much need for words. The serenity of the moment gave her a sense of calm even with the turmoil still swirling through her life.
“Is the old pier still there?” Dylan asked as he glanced down the beach.
“I think so.” She shrugged. “Although I remember hearing something about damage to it during hurricane season a couple of years ago.”
He straightened, dusting sand from the front of his jeans. “Want to check it out?”
“Sure.”
“Sam, you need a break?” he asked the boy.
“I’ll stay here and finish,” Sam answered. “I’ve got an idea for another tower.”
“Just you and me, then,” Dylan told Carrie, sending her heartbeat racing.
She glanced down at her feet then toed off her espadrilles.
“Sand in your toes. How brave,” Dylan said.
He was teasing, but she felt oddly brave.
They started down the beach toward the pier. Daisy trotted after them but when the dog realized Sam was staying behind, she deserted the adults for the teenager.
“I’m glad you chose her and not a puppy,” Carrie said. Her arm brushed again Dylan’s, and to her surprise, he took her hand, linking their fingers together. It was natural and right for the moment. They were here on this empty stretch of beach like it was their own private oasis.
It was dangerous to crave this connection to him, but Carrie couldn’t seem to stop herself. They could go back to being enemies in town after the holiday festival. But for now she wanted to remember how easy it was to be close to him.
“I can’t believe Sam is building a sandcastle,” Dylan said with a grin.
“I was a little worried about suggesting it,” Carrie admitted. “But from what I see teaching classes at the high school, teenagers are forced to grow up too fast. They give up art because they’re athletes or too busy with core classes and they let go of play because it’s not cool to be a kid.”
“Losing both of your parents at one time definitely makes you grow up fast.”
“I can’t imagine,” Carrie whispered.
“Me neither.” Dylan shook his head. “I’ve been with him every day since it happened, and I still can’t imagine how he deals with it. Or me. I’m impatient and short-tempered. I have no idea the right things to say, and I sure as hell can’t go from personal experience. My parents messed things up left and right.” He stopped, turned to her. “What if I screw that kid up beyond repair?”
“You won’t,” she told him. “Your mom and dad were like mine, totally unaware of their own flaws. You’re trying, Dylan. Sam might not appreciate it now, but somewhere deep inside he realizes it. That counts.”
His gaze softened. “This is why everyone relies on you so much. You can make a hopeless situation seem hopeful.”
She had a feeling he was going to say more and knew that one additional kind word would push her over the edge of her ability to resist her attraction for him. She glanced over her shoulder but a bend in the shoreline obstructed her view of Sam.
Nothing to stop her from jumping his bones. Nothing but her own good sense, which was fast disappearing.
“There’s the pier,” he said suddenly. “It’s still here. I want Sam to see it. His dad came to visit one summer when we were kids and we spent hours under that pier building homemade rafts.”
Right. The whole reason they’d walked down the beach was not for a private moment so they could make out like a couple of teens, but because Dylan wanted to revisit a place from his past that had meaning. A needed reminder that they might share a past but not the future.
“Let’s bring him down,” she suggested brightly, immediately turning on her heel and heading back toward the chairs and umbrella she’d set up.
“How’s your painting going?” Dylan asked as they walked. He reached for her hand again, but she moved away.
“I’m busy with the festival and the holiday painting parties scheduled at the studio. My work isn’t going anywhere.”
“Especially not if you don’t do anything with it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re avoiding your art. Even Avery agreed. I’m sure Meredith would, as well.”
“You talked to my sister about me?” It was difficult to believe that minutes earlier Carrie had found Dylan almost irresistible when right now she wanted to punch him in the face.
“Only that we both think you’re ignoring your talent and keeping yourself busy as a way not to put yourself out there with your art. You’re too talented for