She inhaled sharply. “That’s not true. Not true at all. She doesn’t really believe that.”
He didn’t answer, though he had heard Rosie say those very words. He didn’t think she had meant for him to overhear but she had been talking to Sylvia one day in the bookshop when he had been there. His ears inevitably perked up when Emma’s name had been mentioned.
Maybe he shouldn’t have been quick to share what he overheard with the woman in question.
“It was never my mom’s fault I left. Never. She did nothing wrong. I’m the one to blame. I made stupid, stupid decisions and screwed up my whole life.”
“Not your whole life,” he said, inclining his head toward Olive.
Her features softened, as they always did when she saw her daughter. “Not everything,” she agreed.
As if she knew they had been talking about her, Olive ran over to them and plopped onto the blanket. Her new friend had returned to her own family, he saw, and they were packing up their things to leave the beach.
As Olive hugged her mother, Bryce watched the two of them and felt something hard lodge in his chest, an awareness he could no longer escape.
He was in love with Emma Lucas.
It wasn’t a big surprise to him, since he’d loved her in some form or other since they were kids.
Even as he acknowledged this to himself, Bryce felt a pang of sadness. Emma had made it clear she wasn’t interested in a relationship with him or anyone else and he knew he had to respect her wishes.
Still, he couldn’t help imagining what it would be like to be part of their little family, to wake up each morning beside Emma, to help her raise Olive.
The longing was almost painful. But Bryce knew he would rather have Emma in his life as a friend than not at all. He would cherish these moments, these glimpses of what could be, even if they never became reality.
“Mama, I’m hungry. Can we have lunch now?”
Bryce knew that was his signal to grab Pearl and head back to town.
He didn’t want to. He didn’t want his time with Olive and Emma to end.
Her daughter was right. The beach was magical. He wanted to stay here, just the three of them, and enjoy the sunshine, the sound of the waves, and the tingle in his veins he got whenever he was around Emma Lucas.
He rose, brushing sand off. “I hope you guys enjoy your lunch.”
“You should stay and have lunch with us,” Olive said, in what sounded more like an order than a suggestion.
“That’s very kind of you, sweetheart, but you and your mom didn’t know you were going to be bumping into mewhen you packed your lunches today. You probably didn’t bring along enough lunch for all three of us.”
“I actually did,” Emma said, looking embarrassed. “I made an extra sandwich in case one fell in the sand or something. I’ve learned with Olive it’s better to have a contingency plan, especially when it comes to food. It’s not much, only ham and cheese sandwiches, but we do have pasta salad and cookies we picked up at the bakery in town.”
“How can I say no to cookies?” he said, then settled back down on the blanket to rejoin them.
Years from now, Bryce knew he would look back on this day as one of the most enjoyable of his life.
The day was gorgeous, the setting serene. A few other people came and went from the beach as they enjoyed their lunch but for the most part they had it to themselves except for the occasional seabird that toddled along the water’s edge.
Olive was adorable, full of sass and funny observations about the world. She had stolen his heart the first time he met her in the bookshop and she seemed destined to leave a permanent imprint there, along with her mother.
What was he going to do about this love he could no longer deny?
Emma had made it abundantly clear she wasn’t interested in a relationship, and he certainly did not want to be the guy who couldn’t take a hint, especially when it had been delivered to him in unmistakable terms.
Despite her words, he knew something simmered between them, even if she didn’t want to acknowledge it. She seemed as aware of him as he was of her. He saw it in the faint color that sometimes brushed her cheekbones when she looked at him, in the way her fingers trembled if they inadvertentlytouched, in the way she would catch his gaze and then look quickly away.
Was she remembering the kiss they had shared? Or was she determined to put it out of her head?
He had dreamed about having her in his arms again, about long, delicious days like this one, filled with laughter and conversation and that sizzle of awareness under his skin.