Cold Feet in Hot Sand (4 page)

“Yeah. I guess they did.” He glanced at her, just barely making out her features in the low light. “How are you doing, anyway? I’m sorry I haven’t asked much lately, but
—
”

“Nick, you’ve been preoccupied. Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay, but how
are
you doing?”

Deanna shrugged. “It still hurts. I wouldn’t take him back in a million years, but it still hurts.” She laughed and shook her head. “I guess that doesn’t make much sense, does it?”

“It does,” he said. “The way he worked you over would have

hurt anyone. He’s lucky I didn’t break him in half for it.”

She threw him a mischievous smile. “Aww, you would have kicked his ass for me?”

“You should know by now,” he said, “any man hurts you, all you have to do is give the word, and I’ll solve the problem with a shovel and a shotgun.”

Laughing, she smacked his arm playfully. “You are such a noble gentleman, Nick.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, right.”

They exchanged glances, and both laughed softly. As the quiet laughter came and went, they turned their gazes ahead. In silence, they stared out at the darkening horizon, a few inches apart but alone with their thoughts until Nick spoke again.

“How do you think Kristina’s holding up?” he asked.

“She’ll be upset for a while,” Deanna replied, her voice gentle. “Give her some time.”

“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to talk to her, would you?”

Deanna laughed. “I came out here to talk to you. Do I get to referee everything now?”

He dropped his gaze to the sand at his feet. “Shit, I’m sorry. I don’t want you stuck in the middle of this.”

“I was kidding,” she said. “Anything I can do to help, I will. You know that.”

“Thank you.” He glanced at his watch. “I’m not keeping you from your family, am I?”

She shook her head. “Our plans for the evening kind of fell through.”

“I guess they did, didn’t they?” He rested his forearms top of his knees. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Now that we’ve talked, I guess I understand. I’m just sorry it worked out this way.”

“Me too.”

“I feel kind of bad for hooking you two up, too.”

“Nah, don’t feel bad.” He smiled, and actually meant it. “Things didn’t work out, but I think even Kristina would agree it wasn’t all bad. We just weren’t meant to be for the long run.”

“Ever the optimist,” she said. “People like you disgust me, just so you know.”

Nick laughed. “Hey, optimists like me have to exist to balance out the insufferable pessimists like you.”

“Insufferable?” She snorted. “Please. What’s more insufferable than someone being incessantly cheery when everything sucks?”

“I don’t know, maybe someone who’s pouring more doom and gloom on existing doom and gloom?”

Deanna gestured dismissively. “Just trying to make sure it all matches, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

She glanced at him, then laughed in spite of her best efforts. “Okay, so being Mr. Cheery Sunny Optimism, do you think anyone’s ever a hundred percent compatible? I mean, Jason was a lying, cheating son of a bitch. You and Kristina wanted different things out of life. But, do you think anyone ever gets it right?”

Nick chewed the inside of his cheek and rolled the question around in his mind for a long moment. “There’s an awful lot of people who seem like they’re happily married after a long time, so they must be doing something right.”

“Think we can beat the secret out of them with a tire iron?”

Nick burst out laughing. “Only you would think that way.”

“Desperate times,” she said with a shrug.

Shaking his head, he said, “Only you, Deanna.” He pressed his bare feet into the sand, pushing them past the warm, dry top layer to the cool, damp sand underneath. “What about you? Tire iron aside, you think anyone ever gets it right?”

“Honestly?” She hugged her knees to her chest. “I think we all just kind of flail and stumble through the dating pool until we trip over someone who turns out to not only be the one whose bullshit we can put up with for the rest of our lives, but who can also put up with our bullshit for the rest of theirs.”

Nick stared at her incredulously.

She turned to him. “What?”

He smirked. “Well if that’s not the most optimistic view of romance I’ve ever heard.”

“Hey, you didn’t ask for the happy-go-lucky version.”

“Is there one?”

“No.”

“Didn’t think so.” He paused. “That wasn’t part of your toast for the reception, was it?”

Deanna
snorted
. “Oh come on. You know me better than that.”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m asking.” He raised an eyebrow. “Which is why I suspect it was that or something much, much worse.”

“Hmm.” She furrowed her brow. “So, you’re saying I shouldn’t have included the bit about what happened at the company party three Christmases ago?”

His eyes widened. “Deanna…”

She laughed again and elbowed him. “Oh, honestly. You know I wouldn’t have told that story.” Her eyes narrowed and she grinned devilishly. “Blackmail material like that has to wait for just the right occasion.”

Nick rolled his eyes. “Never change, Deanna. Never change.”

“Oh, I will.” Her grin broadened. “If only to keep you on your toes.”

“Oh,
great
.”

They both laughed, and after a moment, silence closed in once again. Watching the ocean with unfocused eyes, Nick only half-noticed the way the dim light from the bars and hotels played on the calm, dark water. He kept thinking back to this morning with Kristina, but then his mind would shift back to the present. Deanna was here. Still a friend, even if she was angry earlier. Even if he’d hurt her sister.

He’d treasured his friendship with Deanna for years, and he was only half-joking about being willing to straighten a guy out with a shotgun if the fucker messed with her. Jason was lucky Nick had never gotten hold of him. No woman deserved to be treated like that, but Deanna? Jason had no idea what he’d screwed up or who he’d pissed off in the process.

“You mind if I ask a personal question?” Nick said. “One that might be a bit of a touchy nerve?”

Deanna turned her head. “Am I required to answer?”

“No, of course not.”

“Go ahead.”

He took a breath. “You think you and Jason would have stayed together? If he hadn’t been cheating?”

“Probably not.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly, trying to see her better in the fading light. “Really?”

Deanna shifted so she was sitting cross-legged, and absently brushed some sand off her skirt. “It’s… it’s hard to explain. The thing is, you know how all the girls at work gave me crap because it was high time Jason and I started having kids?”

Grimacing, he nodded. Their co-workers had been relentless in needling Deanna about why she and Jason were still childless after so long together. She’d finally put a stop to it by telling one person
—
the biggest mouth in the department, which Nick assumed was a calculated move
—
that she was working with some fertility specialists, but things weren’t looking good.

“The thing is,” Deanna said, “I wasn’t really going to a fertility specialist. Jason and I started talking about having kids the year before we got married. We figured we’d wait a year or so before we started trying.” She blew out a breath and stared down at the sand in front of her. “Every year, usually right around our anniversary, the subject came up. At first, neither of us wanted to right away. Then he was leaning towards it, but I wanted to gain some seniority in the company. Finish my MBA. Pay off this debt or that one. And towards the end, I was running out of reasons to keep putting it off.”

“So, when you found out he was cheating, you guys were probably about to start trying?”

Deanna shook her head slowly. “A few months before I found out about his girlfriend, he’d asked about having a baby, and he got really pissed because I was still on the fence about it. And I didn’t even have a reason this time. He asked me point blank if I wanted to have a baby with him at all.” She turned to Nick. “And that’s when I realized I’d been putting it off all this time because no, I didn’t want to have a baby with him.”

Nick swallowed. “Why not?”

“Because I was unhappy with him,” she said. “And even though we were married, and I meant it when I made my vows, I realized I’d just kind of… checked out. My bags were mentally packed, I just couldn’t make myself call a cab and
leave
.” She laughed bitterly and looked out at the water again. “I guess he did me a favor by cheating. I’d probably still be married to him and wondering when the hell I’d work up the nerve to leave.”

“Wow,” he whispered. “I always thought you two were happy.”

She met his eyes. “Likewise.” A faint smile pulled at her lips. “We really suck at reading each other, don’t we?”

Nick laughed. “That, or we’re both just really good at keeping our cards close to the vest.”

“Something like that.” She put a hand on his arm. “Just so you know, for future reference, if you need to talk about something like this
—
before you call off a wedding or something
—
I’m always here for you.”

“Thank you,” he whispered. Deanna smiled, then leaned toward him and hugged him. As he held onto her, he added, “And the same goes for you. You know that, right?”

“Thank you.” She held him a little tighter. “I’m sorry things fell apart with Kristina. I was really hoping you’d be happy.”

“Me too.” Still holding onto her, he closed his eyes and sighed into her hair. “Thank you, Deanna. For listening.”

“You’re welcome.”

As she let him go and pulled back, he started to take a breath to say… something. The second they made eye contact, though, he forgot whatever it was that had been on the tip of his tongue. He forgot all about that breath he’d been taking.

He’d never looked at her like this. As far as he knew, she’d never looked at him this way either, but she was now, and so was he.

Oh my God, Deanna. I never realized how beautiful you are.

Now he understood what people meant when they talked about time standing still. The whole world came to a halt just then, earth and time holding completely still while an inkling he’d never noticed grew to an epiphany he couldn’t ignore. Blood pounded in his ears as he realized his entire perception of Deanna and the space between them
—
the
lack
of space between them
—
had shifted. Tilted. Warped. Suddenly? Slowly? Just now? Over time? He couldn’t put his finger on it, on when or how it happened, but he couldn’t step back and pretend it hadn’t.