the night.
Air. She needed air.
Juli was partway down the crossover, half-running by the light of the moon, before she heard Ben calling her name. The ocean sounded louder at night was less noise to compete. She continued for a few steps more, pretending she hadn’t heard him over the crashing surf.
She put her hand on the rail. The wood was damp with sea spray and grainy with sand. She held the rail to steady herself and waited for Ben.
“Juli, what’s wrong? Why are you out here?”
She shook her head, the jumbled thoughts and emotions stayed topsy-turvy and senseless. “We missed our sunset walk.”
Ben frowned and leaned closer. “What? Our walk?”
She raised her voice, “Our walk, Ben. We missed our walk.”
He put his arms around her. He pulled her close. She rested her face against his shoulder and shivered. How could she explain they should never have gone to Luke’s? That he should’ve stopped Adela? Once it was gone, you couldn’t get it back—whether it was lost innocence, special moments, or peace of mind.
“I don’t understand. I’m sorry we missed our walk, but there’ll be more.” He relaxed his hug and put his hand beneath her chin and lifted her face. “Come with me.”
He pulled her to the end of the crossover and led her down the steps. When they reached the deep, dry sand her shoes bogged down and she stumbled. He stopped to kick off his shoes and she did the same. Juli was barely steady again when he tugged her hand and led her forward, near to where the tide was going out and the sand was wet and firm.
He kept hold of her hand, but slid his other arm around her back, near her waist, and pulled her close.
“What—?”
“Shhh. Be still. Close your eyes and listen.”
He shut his eyes, head up and listening. After a moment of uncertainty, she did the same.
“Do you hear it?”
“What?” She felt the beat of his heart against her chest, echoing her own.
“The ocean. Do you hear its pulse?”
Juli closed her eyes again. “Yes,” she breathed. “I do.”
He moved, ever so slightly, one leg sliding outward and forward, then the other. She followed his lead and they began to move slowly to the timing of the waves. Juli folded her body into his and they moved in unison, round and round in slow and graceful rhythm.
It would never be performed in a ballroom—this dance belonged to the ocean, the sand and the moon, temporarily lent to a starlit couple in need of a little magic.
Chapter Ten
Ben slept late the next morning. Juli was out early hoping to greet the sunrise and to watch the smooth, controlled flight of pelicans skimming the waves in search of breakfast. The pelicans were, indeed, feeding, but no sun broke through the cloud cover. As darker, lower clouds pushed onshore, she turned back. She was almost to their crossover when she saw Frankie leaning against the steps.