* * *
A warm breeze lifted past Willow, scattering a light spray of sand onto her face. She lifted a hand and brushed at it, then reached for another crunchy onion ring. “Was I right about this food or what?” She asked, looking sidelong at Matt. He was half way through his burger.
“You were absolutely right,” he agreed, smiling across at her. “Almost the best burger I’ve ever had.”
“Almost?” She queried, inserting mock offence into her tone.
He nodded seriously. “The crab shack on the road to the Hamptons does a lobster burger that is to die for. You’ll love it.”
Willow reached for another onion ring, to hide the way his words had made her heart flutter. He had started doing that more lately. Talking about things he wanted to show her. Things he wanted to share with her. And despite the fact that he was just in the midst of a divorce, and she’d sworn not to get too involved, she had let those little promises build into a big wall of hope inside of her.
Matt’s burger was good. Delicious, in fact. But it had nothing to do with why he couldn’t stop smiling. Willow St Clare was doing something crazy to him. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, and when he wasn’t with her, he missed her like hell.
He made no attempt to disguise the way he was studying her, as she brushed her hands together to free them of crumbs, then folded her legs to her chest. She balanced her chin on top of her knees, and stared towards the horizon.
“I’ve always loved the beach at night,” she said after a moment.
“That makes sense. Most people like the beach at the hottest time of the day. You, Willow, are a law unto yourself.”
She shrugged her slender shoulders. “Don’t you think it looks like a magical gateway to another world?”
He followed her gaze, trying to see it as she did.
“The moonlight is like a diamond pathway, leading somewhere far away and wonderful. Look at how it glitters and shines. It makes me wish I could swim out and grab it, and follow it all the way to the secret world beyond; but its very intangibility is what makes it so special.”
He was quiet. Not because he disagreed, but because she was, as always, weaving her web of magic tight around him. “What else do you like?” He prompted, his voice thick with admiration.
“The sky,” she looked heavenwards. “It’s so inky black at night. Just a few brave stars winking down at us. And listen,” she turned her eyes to him, and stayed perfectly silent.
“I don’t hear anything except the waves,” he said after a quiet moment.
“The waves, yes, but can’t you hear the reeds? The way they whisper to each other with each breeze, telling secrets of what they’ve seen. Who knows? Maybe mermaids have come and taken their fronds to brush their hair.”
Matt burst out laughing, but he was completely enamoured of her imagination. “Mermaids?”
“Hey, have you got some secret knowledge of the ocean I lack?” She responded, her eyes perfectly serious as they locked with his.
“Only that mermaids are a myth, you mean?”
“Says you. And a bunch of sceptics. But who really knows? We’ve mapped hardly any of the sea floor. Don’t you think it’s possible that there’s a whole other world down there?”
He shook his head. “You’re one of a kind, honey.”
“I’m not saying I believe it, necessarily. I mean, would I stake my life on their existence? Probably not. But I don’t want to live in a world where we think we know everything. A world where we’re so completely closed off to the idea of magic. Sometimes, you just have to believe.”
Matt nodded slowly. Magic did happen. He was sitting in the midst of it. Some might have called Matt’s meeting Willow fateful. Matt preferred to think of it as magic. She was some kind of angel, sent to him when he most needed a new path in life.
Willow mistook his continued silence for scepticism, and she reached across, playfully punching his arm. “Didn’t your folks read you fairy tales as a child?”
He caught her hand and lifted it to his lips. “I guess they did, when I was small. Truth be told, I didn’t like sitting still for long enough. I imagine I was a handful.”
She nodded, scanning his face thoughtfully, while butterflies flapped furiously inside her stomach. “I can see that.” Her cheeks colored. “I don’t mean the handful part. I mean that I can see you as an active, outdoorsy kid.” She reached up and ran a hand through his blonde hair. “Are you like your dad?” Funny, she didn’t feel like she was intruding to ask him about his father now. After only a week of spending every spare, secret moment together, she felt totally comfortable saying anything to Matt.
“I am. Though I wish I was more like him, sometimes,” he agreed, a wistful smile on his lips.
“How?” She queried, wanting to know more about him. To understand him completely.
“My dad – Hank – was proud, stubborn and smart as a whip. He had this ruthless determination to succeed. He worked like a gun, but he was a great family man, too. He wouldn’t accept defeat in any part of his life. He’d come home to play ball with me, and have dinner, then go back to his office until midnight. He just always knew who he was, and what he wanted to do.”
Willow nodded slowly. “And you don’t?”
He thought of the man he’d been for the last decade. Wild, free-spirited, and hugely selfish. He thought of the man he’d agreed to become: Chairperson of McCain Industries, and shook his head. “I’m a grown man. I know I shouldn’t feel like this…” His voice trailed off in a wave of self-recrimination.
“Like what?” She insisted, leaning closer towards him.
He expelled a harsh sigh. “When my dad died, I just felt… lost. I still do, in some ways.” His laugh was an uncomfortable sound, and his eyes didn’t meet Willow’s. “Pathetic, right?”
“No,” she denied fiercely. “Of course it’s not pathetic. You loved him, and admired him. He sounds like he was a big part of your life. You lost him in a terrible, unpredictable, unforgivable way. I don’t think that’s remotely pathetic.”
Matt shrugged. “I keep wondering if he’d be proud of me. Because I want him to be.”
“I’m sure he would be, Matt. You’re a great guy. How could he not be proud of the man you’ve become?”
Matt lifted his shoulders again. “I know he’d have liked you,” he said, a smile on his face, as he looked over at Willow. “He always liked smart, sassy girls.”
“Sassy?” She laughed, and her whole expression changed. Her eyes creased at the corners, shimmering with pleasure. “I’m sassy, huh?”
“Oh, yes. At least, that’s what my mom’d call it.”
She grinned. “Would your mom like me?”
Matt ran a hand over his stubbled chin. “My mom’s a hard nut to crack. Not particularly given to warmth. She’d likely take a while to warm up.”
Willow put her head on Matt’s shoulder, and stared out at the moonlit sea. “What’s she like?”
“Beautiful, glamorous, and somewhat demanding.” His lips quirked into a wry grimace. “She was the only daughter of doting parents. She grew up spoiled. Still is, to some degree.”
“And so it’s just the two of you?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “I don’t see her as much as I should.”
“She’s not in New York?”
“Nah. She’s got a place in Maine. She likes the speed of life up there.”
“Fancy,” Willow teased, snuggling her head closer to his neck. He smelled so good.
His heart turned over. He loved that about Willow. She was so unimpressed by his wealth. So nonplussed by the fact that his family was considered corporate royalty by many. She never asked about that stuff. She treated him like everyone else – and he adored her all the more for it.
Would she understand why he had to leave her? Why he had to go back to Manhattan, to take up the seat his father been ripped out of? “Willow,” he said quietly, his heart unusually heavy as he sought the right words to explain about his promise to his mother. “I’ve been meaning to tell you something for a few days.”
She was still, her head on his shoulder. “Yeah?”
He nodded, his mouth dry. “When my dad died, I was young. But now…”
“You’re still young,” she interjected teasingly.
He wasn’t willing to be side tracked. “I’m old enough now to stop fooling around.”
“You think your time in the army was fooling around?” She asked dubiously.
“Hell, no. But I wasn’t living up to my responsibilities. You know, I turned my back on my mom, and Meghan. I was hell bent on taking on danger. I didn’t care if I lived or died.” Willow’s heart squeezed at the idea of any harm befalling him.
“And?” She asked, when he just stopped talking.
Stop beating around the damned bush and say it, Matt cursed inwardly. Tell her you’re going back to Manhattan. That this has to be short and sweet. He opened his mouth. “I need to start facing my responsibilities. I want to make my dad proud. I want to be the kind of man he’d be proud to call his son.”