Her heart started up and she knew that her pale cheeks were no longer creamy white, but stained a nice shade of pink. An image of him and Candace snuck into her mind and she swallowed. Hard. What the hell?
Doing anything but looking back up there, Sabrina tapped her bare toe against the dock as if she was actually digging the stupid song. After a few minutes, she ventured a peek over the brim of her sunglasses, but he was gone.
Clearing her throat, she reached for her lemon water and took a good long drink, eyes on her kids, but not really seeing them.
She was restless but didn't know what she wanted to do. And that wasn't a good omen considering she was staring at the beginning of a long summer on the lake. When Brent was around, there was always something on the go. Her husband had loved the outdoors and he loved sharing it with their kids even more. The fact that his job allowed him the summer off to come up here with his family had been his dream.
Brent.
That old familiar ache grabbed her hard, but she refused to wallow in it. She couldn't wallow in it.
"Mommy, I'm hungry."
Because it was time for lunch.
"Wash your hands from the tap inside the boathouse." Sabrina watched the twins scamper up the dock and disappear inside and while they were cleaning up, she unpacked the cooler she'd brought down.
Morgan grumbled about tuna sandwiches while Harry was thrilled she'd taken the time to cut up some cucumber. They each grabbed a juice box and argued about what was better, pineapple punch (Harry) or straight-up strawberry (Morgan). As far as Sabrina could tell, neither one of them won the argument, though she was pretty sure they'd each think they'd won.
The three of them were just finishing up when Teague stepped onto the dock.
He was shirtless with low slung cargoes that showed an expressive span of skin below his bellybutton, and big ass work boots. Was it weird that her first thought was he looked good?
"What are those things?" Morgan stood up and pointed at Teague. There were scars puckered along his abdomen and several more across his chest. Some were old and faded, but others were raw and angry looking.
Mortified, Sabrina sprang to her feet. "Morgan!" Her eyes flew to Teague. "I'm sorry, she's always saying the first thing that pops into her head."
Mirrored aviators covered his eyes so she couldn't gage his reaction, but he shrugged and shoved his hands into his front pockets, turning to her daughter.
"They're scars."
"Oh," Harry said, getting to his feet and walking toward Teague. "Do they hurt?"
Teague shook his head. "Not anymore."
"How did you get them?" Morgan asked.
"I … " Teague paused. "I was doing my job and there was … an accident."
"What's your job?" Harry asked.
A heartbeat passed.
"Harry, my line of work isn't exactly easy to explain."
Sabrina watched Teague closely. She didn't know much about what had happened to him overseas-only what she'd seen on television-but she knew it hadn't been good. A former Seal, he'd been in Syria when he'd disappeared with several other men. What exactly it was they were doing over there had been speculated on but never confirmed.
Some reports had said it was some sort of secretive military mission, while others reports ranged from humanitarian to intelligence, to a film documentary.
The details were sketchy but what couldn't be denied was that they'd been held captive for several days and all but one had been rescued and returned to American soil. What happened to the remaining man had never been revealed-at least as far as Sabrina knew.
"Guys," Sabrina interjected. "It's time for a nap."
At her words, the twins turned from Teague, their protests automatic and well prepared. But Sabrina wasn't having any of it. They were only six (though not officially for a few more weeks) and had been up at the crack of dawn. Most of that time had been spent on the beach, in the water and sun. They'd never make dinner unless they had a nap.
"Inside." Her tone brooked no argument and after the expected second round of pleas, Morgan and Harry headed up to the cottage.
"Did you want … " Sabrina pointed to the uneaten sandwiches.
"I'm good." Teague motioned toward the Simon gazebo on the other side of the beach. "I just thought I'd warn you that I've got some repairs to do so it might get noisy."
"Thanks for the heads up."
"Maybe I should wait? I don't want to be responsible for two cranky kids if they don't catch some sleep."
"No," Sabrina answered quickly, moving to pack up the remains from lunch. "Go ahead. They'll be out cold in ten minutes."
"Wish it was that easy for me."
He spoke the words more to himself and Sabrina didn't know how to respond. She wanted to say she knew exactly what he meant but she kept quiet and gathered up the kids empty drink boxes.
"Is your family coming north for the holidays?" The Simon clan had been coming up to Gravenhurst for the Canadian/American celebrations for years. Even though she'd been a townie, she hadn't met the family until she'd started dating Brent. He was from the city and his family owned the cottage. He came up for the summers and it wasn't until she was in her late teens that she'd met any of them.
"Tucker was going to come up with his fiancée, but I … ." Teague sighed and ripped off his aviators, rubbing his temples. He glanced out at the water and for a few moments, she was able to study him unobserved.
He looked tired. And conflicted. He also looked fed up and she knew this man was hurting. He was fighting some demons. But then, weren't they all?
"You convinced him not to come?" she asked lightly, snapping the cooler lid into place.
"You could say that."
"Wish I was that lucky," Sabrina muttered.
"What was that?" Those dark eyes were settled on her once more and she shivered at the intensity there. There was nothing light or easy about this man.
"I just … " She shrugged. "My mother-in-law is insisting on a visit and no matter what I say, she won't leave me alone. She's coming Thursday and considering Saturday is Canada Day, she'll be here at least until Monday."
A ghost of a smile curved his lips. "Is she that bad?"
"No." And she wasn't. "Let's just say that Morgan's unfiltered mouth is something she comes by honestly. I love Brent's mother, but she likes to butt in where she has no right to butt in. It was bad before, I mean this is the woman who had me in tears on my wedding day, but since Brent … "
Her gaze slid away and she shrugged. "Well, since Brent passed, she's been worse. She thinks that it's time for me to move on. Says that I can't grieve forever. What she doesn't understand is that right now, it's all I've got. As crazy as that sounds, it's better than nothing."
He was silent for a few seconds and when he spoke, his voice was subdued. "Sometimes the pain or grief or whatever you want to call it, is the only thing that makes us remember that we're still alive."
"Because it hurts so damn much," she murmured. "Enough to poke through the fog." He got it.
Teague slipped his aviators back into place, his sculpted features hard, closed off. "I just wanted to let you know I'll be using a hammer for the next few hours."
He didn't give her a chance to reply but instead turned abruptly, making his way back to the Simon side of the beach. There were more scars visible across his back-some large, some small, but all of them angry looking.
Sabrina imagined that her invisible scars-if she could see them-looked exactly like his.
The kids slept for nearly two hours during which time Sabrina did laundry and caught up on some housework. Once they were awake, she spent the afternoon on the dock, pretending to read while her twins played in the sand and the puppy happily joined in.
Directly across from her, Teague repaired some wind damage to the roof of the gazebo and by dinner, his sweat-slicked body had become Sabrina's main focus.
Thank God for sunglasses.
The man was built like a god. There was no denying it. His shoulders were wide, his chest impressive and the eight-pack he sported attested to the fact that he was extremely physical. He had lean hips and those damn shorts did nothing but emphasize the cut that most women drooled over.
Sabrina wasn't drooling. She was just … appreciating. Or something.
It had been a while.
She watched him wipe sweat from his brow and when he glanced over to her, she froze. For a long while, the two of them stared across the beach at each other, and even though the large dark sunglasses she sported kept her eyes covered, there was no way he couldn't know she'd been staring.
"I'm hungry," Harry said, tossing his purple plastic pail into the bin on the dock.
"Okay," she murmured, dragging her eyes away from Teague. She packed up her bag and stowed away the chairs before leading her kids back to their cottage, all the while hypersensitive about the man a few hundred feet from her. Was he watching her?