Colin winked, then strode back into the guesthouse and closed the door.
If he were trying to make a point, I’d gotten it. Loud and clear.
This was going to be the longest six months of my life.
By the time my parents arrived late that afternoon, I was packed and ready to go.
“Hey. How was your flight?”
“Wonderful.” My father patted my shoulder. “First class really is a splendid way to fly. Thank you for that.”
“It’s the least I could do,” I said.
Bella came bounding at the sound of his voice. She could always count on him for extra playtime.
“There’s my girl!”
While he loved on my dog, I hugged my mother. “How are you, Mom? Thanks for coming.”
“Hello, sweetheart. Are you kidding? I love my two-week vacation on the beach. I just wish you were here longer.”
My mother, Elizabeth St. James, was a fifty-six-year-old civil law attorney before she accepted her first appointment as a U.S. Ambassador to Scotland. She’d met my barrister father, George, in London while visiting the UK after law school. To hear them tell it, they fell madly in love at first sight, and when it was time for my mother to go home, my father lasted two weeks before applying for a job in the States to be with her.
Closing the door, I grinned. “You can always stay longer. I’d love for you to be here for the pre-season.”
She patted my face. “Me too. We’ll see how it goes.”
Moving back and forth between countries had become very familiar to me when I was a teenager. I suspect that’s why I loved being in one spot here in San Diego.
“I’ll take your bags upstairs while you settle in.”
Bounding up the stairs, I put their luggage in the other guest room that overlooked the ocean. When I came back down, I found my mother in the kitchen.
I went to the wine refrigerator where I kept my beer and pulled out a bottle of Napa Valley Chardonnay.
“Would you like a glass of wine?”
“Yes, please. I didn’t have one on the plane, hoping you’d have my favorite here.”
“I wouldn’t dare invite you here without it.”
I opened the wine, then let it breathe while I collected her glass. Looking around, I noticed my father was missing.
“Where’s Dad?”
“He’s gone down to the beach with Bella. It’s all he’s been talking about this morning. That and the rugby player.”
I poured the wine but didn’t comment on her statement.
“He’s dying to meet him. You know how he is about the sport.”
Nodding absently, I went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of electrolyte water. Cracking the lid, I turned it up and gulped it down. But I felt the heat of her stare on my skin. It was only a matter of time before she read me like a book.
“When do we get to meet your houseguest?”
The seemingly innocuous question sparked a vivid memory I had been trying to forget. Turning toward the pool, my thoughts snagged on the memory of him telling me exactly what he wanted from me and completely missed her calling my name.
“I’m sorry. What did you say?”
